Well today panned out totally differently to expected. For one thing it was neither wet nor windy. In fact, it was mild and sunny and so I decided to head for the car boot sail with my daughters: target species, size 22 hooks (have been informed of a stickleback mark!) and two plastic swords. We did better than that and came away with two plastic (cockable) pirate pistols at 20p (my 3 year old told ‘mummy’ they were Sex Pistols!), a mouth organ at 5p, two packets of size 22 hooks-to-nylon at £1, some breakaways at 60p each and a bunch of videos at 20p each. Best of all though were a couple of books – one on pike fishing and one on perch fishing both published in the 1970’s. I looked them up on www.abebooks.com and found them at £12 and £6 respectively. Not bad for a quid…so I’d had a pretty good catch on the fishing gear then.
Back home I milled around and when my wife mentioned taking the kids swimming at the holiday village where I held the Eastern Meet I suggested taking the P15 to do some photography for college on the broad. No argument there and of course I may as well take a couple of rods and troll some lures seeing as how I’d be on the water anyway…nearly ballsed it up by taking a tumble on the stairs though and have a sore arse and back still, 9 hours later. Still, the paddle would do me good...
So I launched around 2:30 and diligently spent 20 minutes getting some pics done before sticking the rods out and completing the circuit of the broad.
Nada.
It seemed that no-one was getting a thing. But it was pleasant enough weather and it’s likely to be the last time on the broad this season so I enjoyed the paddle. It was also good for the old paddle fitness as recently I’ve spent little time paddling and lots of time at anchor. On my travels I saw some wildlife and retrieved a lure for a guy on the bank. A circuit completed I headed back up again and started thinking back. You know, the broad is familiar now – I kind of paddle along and remember having one here…one there…and so on. Up past the reeds behind the houseboats I went.
Here was where I’d hooked a biggy that dropped off. The Great Crested Grebe (I think) in the frame wasn’t doing any better it seemed.
I headed up the dyke this time
At times the water was like a mill pond, so still.
I was rather taken by the reflections of the sky too.
The peace and quiet gave plenty of time to just think about and remember things and the Eastern Meet back in October kept recurring: here was ‘Darnsarfs Dyke’ where Paul had sat at anchor
Down the bottom was ‘The Lozz Hole’ where Laurie had tried for a while
Coming out was the ‘Bucketboy Bend’ where I first met Pete in the flesh and tried his Big Game just around the corner.
It’s also where I met Guinea but his spot, ‘Guinea’s Wharf’ is further down on the broad itself and I didn’t head back that way. Coming back in the light was superb and the water and reflections it carried were just too good not to record.
My wife phoned. They were out of the pool and would be at the slipway in ten minutes. I was twenty minutes away and knew I’d beat them so I slowed down and finally paddled towards the area forever to be known as ‘Starvin Suicide’.
Flo arrived and I loaded up seconds before a heavy hail shower started up – I got the first few on my bald head and they hurt – and we headed on home. No fish but an opportunity to paddle and reflect on how much I’d enjoyed the broad since I first started yakking. To think I had no intention of anything fishing or kayaking related today at all…
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