First lets recognize my mate Ian "Spanners" Spanswick, his fantastic season last year included him winning the individual Trophy for the best angler only dropping 1 point through the whole competition outstanding, superb, incredible the superlatives go on. However the organizers failed to recognize this achievement by providing an individual trophy. That was put right this morning. Taking a leaf from the Tour De France, a yellow jersey was presented , nearly a year late but never mind.
Shielding his eyes from the fading light of fame time to get on with today's business. He needs a bit of last
years ability to show we need to beat Clanfield who are creeping away with it. Well done mate.
So after having a pleasure session on the match stretch last week getting 12 lb + of lovely Roach I had decided that the thoughts of giving up match fishing were suppressed for the moment. Still there but suppressed. Bad guts of the last few days meant I had nibbled a breakfast not even finishing my Bacon Brioche roll (didn't taste right), no tea last night and the stomach was starting to rumble. Never mind lets get on with it. One of the issues with this venue is the field owner doesn't like anglers and had refused to open the gate. "Get of my land" comes to mind; but when the anglers in this crowd are not in the spring of youth its a pain.
So it was hand balling all the kit over the gate into 6 inches of recently rain filled cow slurry. This achieved the objective of stirring not just the shit but a billion biting insects as well. So I sprayed myself tip to toe in Jungle spray, which acted as a perfect fly strip and before I had gone 10 yards I was speckled head to toe in insects stuck all over me. I had drawn A section not far to walk but unless you got the weir you were on a hiding to nothing, stuffed with Bream and Chubb. In fact Pewsey 4 on peg two, Pewsey 3 on peg 3, and yours truly well up from the weir on peg 4. Dreaded Clanfield two up from me. We were pegged very tight. I know its hard to please all but we really were on top of each other.
So it was down a steep bank to and set up the rigger on a floating precarious bed of reeds and mud. First thing I noticed was last week I had 10 feet deep here I had 6 feet at best. Last week the water was a lovely clean green and dead still. This week, coloured and moving after spectacular thunderstorms of the last few days. I had already had a text from the talented James Carty saying maggot day Gaz, leave the Caster in the bag. James I agree bang on again. In fact by the colour I may have to revert to pinkie to get a bite.
That sinking feeling that comes from a fat bloke sitting on his platform occurred; but stopped just short of paddling. Providing I didn't move around too much I would be okay. So same tactics as last week find the drop off.
Wrong , flat featureless and just a shallowing at the end of the peg to around 5 feet. The out fall opposite was impossible to present a float a strong down stream breeze coming across my right and into my face. A thick bed of silk weed meant the feeder was out . The stick perhaps. Not enough pace might as well use a body up float on the pole. Set up a whip for the inside.
The match got under way and it was baking hot, the sort of strength sapping heat you don't need. The midges whilst not biting, were going up my nose in my ears and drinking the tears from eyes.
I had a slight crease in the water where the river couldn't decide whether to go right and out the out fall or go straight on. I plumbed the entire length of the crease to ensure there were no other depressions or features I could use and there was nothing. Still the turbulence of the crease might offer something providing I could keep the bait on a tight line. Decided on a bait dropper hemp and semi bronze maggot.
Inside line first, while the bait line settles. 25 Bleak later I thought it was time to get amongst the Roach. Fish just slightly over depth and holding back the first bite was a beauty, and I slipped a the net under a 10 oz Roach, next was smaller. But they kept coming for an hour.
Then it died as the bloke in the peg above me started to catch. He did apologize for catching in my swim, which I accepted grudgingly understanding that we were pegged to close to each other. He didn't do it again.
I decided to bait again fearing he was drawing my fish. So in went the 50/50 mix of Sensas Etang and leam with some dead pinkie mixed in. 10 minutes later I had them back and he had stopped catching. The heat was unrelenting and whilst I was piling in the fluid, the lack of food over the last few days was taking its toll and I felt very lightheaded. Concentration was difficult, the midges in my face and the heat making me irritable. I couldn't think straight and reached for my worm to find they had fried in the sun I hadn't covered them - idiot.
Decided to drink half my last bottle of water and tip the rest on my head . That was better. Started to think again and get my game face back. In short I worked it really hard. Moving the float up and down , stringing out the shot shirt button , then bulking it back to bulk dropper dropper.
I scraped every possible fish out of this unpromising swim, from Bleak to Gudgeon, Roach to angry proud 2 oz Perch The all out was called and I feared the worst. No where near my 12 lb pleasure session of last week. I was sure A1 (ISIS) peg had got it with rumour's of two chubb, But I needed to beat Clanfield and not let the team down.
Ian was looking doubtful as his 1lb and half had been pipped by Dave Johnston by 2 ounces. Clanfield weighed in an impressive bag of small fish for 4 lb 8oz. That's torn it I couldn't remember what I had, but it wasn't going to be enough. Tugged the net out to be mildly impressed, not so bad after all the hard work chasing the fish may have paid off.
Done it , 6 lb 5 oz. Peg 1 did have two Chubb, and a few Perch but weighed in 4 lb 2 oz, so I had taken my section. I should have felt delighted but I didn't feel anything but lightheaded. We headed back across the fields to the gate. One or two comments of concern as people said you alright mate you look like shit.
Truth was I should have noted my sugar was crashing, but my head was somewhere else. Next thing I know we are at the gate, Brian is telling me the good news that I may have won the match and he was second in his section, but been beaten by the Clanfield bloke. Still we had his second and my first was a good three points.
We started to reverse the process from the morning, but I was gone. On my bum with people shoving Jelly Babies sugary sweets and energy drinks down me. For around 15 minutes I was on a different planet, but thanks to everyone for helping me.
Back to the pub after a pause to gather my senses and again more fluid and sugar. I really must remember to eat something before fishing, I am too busy fishing to eat during a match. Clearly the lack of food combined with the blistering heat had made the sugar crash. My clothes were soaked through and covered in sweat stains. I stunk and was not a pretty sight.
Sorry I haven't photographed the score sheets, but my mind is not on it. Clanfield did well with their Lee Pollard beating me into second place for the match. His 7 lb two monster Perch and a Chubb two much for my Roach. Still nice to pick up 70 quid for second.
Well done to Steve Trevet winning his section third in the match I think. Sadness that Leo struggled to get ounces. Danny scraped 5 points in a very close section. Not sure about everyone else. A little controversy at the results as Mr Rushton reminded all he had 1 lb 6.5 ounces not 6.5 ounces as the score sheet suggested. This meant a recount but I think on the day our total of 17 points has probably gifted the summer league to Clanfield. We wait with baited breath for the official result.
Will let you know later.
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