So do I pack in? Is it the end? I am that sort of person at times, and I can also be a stubborn Pratt as well. If I decide I don't want to do it I stop and I never do it again, I walk.
To be honest my work with the Pewsey boys in building the club back up is not finished. So put away the wobbly bottom lip and the sulks and go again for another season.
So a gentle season starter at Devizes today. I was going to have another weekend off but the lads were pressing to move on. So gave apologies to the wife, who was not pleased, as I said I wouldn't be fishing today.
The knock up began and I drew under a tree. Not very promising especially as the kayaks started through and the odd boat. A beautiful spring day had brought out everyone from the shadows of a dismal winter. Chris bellowed Mink!!! It was the first shout and I couldn't believe my eyes as I looked up and there was a mink doing the backstroke bold as brass through my swim.
A Kayaker forced it on to the tow path on my right, where he ran behind me and back into the canal on my left. He landed on the end of my keep net when he jumped in then leisurely swam to the far bank brambles as fish bulged and bow-waved out of the swim in front of me.
Well that is not good. I had, had big ideas of a good day. Especially, as PG had informed me he had fished the swim recently and had had a bag full of Perch on the choppy. But if I had big ideas the little Jack Russell making his way along the tow path had bigger ideas, he was determined to get the branch home.
Couple of boats came through so across to far side to let the swim settle. Float dipped and the first of three gudgeon, and a Ruffe. The line went dead as the water bulged under the brambles and a Minks nose and eyes broke the surface. Bloody hell don't need a mink around , so a pebble or three and a catapult where pressed into action.
Back onto main line and the float dips and quivers but doesn't go under. Something in me made me lift into it and at first I thought I had hooked a snag as the object was dragged slowly, dully and inexorably into near side edge.
As it neared the edge I saw it old, very old and very black and gnarly prominent tubercles all around its face, I had hooked a very old slab in the stomach. A good 4 lb + I reached and lowered the net at which point it rolled on the hook length and snapped it. The elastic shot back into the top kit and I realised I would have to tackle up again. PGs earlier comments that I was too light and hooks were too small were starting to haunt me.
Did I learn? Did I eck. Only to repeat the whole scenario 20 minutes later. Only this time the belly hooked bream was about 2.5 lb.
They were there but they didn't seem to be having it. I went well over depth and laid on to try and stop the foul hooking; but there were no more bites. After an hour bite less I finally had the far side line going. They were tiny squat fish two to an ounce but at least something was going in the net. However that didn't last either as the swans moved in and hoovered up the baited areas.
So the day dribbled to an end , I was nowhere but had learnt a lot, so not a wasted day. I don't think the big fish were having it today, perhaps getting ready to spawn. All in all I had 33 small fish and the one skimmer. I had lost at least 3 good fish. I really didn't work out why I kept foul hooking. Perhaps I had over fed, or perhaps I should have plumbed around and found a less silty, harder surface where the bait would sit clear and draw more positive reactions? Less finicky.
The tow path traffic was mad as the world end his dog enjoyed the day. Some tasty lycra clad ladies made for a nice distraction and all in all people were pleasant and convivial.
Steve Trevett had one of the best catches of the day, with 5 big Perch, the biggest 2 lb 15 and half ounces. As well as a few other species. Well done Steve.
Shall I go next week? Not sure, going to ease back in slowly I think.
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