Bream or bust

Saturday, and batteries somewhat charged by the slow boating yesterday, but mostly by the return of the Yorkshire Tyke (formerly a Metropolitan Elite) saw us heading of to Witton Woods as made immortal by Normal for Norfolk. No, not he of the bushy eyebrows from last weekend, a  different one. And yes, it is Witton Woods and always has been. Not Bacton Woods, or Wensum Forest. Get orf moi laand. The newt pond is still there, sort of. We've been coming here since about when the Yorkshire Tyke was born.

Up and down, I'm up the wall, I'm up the bloody tree....the Pogle Tree in this case

I found a few canes of raspberries  in amongst the briars.

Then home for the coming together of several bubbles for the first time since the New Year it seemed.

An ice cream on Walcott Beach as the tide came in, sea flat calm and then off to the farm pond for an hour. Back on the mini boilie under  a puddle chucker and twice I made contact with a bream. Neither really fought but in the deeper water at least offered some resistance. Here's the bigger of the pair at 6.10

And at a few ounces less it's room mate.

Today? Farm pond again and  a pesky tench broke my beloved 13 foot Drennan Tench and Specimen Float rod as it surged to my right. In 3 places. They are rare as rocking horse shit now though I do have one that is missing about 3 inches off the tip that has been waiting for me to find a tip ring for a while. I had a 15 foot Greys as back up so persevered for while longer but my heart wasn't really in  it although my dismay was briefly lifted by an actual fight from a bream. Mostly because it was hooked firmly in the root of it's right pectoral fin.  Another one from the 6 pounders dorm.

Oh well, it's off to EBay I go...