This blog should feature tench...

We have had miserable northerlies for what seems an age. The sky is constantly grey and often just revelling in sending down mean, sharp showers and almost imperceptible but maddening spots and spits. It's warmer out than in though and I have to watch the Commander in Chief like a hawk in case the heater gets turned on. That is before EON double my direct debit so they can charge up to the ceiling price. Bastards. And it's dark at 20.05 tonight.

Anyway, I'm still after a bream or tench or two before hitting the rivers. One trip this weekend, and  it was a case of might have beens really. Should have gone double flatbed feeders but went with the waggler, lost one unseen unstoppable to a hook pull ( I'd say pike as it was relentless rather than a flat rodder)  then two tench, one after all the hard work was done and the hook pinged out at the net, and one after a last minute dash into the pads to my right.

Of course the barrys stayed on to stink up the stink net even more and at least there is token resistance on the waggler rod and 3 lb line till they do that John Wilson swimmers roll and flop onto their side.

One fish did more than offer token resistance on the light tackle. A real humdinger of a protracted battle, often near but not quite at the surface. It kept away from the pads which meant it wasn't going to be a tench and it was too heavy to be a foul hooked barry. I thought I saw a row of scales under  a fin and broke out the 42 inch net, thinking it might be one of the mirrors,  they turned out to be spots as it was a decent pike, hooked in the scissors and away from it's teeth. No weighing or hold and grin, just a couple of frames for ID purposes then back in the margins to recover before surging powerfully away, followed by an even bigger companion. That's the eye of  a killer, with a taste for corn and dendros.

 

Nearly all breamadelica

Had one of those hour or so passouts so took it. In  fact I was out and back again in a timed 61 minutes most of which  as spent on Rose Tinted Pond on the dam wall, barely 3 feet from the roaring traffic  with just a crash barrier and poacher fence for protection. This time last year it was dry past those marginal plants, an amazing recovery that we thought wouldn't happen. The nudges on the float from the small fish  had just been replaced by the first proper dips when the heavens opened and though the trees  helped protect me from the rain the road spray forced me off. Proper dark by 8.45 as well. 

Back on the more characteristically coloured Golden Pond  for a little bit longer on Sunday so I headed for my Island Paradise, again with the Puddle Chucker and a dwindling supply of mini Source. Three proper bites from the Spicy Sausage inspired cauldron of bubbles before the float was no longer visible in the murk. It's hit and haul to get them away from the pads into open water from here, and it's a delight to be able to net just the fish once they've capitulated and not half a ton of accompanying silt. 

Tench don't often capitulate but this one did until it got in the stink net. I'll forgive it because it had a glorious Birds Custard yellow belly.

Standard capitulating snottie to end the session. Most excellent. I left the stink net there to dry as it is becoming repellent now.

Bream for the Loafer.

It seems the Loafer (AKA Essex Scribbler) dislikes bream almost as much as eels. So, to keep him quiet there will be bream today. 

The very brisk south westerly and overcast conditions seemed perfect but by the time I'd got to the farm pond the cloud had been burn off so I wasn't as confident  about bagging up as I had been earlier.. nice to hear that India were loosing a few wickets though. Jimmy Anderson at it again.

It seems that wagglers these days come in loaded versions mostly. I like to leave the rod made up and just slip the float out of the adapter, seems I might have to resort to float stops and link swivels though I could leave the loaded section on the line if the stem can be detached. The puddle chuckers  I use have a sliding clip fitting but I guess are more costly to produce.

I'm also looking round for hooks as my fave B50's are getting scarce, these aren't fine wire but fairly wide and neat too though the micro barbs are really micro from a bait holding perspective . 

.

That south westerly  was over my shoulder which meant the hook bait was landing well in front of  the float, good for tangle reducing but  also good for a nice long drop which meant the roach were getting to it before it hit the deck. Pretty roach but not what I came for.

Not long though before the larger skimmers then the bream moved in over the feed and pushed the roach out. They ranged from absolute minters...

to in-betweeners..

and on to  absolute munters.

A very pleasant afternoon. 

Root Canal Work

Another after lunch before tea trip, this time to North Norfolk's only canal. Wild fishing almost, certainly nothing stocked so what is here  is natural, apart from a few transported livebaits perhaps. It can be a busy spot enjoyed by the locals but lovely none the less. This large pound above a mill (now bijou loft living spaces) and a lock is shallow and very weedy but a noisy purple weed eater does mooch up and down now and then.

I'd have liked to lay down some hemp and fished corn but where the weed had been raked in front of me vast swathes of silkweed had grown up so just fed maggot and tried to make things a bit buoyant with fake maggots. It's close enough to clear a couple of spots and keep on top of them so maybe I'll do that.

Feeding got them boiling but I wasn't really able to work out how to get  a long slow sinking hook link to work with the weed  and drift. A long pole would have been spot on I think. I did try out the new version of the trusty Drennan Windbeater but it was ridiculously buoyant and the thin stem very tangle prone. Needs some weight down in deeper water really. So I guess the pair I bought will stay in the float tube for a while. A proper lift bite would be something to behold.

Anyhoo, a few did succumb, roach and perch but no rudd which was a surprise or dace either. I did have something bubbling close in, definitely fish not just gas escaping as the bubbles moved. There are as you'd imagine bream and tench in the canal so maybe one of those?

 

We'd booked a table in Cromer at the Welly for an early-ish tea out but the fryer had broken so no food service. Being very English the Commander in Chief queued in the rain for take out new potato chips whilst we went on the beach  with everyone else in the rain.

And of course once we'd eaten wet humble pie the rain stopped. The Hundred on the radio on the way home was good though,  the first 200 total and poor old Steven Finn going for 51 for 2 in his three sets. Let's not talk about the Test Match.

No bream today

Road works again, lots of fun getting in and out of the majestic mile long sweep of the gravelled drive of BureBoi Villas for a while then.. 

Another sortie on the river before tea, this time in a local swimming spot so I opted for a float so at least the general area I was fishing would be visible to the local Crewdem. I know early morning or later would be better but the fish must get used to the commotion. A bonus was fishing in shade and I love the sound and smell  of a weir. A swing out to the eyeot and trot up the back eddy. I'll try wading out to it next time.

Must have been thick with fish as not much trot before a dip of the float and a nice show for the passing traffic. The extra length of the Greys 15 footer very useful for keeping the line  to the float under control at that distance, and a bit more impressive to look at in action too. This was said action with a skippy little brownie on the end of my line.

Said skippy brownie.

The rest on the float were dace, not anything really decent but fun anyway. I do think I need to get set up better on that eyeot with a decent feeding pattern to get the better dace and roach on it, and a few chublets too. And of course some brownies.

The Crewdem must have been called home for their Turkey Twizzlers as it went quiet so spent 10 minutes rolling a worm and had this bristling swaggery perch before going home for my tea too.

Which wasn't Turkey Twizzlers this time anyway.

In the mix

Bastard rain replaced by bastard sun. Headed to the poplars for some shade but it took a sweltering, eyeball sweating  hour for the sun to dip low enough for some relief. And that was after bashing down acres of Rosebay to get make a swim. At least no Himalayan Balsam yet. Pissed off a pair of otters with my bashing and thrashing. And once my eyeballs had stopped sweating I could see that I'd be fishing blind as the river was the colour of tea, I guess after the bastard rain we've had. No river gauge reports on this river system.

Wasn't  a bite  a trot but a few came my way on double reds, and one decent unseen adversary that shed the hook after taking line from the pin. Felt more roachy than perchy. Speaking of which three or four times a perch or perhaps a brownie was chasing dace or roach over in the far margin. No bream pics this time.

I'll go back when the heat dies down to open  up a few more spots. Shame the cattle have poached so much bank. A real broken ankle waiting to happen scenario. I need to make a couple of sturdy but light mini pallet platforms to stash in hedges, or perhaps "come across"   those heavy duty plastic ramps the utilities use to  cover the trenches they dig in footpaths. I'll avoid those footpaths where I've left a 3 foot deep hole uncovered...it won't be my broken ankle/neck of femur at least. Always look on the bright side.

Bastard rain

Whilst the Levant burns we are getting wet. A lot. I chanced my luck yesterday on the Next Nearest but as I was going on the staging didn't pack a brolly, and can't really float fish under one anyway.  I'd been to Dangling Indirect on the way and the first few spots hit the screen on the way over triggering the auto wipers and the auto lights too.  I contemplated things for a while in the lake car park listening to a washed out TMS and as the rain spots hadn't really taken off  spun the code combo on the gate and got myself set up for  a waggler attack with corn and dendros. I'd just balled in 5 jaffas of left over Black Bream, pellet, corn and hemp when a sudden squall heralded stair rod rain from over my right shoulder. I hastily covered things up  as best I could and headed back to the car  to steam up the windows for  a while.

Got back to the sodden gear after 25 minutes and set about building up the swim with more pellet and corn and the resident U-boat got herself busy charging at the roach I was returning. A serious lump of  a fish. But one that's out of bounds for now at least.

Lost a fish that was heavy and stubborn to a hook pull then a turbocharged thing had me thinking of tench until I saw a bronzed flank and  a dendro hanging  accusingly from a pectoral fin. 

Next one was a tench but after several left and right ding dongs the hook pulled again. Do need to get on Fleabay for some #12 B560's  if I'm going to use the corn/ dendro cocktail or thee grains of corn more.

Another dash to the car  then  time for a couple more bream before narrowly avoiding an absolute monsoon and heading back the homestead for tea. Got  a week off now so as well as days out and gardening I'm gonna mix it up  a bit I hope. But if I don't and stick to the same old you'll have to look at a  lot of bream.

The roar of the greasepaint

Tuesday and it was on board a Naarich bound Stadler Bi-mode Basil, QR code E match ticket on my phone at the ready. A swift pint in the Glasshouse and then we were striding down Prince of Wales Road in a sea of yellow and green, once home to all man and woman and inbetweeners could want from the night time economy, now just dusty empty shells in the main. Covid has shafted most of the night clubs and eateries. 

Up the concrete steps and first sight of  a fantastic pre season billiard table sward for the first time for two long years, glistening under the lights. 10,000 in as well. Soak it all up.

Had forgotten the uneasy miasma of Lynx, burgers and stale Carling breath but not the buzz of it all. Coming home indeed even as a neutral. In truth League One visitors  Gillingham FC were no match for a slick passing Norwich City, even without 7 first team players available through Covid. 5-0 was flattering for Gillingham,  you could see their keeper  almost praying to be subbed by the second half and 4 had gone in.

It really was classy stuff, and though he's a lightweight small girls blouse Toddy Cantwell was a good  wavy Alice-banded locks head and shoulders above anyone else on the pitch in terms of movement, touch and passing.  Check out his bicycle kick shot come assist.  Different gravy as they say. Will be a surprise if he's still with City by deadline day even with the  Canaries being for this season Top Tier Premier Leaguer's. Money is on him going to Villa to join ex Canary  Buendia, especially if short socks Grealish leaves Villa Park. And I wonder how soon he learns VAR is not always a friend of the boy who cried wolf. Speaking of Grealish......

45 minutes to kill before the Vomit Comet last Basil home and I got right shafted in the Complete Angler. £5.80 for  a pint of Camden Hells.

No bugger was observing this on the train either.

Hidden in plain sight.

Thank goodness that we can now just turn up at a National Trust location again, card in phone case for the car park machine again without all that pre-booking nonsense.  A geocaching we went, though giving  a Little Un the phone to find them is a bit hair pullingly stressful. so I slunk about in the undergrowth (nothing unusual there I hear you say) whilst the Commander in Chief did the hair pulling.

Just so happened that I was slunking right next to the cache.  In built navigation skills, a sixth sense, call it what you will... it was in a decent container too and swapping of objects  ensued. Little Uns chose balloons that lit up.

The next one was very cunningly concealed though  the contents a bit underwhelming,  just a scroll of finders to add too. I had slunk by it without noticing.

Then time for  a look round the Walled Garden at breakneck speed  as the Little Uns wanted to get to the Mud Kitchen. I sought out water.

The Mud Kitchen had been disappeared by Covid safety revisionists but the Little Uns were distracted by the little tiny frog/toad lets that were just about everywhere. Hope the Little Uns didn't hear the popping of collateral damage...ribbit ribbit.