The FM Predator Fish-In 2008

All of this heavy weather has had a profound effect on several recent FM fish-ins.

Swordsy's summer sojourn on the Trent was a distinctly soggy and floody affair this year compared to the previous 'hot as a devil's armpit' get-together, and the Severn fish-in anglers faced a late-autumn river desperately starved of water within a month of the biggest summer flood in decades.

After such a rough meteorological ride, it was no surprise when a week or so before the inaugural FM Predator Fish-In (somewhere deep in zzzzider country), Steve (DB) reluctantly announced that our original river venue was officially flooded-out and completely un-fishable…

Predator Heaven
Fortunately for us, Steve was a man with a cracking back-up plan and when he emailed the new venue location, I found myself packing my gear with extra care and excitement. We were only going to the Somerset Levels!

Anyone familiar with the southern sections of the M5 will understand the piking fascination of the legendary Levels with wonderfully enigmatic waterways like the Huntspill, King's Sedgemoor Drain and the Parrett. Are they rivers, are they drains? I don't have a bl**dy clue, but my 'Spidey-sense' is tingling and says, 'here be pike'!

To zoom over such beautiful waters at 70mph with envious eyes is one thing, but to be invited to fish there and share in some expert local knowledge was a dream come true. As a rule, us pike boys don't share our hard-won secrets, but Steve took a load of FMers on trust and came up trumps with a venue that just reeked of Esox Lucius.

'Mornin' All!'
The morning of the fish-in was initially quite a disorientating affair. The weather had been so consistently awful in the weeks leading up to event that we had grown completely accustomed to shrouded skies and persistent rain.

As Pikey and I stumbled out into the Bristol night to pack up the car we found ourselves increasingly distracted by the heavens. Something was wrong...there was nothing falling from it and it was full of sparkly lights. Nice!

We had arranged to meet up with Steve, Wendi and Jeff at the obligatory 24hr Tescos and thank God we did! Once we had left the comparative safety of the motorway, we were confronted by an impenetrable maze of semi-flooded lanes. If we hadn't been following Steve we would have been hopelessly lost in seconds, especially with my limited early-morning map-reading skills.

We parked up at the venue and were cheerfully greeted in the half-light by FM 'early-birds' Claudia and Mike (Mithrandir) who had 'sat-naved' their way with mind-boggling ease to our obscure predator El-Dorado. (Smartie-arses!!)

Pike Potential...I Should Coco!
As ever, me and Pikey were all 'kids in a candy-store' when we arrived and the temptation to swiftly unpack and run-off blindly into the darkness was almost over-whelming, but Steve and Cider Bob (who had just arrived) were the local experts and as the light levels rose, we reigned ourselves in, and took the opportunity to have a walk around and admire the potential of this feature-laden paradise.

It looked exactly as we had hoped, but better! We had junctions with other waterways to aim at and an abundance of man-made and bankside features. Excited is not the word for it!! I finally cracked, grabbed my rucksack, head-torch and quiver and legged it like a spooked baitfish towards my perfect swim.

Heavy Weather (Part 2)
I had my first rod and net set up in couple of minutes and was soon joined by an excited Claudia (after her first pike) who settled into the next swim upstream. Between us we had a lot of water to aim at. On the opposite bank a small waterway joined the main channel and this confluence seemed a natural first cast.

I launched my leger rig and immediately my mackerel deadbait was seized and carried downstream by a powerful and unseen force; I could hardly believe my luck…

I wound down quickly and soon realised that I had been caught out by a combination of a current and weed. The torrential rain had completely changed the character of this usually sluggish stream and I reeled in an enormous bow of braid completely caked in 'clags' of choking greenery.

After seeing Cider Bob suffer a similar rod-clogging fate a little way upstream, I decided to go for a short cast but even close in I couldn't get my drop-backs to stay clipped on; there was just too much flow pushing through.

The only solution was to pack up and walk as far as my legs would carry me away from the source of the extra flow. After a 5 minute hack downstream my overloaded body had had enough so I parked up next to lily bed and slumped back in my chair, exhausted.

At that point the 'gazelle-like' Geoff Furnival hoved into view carrying just as much kit as me but without so much as a bead of sweat in evidence; he stopped for a quick chat and then stalked off purposefully downstream. (Mental note to self: give up the fags, and eat and drink less at Christmas!)

Wendi and Claudia

Jeff and Cider Bob

Quiet Times
There was still a lot of water and weed pushing through but things were distinctly calmer in my new swim and I finally managed to get my baits out and start fishing.

It was a beautiful morning and as the sun rose higher in the sky I was able to get a better appreciation of our stunning surroundings. I am a sucker for bird-watching when fishing and during a couple of hours of inactivity on the rods; I spotted yellow wagtails, a flock of lapwings, buzzards and a green woodpecker.

Jeff Spiller popped along for a chat and a cuppa. We were discussing the debilitating effects of BOS (Barbel Obsession Syndrome) when his mobile rang. It was Wendi a few hundred yards upstream. A fish, perhaps? No, the water level was rising rapidly and Jeff's kit was about to submerge.

As Jeff did a convincing impression of Linford Christie, I settled back to consider my options. It was nearly lunchtime already and I'd had not so much as a nibble. Another move was on the cards. Whilst I considered my options, I reeled in and popped down to see how Geoff was getting on.

Things had been moderately more exciting in his swim, he had, at least, had a very tentative indication on his float even if it had failed to develop into a take. When the going is this hard it is worth sitting it out if you think there is a pike about, so I wished him luck and went back to pack up again.

Cider Bob, Claudia and Mike

Steve (DB)

Great Minds...
I decided that the only solution was to cross the main waterway and fish the sidestream I had initially tried to cast towards. As I retraced my steps upstream it became clear that everyone else had had the same idea and the whole fish-in was now on the opposite bank.

Angling conditions were clearly against us but it worked out nicely really as we ended up having a right social afternoon with everyone tucked in together on short stretch. Some days it's just not about the fish...

Fun in the pub

The pike clearly weren't playing and neither was the water. It changed colour, level and even direction several times in the course of a few short hours. Jeff, Pikey and I ended up messing about with Pikey's new multiplier and trying to no avail to tempt a carp, that kept swirling about along the near bank, to take a lure.

As darkness approached, the rain returned and we all finally conceded that it was time for a pint. It had been a really fun day but a bizarre one for fishing. Not a single jack between us, but a lot of laughs and a great introduction to the angler's delight that is the Somerset Levels.

Big thanks to Steve for all his organisational efforts; I hope we can all do it again in better conditions next season.