Introduction
I had a tortuous couple of weeks over Christmas where I was so busy at work and with family commitments I couldn't get out on to the banks. Mrs P made me laugh though as we turned in one night- "You know most people count sheep before they go to sleep, I reckon you count fish!" She stated sarcastically. "If that were true I would never get to sleep, I'd be too excited," I replied.
I fear I might be going slightly fishing mad.........
A day wandering about with purpose
I'd arranged a day with our old friend Ken. Mine and Kens' work patterns make trips difficult for most of the year but the lucky sod had a month off over the festive period. After some crackhead nicked his luxury sports moped I had to drive to Skegness to pick him up and he piled a small rucksack and a couple of rods into the boot before we headed towards our destination.
We started off fishing a selection of small rivers that criss-cross each other a short distance from the coast. It was incredibly windy though and I thought it would tough going. I was fishing with a small rubber lure to target any resident Perch while Ken fished with some of the roughest looking tackle I have ever seen. His reel had about fifty yards of old line on and he was using a rod of dubious vintage and a impossible looking Pike plug. About fifteen minutes of casting and moving around I heard Ken whooping a short distance down on a small bridge pumping his fist in the air. I raced down to him as he played a not inconsiderable Pike. Now I often hear people say "I was pleased for him" and I am never quite sure if they are being genuine or not. To see a fish on such a horrible day though was brilliant and I couldn't stop smiling. Neither could Ken....
Ken poured a steaming hot cup of tea from his flask while I set up a couple of tip rods. I was going to try the worm for the Perch. "You know what would make my day now Phil, If I could Perch on the lure," Ken proclaimed. And sure enough the mad sod left the serenity of my shelter to fling a bit of rubber about in a gale force wind. I watched my tips intently. They were in good spots and I was sure a bite would soon be forthcoming. A short time later I heard a familiar shout. Peering from under my brolly there was Ken, rod bent and fist pumping again. Little sod had only gone and caught himself a Perch........
Another cup of tea in the warm later and he was off again. My tips were bouncing around all over the place but alas not from any bites but the wind. Half an hour passed and I began to wonder if Ken had been blown in. Just as I had that thought he appeared and he looked shaken. "It straightened my hook.......big Pike......I'm going back for it," he blustered. We sorted out some more substantial jig hooks and he took his lure wallet and disappeared again. Ten minutes later he was back with this beauty.....
"Have you ever not caught anything here?" Ken asked. "Oh yeah, loads of times," I replied. Ken was keen for me to get off the mark and I think he was quite surprised that I hadn't. Something wasn't right though and I sort of knew my efforts were going to go unrewarded. Only one thing for it and another move was arranged. Twenty minutes later we were a good distance upstream now. We parked up and began fishing all the likely looking spots. We must have walked a mile or so until we could go no further. While neither of us had any luck it did look great and I thoroughly enjoyed it. The sun was going down and the whole valley was lit by the late afternoon sun. We could see all the landmarks we had been by earlier as we looked into the distance. The far-off village lights shimmered in the ever fading light while we had our last casts. I even forgot about the wind until we had to turn around and trudge back to the car.
In the days after, mine and Kens' work mates took turns in giving me some stick about not catching anything and being beaten by a relative novice. Trust me when I say sometimes just being there is enough...............
Besides, I was pleased for him.
Dropshotting
Regulars may remember when I came back back from America with a box full of small lures. Pro Bass World really is an amazing place. I was there in 2004 as well and was mesmerised enough by the sheer variety of imitation fish and worms to bring some home then too. As with a lot of fishing gear though you can never have enough and I ordered fifty tiny Kopyto Shads from eBay. Twelve pounds delivered.......
Dropshotting is a really simple concept. Simply tie a hook about twelve or so inches away from a small weight. Hook the rubber shad, cast it it and retrieve it really slowly lifting the rod tip so the Shad flutters up and down. I needed a venue to try it though and plumped for my local Partney Pit. With very few Pike I wouldn't need a trace or so I thought. It doesn't hold many Perch either but I had caught them on jigs here before so I was reasonably confident. Guess what I hooked almost straight away? Of course I did.......
Luckily the line held and after returning the small Pike I searched the depths for another hour or so with no joy. It was pleasant winter afternoon though, not warm but very sunny. I took one of the Chaos Twins and she had a bonus when another angler left behind a big chunk of luncheon meat which she devoured in one bite. She had to work for it though as it was in a big marginal weedbed and she hates swimming. Watching her was certainly more entertaining than the fishing. Harriet....
Alone I can concentrate
With a bit of rain and another massive tide I was unsure what state the river would be in. Luckily the rivers and drains around here are heavily monitored and controlled by a series of pumping stations and sluice gates. As I pulled up the river was up but still way off the levels I have seen in previous winters. I settled in a spot sheltered from the wind which had come back with a vengeance. I set up a small clear waggler and began trotting down the peg with maggots. It didn't take long to get a bite and a precession of small roach came to hand. About an hour passed before I heard the clatter of the sluices as the tide retreated. The river started to flow rapidly and the fish became harder to come by. I had seen a few bigger fish top a bit further up and I was sure they were Perch. They often show themselves like this and they'll sometimes come clean out of the water.
With the river pulling hard and several dark shapes scattering the Roach all over the peg I decided to go and investigate a those mystery splashes further up. The wind here and the flow made the float impossible to fish and I set up my tip rods. Twenty minutes later I had two worms in position and I was ready to pounce on what would surely be one of the rivers magnificent Perch. Sure enough one tip started to rattle and I struck into something substantial. Whatever it was was putting up a real fight though and I was still sure it was a Perch and a big one at that. Then it surfaced. My initial thought was a a Roach but it couldn't be could it? Was this a fabled two pounder? A couple of minutes later and I was staring at a funny looking creature (it probably thought the same). It turned out to be a Roach/Bream Hybrid.
For the next couple of hours I had fish after fish. It was incredible. I had caught tiny hybrids before but these were a different class. They were interspersed with the odd true Roach, biggest 1lb 2oz. The biggest Hybrid went 2lb 6oz. I photographed the best ones........
Time was moving on and I had been on the river since daybreak. I sent a quick text off to Mrs P to check if she still loved me. The message came back that she did so I took that to mean- 'Stop till dark, I don't mind'. A dangerous supposition if ever there was one. I moved the car and put what I didn't need in the boot. My last peg was a short distance away and I was soon sat behind my two rods on my luxury chair. The wind and flow by now were vicious and I upped the weight needed to hold bottom and fished with a massive bow in my lines to combat the flow. The bites were difficult to make out but I managed to hit a couple of early takers, both decent Perch. I then had a more positive bite and became attached to quite a powerful fish. Could this be a four pounder I thought as it held in the flow mid-river. That moment when your line goes slack is one of the most frustrating times in fishing. It had shaken the hook.
On the next cast the tip whacked around again and I started playing a fish that felt equally as big as the last. I played it gingerly as it powered around as it pleased. It only took one glimpse to tell it wasn't a Perch. It was only another blooming Hybrid. At over three pounds it was a beast. With that out of the way I was back on the Perch. I had seven in total including three over two pounds and packed up, tired but ecstatic at such a wonderful day......
Afterword
I had pushed my luck. After an all-dayer with Ken and then one on my own a few days later the normally very accommodating Mrs P snapped and demanded not only some attention but some dreaded house DIY. Little did she or I realise though that I would make another appearance in the Angling Times with my 3 12 Perch......
I had emailed the details in but not heard anything back. I rather suspect my new friend Teresa Parr from the facebook Perch fishing group had something to do with it. Thanks Teresa.
Anyway surely I could go fishing now, It'd be like Bradley Wiggins not being allowed out on his bike? No such luck and I've been house and work bound for a week. It has given me time to do a bit of thinking though and I've made a new years resolution. I had it in mind to do a bit of livebaiting on my last trip but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I thought if I can't do that then I shouldn't use any fish based baits at all. So that is pellets, fishmeal groundbaits and even krill and prawns off the menu. It wont make a blind bit of difference to the stocks of any of them but it'll sure make me feel better. I can just see my match buddies rubbing their hands together now.
In other news I'm going fishing tomorrow. If it stops raining then I'll be using some of this down the river in the morning.......
Till next time................
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