Right, time to hit that there AA Species tournament competition thingummy. Scuppered to date but Wilmy’s coming out to play and finally everyone has left the house…print of the coupons, make some coffee and get on…
Drysuit, padding boots (new because the others have shredded soles) and desert boots to drive in by the door ready
Rods and reels to grab from the stack by the door
Still a while before he gets here, now, what’s the difference between a dace and a chub? Best make sure again…
Right, one’s big, one’s small…that’ll do. Let’s go. Via a fuel pump. And a cash machine. And a [s]toy[/s] tackle shop…we need maggots. Wow, look at these lures! Blimey, all these groundbaits! Let’s get some. Brown, that’s what we need. “Bet you aren’t going kayaking today are you!” says the man behind the counter…he must be nuts: “yeah, that’s why we’re here”. “You’re mental. Mind you, there are some fit birds in kayaks on the river here. In the summer.” I consider this. We should be chasing girls. Mind you, I’m that old I’d never catch them.” “A tenner please”. Off we go
Hmm, still a smidgen of snow laying from yesterday, sunny and mild today though, pleasant, lovely, should be good and we’ve got the power!
And Wilmy has a new lucky hat.
And I have new lucky kit.
He’s taking forever, bless him, so I look for an early jack and get my drags set on my new Fladen setups. Nothing, but the flow is fine, the water quite clear and though the levels are down I’ve not hooked any weed on the bottom. Could be alright this.
Down to my secret chub mark…some roach, perch and gudgeon there too. Miss out on a trolled pike on the way down but I’ll livebait for those anyway, shouldn’t be a problem. I fail to get a chub. Or a perch, roach, gudgeon, dace, rudd. I head to the roach, ruffe, bream mark. Nothing. This groundbait is awesome, smells like Christmas pudding with whisky and that in. The fish couldn’t care less, heathens the lot of them. They don’t like the maggots either. I can’t get a touch on float or feeder and it’s getting cold…we head for the dyke but decide to go on the troll instead. Back past the pool ‘from whence we launched’ and on, up through boathouse alley and past the place the river police caught her and I one night twenty years before – too much information perhaps especially as it doesn’t involve fishing, does involve a searchlight but I grin every single time I pass it, the memory never grows old. Unlike me. Anyway, the spawny git gets one! A take, a jack has done the business and hit his lure and it’s on…finally, three hours into a blank and we have the first point of leg 1…
We carry on upstream, it’s getting darker. And colder. And there’s some thunder. Then, a treat. In broad daylight I spook a barn owl and it flies off, languidly, then there’s a flurry of snow…
Quite a big flurry.
A McFlurry in fact. I take cover.
Alas my rod cannot take cover.
Well, I dunno where all my tackle has gone, if it’s not hidden it’s shrunk away to nothing and as for my toes, well, I can’t feel them but I know they’re still there. I can feel them rattling in my boots like a load of dice.
We turn and head back. This is getting silly and is completely pointless now, the wind has picked up, the temperature has dropped, the light has stayed above the snow clouds and enough is enough. We spot a kingfisher close by, must be cold as well as I get closer than ever before it flits away.
Wilmy is man of the match with our first and only point…and very well-deserved it was too.
So far 2013 has been pretty grim.
A few more pics from Wilmy:
End of the day
Fishing & weather not the best, the dozen match anglers fishing Beccles cut since 8am had bugger all.
I have never fished down there and not caught silvers, water was clear and hardly any movement on the water all day. I've fished matches on the cut where we have broken the ice to start fishing pushing the chunks away with landing nets eventually the fish would come on but normally when there is more movement/flow.
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