Getting Crabby - for the fun of it

I was coerced back to the tow path this weekend.  Inevitably my intended break from match fishing  and the blog writing was cut short. I suppose I should be pleased with the complaints at the lack of a blog last Sunday.  It shows I am supplying a service.

 A service to those anglers who like me , have bad days tangle rigs and struggle on occasion to draw well.  I know this because people say , I look forward to your blog it cheers me up on a bad day!

So when Spanners said ditch the drop shotting and Piking and come fishing with me for fun. I thought why not.  When I got to the meeting spot Kev the Bread Chubb was there too and Leo turned up .

It was agreed we would try the Crab apple section of the canal and just have a pleasure session.

As we set up it was clear we all wanted to get something from the day, and inevitably we decided to add a little spice and go a pound each winner take all in a fun mini match.  The only difference being we would choose our own peg.

Kev and Spanners went either side of the famous crab apple tree and Leo went right of Spanners. Me I plumped for left of Kev.  We  eased into a 10 o'clock start and decided to fish till 3 pm.  So we were away and straight away I had a few Roach on the whip. Feeling pleased to be catching, I looked right to see every one else all catching quickly as well.

I suppose there is always pride at stake and of course the obligatory pound bet.  Sometimes the pounds mean more than any pools denomination. It s taking a quid of your mate that's so pleasing. They day was whizzing by as we all caught well for an hour. Small fish admittedly but the float was a pleasing disappearing sight.

Then the first Boat came through and killed it dead for Kev and I, Leo and Spanners kept going.  Kev and I resumed catching after the silt settled 15 minutes later. And so the day went steady patches of catching in between occasional 10 minute blank spots.

It became very dark over Will's mothers as the black clouds rolled in.  Panic time as I had left my coat at home.  Good job I had bought the golf umbrella I keep in the van to my peg. So after erecting the brolly I stuffed it down the back of my bib and brace and sat there as the first of the heavy rain smashed into it.  I must have looked a right Charlie, but it worked it kept the rain of and kept me hands free for fishing.

Good job to as the others were in fast forward catching mode and I had to get a wriggle on.  Brian Shutler arrived for a chat and watched us all catch the rain had gone and so had Brian.  The temperature dropped as the rain had stopped and after a period of no bites the drop in light levels on this shortest daylight Sunday this year; the bites came back.

A little late maybe but I was catching again and the relaxed nature of the day was quite pleasing. Kev called it, and I pulled my net maybe 3 and half I thought.

Along to Leo first, and he pulled out a bag full including a chunk of a Perch and another Perch of a pound to go with his small fish.  Weighing in went as follows.
 Leo 5 lb 6 oz
Spanners 93 fish for 4 lb 6 oz
 Kev the Bread 3 lb 4 oz
and then me , my net above 3 lb 13.5 oz.

Pounds all paid to Leo, we shook hands and wished each other Merry Christmas, and see you at JCs 2 dayer between Christmas and New year.

On leave now so perhaps I will get in that Piking tomorrow or Tuesday, I am sure.

See you other side of Christmas and Boxing day.

2015 Blogscars aka Fishing Oscars

First sorry to those avid readers for not posting a blog last weekend.  I have taken on board complaints and well all I can only say is the black dog had a grip and I couldn’t be arsed.  To note, I did fish Sunday and ended a run of poor results by framing – and miracle upon miracle caught a Carp.  No match this weekend so I shall be piking on my lonesome, just as well the black mood I’m in at the moment.  This blog however is a big end of year traditional award and comment type.  

So grab your glass of Port snuggle down in front of the log fire with a bowl of Phileous Fogg American style Cheese bubble chips or mince pies; and be prepared to laugh or go to sleep.  Odds on the sleep will win lol.

Well, has it really been another year since the last round of deserved and some would say un-deserved blogscars?  I thought I would go back to the very beginning and note the changes to my original reasoning for doing a blog and how it has developed to over 51 thousand views to date.  Thank you to my family for not reading but clicking on the view tab for 95% of that 50 Grand.

In the beginning the intention was to provide myself with a sort of electronic diary as issues with memory had meant, I was forgetting where and how I had fished.  To that end it’s proved most useful, in that memory has only become worse and recent neurological events have only compounded the issue.  It was also meant not to be too technical (not a problem I hear you say – Gary,  you know rock all anyhow) ; concentrating more on the ups and downs, the funny stories, the funny people and the banter that surrounds this sport we do.

I quickly realised though if I was not to cause discord or bad feeling you have to strike a balance between being an orator of personal feelings (telling the truth as I see it) and being gracious to those who far too often make specious comment about me.  Needless to say there are always to sides to any story.

 I take comfort in the fact that there is some scientific evidence that we all respond naturally to what I call a gut feeling of who means us well and who is out to make our lives a misery.

Bear with me whilst I expand on the science.  The gut feeling I refer to manifests itself as something akin to a radio frequency.  If you share a similar frequency and generally we interpret this on meeting someone new, pretty quickly, as a feeling that – yes I will get along with this bloke/ woman.  If the frequency is wildly different then the likelihood is you will naturally distance yourself from the person.  Coincidentally top sportsmen have been found to have almost identical frequencies at the point of “single mindedness” that takes them over that winning line.

As always there is other base line data you have to include for consideration - that of the love hate relationship and the relationship that builds over time based on a balancing of frequencies.  The biggest problem of all is the sharpness of the brain. In the case of a thick Wiltshire bloke like me, I take a while to recognise the signs (frequency) couple this with an inbuilt need to see the best in others it takes a while to sink in.

 

Politeness too is an issue.  How many of us actually say what we think – with no fear or care for upsetting the recipient? Or do we say out of politeness “life is too short” or “let sleeping dogs alone” for want of an easier life?

 Where is this bullshit going I hear you say?  Well it is the basis for what can be a good past year or indeed one you wish to forget!

On the year to forget front, it’s been an absolute mare of a year at the draw bag.  I am absolutely convinced that my triumphant of Angling Gods (the deceased I Marks / K Ashurst / Kim Milson) are testing me as only Job (old testament James 5:11) was tested.

 I was disappointed to see a lot of hard work not come to fruition with the PMG Match group; where despite some notable success as a team and some great individual performances.  The lure of being sponsored and fishing with the Gods proved too much of a draw.  I hope that one day the camaraderie and friendship at the core of Pewsey club will bring you home where you will always be welcome.  If not, then please be true to your new sponsored outfit give it your all in good times and bad, turn out , grind it out, support your mates on the bank, and I am sure after more losses than expected one day the winning sun will shine on the podium you mount.

On the year to remember front it has been mostly good for me.  Despite a poor run in the autumn where I have felt very sorry for myself.  My fishing has improved.  I have had more “pick-ups” than ever before.  I have consolidated second and third places in various comps and leagues but couldn’t quite win em.  I have caught some lovely bags of fish. 

I have enjoyed my never ending tussle to beat my friends, and behind the scenes; I have received more genuine and generous comments about my improved angling / consistency than ever before.

 It’s always nice to receive those comments’.  Especially from those who, I respect and admire – proper fishermen not wannebes.  Those who have been there and done it. In some cases still adding to massive well respected Angling CV’s.

………………………………………………………………………

So then to the awards.  Here is where I will be accused again of being a sycophant.   Not true it’s genuine, perhaps a bit gushy at times; but let’s lay that other ghost to rest.  It may be Wiltshire (Marc Kay, Si Irwin, and Chris Glover) but this is no inbred “bromance”.  It is my personal recognition of the blokes who I admire make me smile and laugh out loud and who are generous to a fault with their advice.

Canal Angler of the Year.  An odd one this as some would say where is he in the league?  But you have to look farther than that.  It’s consistency.  It’s the ability to regularly beat the best and the gods of the towpath week in and week out.  He is the back bone of the teams that do well.  It’s his points that win teams leagues.Ian Spanners Spanswick

Draw bag of the Year.  This one is a tie.  I know I hear you all say you still got to catch em, but I maintain if you draw well and on fish you are more than halfway there. Luck or not good angler on good peg means game over. Simon Burden and Brian Shutler. Left and Center

Match Organiser of the Year. Another tie.  Can’t get a fag paper between them.  Firstly Kev “the Bread” Chubb.  Chubby as you all know is the Pewsey Open Match Secretary and his organisational skills and enthusiasm have spawned some lovely matches this past year especially the evening series.  Little moan here though.  It does break my heart to see Kev and other match organisers of the past such as James Carty doing all the hard work and being rewarded with small turn outs.  Don’t come moaning in the future when you have no match to turn out to.  Tied with Kev is the wonderful Daz “Dazzer” Edgell. Daz has again this year taken the Wx Summer league and smashed it.  Wildly different venues testing all styles of angling merged with fun and frivolity, BBQs and banter. Well done both. KC forefront on left Daz on right

Team of the Year.  Sorry Pewsey boys especially Pewsey Red who in both summer and winter.  Put up spirited no moans angling being short of a full team for nearly all the matches.  You come a close second to the wonderful Clanfield Lads.

Pair of the year.  Okay steady on with the scrotum comments. Because it’s my friend Steve Trevett and I.  Consistency in the summer league saw us take the prize.

Bag of the year. Trevetts 10lb of Bleak from a summer River Avon in Chippenham, Graham Godwin’s 39lb from Radcot River Thames. Mike Marsden 40 lb. at Bradford on Avon all very worthy contenders.  However, selfishly I award myself and award for 353 of whip fish in the summer league Horcott lakes; 

and the top award goers to Brian Shutler for his stunning 74 lb. 11 oz. of Bream during a club match on the canal at Ladies Bridge.

Lowest moment of the year. Despite falling in at Bowden’s and almost drowning (kid you not drama queen) it has to be catching a Lake record Carp and with two minutes to go before the end of the match ( which I would have won) the Carp leapt free of the keep net which was at water level.  Landed on the quick release and descended into the depths losing all the fish in that net. There are not enough swear words in all the worlds vocabulary to sum up the moment!!!

Warm Cuddly feeling of the year. I had arranged a silver fish open match for friends and my angling heroes past present and future. Despite the atrocious conditions and drawing a peg between two angling gods, James Carty and Brian Shutler.  I fished well and framed.  Beating the blokes either side of you is always the first target in any match and when they are of such caliber it does give you a warm cuddly feeling.

Tackle item of the year. You are aware I am a tackle tart and avid hoarder of must have but not needed tackle.  In some cases though you buy something that just makes you wonder why it’s taken you so long to get around to owning it, or indeed not replacing a broken item.  In the case of replacing a broken item I would like to thank Brian Shutler for selling me one of his Normark Microllites to replace my crushed one. As for items bought at the best tackle shop in the south _ Reid’s Tackle Witherington Farm it my Fox “Chunk” base layer and my Preston Dri Boots.

Facebook friend of the year. Two guys here, one I have met and one I haven’t. First to Cliff Dutton never actually met and shook his hand but boy does he make me laugh; we must be on a similar frequency.  Thanks for convincing me to keep the blog going.  Second that giant of a man Shaun Bryan top bloke nuff said.

and Finally

My favorite photos of my fishing Year

Roll on James Cartys Christmas 2 dayer and here is hoping for a kinder draw bag in 2016.

Milkhouse Misery

It seems the mid week blip (below) was just that. A blip in a continuing run of bad results.

Back on home water and Milkhouse again as the wharf is under reconstruction.  Once again I had that " what am I doing  here ?" feeling, perhaps its time to take a break from fishing.

My peg was half way between permanent pegs 10 and 11. 

Setting up took more time than usual as my platform kept sinking in the saturated bank mud.  First one corner then the next very irritating, but have to get it right didn't want to go swimming.  Just think I left the draw till there was bugger all in the hat and still Simon managed to draw the other end, I give up.

Everyone stomped there way noisily past me and on up the tow path.  Eventually I was ready and sat waiting for the all in.  It came and we started. I need not have rushed it was ages before I got a bite.

Paul Giddings to my left had had a few including two nice Roach.  Alan to my left was like me though struggling for even a bite.

It seemed further along were catching but not us we literally sat and stared at immobile floats.  The match was a drag the wind came and went the drizzle the same. Still the float remained inanimate. Both Alan and I had a round 9 fish each.  Paul on the other hand was working hard at the squat fish.

I scaled down to a 24 and a single squat and tried to prize a fish from the water but nothing happened. Many friendly voices shouted encouragement in my head  -  don't give up - if they ain't there you cant catch em.  But still the misery black clouds gathered and I decided to pack up and go home.

A splash to my right saw me watching Alan landing a hybrid bream around 2 and 3'4 pound. Bugger, that's torn it.  Still if the bream are starting to come into the area and feed I will stay on.

So with half an hour to go I got my head down and willed the float to dip.  Alan had another 10 tiny squat fish to go with his big un..  Paul was still catching small stuff me I know had 12 fish for around 5 ounces. With 2 minutes to go I flicked the shallow rig as tight as I possibly could to the far bank Ivy and it slid away to be rewarded with an 9 ounce roach hybrid.

All out.

Embarrassing 

I packed up fed up up of the sight of my kit and quite frankly didn't care if I never went fishing again.

The weigh in began.and it was instantly clear that the fish had followed the stomping feet to the end peg.  Simon the Championship leader had filled his boots and also had a couple of hybrids to boot.  But as we came back down the bank there were several very close weights.

Well done to Alan his two and 3/4 hybrid giving him second. Spanners as always had a multitude of small fish, and Marc Kay and Leo the first of 2 pairs to get exactly the same weights on the day.

Simon in the middle , Spanners right and Alan left. Smile lads you at least have had fish.

Army Fur and Feather Ding dong bell I draw Roach and oh well

Where has the year gone it really doesn't seem like a year since we froze our nuts of on blanking nets last year.  Free breakfast downed we got to the business.  There had been a last minute surge which meant Craig went for Sellwood and Cottage, bit of a bow I didn't know and didn't have any rods  - expecting to pole the snake.

Never mind drew the outer snake peg 37 not the best by a long chalk.  Especially as the next peg to my left was Nige Gregory 5 pegs along on 42 and he had 6 pegs to his left empty as well.  Basically pleasure fishing, good on your Nige.  Next peg to him was peg 50 Ben Burgess.

Cant blame the organiser Craig Bate as 7 no shows had cocked up the pegging big style.  Those who didn't show ought at least get a bollicking.

Ropes across to stop the cormorants meant I couldn't make the most of the space to my left but did mug a 4lb Carp against the platform to my left..  Fished across for an hour with no bites before the wind made it to difficult.

In essence half way through the match and one fish eventually I had a bite on the 4 mtr whip line.  It was a lovely Roach around six ounces.  Then a 5 ounce skimmer and a 3 ounce skimmer.

Got into a nice rhythm of banging the Roach one a chuck and lovely fish.  And in the next hour I didn't stop before all of sudden like someone had flicked a switch they were gone.  But what lovely fishing double caster or double bronze over half Sensas magic and half gros gardons.

Nothing for the last hour of the match. But was pleased with a lovely days Roach bashing on the whip.

So to the scores on the doors.

Sellwood and two pegs on Outer Snake. Dave and Ben making the most of fliers

Cottage and 2 pegs on Inner snake Mayo and Rocky doing the Biz.

Inner Snakes and Craig Stewart lead the way.

 My section outer snake pegged from 30 on-wards.  Nige and Ben making most of Carpy Pegs with 4 and 3 Carp respectively to take 1st and 2nd in section me third with my Roach.

Ben below with most of his weight.

 So back to the Cafe and Rachel and Glen had the CHICKEN SOUP ready to consume whilst the scores were totted up; Mayo gets stuck in

Soup consumed we get to the prizes.  Everyone from last to first gets a prize at the fur and feather, and there was plenty to choose from.  

People come and get their prizes and eventually it was my go .  I suppose my weight was good enough for top twenty , but I didnt care I had caught loads and its great to catch Roach on the Snake again. Still enough to pick up 3rd in section and a pile of goodies.

Finally we get to the winner Dave Burns who made the most of one of the best pegs on the fishery to leave with Red and White Wine, Vodka, crate of Stella, cheese and port etc etc etc......can yo manage that lot Dave?

A big thanks to Craig for the organisation and Chris Perry for dishing out the goodies.  Merry Christmas everyone and hope Santa brings you full nets ...........................unless in your in my section.

Nothing on for the Nutters

Its been a funny old week as I flip flopped between looking forward to a weekend off of fishing; and going Piking, or looking for an Open match.  Having decided not fish on Tuesday,Wednesday and a very cold night bought thoughts of Piking. Rod net and rucksack style.  Then Thursday and an invitation to join friends fishing the Roach pegs on the Thames at Lechlade.

It was time to commit, so I said I would join Leo, Spanners and the Pony to fish the pegs we can never seem to draw in a match.

Blow me, if then I didn't get a call for help to fill in on the last round of the UTWL. Thing is with me once committed I don't change.  So Lechlade it was.

School boy error first was not to check on the venue before I made my decision. I fought to keep Poppy on the road as the official 3 rd storm of the winter named "Clodagh" battered us from side to side and we chi-caned between falling branches.

We arrived to find "my little pony" Chris still basking in the glory of his winter league individual triumph.  And it dawned on us all, we have another whole year of it yet to come.  The banter was high as it always is amongst mates and Chris was telling Captain Slow (Leo) to get a move on, and so we formed a convoy and headed for the river.

The horrendous gale force were doing their best to push us all into the Thames.  Even the Swans took a leeward side of the boat using it as a wind break.  The wind was also whipping up the river surface into white topped waves.  The river was on the rise it was chocolate brown, it was full moon last night and blowing a hooly.  Everything pointed to turning around and going home.

However what do the nutters do? Well we decided on a mini match!!  Bloody fools.  Still we decide peg one will be by the bridge which has reasonable protection from the wind up to peg 4 in full wind.

Well you can guess where I drew -yes you got it in the full wind.!

 Spanners (far right) drew the plumb peg by the bridge and between Chris on peg 3 (foreground) Leo on peg 2.  The boys decided to set up the full range of float, feeder rods and a Pole.

Me I had no such luxury it was literally a different day my side of the bush with an open field behind me no chance of a pole. If the wind could nearly blow over me ( and I am a lithe' muscular 20 stone). A carbon pole would be blown clear into the river.

The brief brightness from above returned to dark foreboding skies as we started our mini match.  In went the caster laden ground bait and as it disappeared into the liquid chocolate any hope of a bite went with it.  After an hour of shear bliss, and no bites, humour was flowing out of my wellies.

A dog walker stopped for a laugh and exchange of views.  "Didn't think I would see any foolish fisherman today......... I thought the local home for the mentally disturbed had dissolved their fishing club ho, ho, ho."

I was just about to say listen Santa, take your funny comments and shove them up your ar............... when a particularly strong gust lifted his jack russell of the ground and landed it precariously hanging on from the top of the river bank.  I had to smile, but did feel for the poor little dog, an owner who thinks hes funny and now the god of wind was trying to launch him into the river.

The incident brought home how it was time to seriously think about packing in.  It actually wasn't funny now and was way past tempestuous.

Waves crashed against both banks and no amount of weight on the line (I was using a 3 swan float) was getting the bait down and or making it presentable.

The view in front of me was the definition of storm view; and for the second week in a row, I thought

"what are you doing here you bloody fool".  

Branches nay trees were now floating by with the odd dead sheep and traffic cone.  The river had risen another inch in the past hour; and the circling maelstrom was forcing more and more white tops.  

Just what would it take for me to realise the inevitable and go home.

Leo had come along and he and Spanners like me had, had no bites at all.  The pony had flung the feeder to the middle and hooked a gudgeon. Leo flask in hand went back to his swim and both he and Spanners prudently packed away their poles before a branch came down and made it a very expensive day.

The waves smashed even harder against the banks, almost screaming for my attention. To my right a small section of the bank slid purposefully into the river which made me look at my feet and my position.  

As parts of the bank under my feet crumbled , I looked up to see Patrick Swayze and Keanu Reeves catching the Point break surf down the middle of the river and decided enough was enough.  

Just packing up was a task in itself. 

Trying to stop kit being blown into the river; and get this when I pulled my empty net out. It took off (bearing in mind it was sopping wet 4 mtrs long and with two sea weights on the end) it was parallel to and 4 feet of the ground like some Matrix sponsored box Kite.

It was the fastest drying net I have ever had.  

I loaded up the trolley and pushed my kit well away from the bank and against a supporting fence.  I went along to my mates who were now all lobbing 50 to 60 gram feeders and trying to get them to hold bottom.  As the Pony was the only one to have a fish I said I would pay him the agreed quid (pools fee) but as my wallet was under several layers of clothes and gore-tex, I wasn't going to strip now.

I bid them farewell just as Spanners landed a half ounce Gudgeon.  Maybe I would owe him instead of the Pony! I will find out later.

See you next time.