Short (er) session

Still shorts weather  but the heavy hoodie now required. There were only three mallard today but what pains in the ducks arse they were. Didn't start well as I'd left all my float stops at home and had to hunt round for a smaller loading weight for the puddle chucker so I  could lock it with some no. 1 shot. I did get some loose fed in but not as much as I would have liked and the ducks were constantly pecking at the float.

I tried to soak as much of the autumn glow up as possible and one proper bite led to this bream which thought it was a tench for  a while. Then it gave itself up. As they do

I was on the verge of packing up when some prodigious bubbling erupted almost at my feet. Too good an opportunity to miss so I dropped the little boilie in and the float settled then buried. I'd wondered about a mudpig given the furious nature and size of the bubbles, either way a tench had snaffled the  bait and gave me a right old tear up, mostly in the pads but the 6lb Sensor held firm and I got my prize, a spritely male, all fins and swagger.

Short(s) session

Was thinking about how soon we'd be in thermals and moon boots when winter arrived on Friday in North Norfolkcestershire but Saturday dawned fairer and the shorts were donned for a very quick bash on Golden Pond. Couple of rods out, left and right and a few 8mm pellet and 12mm Source boilies to get 'em on the prod. A pretty place is Golden Pond.

A bit like last trip out elsewhere three chances but only one ended up in the onion bag this time. First take the bream I'd hooked rolled over on the strike and was off, the second and another bream managed to retain the barbless QM1 all the way into that onion bag. 

I'd dipped the left hand rod whilst "playing" the inert snotter and once I'd recast the right hand rod I picked the leftie up to find that something had taken the boilie for a long excursion down the pond but has decided to save me the bother of winding it back attached to their gob.

Given the change in conditions again since I don't suppose this grass snake will be sunning itself again that often this year. Right by my clumsy feet too.

Sunday back in coats and jumpers as this hoolie hit town but it it didn't dampen too much the 40's weekend with thronging clouds and costume makers and hirers counting their hard won corn after a couple of lean years.

Monday and the same streets were empty and throngless just like in early lockdown times which displeased the Littlish 'Uns who had fancied a go on the (two) penny slots.

Pubs were open though.

Caster blaster

Looked at my local river yesterday, now everyone is on the water on stand up thingys and not walking the footpaths it seems everywhere is so overgrown and as for weed cutting.. found some nice spots for trotting "bigger" baits before the hoped for floods and later frosts to keep the peasants away so plans will be hatched.

I hatched a few plans after a late lunch and a longer drive to a sometimes venue down another valley intending to use some of these bonus casters  with a beefed up waggler set up just in case  a tench turned up which they sometimes do. Fed hemp, pellet and caster and some pretty roach kept me going  but then several very irritating mallard turned up and carnage ensued. Constantly swirling round the float and  making me pull at my rapidly disappearing hair. I resorted to using the rest of the casters to feed the mallards off further down the bank and put in some pellet and mini Source and came in just past the pads  with a Source under  a puddle chucker. 

When I wasn't shooing away the foul fowl I was getting little dips of the float and three times the dips became bites. The tench had turned up jut as I had hoped.

Amazing how they head for those pads at every opportunity and really test the tackle, even on a heavier float road and 6 lb Sensor. Carnage of an no-ducky nature and pads floating everywhere hence the net adornment. Mud pigs however seem to go on long surging runs and rarely bury themselves deliberately in the inviting underwater jungle. Just as well as my "big" net had got tangled up and it took an age to get it free to net this lovely old bruiser. I'd heard there were a few in the lake so nice to be able to catch one to confirm it. And weighing at around 6 times the weight of the guessed weight of the tench.  A quarter of a pound off 18lb. Happy days indeed and how quickly the nights are pulling in now.

Back home

Thursday and an early start meant an early finish. I had some old maggots and worms to use up and off to the river I went. Paltry rewards for an hours trotting the back eddy, I tried off the rickety bridge but  a 2lb plus brownie, a 10 foot drop and  a ten foot landing net pole in gusting wind meant disaster. Nice scrap though. I didn't fancy any more fruitless trotting in the wind so drowned a few worms on the tip and magically the "fishless" pool contained perch. Which was  very nice. And I do like the smell of brandlings/dendros.

And these, which wasn't quite so nice but never mind. 

Friday was Fun Fair night as the Commander in Chief was watching an Alan Bennett in a Little Theatre. Lovely evening on the coast and good for a swim too. I didn't go in.

    We didn't go on this. The House of Fun though was reported to have indeed been fun.

Saturday and  I set out my stall for bream. I had to set up in a downpour. Soon dried off in the warm wind luckily. I was on the mini flat beds and had a couple of these pretty just bigger than skimmers and a lovely (male) tench which is what I'd been secretly after. Yellow wafter was the order of the brief-ish  late afternoon. The Pink'un was completely ignored.  Intense kingfisher activity and a few swallows and martins still about.

You silly old Kent

When in Kent drink beer. This is no Shepherds Neame but standard fare for this holiday, whatever Tim Norman can shift for a couple of quid in Spoons.

We did go distinctly more upmarket in Whitstable in the Old Neptune, right on the beach and on a sunny day with a clear sea you could be abroad but it's Kent shite you are swimming in, not Spanish. 

We saw a lot of the sea, and with kids why not. They loved it.  Whitstable, Herne Bay. Margate, Broadstairs, Ramsgate, all with their own charms and often with views of distant Southend and French France  on the horizon.

Margate, fast becoming boho.

Herne Bay, kiss me quick hats vibe

Whitstable with it's black boarded faux Aldeburgh chic

Ramsgate being sub-Dover

Broadstairs was just nice.

Botany Bay was chalky.

We did venture inland to Grove Ferry for a paddle whilst I looked at the river which was rammed with roach.

And Canterbury where I didn't pay 14 quid to walk around the cathedral but did look at the river which was rammed with dace.

A cracking week away.