Boredom, buzzards and blanking

Today was looking like a write off. I had one rod spinning on the drier and my courier's booked to collect. With no work I could get on with I was going to be stuck in all day waiting. I was getting so bored I almost got the tin of white gloss out that I bought three years ago for painting the doors and radiators. I was that bored I had an early lunch. With the cheese on toast  out of the way I was amazed to see a white van pull up the drive. Parcels gone by just after noon. The rest of the day was free!!

Something made me grab the pike rods and some baits from the freezer and head off to a local water I hadn't bait fished for almost thirty years. I was hoping that it still fished to the same pattern of producing on late winter afternoons, and that leapfrogging with paternostered deadbaits fished tight to the stick ups would still do the business.

The sun was shining warmly, the sky was blue, and the day was one of those you can get in February when it feels like spring has arrived. even though you know it will have gone as soon as the sun begins to set and the winter chill will return.

Sure enough, by the time I had reached the point where I wanted to start working my way back to the car from I was sweating under the bunny suit. So much so that by the time all three baits were out, one was a float legered mackerel tail for variety, I had to strip the sweatshirt off. Even so I had gone prepared for dusk by packing a fleece in the rucksack.

If I'm honest, one of the reasons I had been keen to go piking was to try out a little camera trick I'd read about. But the day was peaceful, three buzzards soared and mewed overhead. Perfect buzzard weather, no wind to speak of, clear air and bright sun. Ideal for them to scan the fields for carrion from on high. I settled on my unhooking mat and kept my eyes on the three floats. No alarms required for this semi-mobile approach.

I would move the rods after twenty minutes or so, maybe a little longer in some spots. One thing I had forgotten was how to cast accurately at short range with paternosters. I got the hang of it quickly enough. The trick is to drop the lead where you want the bait to go and the bait will follow. Having the paternoster link tied to the top treble, or to the wire a couple of inches above it, helps to prevent tangles and makes the job easier too. If you try to cast the bait to the target area you end up with the lead, or bait, in the reeds, or way out of position.

In such shallow water I also set the bait depth by the distance it is below the float stop, rather than the length of the paternoster link just like you would if fishing a free rover - the paternoster link is just a tether. Rods are propped up on a single rest, or laid on the reeds, with the line in a Gardner clip taped to the reel seat.

The phototrickery I wanted to try was making daylight shots look like they are taken at dusk or even at night. The first shot in this post was taken at 13.25, the one below at 14.45. Both in bright sunshine. I need to practice this, but I can see how it could be pretty effective with the right background - less sky and more trees perhaps. It just goes to show how the camera can lie.

Gradually I worked my way along the stick-ups. Watching and listening to reed buntings in their natural habitat. The floats didn't stir, save when the canal started to draw off around three thirty, which would have been round high tide at the lock gates by my reckoning. As the run off stopped the floats settled again and I made my final move for the last hour.

The sun had already gone behind a bank of cloud moving in from the south west in a sweeping curve forcing me to put my sweatshirt back on. By the time of my last move it was cold enough for the fleece and the woolly hat. This didn't deter small fish from starting to dimple the surface as the light levels dropped. There were a couple of predatory swirls either side of my rods, one looking suspiciously perch like. I was reasonably confident of a take, but none came. I wound the rods in and trudged back through the mud to the car.

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Out again at last

There was something in the air this morning that made me want to get the rods out rather than the cameras. Not having any pressing work to do as I'm awaiting a delivery of blanks and fittings next week to keep me busy I posted the two orders for bits and bobs, nipped to the tackle shop for some maggots and then headed home to make some pack-up and sort my river feeder kit out. Knowing the tide was to peak around noon I managed to time it spot on to fish as it turned.

The river had been producing big bags of chub, roach and dace through the long cold spell but I hadn't been in the mood to face the weather or the crowds that had been lining the banks - both because of the good catches and the lack of fishable stillwaters.

Needless to say when I asked an angler on the stretch I was going to fish how he was fairing I found out he hadn't had a bite in the hour and a half since he started, and nobody else around had caught much either.

The river looked in good nick, not too low, not too clear. I was still confident as I began to set up. The flow stopped just as I prepared to cast out and the river began to back up a little. After I had fished a couple of casts the tide turned and I swapped from double red maggot on a 14 to a single red on a 16. I reckoned the bright sun and clearish water might need a more delicate approach. Anticipating a huge haul of silvers I had my keepnet at the ready as I have found returning these smaller fish immediately tends to put the shoals off and catches dwindle. Unlike dumb barbel that couldn't care less about their shoalmates being caught and returned.

Fred was keeping an eye on the quiver tip while my mind and eyes wandered from the task and watched the birdlife. Apart from a wren in the bush behind me there were flocks of starlings working the field opposite, and mingling with them were smaller numbers of fieldfare and redwing.Three goosander flew downriver and I think I spied a distant peregrine. With other birds calling and being seen it wasn't a bad few hours birdwatching - if I'd been birdwatching! I've almost been sucked into the birding world by a friend of mine. Luckily I realised that I see just as many species, if not more, when I'm fishing. Purely because I'm sat in one place for a few hours. Birders tend to do that in a hide. I find hides unbearably dull after ten minutes. If I want to sit around waiting for something to happen I'd rather be it a fish hanging itself on my rig. Enough of my thankful epiphany and return to the fold of angling.

Even though it is still most definitely winter the world starts to anticipate spring once the days start to lengthen. It only takes a blue sky and sunshine to get the great tits chinking away, and every year I am still surprised to see the tips of new shoots timidly poking through the frosted earth. I should know better, because the buds forming on trees actually help push the old leaves off in autumn. Nature doesn't hang around in it's constant cycle.

Bites were slow coming. I kept fishing the same nearside line that has produced for me in this swim before. Eventually the tip did the repeated spring-back-pull-down thing and I felt the first fish of the year on the end of my line. It would have been the first fish of the year if it hadn't dropped off... The next cast was a repeat with the exception that the fish stayed hooked. It was a surprise to net a trout though. I'm not good on differentiating brown from sea trout, so I'll just say it was a trout!

Recasting to the same spot saw another trouty thing wriggling its way netwards. Every time I catch a trout I wonder why people choose to fish fro them. They're stupid and fight like erratic eels. On the plus side they can be tasty to eat, but that's about their only good point. It's no wonder there are rules making them difficult to catch, and a long close season for them on rivers. Chuck a maggot at a trout and it's yours for supper if you want it. They make barbel seem difficult to catch...

At intervals this was how things progressed. Two or three bites on consecutive casts (resulting in a trout or nothing) followed by a lull before another few bites. The one break in the routine was a fish that felt different, and a bit larger, than the small, writhing trout. I wasn't convinced until I saw a 'coarse' dorsal break surface. I was well pleased to slide the net under a 'prime redfin' that tipped the scales at a few ounces over the pound mark. Maybe I'm easily pleased when it comes to roach, or maybe it's the young lad in me, but I think any roach over a pound is worth catching. The roach is one of the most fishy of fishes, and one I grew up catching from my local canal. I slipped the fish into the keepnet ready for it to be joined by more. It didn't happen. So I took its photo through a misted up camera lens, while Fred looked on, as I packed up in the dark with frost forming once more on the banks, and on my luggage.

Weighing small fish species can be a bit of a problem. Carp or pike size, and even 'specimen size', weigh slings are unnecessarily large, plastic carrier bags are okay and easy to come by but can hold water (cough!). I've used all three in my time but have never been too happy with them. A few weeks ago after selling my boat I was sorting through some stuff I hadn't been able to get at in the garage when the boat was in residence and found an old 'sling' my mum had made for me when I was a teenager. I'm pretty sure it was based on one I had seen described in a fishing magazine. All it consists of is a square of net curtain material (floral pattern optional), with a nylon curtain ring sewn to each corner. Mine is about two feet square. It folds up neatly, almost shakes dry, and is just the right size for fish like roach, rudd, perch and dace. Almost too simple to be true!

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The turning of the year

It was the last harsh winter that started the rot. My plans had been for some dace, roach, chub and grayling fishing when winter came. Looking back I see I did manage some roach and dace fishing, but when the snows came my thoughts of travelling for the grayling and chub went west. I didn't fancy getting snowed in down a remote country lane, and motorway madness didn't appeal either.

When the river season came to a close I missed out on a last gasp barbel for the first time in a few years but was already looking forward to some sunny days and lots of tench. That didn't happen. A combination of work preventing me putting the time in and rain (putting me off sheltering in a bivvy for three days at a time) meant I didn't get to do as much as I had hoped. What time I did put in was hard work. Most of the tench anglers I spoke to said the same. The consensus being that the winter had upset the usual patterns of tench behaviour. When I did drop on the tench the big ones evaded me. I was expecting each run to produce an eight pounder and so didn't set up the tripod to get a self take of the sevens. I wish I had now! In fact I don't recall setting up the tripod once in 2010.

The tench activity lasted just one hectic morning, and despite the cold winter the weed growth was prolific. Perhaps it was nature's way of  compensating, but it made fishing tricky and I left the tench alone early for another year.

Back on the river after barbel and the fire to fish for them had gone. I always need to be learning to stay interested in something, and while I might not know everything about catching barbel I know more than enough to catch them consistently on my regular rivers. It was a simple case of rolling up, casting out, and waiting for the rod tip to pull over. I deliberately ignored banker swims and tried other spots, and still caught. For a combination of reasons driving long distances for short sessions had also lost its appeal, so my sessions on more distant barbel rivers got knocked on the head too.

Having got back in to photography earlier in the year that was providing the challenges I need to keep my mind active and stay sane, so I concentrated on taking photos. Even in my most fanatical periods of fishing I've always maintained that it was only something I did to keep my time filled and my mind occupied. Fishing is not compulsory. I got jaded with pike fishing because it had become almost like a job, turning out in order to get topics to write about and photos to accompany the articles. This blog has been in danger of pushing my fishing that way at times. It's been good to take a break from both the fishing and the blogging.

Good too to take up a camera again after almost 30 years away from 'serious' photography. Like fishing, photography makes you think, and when out in the countryside can put you close to sights that 'ordinary people' don't see. If you go looking with the right eyes. Wildlife highlights for me have included having a young kestrel fly towards me and perch a few yards away, watching two other kestrels fighting on the ground and 'squeaking' a barn owl in close one evening. Close encounters with a stoat, fallow deer, and a reed warbler have also livened up my walks with a camera.

The urge to wet a line still comes over me from time to time as I wander around wet places. More and more these days, however, it's not the size of the fish that spurs me on it's the surroundings to fish in and the methods to use that drive me. There's the bream pit I travel to that I really enjoy fishing although the bream aren't monsters, but there's no night fishing allowed making for a lot of driving at daft hours to put in the long summer day sessions. There isn't even anywhere to kip in the car in the locality, so I don't fish it as much as I'd like to.

I've been wanting to do some stillwater roach fishing for a few years. I find long range feeder fishing enjoyable as you are constantly recasting to keep the feed going in - and the fish hook themselves! A suitable water no too far from home is hard to find. The reservoir is nice enough, and while I enjoy the reliable action the fish aren't quite as big as I'd prefer to catch. Size does still matter, a few pound plus fish now and then would be nice.  I did have another couple of waters lined up for a try at roaching this winter (and I was going to chuck some pike baits out) - but the serious cold snap that has rounded off this year put the lid (literally) on those plans for now!

As it has warmed up recently, probably only temporarily, I'm starting to think of fishing again. I've not quite got the photography bug out of my system, but I want to get some more fish caught. What I need is an incentive, a challenge, something new. A possibility of joining a syndicate on a quiet lake has got me thinking of spring. I really must make sure I manage work commitments better this coming spring and put some quality tench time in somewhere or other.

My list of big fish isn't too spectacular this year - a reflection of the lack of effort I've put in, although it's better than I'd remembered and a few years ago I'd have been over the moon with the barbel, bream and tench (the male tench is still a good one by my standards). One can get a bit complacent I guess. However, I still wish I'd weighed more of those dace...

• Barbel - 9-13
  
• Bream - 7-15
• Dace - 0-08
• Roach - 1-06
• Tench - 7-13 (f), 6-14 (m)
  

No fish photos, but here are a few that aren't of fish.

Roll on spring.

Happy new year!

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Blast from the past

I've just been given an old, very old, Prowler Plus to refurbish. The rod had been bought second hand and there was a chunk of cork missing. Other than that it was in excellent condition. Below is a picture of it with the replacement cork fitted prior to final sanding.

(Click to enlarge)

The reel seat is an unbranded and rather agricultural trigger grip, but it was finding that Harrison's had a stock of them they had no use for that I started building lure rods for the burgeoning band of multiplier users. I'm guessing that was around 1995, and the Prowler Plus was developed a couple of years after that I think. The supply of those reel seats ran out just at the time that the much nicer Fuji trigger seats became available in the UK as the mid-nineties lure boom took off.

It was also interesting to note that back in those days the plastic buttons I finish the handles off with weren't available with narrow enough stems to fit inside slim blanks, but now they are. Blank technology must have moved on a little, too, since those days.

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No need for commercials

A day later than intended I bought those maggots and dusted off the Torrixes. I set the pod up in a favourite swim with a strong wind blowing from an angle behind meaning there wouldn't be too much trouble sinking the lines. The sun was shining, the air was positively warm (no need for a fleece even in the wind), and leaves were falling on the water.

All three rods were rigged up with The Rig. Unfortunately I'd picked up three 50g feeders instead of 30g ones. Not to worry. One rod was baited with two red maggots, one with a single white maggot and the third with a dendrobena. The idea was to leave the worm out in the hope of a better stamp of fish, or something different, while working the other two rods to get some bait out.

As it turned out the bobbins were hardly still from the first cast! I put the initial movements down to line bites until I wound in and found a sucked maggot. The next casts produced skimmers. Silvery, thin, skimmers. It was a bite, and very nearly a fish, a chuck. I gave up counting at ten fish.

After an hour some slightly larger skimmers started to show up. The biggest might have made 12oz, but they were all more like small bream - less silvery, darker backed, more chunky.

A 'better stamp' of skimmer

It was around this time that the pike made their presence known. I had been expecting a skimmer to get heavy at some point when a pike had taken hold, but that wasn't what happened. The pike were more cunning. Lying in wait at the point I have often found productive when lure fishing, the point where you can no longer see the bottom of the lake. What they were doing was waiting for a fish to be returned then appearing like lightning to snatch the fish close to the edge. My guess is that this strategy is used as the prey fish has nowhere to go to flee, being effectively penned by the bank it can only go left or right.

The early pike strikes were energetic and noisy affairs. As the afternoon wore on they became less frantic. I got teh impression the pie were getting full. I got a good look at one pike that seemed to me to be a low double, another I got a bit of a glimpse of when it almost beached itself was a little smaller, and I'm pretty sure there was a smaller pike still judging by the size of the vortices created when it struck.

I had been hoping to catch roach, but only one showed up around three o'clock. Rather than drop it in the margin I gave it a sporting chance by throwing it further out when I returned it!

Not a skimmer

To make my pint of maggots go further I'd bought a bag of micro trout pellets and a tin of hemp (being too idle to cook a pint in advance). The hemp and pellets were mixed and used to either fill or partly fill the feeders. It's an approach I've used before and seems to work.

Good fun though it is to catch plenty of fish, even small ones, little bream are horribly slimy. The spod mix from my tenching that is still caked on the rods has now been joined by skimmer snot. Nice.

I'm not 'rod proud'!

Despite the fact there were lots of fish in front of me the worm rod produced one skimmer, and one ruffe. The ruffe provoked a particularly violent strike from a pike that showered my legs in lake water!

Tommy ruffe

I had expected a lazy afternoon, picking up a fish or two every now and then, which was why I took my Fancy Dan camera with me to take some shots of the autumnal colours. I didn't get time with all the action! Action that has got me thinking about doing some rather more serious fishing soon. Catching a lot of fish easily is all well and good, but fewer fish of a larger size would feel more of an achievement.

I did manage to use Fancy Dan to  video one of the skimmers' final moments.

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More rod (and other) twaddle

The annual Tackle and Guns trade show is coming up this month and Harrison's are working on some new blanks which I got to waggle yesterday. Probably the nicest, to my mind, were a revamped 11ft Avon and a three piece twelve footer of around 2 to 2.25lb which was through actioned but not sloppy. I also saw a stalker that seemed a little stiff in the butt and a new (cheaper) Torrix carp blank. I hope to get a better look at these, and some others that are in the pipeline, as finished rods at the show.

Since Barbel Fishing World demanded payment or a charitable donation to use their forums I've been staying away on principle - the reason for the charge was to make everyone post under their real name, which I did anyway and so felt disgruntled. Can't say my world has crumbled without the place. I dropped by today to see what little a guest can see and there was the same old obsessing over stuff that doesn't need obsessing about.

One poster was looking for something better than a paperclip for releasing snagged feeders. Good luck in the search! Nothing that can withstand casting a six ounce feeder is going to work every time, but it is worth bearing in mind that using 30lb braid is a big help in releasing snagged feeders. As with pike bite indication you have to look at the whole 'system', and not one item in isolation, to understand how it functions.

Another topic being discussed is the age old question of how to ring a rod. There's no one right answer to this. What was mentioned was that the 1.75lb Torrix felt more like a tip to middle action than a through because of the 'unusual' ring spacing. Er, no. It feels like a tip to middle action because that's what it is, as I discovered when using mine for tench fishing. It errs to the middle, rather than the tip, but it is not through.

Off to buy some maggots now, and use those 1.75lb Torrixes for some roach fishing!

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