Pewsey .......and Leo gets the Lions share

My mate Attila was outside early today ready to follow me to Lady's Bridge for the last canal match of the 2014/15 Championship only one more on the lake and then that's it. Before all that there was the small matter of the ice inside and outside of my windscreen that needed removing. That done Atilla asked I take it easy as the roads had already proven very Icy.

A steady pace through the villages saw us through Tidworth and out onto a bright frosty Salisbury Plain.  The pigeons pecked lazily at the road, silage steamed at the edge of the fields and a translucent Barn Owl ghosted in front me. Quite a sight against the Shepherds warning blood red dawn sky.  No Ipod this week as its busted, so a CD Bob Seger and the Silver Bullet Band thumped through the speakers as I dodged the black ice bits.

Unloaded and the banter flowed.  Bit of a scalp for my mate Spanners as beat Callum Dicks of the next peg on the Basingstoke canal yesterday.  I asked him for his autograph, you can imagine the response.  I know it was a very cold night but it was a huge surprise to see the canal frozen and reasonably thickly after one night. That's a blow no ice breaker.

Draw done I was first hand in the bag in the hope of drawing the bay  - just once it would be so nice to draw in the bay with those famous slabs and hybrids.  Not to be the out of the bay and just up the narrows.  If not for the ice I would have been pleased. Can't have it all.  So whose in my section, because out of the bay you can forget framing.

Tough section, Alan Brown and Spanners recent blind pairs winners, and spanners still in the afterglow of taking a scalp yesterday. Chris Rushton always there or there about's, Dave Johnston on my left, James the legend Carty just past Spanners and one of the most improved recently Chas Short. With Neil Pegrum on the end peg. I needed Brian Shutler (1st) and Si Burden (2nd in Championship) to be up the narrows and me in the bay to have chance of overhauling them. But know they were on prime pegs in the bay. God hates me.

A slightly later start as landing nets and pole cops were used in synchronicity to forge a gap in the ice to fish through.

Memories of the lake a couple of weeks ago where ice was a pain.  So I was particularly meticulous in cutting out a 8 foot wide band out 12 meters out and scooped out all the mini ice flows out.  It was quite therapeutic tapping away and gradually exposing clear water. Should be able to get something out of there me thinks and started doing rigs and plumbing up.  A worm line at 12 mtrs and bread line on the near drop off.  Small ground bait line to the far right.

All in and almost immediately a boat comes through.  On my three quarter line he neatly linked all our swims.  Problem was now we had large moving sheets of ice at the whim of the breeze. You've guessed it the ice is moving.  Sneakily Chris and Alan to my right are sliding the sheet toward me and blaming the wind.  I have a little grumble and try to redress the balance by widening my gap again. A 30 minute spell of ice nibbling and scooping sees a wider and wider are so I can slide a rig out the inside bread line gives me a tiny pair of eyes that was born yesterday.

Back over the worm line and I cant hit the bites until I realise the culprit are crayfish.  A shock as I thought they hibernated.  Still 3 dispatched into the field behind, the frustration gets the better of me and I come 3 inches of bottom out of claw distance.

The float dips and shakes and I miss another bite.The ice is closing in around me again but I really feel if I leave the float it will go under properly.  So after several taps it confidently slides away and I'm IN .  Yes a proper fish and the 3 elastic rips away toward Chris on my right.  DJ to my left says eh up Gazzer is in.  Chris mutters about needing me to blank or be last today so he can jump over me in the Championship.  Steady progress by the fish had bottomed out the elastic and I decide to pull a little and it turns the fish.  I ship in a couple of sections and I am caught up in the brambles behind.  So after de-tangling that the fish is away again.  Now the elastic as adhered to itself to the ice sheet and fish roles under the ice causing to ripple and buckle.  Patience , you got the Chubb in through the ice a fortnight ago.  At which point the ice sliced through the elastic and it was over.

Delight from Dave Johnston on my left and Chris to my right.  I look right and the magnitude of fishing Ladies Bridge and not being in the bay dawns on me. Alan Brown, Nic Worters, Leo, and Mike are all in and elastics are under pressure.  The wind has blown their ice toward Chris and I and they all have plenty of open water to play fish.  It makes losing that big un a bit of a blow.  Needless to say spirits dropped further as two more reasonable fish are lost to the ice.

Dave, asks politely how long I have been doing catch and release mid canal!!! I muttered bad language in his direction, and tried not to let the red mist descend.  The weather turns and the cold wind brings a sleety rain but takes most of the cold ice sheet to the bottom of the canal.

LEO IS BAGGING . One a chuck slab after, hybrid and hes zooming away. Mike Marsden is doing his best keep up, and everyone in section one it seems has a big slab. Shutler and Burden are ping on my misery, fair play to them they have the skills and both can draw well.  In this match the latter is the most important, they have drawn well.

I am consistent at least  fish about every 30 minutes but all small ones. The first of the "can't stand it any longer crew" are packing in and going home the rain and lack of bites in second two taking its toll. Dave J, to my left Chris and Alan to my right and Chas have all had enough.

Chris is going to hang on a bit longer.  That is until a boater who I can only describe politely as a ...kin idiot decides hes going to reverse from peg 2 past all of us toward Wilcott.  His boat was called "Switched Off!" no kidding.  As he got in line with Chris and I this Captain of the local Keystone cops full throttles forward and tries to turn the boat around.

What a pratt.  He completely destroyed any chance we had of any further fish as he partly beached himself across the canal nose and stern touching both banks, what a mess.

I had to get up and walk away, afraid my rising abuse for the man would damage the reputation of Pewsey Anglers.  After 20 minutes of pure bliss, at watching my swim destroyed, he chugged by saying its ok I am alright now.

Glad you are alright mate, I said, just to let you know your a bad advert for the normally considerate boaters around here.  At which point his wife chipped in with anglers are so rude and shouldn't organize matches near boats! We boaters pay a lot of money to be on the water you know.

She looked a little shocked when I stated neither of them had a brain.

I suggested if they had money they should pay for some canal boat driving lessons.  Or sell up and donate to a brain charity.  "Well really" she sniffed.

I looked at the pea souper in front of me and although I have the minerals for a scrap, the fight flowed out my wellies.

No more bites except from a condom, a newspaper, a carrier bag and other boater detritus stirred up by Mr and Mrs money bags. I look left to see Spanners well in and elastic out. Turns out he was about to swing in 3 oz Perch only for a big to snaffle it.  Struggling manfully to get Esox into his way to small net, the Pike ejects the fish and it flies ten feet above him and drops in his lap!!!!!  Thank you kindly he says I'll take that.

Chris has gone and so as Atilla, and the match comes to an end.  As James had predicted Neil on end peg posts the weight to beat in our section (1 lb 5 oz) Only James , Spanners and me to wheigh in as the rest in our section have gone home. James 12 oz, Spanners 12 oz Me 12 oz, no wait a minute thats 11 oz.  Really yes the scales give me the bad news again

The score sheet is sopping wet, so its a typed result this week. Top 5 in bay and all lost multiple slabs and hybrids

1. Leo Pocock 21 lb 2 oz = 15 Points
2. Mike Marsden 15 lb 5 oz = 14 points
3. Brian Shutler 6 lb 15 oz = 13 Points
4. Nic Worters 4 lb 11 oz = 12 points
5. Simon Burden 2 lb 11 oz = 11 Points
6. Neil Pegrum 1 lb 5 oz = 10 points
7. James Carty and Ian Spanswick ( including gift from pike) 12 oz = 9 points
8. Gary Williams 11 oz =7 points
9.Martin Aris 10 .5 oz = 6 points

Note for Spanners may have beaten Callum Dicks yesterday, but needed a jammy Perch to beat a fat bloke from Wiltshire today.

Martin hands over his quid side bet with Leo.

Leo shows off some of the 21 lb + of Bream and Hybrids

And looking ahead to next weeks Salisbury Open pairs on the River Nadder and River Avon the lads dry off take the money and Mike has his obligatory fag.

Finally, well done to Spanners secures the canal champs and the magnificent Mr Brian Shutler uncatchable now in the Lake and Canal combined Champs.

Army 4 and from bad to worse

It is with some effort that I even put finger to keyboard.  There is very little to say.  The day started badly.  Couldn't sleep so got up early and decided to head north across Salisbury plain to Chippenham.

7 am I thought I would be first there at Witherspoons on the bridge and I was. Problem was the bloke refused to open the door.  Saying ten minutes mate.  After half an hour and the queue now 25 strong all wanting breakfast I banged on the door and shouted through the letterbox.

Eventually the git opened the door and said we don't open till 8!!!!!  Kev tried to explain we had booked well in advance and there would be 35 blokes wanting breakfast.  Still no joy he wasn't opening till 8.  So we went along to Cafe Nero who were happy to host us.

Was volunteered to do the boards and without glasses (forgotten) that was going to be interesting.  I fancied C section nearer the town, but drew A7 up in Riverside drive .  Chance it could be the ditch swim (a flier) but no Ivan had that. 

No worries me thinks Ill be other side of ditch.  Nice deep hole on inside were the stream comes in .  But oh no it appears Chippenham have left that to get brambly and overgrown.  Sod it I am top end of the shallows. not good

After dodging the piles of dog crap I made my across bumpy ground to my swim.  Bloody hell its a ten foot drop and I am going to have to be Eddy the Eagle to get down there.

Not good for a grey haired old fart, so after use a rope and tackle and lowering my kit down I was left with my rigger trolley.  What to do. Couldn't leave at top of bank especially as the gap in front of me was not my swim that was off to the left out of sight. If I leave it it will be robbed no doubt.So lowered that down as well, and then sat there having my own personal seizure.

The river was pushing through and filthy dirty. Keep net had only been in a few minutes and it was minging.  Enough silt on it to start a market garden.

As for the match. Well set out two lines and an up the water long line bleak 6 mtr to hand rig, in hope. 

Dropped in the bait dropper and for the second match in a row came back leaving bait dropper on the bottom, really, yes really.  Stepped back of the platform in a temper and was poked in the eye by bank side rushes.

Fumbling around like Mr Magoo with blinding watery stinging eyes I then stood on one of my tubes old stick floats.  I couldn't bear to look some of the floats in there are John Dean, and Allerton floats. I walked away and leaned against a near by tree.  I couldn't find a cat to strangle so I gave it ten minutes of feeling sorry for myself, bottom lip pouting like a sulking three year old.

After all the "fun" I started ten minutes late. Carl on the next peg had filled it in with 10 big balls of ground bait.  So I plumbed up my rigs again as the river level had gone up. 

First drop in (5 mtr line) and I was in.  In alright. In to a bloody shopping trolley. Knowing they don't count I pulled for a break lost a five quid Carulso float (manic giggling now taking over) I went through some breathing exercises.  I kid you not when I say my temper was bringing on a heart attack. I fired the feeder across onto the edge of a slack.  The ground bait emptied and the feeder pulled back to mid river.  Quick change to a bloody heavy feeder meant it would hold.

Whilst I watched the tip, I opened the stick float tube.  Sure enough several favourites, John Dean, Ian Heaps and Jon Allerton  as well as some newer favourites Drakes float had been destroyed by the fattest angler in the world. Temper burst and I kicked out at a nearby hemp tin left by a previous angler. Missing it completely my standing foot slipped and I ended up on my backside. 

You would think it couldn't get worse but in the kefuffle I had knocked over my bait and it was making a desperate bid to escape.

Over two thirds of the match gone and the wonderful rising muddy river was not offering anything not even a bite.  People are walking the bank and Ben Bentley appears to be leading with a tiny roach and 10 minnows.  An hour to go and Carl gets a 6 ounce Chubb.  Ben has lost some sort of Salmon / Trout and Pez has a gudgeon.

Two minutes to go and I am facing a blank. Gutted. 

For once I will blow my own trumpet and say, I am fishing reasonably well lately and the past 12 months has overall been very good.  Some may disagree but I am no mug on a river so to blank is infuriating.  

Finally the float dips and I get a roach on the whistle.

It appears the last hour had produced at least one fish each it just depended on size.  Mine went 20 grams I was sure.  The scales bounced between 20 and 10 and back again.  I asked the scales man to call it at 20 grams surely - but he waited the water dripped off and the tight git gave me 10 grams. Cant complain its the scales mans call not mine, so suck it up princess.

Time to climb back up the bank and go and sulk in the van.

Well done to Mike Poolman (fellow Nomad) knocking me out of the Natural venue cup, another almost but not quite for the big dog.  Too many seconds and thirds in the last year, some wins but not enough. Sorry to the lads in my team bad day let them down.  

Even the Shutler had struggled, Ben took a quid off me.  Pete Aspen three chubb in last hour wins section; and poor old Pez try as he might and after several reweighs I'm told couldn't make his two gudgeon register so he was given 0.005 grams

Well done to my team mate Dave Burns winning his section.  At least this section got more than we did up on the shallows.

Even in form Dave Docs the river master struggled here, as the favoured C section nearer the town also struggled. To be honest I love rivers but today was grind and I don't care if I see Chippenham again for some time.  And I had no breakfast!!!!!

Team Honours saw a shake up as the in form teams, like my own Nomads struggled. Well done to Upavon (Carls bombardment and subsequent 6 ounce Chubb) backing up good results from Dave Griff and Bri Parsons.

I felt for Kev East the draw venue had let him down, nature had conspired to fill the river with muddy flood water, and through no fault of his weights were low.

Still once again the banter was good, it was well organised efficient and slick.  Despite my disaster I look forward to the next match with the terrific Army lads.

Open and closed. With a sting in the tail.

Not a lot to say today no Match on Pewsey water, so decided to join a few the lads and fish an open on the Avon at Sutton Benger.  Best part of the day the drive up.  Some lovely Wiltshire scenery, and dawn over Silbury hill is a site to behold.

The River Kennet to the left was full of winter flow and the high water table had formed a natural moat round the hill.  The last of the dirty stop out Barn Owls were off home to roost, to be replace by the first shift of Crows who were filling the valley with their "arghh , arghh" morning chorus.  Just need the day to be warm and cloudless but I think the sun is losing the battle with his brother the cloud master.  It was beginning to feel like I was stuck inside a Tupperware container, the skys opaqueness was depressingly confining.

Wasn't really up for it today.  Perhaps should have stayed home and had a break, but lifes too short to miss an opportunity to fishing.  Just wish my stomach would settle.  Reflux and rumbling like a sleepy volcano. I drove on to the draw at Bengers Weir.

Fancied it  it looked good.  One problem the peg I wanted - the weir.  Wasn't in the draw.  Never mind paid my money and tried to ignore the rising discomfort in the bowel area.

One last look at the wonderful weir swim and then it was a troop of down stream to our pegs.

I wonder what the rules are on drawing your peg and then not fishing it.  Just stay next to the weir and run a float through.  It doesn't show on the pic, but there was a massive shoal of fish which made the water look like one of those places where fish gather to be hand fed.

It was around 12 feet square  and a couple of feet deep.  It must have had around 2 thousand fish.  The worrying thing was I flicked the bronze maggot in and expected the water to erupt.  However the bit drifted past a thousand possible takers and away.  It was almost as if the fish were catatonic.

Surely, its too early to shoal up for spawning?   I have known it before, where fish switch off the feed, because they have sex on their mind.

On arrival at my swim I am informed its a good summer swim but is carrying too much water at the moment.  In addition it was a bit of a washing machine swim.  You know the so called perfect crabtree swim where there will be huge fish in the backwash.  In fact as Dave George once said "rubbish" that type of swim is where all the snags swirl and tag your kit.

The river boiled as angrily as my increasingly temperamental stomach.  Finding an area that didn't have a tree, dead sheep, weed bed, or some other snag blocking progress; was interesting.  The match begins with me losing my bait dropper to snag one.  Followed this with the realisation that any ground bait no matter how heavy came back toward my feet and swirled and vortexed back up stream to my left before starting on the spin cycle in front of me again.

I did try, but to be honest my heart was not in it.  Especially when the guy below me lobbed his feeder to the reeds on the far bank. Within three minutes of the start he had two large Perch.  Probably 3 lb in the bag 5 minutes gone.  It was one and a half hours before my first bite.  The river had come up a few inches around my feet I had put away the pole and was fishing a 15 foot rod and a 8 bb Drake stick over depth, and holding back hard.  In 15 minutes I caught a 9 ounce Chubb, and three 6 oz Roach, followed by a 6 ounce Perch.  Then a Bleak

Does a bear shit in the woods, well this one had too.  And quick.  A hot sweat ensued as nature called on me and I searched frantically for some toilet paper in the bag.  None there, but did find some Dettol anti bacterial wipes that I normally clean the pole at the end of the match.

A quickly scratch a hole behind a log and panicking at the impending movement. I got my kit off.  Thank god for winter days and the lack of spectators but oh the relief.  That is until I applied the Dettol wipes, Oh my lord, not funny. Sting, well you get the picture.

Covered up and buried the evidence and went back to the fishing.  One more bleak.  But looking down stream the guy below me was filling in with a bucket load of mashed bread like an episode of Matt Hayes Total fishing.  Below him the guy was swinging in 6 ounce fish after six ounce fish.

The bread attack was working for the guy below me as quality Roach after Roach was hooked.  Thank fully not all landed.

However the bell for round two of gastro enteritis vs Williams, was rung.  I decided enough was enough.  I wasn't going to win, there's no points up for grabs so time to be prudent and head home.  I told Spanners I had about 1 lb 10 ounces but it may have been 2 lb.  And although ok not enough to win.  In fact after a few hurried goodbyes and see you next weeks. I went home. I have no idea who won, but the guy below me must have been in with a shout.  See you all on the next blog.

Pewsey Lake.. I Love the sound of breaking glass

Well not quite the sound of breaking glass but the ice breakers were required for the penultimate Championship lake match.  After a week of black Ice and snow the lake was not welcoming and I would have rather been on a river.  Still good to be fishing as yet another busy week at work had left me reasonably stressed to the point where my boss said, " time for some time on the bank Gary".  The day got off to a bad start as I woke to a streaming nosebleed which took over 20 minutes to stop and I got blood on my Pewsey shirt, as it started again as I drove away from home.

But underway, Hugh Cornwall (Stranglers) was belting out " No more Heroes" and Jean-Jacques Brunels pumping bass line lifted the spirits on this cold winters morning.  Mornings are getting lighter as well and a few crocus and snowdrops are starting to poke through.

Disappointed to stand in a puddle and find I had a leak in my half boots, worn today as I had found a hole in my "hot foot" wellies last week. Its weird I am particularly acquisitive when it comes to fishing gear in fact some say an out and out tackle tart.  I have back ups for back ups when it comes to tackle but always overlook those key items that keep us warm and dry.  You know what its like your sat there not catching and cold creeps up and around your core; but if you have the right gear to  keep the hounds of misery from your door, even not catching is bearable.

Had a feeling many of the lads were just going through the motion today.  Yet I could be wrong.  It seems that most like me had or almost thrown the towel in on the Joint Lake / Canal Championship.  Yet a couple who have sneaked up in the last few weeks like an extra cunning Reynard.

Simon leads the way in the lake only Championship with 68 points and Brian Shutler 2nd with 66, me in third with 61.  So once again needed the dynamic duo to have a bad day in fact me to win them to blank.  Golden peg stands at £98 before today's draw so could be interesting .  No doubt I will draw in section 1 as I have done all year, never get in the Carpy end.  Though thinking about it I will today and will be unable to fish it properly due to ice.  Sods law.

So I leave the Commodores in the van and walk the lake lane trying to get their song " Shes a Brick House" out of my head " shes mighty mighty letting it all hang out". I felt I should have a Afro and be strutting like Shaft, but although I can move, the rhythm is starting to desert my old bones.

Two or three no shows at the draw, hardly surprising considering the thick Ice and the cold.  Still enough for 5 in section one and 6 in section 2.

There is a new guy today in fact hes not that new, welcome to Mark Russ former Pewsey superstar by all accounts.  Mark draws number 9 as golden peg .  Its thrown back in the hat and the draw begins, Martin draws the GP and Mark Russ the end peg 14.  Me, well after everyone else I was left with 10 and with Brian Shutler on 11 it's a carbon copy of the last match. Especially as Simon had drawn 4 again.

We set about the task of ice breaking.  Tensions were high as some instead of breaking it up small and netting it out , some had left big sections which just kept moving back and forth in the wind.  I cleared mine at least 3 times and Brian was the same. It left a bitter taste.

 The match got underway 15 minutes late after we had all broke the ice. Then the wait began as we all tried desperately to get a bite.  It wasn't going to take much to win today.

Two hours in, and Simon had a fish about a third of an ounce on peg 4. The new boy Mark had 6 or 7 fish for as many ounces on the other end peg. Neil had one tiny one; as did Ian on the flier (outlet pipe) peg.  The rest of us hadn't even had a bite.

Three and a half hours and the only change was Mark had a few more, as did Neil and Simon had one more. I was walking the bank to warm up and have a pee. I found my flask and gratefully downed hot sweet tea.  Tales of woe up and down the bank as thoughts turned to jacking it in.  I would have gone myself if not for the fact I had to do the sheet and the pay out at the end.

So instead of that I decided to run the songbook in my head and regale my fellow blanker's; with the hopeful tunes like "Summertime, and the living is easy, fish are jumping and the cotton is high.  Your daddy is rich and your ma is good looking, so hush little baby please don't cry"

The lads didn't seem as happy with my entertainment as I thought they would.

Four hours gone and the continually moving ice was not helping. Still no bites for most of us although Chris had chipped in with an 1.5 ounce Perch. With Brian getting a bite at least on the waggler; I decided with 30 minutes to go I put down the pole and got out the waggler too.

I had a small lift bite but missed it and another adjustment to single pinkie and shallow off to 2 feet. The reliable soundtrack from babysitting nights came to mind, Walt Disney's  - Frozen.  So I sang along as I upped the feed rate

Let it go, let it go
Can’t hold it back anymore
Let it go, let it go

Pinging as much bait as I could I showered the far side in loose offerings.

 for the first time in forever
At least I've got a chance.

Just as the irritating soundtrack started to get to me.  The Ice pack came toward me leaving a gap behind it over the far margin. I lobbed the waggler into the sun filled gap between bank and ice and it slid away, straight away. I didn't need to strike it was already under the ice and my waggler was stuck in the edge of the ice sheet.  Bugger. Don't panic just keep gentle pressure on.  Immediately thoughts of the light tackle caused concern I was on 1.5 lb Bayer Perlon main line straight through to a Kamasan B510 size 20. So couldn't bully.

Stalemate and stuck in the ice.  I couldn't pull it through the ice. So i decided to let the bail arm off and let the line loose but through my fingers in the hope that the fish would swim away from the ice and off to the right.  Where I had a chance of knit one pearl two, through the other ice and to the near bank.

Brian was looking irritated and concerned, and he was definitely wishing me to lose the fish. Abuse of spawny git rang in my ears, as everyone including me thought I had hooked into a carp.  Amazingly it got worse.  Some how the line had looped around the back and underneath the reel spool. An incredible impossible to untangle birds nest.  Even if I could get it past the ice I couldn't reel in. Brian to my right smiled at my misfortune as did Martin on my left.

So I unscrewed the spool, bit through the line and put the fish connected line in my mouth. The feeling of the fish trembling against my nashers was intense; as I scrambled one handed for a a pair of scissors to cut away the birds nest.  That done I reunited the left hand and right hand line ends with a double blood knot.

For a heart stopping moment I thought I had lost the fish, but no it was still on.  I turned to Brian and said if I get this in it will be a bloody miracle. He didn't look as if he sympathized.  So with 10 minutes to go and with the fish pulsing under the ice I shoved the tip of my rod under the water and gradually pulled, praying it wouldn't snap. 

The miracle occurred the ice around the float broke and the fish came toward me.  Its not a Carp. Its a Chubb!! for the second week running a lovely Chubb.

Before the fish could realise it was close to the bank I super fast scooped and he was mine.

Overwhelming feelings of joy at not blanking, blanked out that I may have also won the match.  The B510 was dead centre of the top lip and the pinkie was still wriggling.

The abuse flowed from Martin and Co, as to my luck and complete lack of skill.  Brian's face looked like thunder and his general demeanor was one of a Bear with a sore head. He grumbled his misfortune over the last few minutes of the match.  Of how he had blown his attempt on the Lake Championships, as Simon had caught and Brian had blanked.  

Great I thought I need you to blank.  As I drew breath to holler the all out Brian's float dipped and the lucky sod pulled a one and half ounce Roach across the ice pack in front of him - he hadn't blanked after all.

The weigh in begins and Ian decides not to weigh in his Perch and threw it back.  I was aghast thinking it might have challenged Brian's Roach and knocked him back another point.

Chris was glad as he had a pound on with Ian, and didn't think his one Perch was much bigger.

Weigh in complete, Simon's (6 fish for 3 ounces) gave him 8 Points means he is almost unassailable in the Lake Champs with one match to go on the Lake. My 8 points gives me 69 points, and Brian's last minute fish means he gets 5 points instead of zilch and is on 71 points.  

Brian could still catch Si, and if he he blanks (DNW) it is feasible I could pass him too. So with one Lake and one Canal match left its up for grabs on the lake.  The joint Champs is also between the three of us although the best I could do in that is maintain my current third place.

Well done to new boy Mark Russ out fished us all (glad its on weight not qty)  to get a bunch of tiddlers and a 3 ounce goldfish for a total of 1 lb 11.5 ounces.  Neil Pegrum 10 fish for 5 oz is third.

Ian hands over his pound to Chris,

As for the top three, I was happy to take first prize for the win, first in the super pools and the silvers pot. £60 should keep the other half happy.

Neil left and Mark on the right.

Kintbury V Pewsey Away the lads...

A phone call from my mate Atila meant I didn't have to wait around for our 630 rendezvous.  His tom tom had lead him down a dead end and a diversion.  So he called and said go on he would see me in Hungerford high st.

The boys had decided to meet in Hungerford as our normal A 4 route in also had diversions. So Leo led us convoy style  across Hungerford Common and through the beautiful Berkshire village of Kintbury.  We all gathered in the railway station yard and headed to our hosts Captain to pay in.

A biting wind heralded this last day of Jan 2015 and every angler was dressed accordingly.  After the last two weeks disaster and my drop to third in the club championship.  I nearly didn't turn out today thinking a break was due.  However the lure of the K and A with the addition of the River Kennet flowing into it was too much to turn down.  I had enjoyed the corresponding fixture last year although I had struggled to get a weight on the higher number pegs.

Pewsey was looking forward to trying to extend our dominant form over Kintbury.  Last season it was home and away victories; and this season we had won the home match and wanted to do the home and away again.  A good turn out of 34 meant a long walk for someone.  We all wanted the pegs in single figures as they are well known fishy areas. Especially where the Kennet joins the canal (peg 4), a moored barge being a favourite.

By the time I got through the scrum for pegs I had three to choose from and low and behold I had peg 31.  Bloody hell a long walk and not even the end peg. Kintbury had drawn most of the single figure pegs so we had our work cut out to match their weights today.  On the back foot already....

I got to my peg and three guys trudged by me. Puffing and panting.  Leo had 33 and Paul Giddings the end peg master had drawn yet another end peg number 34.  A lovely looking peg with a boat moored nearside.

The water was gin clear and I could see the bottom of my keep net easily, so no inside line at all.  This was not going to be easy.  I was five or six pegs along from where I was last year.  So hopefully not so many trout.  The canal was pulling hard fro right to left, so I opted for 1.0 gram float to go with the flow 4 inches of bottom.  A 2.0 gram flat float to fish over depth 6 inches and hold, and a shallow rig for the far ledge.

Bait well bread seemed the most obvious but for some reason I cant find my bread.  Bloody hell. I know I had it earlier but I just cant find it. One or two of us had brought blood worm and joker, but were informed at the draw it was banned. Bugger it.

The long walk had left us little time to prepare so the 930 start found me not ready.  I cupped in a ball of ground bait and 5 bait droppers of chopped worm and caster and hemp. Ten minutes late I lowered the run through rig in and it dipped at the end of my swim and a roach was swung in. Followed by a Perch and another Roach., one more two ouncer before the elastic pulled back hard and the first of two trout came to the bank.  The bronze maggot was producing well.

Spoke too soon.  A quiet spell of 20 minutes without a bite saw me put in another ball of ground bait and switch to the 2 gram flat float. A couple of minutes holding against the flow saw the float dip and a lovely Roach about a pound + was gingerly brought to the bank.  Gingerly as it was just and just hooked at the side of the mouth.  The look of panic in its face when it saw the landing net made it flip on the surface and catapult the rig toward me which stuck in the peak of my cap.  Gutted at the site of its flash of red fin as it slid through the icy green / blue back into the depths of the flowing canal.

Tackled up again I went another 20 minutes before the next bite another small roach.  So I went long to the far side and immediately struggled to find a gap in the sub surface brambles and detritus of recent storms that had ensured much of the bank side foliage would have a watery grave.

Simply unfishable I decided to come back to the three quarter line. Leo had had a trout and Paul on the end peg was filling it in with worm and had been rewarded with a 3 lb + perch plus two around the 2 lb + mark.. It was clear the rest of us in the section were struggling.  Maybe just maybe I was section default at this stage.

The float dipped and my double pinkie was taken by the obligatory weekly Pike.  This Esox Luscious  was predatory perfection in miniature at around 10 to 12 ounces.

What to do???  I had a pound in the net and others were walking the bank with struggling tales of ounces.  Mike Marsden was going well on punch.  Knew I should have bread.  Chris Rushton had had a skimmer and Leo was netting a few roach.

Bugger go for it what have you to lose.  Its not a club points match.  So i chucked in half a pint of bronze maggot in the bowl and a few pinkie.  As it was flowing well I packed the orange size balls tight and cupped in 5 in a row along to the right end of my swim.

The water coloured slightly and began to fizz as the ground  bait dissolved .  I lowered the flat float in at the left end of my swim and held back.  Straight away a small fish.  Then the elastic whipped out and I a fish bore deeply into the bottom and started away to my right up stream against the flow.  I added sections to the pole to try and turn his head back to me.  Didn't want another rig trashed by the energetic trout or pike or whatever it was.  I was bullying it , which was ridiculous I just wanted the 22 hook to pull so I could get back in over the baited area.  Leo called down, what is it mate.  Trout I think.

As I said it I was gobsmacked to see a large daddy Chubb roll majestically in the clarity of the water.  Suddenly the arse clenched and everything became careful and gentle, and I mean very careful and very gentle.  The thick white rubbery lips gaped wide and gulped in some air.  You could have thrown a golf ball in that mouth this was proper Chubb.  I guided it up stream of my feet and lowered the net out of view about 4 feet down stream.  It rolled worryingly and the hook which was down its gullet sprang forward and latched just inside the lips.  I was going to have one go at this or lose it.

Suddenly my shallow small fish landing net seemed wholly inadequate. The black tail of the Chubb entered the net then its midrift and it realised I was springing the trap.  It started to bolt and I lifted one angry Chubb bucked and flipped in the net the rig (hook straightened) sprang free into a perfect birds nest and I quickly  shipped in the landing net. A lovely Chubb of just over three I thought disgorged around a hundred bronze maggots into my lap and lay looking angrily back at me.  That's a four pounder said the guy next to me.  More like three I said I can get my hand around its neck.

I cut off my rig and put the birds nest in the bag.  New rig (duplicate) on, I lowered the rig back over the area I had the chubb, and had another roach. Swung it in and decided to change the bait to double pinkie. The float dipped and lifted and I lifted into a nice skimmer.  And that was it, the last two hours went bite less.  I tried running a stick through , mid depth, well over depth etc etc , but nothing.  Paul on the end had continued to catch so must have the section.  When the all out was called we quickly packed away as the weigh in began. A boat came through and I photographed my catch

Paul was first with cracking Perch and 13 lb + on the end peg.  Then Leo and the Kintbury lad tying on 2 lb 12 oz each.  Then me, the Chubb went 3 lb 4 oz and my total 4 lb 15 oz.  We trudged back on the long walk to hear the results.  When I got back to the van I found my bread on the floor by the back door, must have fallen out of the bag.

Kintbury Captain Pete Whaley was totting up the scores and the money.

He had drawn the flyer Peg 4 opposite and done it justice by winning of it.  It wasn't enough though, Pewsey top ten against Kintbury 10 had triumphed 47 lb + to 31 lb.  Yes a team win and the double home and away again.  In reverse order the sections were called and the three sections had winners all Pewsey Mike Marsden with a cracking bag of bread punch roach.  James Carty and yours truly - yes back in the money.  Then the top three. Pete first (Middle) and two Pewsey boys Marc Kay 3rd  (left) and Paul Giddings right in second place.  

Back on the Lake next week.