Barrowed a few loads of wood chippings inside the gate then scout round the pond. Greylag has hatched a clutch of pike food. It seems the duck on the dam has abandoned her eggs and my nemesis the cob swan seems to have left his penn to go it alone.
Stage 2 for the first time this year. Not sure about the weed situation out there. No one has raked it and the hemp addicted swan hasn't been arse up over it. Wind is swirling and cloud alternates with sun then lashes of rain and hail. Carping chap opposite has had a tench and is freezing his nads off in trainers, joggy botttoms and hoodie but at least he is dry. Though it looks nice here it is still bitter. We are both perched on the noddy green picnic chairs that can be found at the back of each swim. Fishing platform my arse Lord Lite. I have however screwed in some more eyed hooks at the front of the staging to drop the rests into. I am kidding myself that by being active and seeking bites I am keeping warmer than carper boi but in reality I am about 15 yards out over the water on a rickety stage with no cover at all..
Following last trip's stand-off with the now absent swan I'd salvaged the tip ring from the splintered ancient Ashurst and the Drennan Waggler was back on the road. Hot glue is good stuff. Ring came off good as gold.
Second dip and out comes a coconut. Single corn on a 14 barbless again.
As the swan is not about get a good cast feed routine going and if I keep the float still it is a bite a chuck. Now this rod is 13 foot and describes it's action as progressive. Not sure what that means but it doesn't have the grunt of the Ashurst which was a foot shorter. Does feel lovely and crisp but I do think that hit and hold is not on the cards once the lillies are properly up. Not designed for the carp puddles that's for sure.
Some of the bream are testing the rod and some are giving up but every one has that yellow kernel at the corner of the mouth. Bites are a steady sinking and slide away, tip glowing red in the still turbid water.. By the third Lord Lite has dismissed them as snotty things in a text and you can see why...
By now carper boi has had enough and is away. This chap has his spawning tubercles and rough scales already, the first I have seen like it this spring.
The Drennan peacock is getting as battered as some of the older bream. Disappointing and shoddy. The float that is. Some of the fish today though are in better condition generally.
And this skimmer is a brighter bet for the future.
Getting darker now the sun has dipped into the pines behind me. As ever today it's the single grain of corn that has deceived it. Only dropped one fish so far so that's six bream, and the skimmer plus some bits. A cold, windy, wet but busy hour and 3 quarters so far.
The prawn rod has been largely silent on it's bite alarm to the right of the swim and it is this one that is picking up the emerging pondweed that will be at the surface in a week or so if we get to the promised 20 degrees. Alarm bursts into life as two new members survey the scene and it the dashing about fight that signals it's a tench. They do love an audience it seems. No red or primrose yellow on this muscular chapess resplendent with her red eyes.
One more bream and I am making a break for it in the rain, knowing I have to fight that poxy bolt and padlock and spread the wet tackle all over the house to get it dry.
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