Saturday 20 January 2018

He who dares.....

Rods were in the boot despite  Thursday's forecast hoolie as it was forecast to drop right off just about early leave off.  Hoolie it was and a power cut cut short my posh coffee opportunity on the way in..Work demands when I got there past several fallen trees meant they stayed in the boot however. 

Thursday's graft meant Friday was a goer from lunch though but the forecast was  for  a sharp frost, and the drains do get a lid on quite quickly. Rods in the car none the less and as the sun rose the black ice formed slowing the journey considerably. I was fortified with some power resumed posh coffe so  ploughed on, if a tad gingerly. Work worked  I headed the 15 or so miles westward and was pleased to see the majority of the local drains free. Border lands  here and though I had not quite crossed county lines the beer beckoned me that away. A pint of Elgood's Cambridge. 


Given the many miles of Fen waterways and the usually steep banks means for the short time angler at least safe access is the prime factor in choosing a spot. 


Armed with local intelligence that catch and take was fairly standard in the town reaches I headed to a flatter area just below a lock  jealously guarded by no fishing signs, ostensibly for safety but  to my mind to reinforce the primacy of boating access. Bleak House would be a good description being as it is in the arse end of nowhere.




Looked lovely but that biting  wind........


Casting round with a shad revealed that the cabbage beds were fairly dormant but induced no interest.


Given the relatively benign weed  I opted to twitch the pollan back from the far shelf or back along the near cover. Sometimes the urge to cast to a certain spot, even if its only a couple of yards from where the bait currently is has to be heeded. Urge spot.


A sudden localised spotting of rain round the urge directed float turned out to be either scales (pollan shed scales everywhere) or oils drifting up from the bait as it was picked up from the bottom and the float began to head back down to the town stretch in the jaws of this plump snapper. Got the fins and frame of one that might make the big time unless it gets banged in the head, stuffed in a plastic bag and chucked on a barbie.




Job done in my eyes but always worth hanging around just in case. In this case the worth waiting for was the brief sunset behind the pollards.


I 've got a new 15 foot float road burning a hole in my study and I am itching to get it river tested. Tomorrow? 

3 comments:

  1. BB, I've had pike on that stretch to just over 15lbs but our Eastern European friends have all but fished it out. There used to be a lot of Zander too. Most of those who fish it are usually pissed. There are/were some big perch where the dykes run in but I think they've all been cooked. John

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