With a horrendous forecast for the cod match the best option seemed a swap for a day on the river chasing the pike...a charity day with food and prizes on offer something god would come of it and all the signs at home were that it’d be a pleasant day out. Pass duly signed by Missusnapper I venture froth for the 10am start by way of my brother’s to collect Eloise’s yak, thwarted only by the lack of straps to stick it on the roof. The worst laid plans…
Five minutes early I pulled up by the pool to see four others ready to rock…I didn’t even get to finish my coffee! Yak off the roof, rods out of the car, drysuit on and it was over to the pontoon. The water was up, running quick and dirty; lures were going to struggle so hopefully the poor maggots I’d picked up the day before would find me a livebait or two. Ah well. Flat was there, Wilmy too and both Alex and Wilmy’s mate as well, neither of whom I’d met before…five out on a day like this wasn’t a bad result at all!
Off we went, some upriver against a strong flow, some downriver with it. I started down but couldn’t get the lures down at a speed sensible to troll so turned and went back up hoping that the boathouse stretch might produce. It didn’t. Someone had left their taps running...
I headed for the quay instead.
I stopped in the dyke just short of it for a while and after half an hour was rewarded with a four inch roach. What a bite! What a fight! The feeder rod had produced...
…a treble under the dorsal and I tried for a pike sheltering out of the flow to no avail. I moved on up to the quay. And there I sat, anchored up opposite Flat who managed roach, ruffe and perch...I sat there a while unable to get my livebait positioned where I wanted due to a bank angler and failing where I did put it and gave up, moved and tried further up.
Nothing, no bites, no nibbles, nothing at all. I moved again, heading for my little bay by the iron bridge that holds chub, a fish a cast on the drop in summer…out went the feeder and I sat back and waited. A bite! Missed! I cast out again.
Ten minutes later I began reeling in; snagged. I paddled over, pulled clear and felt the fish – a nice chub, a pound or so and feisty as…I brought it up to the side, went to lift it in and the hook pulled…that could have been point three in the AA comp but it wasn’t to be so we’re still last with two species so far. Embarrassing or what!
I tried again, snagged again, lost the feeder. Snagged my livebait, pulled it clear and cast it off. Tested out the extra flex on my Xtraflexx rod...
This was starting to suck. Flat joined me so at least I had company. He then started to pull a few silvers out, roach and perch, just to make me feel bad. I changed over to a float; lost one of those too and a couple of hooks. I blagged a couple of perch and rigged up for livebaits, trotting them downstream. Nothing.
Another goon the troll…nothing. I tried a slow drift. Nothing. None of the guys on bank or boat were smiling either; Beccles wasn’t fishing at all well. I carried on up and, as I approached the launch, I saw all but Alex standing on the pontoon. I joined them, hauled the yak out and we just chatted instead while we waited for Alex. He’d managed run on a smelt! A decent fish too but the line had parted and he’d lost it. Feeling generous I figured that was close enough for a prize and gave him a couple of rod holders; after all we’d all made the effort and even if none of us had a pike to show for it he’d at least seen one, we’d had a pleasant if cold and unproductive day and there was another forty quid in the pot for Caister Lifeboat.
Thanks for coming guys, sorry for the lack of fish!
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