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.