Fishing Diary: Winter/Spring 2021

Late to the Party

I sat atop the high bank of a local river, fully exposed to the elements of an early February day in Lincolnshire. It was a cold drab day with expansive grey skies, the warming rays of the sun a distant memory. The Chaos Twins, now in their twilight years had finished their customary couple of hours looking for anything edible and were snoozing loudly wrapped in a heavy fleece blanket at my feet. There were a hundred places I'd rather be but covid rules had restricted me to local venues of which none were particularly inspiring. Still it was better than being sat at home I tried to convince myself as I repositioned my deadbaits for the twentieth time that day.

Through the gloom appeared a heavily laden angler. He stopped to say hello. Turned out he was a regular and knew the river well, certainly better than I did. "It has fished terribly since the New Year," he lamented. No shit, I thought, staring down the barrel of my sixth blank in a row. At least I wasn't the only one struggling I reconciled as he trudged off. Before he went he confirmed what I had heard previously- it had been throwing up some good pike. In fact another angler had one while I was there a week or so before. A 21lb fish he'd caught before and would go on to catch again. Indeed almost every angler I encountered down there claimed to have caught it. That's what I needed, a mug fish. Surely to God and the Sweet baby Jesus it couldn't avoid me forever could it?

Recognize

January was a reasonable month. I'd continued targeting a local commercial for perch. It was hard work, averaging just one fish a session. The recapture of a 2lb 15oz fish and another smaller two pounder left me doubtful that particular venue would produce anything more worthy.

A new challenge presented itself in the form of a local specimen lake that was offering free fishing throughout January. I'd fished it years before and had some modest pike. What I wasn't quite prepared for was the weed, it was absolutely carpeted with thick, heavy blanket weed. I managed a few small small ones drifting baits over the top but the better fish avoided me.

One afternoon I had a final move, after covering most of the lake. To my surprise the bottom was relatively clear. Almost straight away I was in to a good fish and it gave a great account of itself. After a tense struggle it was in the net and then typically my other float started to disappear. Luckily Benidorm Dave was with me and helped out by unhooking the first one. The second Pike also fought well but was also soon safely in the net. A fruitless afternoon had turned into over 30lb of Pike on the bank in a matter of minutes.

14lb 2oz

18lb

I did have another couple of sessions which resulted in lots of small fish, the eighteen pound fish again and this remarkable looking low double.....

It was during these visits I got talking to a venue regular who told me about the nearby river I mentioned at the start producing some large pike. Indeed he had pictures to back up the claims. "They're all good fish, doubles and twenties, no jacks there, the Eastern Europeans have taken them all," he added. Now I'm no pike expert or indeed an Eastern European expert but every venue I'd ever been told this about has always turned out to be complete rubbish. I've been to some remote corners of Lincolnshire, spots where bait fish shoal in their hundreds of thousands accompanied by hundreds of fishy predators and you'll get some bloke packing up after blanking all day blaming his lack of action on foreigners. Anyway, I digress. The photo's piqued my interest.

Never Gonna Give you Up

I said six blanks at the start but that doesn't quite cover the amount of effort I'd put in. Common consensus among my peers was to stay in an area for an hour and move, so every trip I was covering a fair amount of ground and water. Couple this with a few trips in the boat and I was beginning to get even more determined not to let it beat me. The twenty I had seen caught was tricked by staying in the same spot all day, dawn till dusk. Strange as this seems now but I just couldn't bring myself to that level of boredom. I've never been that kind of angler and no disrespect to the angler in question but I needed to try and make things happen my way.

The turning point came via an online bait company and not Neville Fickling's who blocked me on Facebook for trying to stop him and his mates spouting embarrassing nonsense about Meghan Markle of all people. Shame. Anyway the company I used was Online Baits and even though it was very late in the season I ordered some Smelt, a bulk pack. I had been using sardines and mackerel, which I reckoned everyone else was using so something different might make a difference. In all honesty I was getting a bit desperate.

First trip out with this new bait, and I'm not making this up, I had fourteen fish. It can't just have been the bait. Conditions were pretty much perfect and they were obviously feeding with gay abandon. Obviously I didn't have any small ones as they'd all been taken. No wait, I did. In fact I only had three doubles among them.

Low double

Biggest of the day, 17lb 6oz

The next couple of trips were less productive but I was getting a few fish, some lovely ones too but not quite what I was after.

Another low double

So I was well in double figures in terms of trips, some not alone either. Benidorm Dave was after a twenty from there too and I'd taken a couple of mates on my early trips to introduce them to the joys of bait fishing for pike, oh the irony. Time was running out and the close season would soon curtail our efforts. Two weeks before the end of the season Dave had an afternoon off work. I'd completely lost the plot by then and would go early and walk further than I'd ever walked before in an effort to locate a bloody twenty pounder. I reckoned by the time Dave got to me, I have worked my way back halfway along the stretch, giving him plenty of water to go at too.

The Chaos Twins looked at me as if I was mad. I walked upstream as far as I could and threw my gear down, catching my breath while I peeled off a couple of layers of clothes. Sure enough I worked my way downstream moving every half an hour or so. I was methodical and it was a bind moving all the time but like I said, I'd gone half crazy. If the twenty was still about, I'd put a bait near it, surely?

Around lunchtime I moved for the umpteenth time. The river curved around away from me, an inside bend. The first bait went in close to the edge, probably three feet out. The second cast went wrong. Far too close I thought as the float bounced off the bank. The bait was in the water though and if I'd been a little less fatigued and a bit keener I'd have re-cast it. The blank morning had dampened my enthusiasm bythen and I eagerly awaited Dave's arrival to lift my spirits. You know what's coming next don't you?

The far float started to cock, bait must have dropped down the shelf I thought, the thing was it kept going until it completely submerged. I struck and instantly knew it was a decent fish, the small ones fire off but this was steadier, more weighty. When I saw it roll in front of me I knew I had my prize, only in that moment you haven't completed the deal yet and it after an incredibly tense couple of minutes I finally had it in the net. It was the most fragile of hook holds too, how it stayed on I'll never know.

21lb 4oz

It was incredibly long, probably the longest pike I'll ever catch and while not particularly heavy by national standards I can't ever remember such an elated feeling at catching a fish. The effort, the many, many hours put it and miles walked, I'd finally done it. A venue I'd always overlooked for promises of bigger fish further afield. On a fluke cast and hook hold, you couldn't write it, well you could, I just have. Luckily Dave took the news well and we had had a few smaller ones between us that afternoon when he finally arrived. By coincidence it was my twenty first fish from that particular stretch and not the twenty one pounder that had graced so many other nets either. A different fish, a smart one. Haha. Probably living quite happily inches from the bank where no idiot would ever try and catch it.

With a week or so left of the season I ventured elsewhere on the river with some success often catching ten or more fish in a day. Mostly small ones but great fun. Strange as all the Eastern European anglers I'd seen on the river seemed well fed. Maybe, just maybe the vast vast majority of them get their food from supermarkets like the rest of us. Just a thought.

A 12lber from the upper reaches

Interspersed with my pike angling exploits I tried to find some decent perch on the river but despite multiple attempts to find them I failed. Maybe something to go at next year. They'll only be maybe two small groups of really big ones in over ten miles of river system so it could be a tough ask. Maybe if I hadn't dedicated most of my time to the pike I'd have done better. I'm not complaining though, finishing a jig saw or computer game is satisfying but you never go back to it once completed do you?

Back once again with the renegade master

I was at a bit of a loss at the end of the season so decided to head back to the local commercial complex to target perch again. After the recaptures I'd more or less written off the front lake so I tried one of the others. Feeding chopped worm sparingly with a lobworm over the top I knew I'd be fishing for a bite to start off with. Some bite it was too, my first perch from the lake was a very respectable one...

2lb 12oz

Despite not feeding much and the still cold weather the rest of the session was spent playing carp. One after another. They were relentless. Two more visits resulted in the much the same apart from the perch I was actually after. Just got completely wiped out by carp every time.

Love on Top

With carp seemingly active and travel restrictions gradually relaxed I headed over to the still quite local Brickyard Fishery in Authorpe. Notoriously hard but it contains some lovey fish. My first trip resulted in a blank. I fed a few mixers in various spots with little interest shown. The odd one was taken but they were typically cautious. Being so close to Rod Hutchinson's old factory they've seen some good anglers over the years and most methods.

I'm not sure why but the next day I went back. They couldn't be that hard to catch could they? Luckily there were no other anglers there and I could wander around at will. Within a minute of getting out of the car I had one on. I didn't feed anything, just flicked a bait in an area I could see a few cruising about while sitting quietly out of sight. With so many trailing branches in the water it's always a fraught affair playing one there but I eventually got it in the net......

Mid-double Mirror

Amazingly an hour or so later I hooked another, still not feeding anything. Unfortunately I lost it and having seen it, it was one of the better ones so unfortunately is a bit of an understatement. I was gutted. Having paid for my day ticket I carried on despite knowing I probably wouldn't get another chance. No more fish were visible in that area and after a couple of laps of the lake I found a few fish near a sunken tree. Luckily one of them made a mistake and I got another one, along with several twigs and branches....

Mid-double Common

That definitely signalled and end to the days action. They are remarkable fish, very old and cautious. I did go back once. Again first cast I had a take and left it in hope of a bigger fish later on. It spat out the bait and for the rest of the afternoon despite trying every trick in the book they just wouldn't be fooled. Forget controllers and the like. Any sign of an angler and they just shut up shop. I had mine freelining and sitting well back from the water. Whoever suggested life was too short for carp fishing must have been to this lake. I didn't go back.

I still throw a few back. Talk a little smack

A new venue to me was actually closer to my house. Even though travel restrictions had been lifted my car could only be trusted on short journeys, limiting my fishing options somewhat. In the middle of a large holiday complex sat two, reasonably sized lakes. I needed to catch some twenty pound plus carp for a little competition I'm in and this place seemed to contained what I was after. First things first though, were there any perch in there? Sure enough after half an hour I had caught a couple and one just over two pounds, a good start although not actually what I was there for.

A few mixers were scattered around with absolutely no interest shown at all. Luckily I had a back-up plan and piled in some bait in my nearside margin. An hour or so later some tail patterns appeared and I crept down to see a couple of carp ripping up the bottom, sending plumes of silty mud in to the water column. I lost a couple of fish to start with, hook pulls after the initial runs. I then hooked another that fought very strangely. it soon became apparent why, half of its tail was missing and not due to Otters before any carp anglers still reading this start having palpitations. Anyway, it was 22lb 5oz and a new PB. You're sadly not going to see a picture, I've had enough ribbing off my other mates over it to last a lifetime. a looker it wasn't.

I went again the next day, solely concentrating on carp. I had eight in total all inches from the bank including two over 17lb. They aren't the nicest carp in the world but it's great fun and hopefully I'll get a new PB that isn't so embarrassingly ugly.

17lb 10oz

Superfly Guy

Last but not least is a few trips to Withern Mill Trout Fishery in Withern. One day I had over twenty trout while others were more challenging. I really like it there, the people are great and the fishing is superb. Some highlights.....