A most obliging species

 Legals and lunch done in Ipswich then a battle through the tail back from a  carriageway closure at the A14/A12 interchange meant I was late for a meet up with The Loafer, up from his lergy bed after  a prolonged lay off. Chub on the menu, buckets in hand, annoying folding seats in the car boots. 

Pathetic little slices in this Warby blue loaf,  selected to cut down in bulk in the big green bucket, Two baits to a slice and mean thin slices too.

As his his way the Loafer had a chub almost before I'd sprawled myself, chair less on the bank.

As he passed for swims afar I moved into the next swim down and first cast the tip  relaxed slightly, tapped then jagged round. In and out of near bank snags, and that lunge they do into the waiting net. A  plump chub #6 hook looking small in it's big, slobbering gob. Standard chub size for this lower end of the river. We sniggered about reported 6lbers in the "new club stretch" above the Mill.

 

One more for the Loafer, standing heron-like to fish before we trudged back to the cars. That sickening moment when you can't find the car keys in the key pocket. Is the car locked Loafer? No, and there, blinking accusingly were the Loafer's keys in the ignition barrel. Phew as Wordle has it when you crack the puzzle on the last line.

10 foot down

Had a load of in and out of the freezer several times corn and hemp to use up and some reds on the turn so headed for the Aquarium. It was free, and plumped for  a spot where the wall is recessed for the lock gates.

Got fed up with the line getting caught up in the trees with the  the 15 footer so broke out the shorter waggler rod, not ideal fishing bottom end only so close to the rod tip and I had a loaded waggler so not much weight down  (I like to get the bait on the deck quick 10 foot down here) but the (mainly) dace didn't mind double caster or corn and I amassed a tidy bag, every drop a coconut in an hour in the gloom.

Back the next day, intending to try a spot at the tail of the adjacent mill pool but it was being used by the Coastguards for training  and the Aquarium was free. I had moved the pin on the 15 footer to a shorter rod and with weight down now plumbed a bit more accurately, packed with fish again as they were taking the SSG I was plumbing with. Corn straight away, and this time it was mainly roach, with a few dace and chublets. Coconut shy again. Happy days.

Bert

18C. End of November. Crazy. Tried the Aquarium but a wind tunnel and 12 feet of line six feet up didn't work. Pin man trotting backwards for pairs of eyes. Pool too pacey so fished the tail and a nest of chublets close in. 

Monday dawned and 6C. Topsy turvy.

Roachtastic

 In between stuff I've had a few roach off the tidal, lately on corn to get past the runts.

Pre corn, and hardly a runt.

Topped off by this one at 1lb 3oz. 

It's not quite so photogenic other side

No Chicken Town.

Friday drop by to Chicken Town aborted as work had to be done. In my time so I can sack off them hours another day without work on shoulder. Apparently today's Yoots often have a spoon taped  backwards to their screens in their stinking pits to give early warning of olds entering said stinking pits. Applied physics in action.

So, stop off  after sorting out more affairs down in Devil Dog Land. Pre chubbing pint (nice) and  nice but ridiculously  small sausage roll in the Sun. Just enough fennel in the tiny thing to make it acceptable, hot as well.  The measly fuelled open fire at least gave off a pleasant woodsy aroma  to compliment the ambrosial stale beer pub smell we crave. Thank god no reeking fags or latterly vapes. The last pub that I went in that had sawdust on the floor was the Norfolk  Early 80's. It's now an away pub called something else for when the Stone Island clad coke snorters (no, not David Coote) arrive to see their side (usually) beat Col U.

 

Straight to the Banker as I was on curfew, Warby Orange for hook bait, still 3 or so baits from a slice but thicker. Thick enough for another first cast  tap and stab round. Chub make an instant dash for any near bank snag and this one was no exception. Bully tactics won out. Passer by did an ok job of pics, fill in flash helping.

The next banker was mobbed by ducks, so snuck in a gap in the thorn bushes. For the first time fish started topping,  too splashy for roach. lots of taps, considering dropping down to a 10 in case the roach were down low on the white gold when one stuck. Home time, curfew beat with seconds to spare.

Back track

 A couple of posts to catch up to come.  This one because I'm hoping to drop by Chicken Town for an hour on the way home tomorrow to see what's changed.

Chicken town was chicken-less,  perhaps  because of the new regs  requiring any poultry or fowl to be registered. Anyways the poxy ducks were still there by Chicken Bridge so down a bit further, pellet waggler to ride the flow as I'd be casting over with a fixed spool, not a centre pin.

Unusually of late, the 'silvers' were first to the bait in front of the spotties for quite a while. Pleasing shape on this roach.

This one having the dark colouration and more rounded caudal fin lobes I only seem to see this far up river.

I've noticed in general that some dace seem to be developing a plumper body shape too.

Inevitably the spotties did turn up in numbers and that tends to see the roach and dace back off. Plenty of starburst patterns on them.

Antidote

Down to do some tidying of affairs yesterday. The anticyclonic gloom that has held us under  a stifling blanket of dank muting the autumn colours and dulling the splashes of red on those taking part in various Remembrance ceremonies. Some of the formalities done I met up with the Loafer in the old stamping  ground, the Greyhound to exchange books (Toms Story) for a  repurposed Formil container filled with hand made goodies and quantities of Chinese split shot. Not a feather inlay or bespoke walnut hand crafted  float tube to be seen. Pondering on the surprising number of chem trail and off-gridders there are about.  Especially in the Boondocks of the Trent and the Fens.  

The Stour being  clear, low and almost static meant trotting out of the question, and a bucket of liquidised bread and  a small Warby Blue loaf would be my way to go for an hour and a bit till dark and parking ticket expiry. Primed four likely spots with handfuls of compressed white gold, the particles  drifting down almost vertically given the meagre flow. 

Two SSG on a short link with float stops and decent size 6 wide gape hook. 2 or 3  hook baits from a slice. I probably linger too long in one spot, the plucks and one decent pull round of the Airfix matt white 2 oz glass tip, kept me too long and the second spot (one knock) didn't get my full attention as  I wanted to get in the bankers before the approaching lure angler.  The Stump, banker number 1. Out went the flake and a sharp pull, repeated as I dropped the rod on the rest. Jagging and darting for every likely snag, and a kamikaze dive into the waiting net. A big yeehaah rang out across the flood plain. Job done and I very nearly packed in there and then. Not big, not even 3lb but with lovely coral fins.

Out again and several sharp pulls and  a lost fish roach or chublet? before this little splasher hit the net in the by now dark so no banker 2. Next time...

Bleak House

Down to see Pops a couple of Sundays back, more breathless than he'd before. I had a feeling and gave him a bigger hug than usual, still quite an awkward thing for him at 88. I'd got to the river and realised I'd left my phone so went back to get it before he left to meet up with my niece and made sure I hugged him again.

The river was low and and lethargic but what little flow there was did pull the waggler along enough for a few small bleak, dace and roach think it worth chasing the maggots.

Sure enough a call from my younger brother on the Thursday morning to say Pops had been taken to Billericay but to no avail. We've got a job on to get the finances and house straight and then it's just us two left. He didn't go through what Mum did so that is something to hold on to. It'll be fireworks  for both if them on New Years Day.

In a whorl

Sacked off work early doors, done my bit and more last week so they owed me one. Top of the tidal, no one there so I had the whole back eddy to myself. Not sure why but the flow over the sluices  kept changing which moved the fish round a bit and it wasn't that easy to get a feed, trot, bite rhythm going but when I caught they were plump things and as ever bent the tip section nicely in the flow as I batted them back up the eddy. Very pleasant hour and a bit.

Catch up

Picked up the bite a chuck from Thorpeness with slightly bigger gold bars elsewhere and enough roach to have me thinking about a different approach to get a few for old times sake.  

The river had changed after  a couple of weeks away, a few more gaps but frustratingly  fresh reeds growing up in place of the dying willow herb. Couldn't get many decent trots in but did find a much deeper area for future reference.  

Not much to write home about. And sorting a tangle out and disaster as the cannibalised anti-reverse pawl popped out and that bought an end to my trip .I'd had to tighten the  locking nut a couple of times beforehand. By chance I saw it as I made one last check having broken the rod down and packed up.

Cut to today. I 'd got some fresh reds and even casters for a crack on a different stretch. Got the broken down rod out to retackle and the spool fell of the reel. I'd lost the locking nut somehow. If only I'd  retackled on the bank and made sure the locking nut was tight.  Out with the other pin (also without a anti reverse pawl) to nick the locking nut. Family stuff intervened and I ended up with an hour at best. l  need an excuse to use them up the week.  Perhaps those roach.....

An unseen knot kept jamming in the rings, once sorted  found some nice fish in the flow from the weir till it was too dark to see the float. Roach, perch and chublets but no dace. Nice  to get amongst them.

Gonna have to find some spare parts for my (now discontinued) reels.

Golden memories

Thorpeness Meare is the centrepiece of the holiday village created by Ogilvie early in the 19th Century on the Suffolk Coast.  Shallow, weedy and and extensive at 60 acres it's a lovely place with it's colourful hire boats and the iconic Head in the Clouds which is clearly visible from Aldeburgh.

It has fish, and they're free to fish for which is more than can be said for the hire boats. Just right for the not so Little 'Uns.

I did have a quick bash myself each of the three evenings we were there, and it's just as stunning at dusk.

Full of rudd, and the odd roach or hybrids and plenty of pike activity. I had corn which might have been more selective but I made do with maggot. As near to a roach as I got

Mostly rudd though.

 

  

Bleak outlook

Bit more warmth to tide us over until the long dark descends upon us. An hour on Golden Pond before dusk, little movement but  a tiny fizz of bubbles and this cormorant scarred skimmer took a fancy to  a Swim Stim durable hooker. Hateful birds. I'd lost a puddle chucker early doors but a fitful breeze conspired to drift it  cocked just into netting range at the same time.

Sunday and after checking on the Old I stopped off on a very moribund Suffolk Stour. Negligible flow, duckweed and clumps of dying off silkweed. Hordes of mostly well mannered SUP and canoe jockeys and Captain Pugwash taking wedding guests out on Kathleen, quite deliberately coming as close as he could. Bastard.

Bleak in abundance, all big yellow eyes, tiny mother of pearl scales, a bream like anal fin and a yellow cast to the body. Bigger ones look more fetching.

Got through to a few roach, dace and perch but I didn't get as far as opening the fresh pint of reds before heading back to the charabanc.

A pleasant hour or so but not much more than that. A pint might help, especially as pub only a few hundred yards down the road.  A better heeled John Boy Pub. A pint of XX please, and a packet  of crisps. £9.30 Sir. How much I spluttered having taken a sip whilst the Card Machine was being retrieved. How much is a pint? £7.80. Sorry, not paying that and off I flounced, whistle barely wet. Shame cos it tasted gorgeous. I'll ask first  next time. 

And it was dark when I got up for work at 6 this morning. Still, not long till I can fill my boots on the soon to be liberated mill pool.

Swipe left or right

Out prospecting for new waters, seems day ticket venues are increasingly using book by phone app
and stuff now. I'm not sure if Tinder or Grindr would be best for this one:

When Sunday comes

Not a bad start to Sunday though I struggled with the sossidges, 3 is plenty and I'm leaning to 2 these days. Linconshires, I've gone off Cumberlands.

Bit of a river day ahead. One rod, me big green bucket, a slimmed down tackle box and  an unhooking mat to sit on. 

Long walk up to the end of the old stretch, hoping to check out the newly acquired add on bit. Looks inviting but nettle city and I'd only donned shorts. (luckily the horse flies must have been eating people alive elsewhere).

First sit down swim had a near slack and glide across but weed in between so skimmed the edge of that, and plenty of sharp dips until I got my eye in and they were mostly chublets like this. A good sign for the future as not many other chub under 5lb about.

Fished a few more gaps down, some less weedy but all had fish in, dace and roach mostly but not comfortable swims to fish until I found a nice run down a briar bush with a flat high bank to fish from so I could see the float a fair trot down. Had to bring the fish up with feed but they were mainly better roach like this.

One move below the briar and a more exaggerated slack/weed/glide and holding a lot more fish (roach, dace, chublets) and my nemesis the minnow. I did notice that the fish felt cold to the touch.

A quick sample

And when you're bagging ol'essox often turns up. If you're lucky you often get them in

Got a bit black over Will's mothers so made the long trek back to the charabanc with seconds to spare.

Pub calling but didn't fancy Ceaser salad or beef lazange or anything with potatos .

so made do with a Madri all the way from Tadcaster and Scampi Fries (not from  a fishery) 

Down the farm track to my river just  time for Smith to hole out after putting more effort in than the rest of the England batters put  together. Bit of  a walk to find  a gap in the rosebay and a good steady run  down to an overhanging willow. Dace, lots of them and a much better stamp too. 

Throw in some cracking roach and  a much weightier bag, in a lot less time, and not a minnow in sight. Packed in early as a much bigger pike was making serious lunges at fish being bought in.