Kype. Again

Just the last hour today before dusk, in shorts and a lovely run primed with reds, and a bite a trot, smallish dace but all ready to spawn, a small roach and two browns.

The second? Old kypie again. Lovely scrap on the dace gear. Happy days.

Living in a Car

The Venerable Loafer and I worked out yesterday that Charlie Harper, UK Subs frontman must be about 80.  In  fact he'll be 81 this year. I'd say the pair of us look as old now as he did when Living in a Car came out (blue or green vinyl? Google says red). More of which later.

Thursday the VL and Bully were prospecting the River Great Ouse at Littleport after 'tench' and to inform our plans for Friday. I almost  made the schlepp from King's Lynn to meet up for a watch but 'something' (work) put the kybosh on that. A Whats App enquiry confirmed my fears that they'd spent a day catching feck all  (well, VL anyway and Bully an early bream and a rudd). A whole biteless day's feeder fishing would be my worst nightmare.  Partly cos I'm cack at it. I almost sacked it off there and then but Ely was mentioned so feverish  preparation (chucking everything in the charabanc then  talking out the cooking stuff, cups etc. with brief instructions to bring only the best, top of the range sossidges. River running fast and coloured.

Coordinates punched into the Sat Nav I left NORTH Norfolk for the wilds of Cambridgeshire later than the VL probably approved off at 06.45 with one last instruction to bring water.  Once you get into Hillbilly country past Downham Market even the main A10 is a shocking road and the  section once you cross at  10 Mile Bank is an absolute warzone of undulating patched up tarmac and the surroundings so scuzzy that even the Cathedral of the Fens failed to brighten the view. 80 miles driven the car park tariff  at least made me smile, long stay free after 8.30am. Limped down to find the VL ensconced on a bend with a pair of plump rudd and a big silver bream already in the net. What absolute corkers, both 2lb plus (even on scales stubbornly set to weigh only in ounces).

We popped back to get my gear, and much mirth at my assorted unmade up junkyard of unmade tackle. Pare everything down as if if you're  chubbing was my instruction so chucked  everything back in the charabanc ,and set off with one rod for feeder fishing.

A cracking winter venue with shoals of decent fish overwintering and no high, muddy banks or 18-20 foot of (almost) barren featureless water to contend with. Boats to cast to, a decent depth 8-10 foot and plenty of options including whip, trotting, feeder and zeds, perch and pike. Busy with lots of short men with short rods, passers by, canal boats and rowing crews and an endless stream of trains.

 

As ever my approach is cack-handed at best compared to the Loafer but my haphazard casting still bought me bites on corn or dendros and at times I found holding the rod rather than laying on the  pathway more effective.. VL was mostly fishing long with a clip to a shallower ledge   and I wherever the feeder landed though we both had to come mid river to find bites at times. Drink time (pub not yet open) and I went to get water, and sossidges and use the bogs.. Now, the  VL has been using his van , not his camper for short stay overs like last night. Visions of Roy Walton living his car and making do with wet wipes for basic hygiene were trumped by the VL proudly declaring that he'd had to take a crap in his van last night. No wonder he'd parked it elsewhere. The  sturdy groundbait bucket was the obvious receptacle. As well as tea (where's  yer mug) six deluxe sossidges were soon cooked to perfection on the VL Ridgemonkey and a food parcel was delivered to Bully fishing downstream on a previously nailed on  banker for big rudd. Not today, he was scratching for bits.

The fish were plucking at the bait rather than shredding the corn so I tried a whole dendro tipped with a dead read and this  provoked a real pull round of the 2oz tip and this lovely golden slab of a rudd was the culprit. 1lb 12oz but to my untrained eyes looked a bit bit bigger. See, Loafer, the viewfinder does help. Fab pics btw.

As well as the cracking rudd we had lots of silver bream, a couple of which stood out, the bigger one at 1lb 1oz was the Loafer's fish

Roach, skimmers, hybrids, more rudd and a solitary perch 

made for a fantastic day with lots  of (muffled ) craic and plenty of passer by curiosities and events including a bloke trotting and a foreign national locked in a stand-off about the taking of "allowed" fish, a drunk Scot after our sossidges,  a mobile dropped in the water,  a gift of a big bag of cooked hemp and the boy who asked "why" at least  a million times.

Cheers Loafer, a cracking day in cracking company. I wish it was closer.