Strange Summer
IT SEEMS TO have been a while since I last wrote a piece of my thoughts, etc, the FishingMagic Junior Angling Academy getting in the way a little, but how enjoyable that was!
Nigel, showing us how it's done
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Just before then, Nigel Connor came to visit the Compleat Angler stretch as my guest and managed to show me up. It was a nice light, bright summer Sunday evening and until it went dark I thought the chances of either of us catching were very slim. However, after only 20 minutes or so. Nigel had his first chub of the evening, a small fish (he says with a jealous tone in his words) of between 3 and 4 pounds.
Nigel's 2nd chub
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He followed this with another (the envy grows) chub around the same size. I don't remember whether it was around then that I did manage to catch a bream, not of much weight itself, but then it's not the species you want to catch when you're really after barbel. Did I mention 'barbel'? Yet again Nigel, now fishing at the lower end of the beat, hooked into a very nice specimen and this time it looked serious.
This time it's serious
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It was indeed a barbel (written whilst almost spitting the words out with overwhelming resentment that a guest should catch all the fish) of well over 9lbs. Because of the warm conditions the fish took quite a while to recover, but Nigel handled it well and eventually it got away safe and sound. He didn't stop there though, not Nigel, he only rubbed salt into the wounds with yet another barbel, at least it was smaller this time, around 7lbs.
That was it at the final tally around midnight. He went home, praying his old car would make it on three cylinders after I had bid him farewell and stupidly invited him back to embarrass me all over again. Methinks I must find some clandestine way of spiking his swim next time, just hoping that he fishes downstream of me, of course!
Then Came Graham
The day before the FM junior event, I met with Graham (our esteemed editor) again and just like last year it was warm and sunny. Graham was fishing with those strange rocks wrapped up in a huge dollop of red groundbait. Of course, the moment that lot hit the water it must have scared off every fish in the weir pool, the splash probably being more than Barnes-Wallace's Bouncing Bomb made in the Möhne Dam.
With only a grebe for company, altogether now….aggghhhhh
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I went up to the top to fish right in the white stuff just off the weir sill. At one point I did have a bite, struck, but missed whatever it was. Checked the boilie and recast to the same location only to have two canoeists come tumbling over the weir to land right in the swim I was fishing. That probably screwed up my chances of catching anything there, but at least I had the company of a very confident crested grebe that spent quite a while preening itself directly in front of me. It's not all about catching fish.
Charles and Steve
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Charles and Steve then arrived, two other members. Charles being on a crutch with his leg in plaster after ripping his Achilles tendon. It didn't stop him from having a word (or four thousand) with Graham first though before he started fishing. He chose the weir sill that I had now vacated and true to his lucky self, was soon into a fish of around 6 lbs. Well, soon after that Graham and I retired for the customary curry and to get things sorted for the day after.
Chalk up another blank. (I think Graham's a jinx!) [More like you're a jinx on me! - Graham]
It's not all Been Bad
I have had some fish out this year, nothing spectacular, but then it has been a funny sort of year. Really boiling hot weather when, at one point, we were considering asking members not to fish as the water reached 76°F. This was then followed by storms with torrential downpours, which although very welcome in many respects, didn't improve the fishing very much. Eventually it did settle and since then I've had a few barbel out to 9lbs 11ozs, not the biggie I wanted, but all good fun.
On one occasion with Frank we were both having a rough time and he came up to the weir to have a word and I just happened to say “How many fish do you think are in this weir right now?” No sooner had that last word left my lips when I had to strike, at which point he said, “Well, at least one for sure.”
A papilloma, a cancerous growth according to the EA
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Later, with the fish on the bank we saw it had a rather nasty growth on it's upper right shoulder and so concerned were we I took pictures of it for the EA fisheries people. They reported back that it looked like a papilloma, a cancerous growth stemming from inside, but they couldn't say whether it was benign or not.
Since all the other fish we have caught have been in absolutely superb, scale-perfect condition we're not going to worry too much about this individual fish. However, most of the members are now aware of it and will take further photos in future, if it's caught again, to see if the growth worsens. It's one of those things we anglers do that ensures the country has a good, healthy and thriving fish stock that many other people wouldn't know about nor even care.
Another Disappointment
This last weekend I managed to get young Connor out for a night fishing session. His dad was on a stag night in France and my daughter was only too relieved to have us take care of him for the weekend. I couldn't think of where else to go so we headed for the club's lake. We got there and selected not the best swim on the lake, but most others were taken or would have been uncomfortably tight once we had the bivvy up.
(I won't mention the fact that as soon as we put our gear down, a young chap in the next swim shouted across, “My mate's got a bait over them trees past you.” I responded “Well, he'll have to ****** well shift it then. This is a proper swim we're in.”
There was a little acrimony then, but do these people think they can command the entire lake by casting baits everywhere? Well, I have mentioned it now, so there.)
One point about the trip is that it would give me a chance to test the new bivvy, a JRC Stealth Brolly bought at the recommendation of Cakey (an FM member - useful these forums are for information). I've had it since February, but just haven't had the time nor inclination to do any night fishing. It was soon set up, just a little zipper trouble at one point, Connor would have the bed and I had to put up with sleeping in a chair. What sleep I could get.
We had a slight easterly breeze blowing and the aircraft were landing just by us, these conditions lead to many vortices that whip through the air, rustle the trees, and create waterspouts and mini-tornados on water and land. Connor couldn't believe that within a vortex was also the sound of the jet engine that had passed two minutes earlier. It is really weird to hear them and frightening if one comes near you for it can rip a bivvy to pieces and has done before now.
I just put out simple boily rigs since spodding, PVA bags, stringers and any free baits were not allowed - when I looked at the rules. I did think of taking some groundbait and putting out method feeders, but the moral side of me rose up and I decided to leave it at home. Mick, our head bailiff, came around in the evening and was putting up the next 'new' rule which, would you believe, allows method feeders, stringers, PVA bags, etc, all now at home. I had some spods with me, but they're still banned.
All we had throughout the night was liners on Connor's rod (even though he was asleep), my swinger remained motionless all night. Dawn broke and there was a stillness. The mist cleared and just as I thought it might be a nice day, the heavens opened and we had 1½ hours of torrential downpour. It certainly tested the bivvy out and we found one or two places around the doorway that let the water in, partly my fault for not securing the Velcro properly. Mind you, I can't remember too many days when it had rained quite that hard so it is quite a testament to the bivvy that we remained very dry inside.
Eventually it stopped. The sun broke out and soon I was stripping off all the waterproofs and warmer gear I'd put on through the night. We managed a breakfast of fried Porky White's sausages and beans thanks to a kind chap lending me a lighter to ignite the stove as the piezoelectric spark unit had got a little damp. Then it was the long walk back to the car, fishless and with gear that was still slightly damp.
Were we downhearted? A little perhaps, so maybe we should stick to day fishing next time.
Nigel Connor
