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.

Micro

Haven't had a proper fish for ages or done a whole lot of anything. Mojo stuff probably. Anyway, whilst on sunnier shores had a bit of  a gift horse  One of those we've left something outside the hotel if anyone wants them gift horses.

I did look at the teeth, and as you would expect crap line, no shot and long shank 6 or 8 hooks. Grab some bread from the buffet and let the kids have a go anyway. Any bait gets mobbed straight away by tiny fish and even with bread squeezed hard enough to make it sink the shite hooks made it almost impossible to hook anything.  

However two did slip up up somehow.. A  bream of some description (Google gave  a few names) and an even smaller mullet, again of some sort. Even if I don't pack a couple of telescopic rods next time we go away I'll take some shots, floats and hook links. #16 or  #14 with push stops would be ideal. The   rods went back and  it was nice to see them being used again.

 .  .

A pesky cormorant showed up too.

Closer to home and crabbing on the Blythe at Walberswick resulted in a few tiny crabs and equally tiny fish, mostly spotty things like this

and a basslet too. A couple of proper hand sized ones were caught next to us. Happy days.

No nubiles to bring on

The best the Forbidden could offer up on the Nubiles front this time was this sedate postprandial trip from the best known eaterie/function venue on the river hereabouts, down to the next mill and back.

   

Yup, another quick stop- off after checking up on the Old. River quite sedate to match the crew and passengers above and a 3 or 4 metre  whip to hand would been perfect. The fish didn't really settle  (perhaps a pike or bigger perch about) so a quick burst then quiet again.  

Dace and chublets, interspersed with roach, perch and bleak.

Scouted out a few autumn spots on the Roadside, very handy for a posh pint. Regatta in this case .

Nice drive back listening to the two Hundred games on from Headingly, cracking games as confirmed by Teacher Son, walking back from the game in the gathering Leeds gloom. Museum/C&RT Son lived  almost opposite the ground a couple of house moves back.

 

Dibs n drabs

In a bit of a lull, doing bit of this and that but the Champion is flowing and summer is here. A quick hour on my river.

And a couple more on the Loafer's river  amongst the nubiles in SUP boards. Not really on getting the camera out in the circumstances so most of my quarry went back quick plus it was so hot my eyeballs were sweating. Chub, dace, roach and of course perch, all a few yards from the roar of the London bound traffic. Deep stretch.

A bit of flatbed flinging, right down to the last feeder full and a few more casts after.

And a few trips to the coast.

Swifts are still here and the harvest is mostly in. Toodle pip.

NBSDB quest continues

Time and weather have not been kind this week, but the rod and big green bucket did get slung in the back of the Charabanc once this week. The river was up, of course but I thought a  far bank run might be ok on the recce  on the way to the thing I had to do. And yes, a Norfolk Bog Shed Door Blue rope swing was spotted. But not the one I was looking for.

Unfortunately on the way back a White Van Man had had the same idea. What now? The Farm Pond was on the way back, and though the trotting rod and a few maggots weren't ideal why not? The small pond looked dour, but one spot had been fished recently. A change in wind direction and a few rises and then bites. As I half expected small but gorgeous rudd. Not ravenous hordes of them. Which is half a blessing. The far bank was high with plenty of scrub in the water and when ever a pheasant or magpie  flew off some heavier splashing could be heard and occasional bubbles so hints of more and better and as I packed in a couple of better swirls. Not perhaps a drive to, but a drive past with  a few pellets to see if anything could be enticed to betray it's presence for future reference

Driveby shooting at Chicken Bridge

I had a longer go after the scaley rod benders, did get a few roach on the drop and some proper bubblers showing old skool stylee in the deep channel to have a think about. Oh, and of course some deffo tench bubbles started once I'd packed up. Got in to hear the result (I'd seen 0-1 earlier) and somehow a sorry arsed Southgate shackled Engerland had scraped through to the Round of 8. (It's not fooken World Series Baseball FFS)

Other than that its been quick rod in the back of the charabanc, everything in my big green bucket sessions on the way to or back from somewhere else. Had an hour on the Duck Pond but didn't  pop in to see if Lord Sugar was in the pub. Did have to cough up a fiver to the newly installed Warden, who was using a very garish set up with little reward.  Think he's there all day, every day so I'll have to weigh up when to part with my hard earned dosh. The cormorants have wiped out loads of  the little scaley rod tremblers and their escapees are getting a bit too big to swallow now, have seen a few roach being caught though which might tempt  the Fen Master away from his vintage press.

One of the inhabitants of the Duck Pond that graced the dampened net and duck cropped grassy sward, all caught virtually under my hideous Crocs, no socks The commons seeming to be doing better than the flatter bellied mirrors.

Checked out the Mill  Pound on Norfolk's only canal mostly to bash a few small swims out, facing wind and lots of silk weed so back with a rake and get  some mash and corn going in. No dace  or bigger rudd but here's a sample of what I wangled out. Perch, ruddlet and a hybrid. Must be some bream in here somewhere

Then there is Chicken Bridge and the search for the Norfolk Bog Shed Door Blue rope swing. Still thinking about a post of chub amongst a healthy bag taken on hemp 'n' caster. The spot looked familiar, and so did the swing. Perhaps he'd put the inevitable brownies back and not in his keep net? Perhaps it was further down and he'd dropped in a few NBSDB herrings? I had had a mosey further down than I'd been and found a few nice runs, seen some minnows and  otter signs. but no NBSDB rope swings. Time was short  so straight to the shady spot with a NBSDB rope swing. This one. Comparisons on my cracked phone screen not conclusive

Anyway, in for a penny and all that. Loads (many, many) of browns, most a lot bigger than this one.

Not so many dace.

And enough mint fresh roach like these to send me happily on my way. quite quickly when  the small holder who must have been pissed about the yoots milling about now school is out and made his feelings clear with a shotgun. Only in Chicken Bridge Town, deffo a Reform voter.