In between stuff I've had a few roach off the tidal, lately on corn to get past the runts.
Pre corn, and hardly a runt.
Topped off by this one at 1lb 3oz.
It's not quite so photogenic other side
Mostly fishing, mainly North Norfolk
In between stuff I've had a few roach off the tidal, lately on corn to get past the runts.
Pre corn, and hardly a runt.
Topped off by this one at 1lb 3oz.
It's not quite so photogenic other side
Friday drop by to Chicken Town aborted as work had to be done. In my time so I can sack off them hours another day without work on shoulder. Apparently today's Yoots often have a spoon taped backwards to their screens in their stinking pits to give early warning of olds entering said stinking pits. Applied physics in action.
So, stop off after sorting out more affairs down in Devil Dog Land. Pre chubbing pint (nice) and nice but ridiculously small sausage roll in the Sun. Just enough fennel in the tiny thing to make it acceptable, hot as well. The measly fuelled open fire at least gave off a pleasant woodsy aroma to compliment the ambrosial stale beer pub smell we crave. Thank god no reeking fags or latterly vapes. The last pub that I went in that had sawdust on the floor was the Norfolk Early 80's. It's now an away pub called something else for when the Stone Island clad coke snorters (no, not David Coote) arrive to see their side (usually) beat Col U.
A couple of posts to catch up to come. This one because I'm hoping to drop by Chicken Town for an hour on the way home tomorrow to see what's changed.
Chicken town was chicken-less, perhaps because of the new regs requiring any poultry or fowl to be registered. Anyways the poxy ducks were still there by Chicken Bridge so down a bit further, pellet waggler to ride the flow as I'd be casting over with a fixed spool, not a centre pin.
Unusually of late, the 'silvers' were first to the bait in front of the spotties for quite a while. Pleasing shape on this roach.
Down to do some tidying of affairs yesterday. The anticyclonic gloom that has held us under a stifling blanket of dank muting the autumn colours and dulling the splashes of red on those taking part in various Remembrance ceremonies. Some of the formalities done I met up with the Loafer in the old stamping ground, the Greyhound to exchange books (Toms Story) for a repurposed Formil container filled with hand made goodies and quantities of Chinese split shot. Not a feather inlay or bespoke walnut hand crafted float tube to be seen. Pondering on the surprising number of chem trail and off-gridders there are about. Especially in the Boondocks of the Trent and the Fens.
Down to see Pops a couple of Sundays back, more breathless than he'd before. I had a feeling and gave him a bigger hug than usual, still quite an awkward thing for him at 88. I'd got to the river and realised I'd left my phone so went back to get it before he left to meet up with my niece and made sure I hugged him again.
The river was low and and lethargic but what little flow there was did pull the waggler along enough for a few small bleak, dace and roach think it worth chasing the maggots.
Sacked off work early doors, done my bit and more last week so they owed me one. Top of the tidal, no one there so I had the whole back eddy to myself. Not sure why but the flow over the sluices kept changing which moved the fish round a bit and it wasn't that easy to get a feed, trot, bite rhythm going but when I caught they were plump things and as ever bent the tip section nicely in the flow as I batted them back up the eddy. Very pleasant hour and a bit.
Picked up the bite a chuck from Thorpeness with slightly bigger gold bars elsewhere and enough roach to have me thinking about a different approach to get a few for old times sake.
The river had changed after a couple of weeks away, a few more gaps but frustratingly fresh reeds growing up in place of the dying willow herb. Couldn't get many decent trots in but did find a much deeper area for future reference.
Not much to write home about. And sorting a tangle out and disaster as the cannibalised anti-reverse pawl popped out and that bought an end to my trip .I'd had to tighten the locking nut a couple of times beforehand. By chance I saw it as I made one last check having broken the rod down and packed up.
Cut to today. I 'd got some fresh reds and even casters for a crack on a different stretch. Got the broken down rod out to retackle and the spool fell of the reel. I'd lost the locking nut somehow. If only I'd retackled on the bank and made sure the locking nut was tight. Out with the other pin (also without a anti reverse pawl) to nick the locking nut. Family stuff intervened and I ended up with an hour at best. l need an excuse to use them up the week. Perhaps those roach.....
An unseen knot kept jamming in the rings, once sorted found some nice fish in the flow from the weir till it was too dark to see the float. Roach, perch and chublets but no dace. Nice to get amongst them.
Gonna have to find some spare parts for my (now discontinued) reels.
Thorpeness Meare is the centrepiece of the holiday village created by Ogilvie early in the 19th Century on the Suffolk Coast. Shallow, weedy and and extensive at 60 acres it's a lovely place with it's colourful hire boats and the iconic Head in the Clouds which is clearly visible from Aldeburgh.
Bit more warmth to tide us over until the long dark descends upon us. An hour on Golden Pond before dusk, little movement but a tiny fizz of bubbles and this cormorant scarred skimmer took a fancy to a Swim Stim durable hooker. Hateful birds. I'd lost a puddle chucker early doors but a fitful breeze conspired to drift it cocked just into netting range at the same time.
Out prospecting for new waters, seems day ticket venues are increasingly using book by phone app
and stuff now. I'm not sure if Tinder or Grindr would be best for this one: