Monday, 7 September 2020


I spent an age in indecision before looking out at the gloom and wind and chucking everything breamy in the charabanc. Homestead bound. No indecision on the leg wear, shorts all day. I can't stand the feeling of trousers after  a spring summer and autumn without them (except for work and lets face it, what the Zoom camera doesn't see..) and if I become a postie when I grow up then nearly all year round it seems.

Of course, as soon as I pulled into the car park it turned out (too) nice again with barely a zephyr of wind and bright, hot sun. No really soup conditions but in for a penny....cream of tomato which is my fishing go to.

The Bream Botherer in Chief was in the Royal Box so Long Bank it was and the method rods were soon out. And not in much as it was a bit slow. Kingfisher antics, and some over here son, on my head shenanigans kept the boredom at bay. Mostly anyway. The fish were there but being a bit picky.

Three bream eventually succumbed and all as different in character as bream can be. Ponderous equally though, on the heavier 1.5 lb tc  12 footers

Neat and tidy

Dark and  a bit ragged round the edges

Thick set and fresh looking.

I'd mentioned previously pikey action but this one stumped  me. Some twitches  and then a decent butt ringer A good fish in , and sort of jagging/tail bashing like a smaller tench. Then a lunge, swirl and the feeder came flying back at me. With an addition. An impaled tiny roach. Scuffed up too. What ever took it really did not feel like a jack. Answers on a post card please .