You little tinca

Monday and the weather had broken. Along with a partial lifting of the no-fly zone, for non carps anyway. Sheringham to Yarco that good old favourite the harr had blown in, shrouding everything in cold, clinging damp grey.  I set off to the very local water at about 1.30. Even here, the mist was lifting, wraith like from the surface of the pond. I had a plan to head to the other end of the pond in search of  a tench or two. A fellow member  was ensconced on Stage 2 and fishing over  a Jacuzzi of bubbles.

Much shallower here and it took a while for the pigeon feed to do it's trick, tight to the pads. A brimmer (not quite skimmer or bream) and a rudd and then as a newbie was scouting the prospects tinca on, according to plan. Not quite to plan though as it beat me up before making off with my Hook. Never mind, where there is one..

One of the yellow bellied ones that bent the Drennan Waggler rod very nicely and one I really ought to have put it  on the scales. Strange deformation to the upper lobe of the tail fin.

Another visit, this time from  Liam and again the game surges  brightening up the gloom. Do love fishing the waggler. This one verging on red around the belly and that classic paint brush tail . Cheers for the help with the pics Liam.

A fellow blogger recently asked if all zebra were the same size (more or less)? 

http://byjayzs.blogspot.co.uk/. 

Why is then  that fish species seem to be so varied in  their appearance or size?

Rain stopped play very prematurely and I and Lee the bream machine decamped fairly sharply, well chuffed with our short afternoon's work. 

Not so  chuffed with the Champ play off bore match, though nice to see some fresh blood heading up into La La Land.

And at least Full Kit Wanker John Terry didn't get to sneak on the pitch in the FA Cup final. That man is a despicable gob shite.

Hot, hot heat

Certainly has been a scorcher this week. Enough to get the fish on the Blue Lagoon in the upper layers and beginning to gather in twos and threes.

That is a very long fish.

Have been tucking in under the tree canopy on the very local water for an hour or so and  as well as this small pike which had been charging around the swim before snaffling my prawn

had this freshly minted fish that has just stepped up a weight division

Very short range fishing just off the dam.

Temporary halt called to fishing so had a good look round on Sunday. Rhododendron and yellow flag iris showing well now

Remember fishing at Oxnead as a very young Bureboy under those poplars. It seemed much deeper then but just as clear. First time I used groundbait, a packet of Winfield  aniseed groundbait from Woolies. Can still picture the small roach and gudgeon showing over the white patch on the river bed. Chased a big eel along almost to the top of this bend, much to my excitement  but also much to the chagrin of the floppy hatted serious speccie hunter type hunkered down in the far bank greenery.

An armada of chub interspersed with bream, which the floppy hatted serious speccie angler was probably fishing for way back then as they were very well known and written about on that stretch, and probably by him.

The neglected and forlorn Scottow Pond, once renowned for tench and perch, and great clouds of daphnia.

And to round off the day a very pleasant barbie, swifts screaming overhead and alcohol guzzled  I certainly won't be steaming  or boiling asparagus again, Flipping gorgeous. Corn on the cob and bacon wrapped spring onion or baby leeks next time as well.  And some big ole prawns.

Summer breeze

Summer breeze makes me feel fine, blowing through the jasmine in my mind.

May heat kicking in and a glorious late afternoon. Pulled  in at Selbrigg Pond and stretched the old legs.  Chem trail conspiracy freakoids will be going spare today I think. Reach for the tin foil hats nurse. There is a snapping turtle or similar in the middle of that lovely weed.

Tea troughed and chores done off to check the river and the  Blue Lagoon.  River looking spot on with the recent flush of rain. Billy big balls spends most of his time under this bush and looks rather forlorn.

Robbie of the North  up at the mill, waiting for the spinners to fall.

Spawning frenzy on the gravels tonight as well. Hopefully the recent flush of cabbages will be suitable spawning substrate.

 Then back home across the Savannah of the Serengeti as wine o'clock beckoned .

Here comes the rain again....

Second that emotion. Or something like that

Saturday night and the feeling is right. An hour and a half on the very local water, again within feet of the boy racers and numerous ambulances. Even with the traffic roar the noise of the jays and magpies screeching was rather loud. Foxes barking in the Keepers Wood and even before 8pm  the holy trinity of barn, little and tawny owls. The avian version of Crouchies left, right and header for Ingerland . No dive bombing kingfisher though.

Keeping low.

Took a while to get them going then a lift and glide and the Hutchy 12 footer hooped over. Deffo a mudpig but no more than 20 yards taken off the reel. Rod soaks it all up good as gold. Close in, reach for net as it makes for the left hand alder and hook pings out, float flicking up into right hand alder. Tempted to stay on a little longer, Cue deluge and certainly no apre le.

Sunday and bright and warm and on the Blue Lagoon

Steady stream of small roach and tiny skimmers on the drop, an eel of about a pound and this modest but spawn filled little beauty. Carp boshing on the wind and gorging on tadpoles.  Kingfisher at it all day. Quite surprised at the end when I lifted out how much weight I had amassed. And the bright red glow of my sun burnt knees. No 10K Paras run for me Lord Light. 1 .48 with a 35 kg pack and boots? Good stuff.



Day soured by recidivist and extremely violent poacher and equally foul mouthed accomplice. 3rd time now and hopefully he'll get his legal come uppance and her by dint of joint enterprise once they are ID'd. Not  a tin of Tyskie, handy placcie bag and disposable BBQ to be seen by the way. Home (ish) grown knob head of the highest order.

Hybrid-eyes

In the midst of the ransomware heist I discover that the clever nurse had printed off her clinic list in the morning so I  did get my turn in the chair and with the aid of Dynarod she mined about 30 years of tar from both of my lugs. At first the world was suddenly a very noisy place and I could hear everything. Actually, really everything. Christ birds are loud...... I have now turned the TV down from 28 to 10.

I have decreed that any hacker, from a spotty youth in his fart filled bedroom to organised boiler room gangs and everywhere in between shall be forced to publicly eat their own filth on a loop. 

Bit coin my arse. Word is the codes were stolen from our own  spooks in the first place. And sent out again at the behest of that mop haired freak from North Korea. Whose people have to eat grass and leaves to survive. And not shit on a solid gold toilet  like the tangarine buffoon over the pond.

That aside it was quite a good weekend. Wind no longer from the NE and temperaures hitting 23C. 

The copper beech has yet to hit it's peak.

Jasper Farqhuart Mug-Brown is feasting on mayflies

And the blubells are lording it in the shade whilst the kek and mayflower swell and froth like a new romantic's frilly blouse. Won't be long till we get the sweet chestnut jizz smell.

 

Still no swifts but they're on their screaming, scything way.

Saturday and on the very local water by 2pm. Commander in Chief pleased I'd had to get pre-cooked hemp for a change. Not  a red maggitt to be had in town. 2nd stage and  mostly Heinz 57 freshly minted skimmerry hybrids snaffling the corn on the drop. This has jumped into bronze territory, and is the real deal.

Big golden hybrid that sadly left it's fighting boots at home. 4.12 and solid. Spawning bumps evident. This one has not got the reddish fins that some do here.

An old friend with no pelvics wrapped things up at 5pm. Considerably bigger in frame than its half breed mate but lighter at 4.09.

A much later start on the very local water on Sunday (neary 8pm) saw  me along the road bank, just an otter fence and crash barrier away from the very busy road and with minimal gear. 

Different  but still float based tactics employed, a prawn on  a size 8 and straight through 12lb line. Using my old Hutchy 12 footer but with an over gunned 6000 size baitrunner. Fished over pigeon conditioner just off the bank. Potomogeton  and bisort twitching. Started off  with the float fished flat double rubber. Water begining to shake gently as they found the grub. I saw the first bite easily but missed and ended up in the alder. Slid the top rubber down and the float easier to see in the descnding gloom. Another missed bite and then next put in no mistake as the float rose, lay flat then snaked along. Zooming off like a tench and this fish really did fight. A breamy dorsal but a thicker profile and flash of gold.

Another hybrid, ths one golder and with  that maroony red to the fins. Smaller at 4.01 but a real corker of a fish.

Mssed  one more bite (mud pig judging from bow wave) and of by 9pm. Must get me a Drennan Tench Float rod for these sort of tactics.  Lovely jubbly 

Suffolk alive-taste a rainbow of fruit flavours

If it is Bureboytribe weekend away then it rains and is cold. And it was. Kessingland beach was bright and brisk briefly. Southwold, later was wild, windy and chuffing freezing. So it was a contrast to have to ditch the jumpers half way round the nearby zoo.

Down on the Skittles farm.

Talk about bigging yourself up.

True to form I was more interested in the watery side of things along the Hundred River.

No swifts yet. May is the month of verdant bursting out all over isn't it?

Away day shambles

Last trip down to E10 for a while then...

Our recent tradition of an away day in Leyton  will be interrupted  for at least  a year as Orient have fallen off the bottom rung of the Pro football ladder.  Shame, easy to get to by train unless there is a replacement bus serviced or squeaky bum late night connections via Cambridge  and/or Ely. So, part journey tickets discarded it was into the Bureboy Charabanc. You can even park in residential streets right outside the ground.

Not your everyday discards in Narfuk that's for sure.

An hour or so before a RV with the Metropolitan Elite so a stroll was in order. Hair is short, but big in Leyton.

I do prefer the warm yellow London brick but always like these shop tops

For when you are not  quite sure.

The Temple of Mammom. I detest Malls with a passion.

That famous skyline laid on foundations made of  the crushed and under trod masses. Who just love  a Mall. I expect  Lord Lite thinks a Velodrome is for washed up has been road racers like Wiggo.

And the Olympic legacy writ large

The thronging tide of Mammom worshipers clearly come in waves of demographic types.

And  where are the knives and forks we get in Wimpy?

Wonder if he has ever been in a KFC? Or a Paddy Power?

"Poor litle rich boy, coming round here. This aint Broken Britain, this is Broke in Britain"

Back to the strange middle class enclave huddled around the Saturday Food Market.

And who hasn't done this ( a woman for starters)?

By now the Metropolitan Elite had arrived so we decamped to the Away pub, a no craft beer zone of course.. Loud, brash and beer and shorts fuelled banter. Such fun.

In touch with the middle class "vibe" a protest against merciless asset stripping of a footbal club by it's absentee owner was occurring.

With the suits looking on

I wonder if we will ever enter these  portals again?

These ears have made him his living for many  years. Urban myth has it that Steve Lamacq lives on a diet of dry roast peanuts and cider.

Restricted view

I guess we must have scored?

This put the already dejected Orient faithful into the Stygian darkness of despair. So, with touching empathy the away boys decided to lighten the mood.  You can't hold down class.....

The ridiculous chest jutting open armed  slack jawed posturing of the nylon clad drones will not impede the passage of the sacred large teapot.

The usual nonsense in the box

Brief relief to the downtrodden home support from a screamer from a product of the Col U Academy, obscured by that fecking pillar was soon dashed by a death blow that made the away support begin to think play-offs were  almost within their grasp.

And in short order surely the coup de grace (again).

So, 3-1 down, 4 minutes to go and the  home support were galvanised by a possibly pre-ordained signal from the gods. Or someone behind the goal

Farce descended

Rather than enforcing the clear signage

London's finest decided to deploy significant resources to sorting out a possible ringleader, though I though the wheelie riding oldie was far more suspect. The English Football League cited strenuous efforts to clear the pitch. Not sure a  straggly line of stewards  surrounding about 91 degrees of the croud is strenuous..

An even more cringe worthy than Delia's "Let's be having you" pleas from the "Gaffer" of "Listen, listen" could not avoid the inevitable "cancellation "of the game at about 5.45pm.

https://instagram.com/p/BTej1uJDvBG/

Presumably  a 0-3 away win  imposition would have influenced the play off race by giving Col U an extra goal  advantage so  much, much later the remaining 4 minutes were played out behind closed doors, with Orient playing keep ball in their own half untroubled by the Col U players.

Oh well, wonder where we will be travelling to next season?