Sunday, 26 February 2017

Back in the Bad Lands

Different sort of outing today, went along to Calne and Black lands lake.  A silvers only match arranged by Bryan Jackson.  Just the 12 of us the lake wouldn't hold more.

A lovely deep pond with other facilities, caravaning and camping and a Health club.  On a nice day it would be good , but today the wind is really strong and the trees are moving considerably.  Cold too not the hoped for mild spring day.  Nevertheless a completely new venue for me; and with ground bait banned it would take some working out.

In addition not knowing anything about the water it was going to be suck it and see . So enough of the views lets get on with the draw.

I drew the bench swim peg 2. So short walk and a quick set up found me having a uniform 7 feet at 6 meters and a bush to my left.

Clearly I had underestimated the "silvers" as almost immediately I had trashed 2 rigs and 2 whips.  From unwanted carp.  Unwanted Carp never thought I would say that!!  A quick change to the heavier elastic , I was beginning to regret not having more robust mainline and hook lengths.  I was also regretting having no worm as Bryan Jackson had just landed a a near 3 lb Perch.  Mssrs Shutler and Kay were going great guns , one a chuck.  Also using worm and caster I believe.

The fish were steady but prone to 30 minute spells with no bite.  If I fished the same again I would have more micro pellet (allowed) and definitely more caster and worm.  As it was I would plough on with maggot and expanders.  the fella to my left is whacking 1.5 lb Roach on the whip and I cannot get fish bigger than 4 oz skimmers.

A spell of 4 Crucians got the heart beating before I lost another 6 lb mirror.  Shame Crucians didn't count.  The match slipped away from me, the wind and presentation impossible .  My little Pony Chris Rushton had foul hooked a slab and was trashing rigs on debris.

Nigel Russel was helping out by hooking the same snags as Chris and pulling in Chris snag (with attached Tench)
Now thats a Snag!!

Note Ponys float still attached top center. The match came to an end at the appropriate time as I was getting bored of watching the Russian Trawler (Shutler) and Marquee (Marc Kay) hauling em in.

It was good to catch a few and I would have loved to have caught more.  The Carp were nice but didn't count and did mess up the swim a bit. But nevertheless a nice day watching the float dip.


A stack of lightweight thin skimmers that bodes well for the future of the pond.  Mr Rushton did well you can't deny. Still an end and corner peg you would have expected it.

No bonus slabs for me, I did manage to beat the fellas either side of me but all in all a learning experience.  Well done to Brian Shutler on the win, Bryan Jackson on the Organisation , Marc Kay for 2nd and Pony for third.

Sorry to Bryan his Perch pic didnt come out, but here are the scores.

See you next time




Sunday, 19 February 2017

Lovely Two and half hours

 Just a quick note as the session wasn't very long but it was productive.

Today was technically a spare day.  I was gonna fish the teas of 4 for Leo, but he had a change of heart and fished so a quick walk along the bank and watching the float dip here and there made me want a bit of that.

As I had the kit in the van in case I parked up at Bristows and went the opposite way to the TO4 match and around to the wides and toward Wilcot road.

The session started well with me slipping on a muddy path and twisting my back, but never mind I was soon fishing.  The first 15 minutes was slow with me getting indications but no bite.  A slow pull under and wham , oh no its a twig.  In fact the canal was a horrible brown colour and full of detritus as boats and canoes passed up and down.

After snapping the hook trying to get it out of the twig I tackled up again with a new rig.  The rig settled nicely over one of my baited areas.  It was soon clear that pinkie over licky bread was going to produce.  So I slid in the Dino 0.3 Bream float on the top kit + 2 line and the bites were one a chuck.  Only the boats disturbed the flow of bites.

It was great to see after last week, and the bite less hours, that the mild weather had perked up the fish a bit.  I wonder how the TO4 round the corner were getting on .  The pinkie/bread line died a bit so it was over with the red squat and a nice little skimmer pulled the float confidently under. The elastic stretched pleasingly and fought nicely before the landing net slipped under and bulged like my waistline.

Shame I wasn't fishing in the match I was amassing a few fish here certainly good enough for section points.  My phone bleeped and it was the wife. The screen message was clear, where are you.

I had said I wouldn't be long just a few hours, but who leaves feeding fish?

I decided to play dumb and blame the poor phone signal in Pewsey.  The bites though were slowing down from 2 fish a minute to one fish every couple of minutes.  I was surprised when I looked at the time, I had been fishing for two hours, my how time flies when your catching.

A dog walker letting their dog swim in the canal finished the session abruptly.  Choice words were exchanged with the owner, who played dumb, their dog had never done that before they were really shocked etc etc.

So a hasty pack away two and half hours including a nice stripey.  Home to the wife a 25 minute journey to think up a creditable excuse.

Great day most caught on the 2+2 line.  The digital scales in my bag read 4 lb 2 oz, I imagine good enough for section points and after only 2.5 hours.  Wonder if the swim would have recovered after lassie had swum through?

Sorry its a short blog its hard to type when your wife has slammed your fingers in the door frame!!

See you next week if I am still able to walk.

Monday, 13 February 2017

The final countdown

First fishing trip in my new van Vicky.  Poor old Poppy died and went to the scrapyard in the sky.  Well she didn’t die I killed her.  Was out with the dogs one morning a few weeks ago and was on my way home down a narrow country lane.  There’s a guy coming the other way and he stops in the narrowest part of the lane.  I stopped at the widest point and flashed him on.  He flashes again and so it went for a minute or so.  I put the window down leaned out and gestured him one last time, at which point all the dogs thought it would be a great idea to climb over me and get out of the window.

After blocking and returning excitable hounds to the seating position I was, in a bad mood at this joker’s refusal to see sense and pass at the widest part of the road.  I slammed the van into first then second then third at which point the gear stick snapped off in my hand. Leaving me stuck in second.  I came levelish with the guy and through my open window berated him for being a knob.  Could he not see he had chosen the narrowest part of the lane.  

Submissively he put his arms up and asked me to calm down. Explaining he had run out of fuel and was stuck.  He added do you think you could back up !!!!!  “Does it look as if I can f'in back up you knob”, I said brandishing the gear stick in mid-air.  I pulled my wing mirror in and brushing his I squeezed by.  Driving the few miles home in second gear, I put the 4 way flashers on.  Only to be flashed by all and sundry, and people hollering at me, your four ways are on and can’t you go faster!!!

So to today and driving through the light snow and milky Tupperware sky, Vicky and I motored along to the Rolling Stones, Mick was in full flight “this will be the last time, this could be the last time, maybe the last time but I don’t know” Vicky was cooking and I didn’t want to get my multi-layered clad against the cold body out of her comforting womb effect.  But “let’s get it on” said Marvin Gaye and I climbed out and unloaded multiple tackle.  As said before you need to take the lot to the lake as you just know what you are going to draw.

Talking of draws, maybe this time I would get prime real-estate at the Carpy end, and when Simon offered me the draw hat I danced a jig at pulling 14 a prime peg.  The jig came to an abrupt end though as they all gleefully told me that I was drawing the golden peg and had to put it back in.  Then as you would have guessed I drew a dog of a peg, peg 8 as far as possible from Nirvana.

So suck it up princess and go for the silvers was the plan.  The winds direct in my face, my hooter was soon dripping and bluing up nicely.  Trying to do fine work with glasses steamed up and numb fingers was no fun.  But eventually I was ready.  The swim showed no sign of life at all and I stood to have a pre match adrenaline piss, adrenaline that’s a joke.  After peeling of the layers the wind hit my parts and they shriveled away almost to being a girl, but I did manage to offload, oh the relief.  Relayering I somehow managed to dislodge my glasses reaching forward to stop them falling down the bank I stood on my landing net pole and broke it.  Bugger.  Coupled together an old landing net section with a bank stick and was ready to go.

I always do the same thing at the start of the match, and ensure even if they are small that I have fish in the net and do not blank.  In this case it generally means a little loose feed to the far bank and then ping a waggler in and get a few small Roach.  As in the case of the last match 2 pegs to my right it resulted in 3 big Chubb and a stack of Roach as I stayed on it all day.  But that wasn’t going to happen today.  It wasn’t too long before I realised that not only were there no fish there.  The wind was affecting the accuracy of loose feed and making it difficult to get tight and hold.  I changed to a heavier waggler and fed soft pellet and whilst a 10 oz. Carp rolled against my float and hour of minor alterations up and down and shotting patterns etc led to a further blank.

The wind now was becoming very difficult and I put the waggler down and fished the pole line.  Nothing for 30 minutes, and a change to the whip under the bush to my right.  Still nothing.  I pinged out the method, ate a scotch egg and down hot fruit drinks and watch an immovable tip sitting rigid in the wind.

In short it was time for a walk. Had to get the blood moving, it is surprising how a cold wind affects moral and condition of the body and brain.  A short walk saw most of the guys struggling.  Brian had a small Carp and Chubb.  Mark had 11 small fish. Will had nothing on peg 15; Simon on my golden peg 14 had a few small ones.  Caught on something he found in the bottom of his tackle box, secretive bugger.  Brian Jackson next to him was also catching but struggling.  Neil Pegrum had nothing and Jimmy next to me had had a massive specimen 1 ounce Perch.


So back to purgatory and on my peg 4 hours had passed before I had my first bite under the tree to my right.  It was a Perch.  Well at least I think so it was just about big enough for its first stripe and had eyes bigger than its belly literally.  With 25 minutes to go Jim had had two more tiny Perch.  I was laughing at life in that slightly hysterical way and the wind dropped for the first time.  I grabbed the light waggler and pinged it tight.  With just a dimple showing at least now I could see any movement. Sure enough with 15 minutes to go. It dipped I struck into what I thought was thin air, but it was a roach just so light it didn’t register till I saw it near the bank. In the final ten minutes I had a further 8 fish and just as the bites were picking up the all-out was called on the last Championship match of the season.

Will had ended up with 2 Carp for 12 pound and looked a likely winner of 15.  The ding dong battle between Shutler and Team Russ finished the season as they had started. Close. Me well I think I have done enough for third again in the Championship, (always the bridesmaid, never the bride, still I am an ugly fecker) but must let others do the mathematics.

Scores on the doors. Well sorry about this but cannot get pics from Marks phone to my laptop as my camera battery died.  Needless to say I wasn't last Neils plan to fish for bigguns meant DNW.  I surpassed Jims 3 Perch for 2 oz. With 10 fish for 3.5 ounces. Here's what I did get before battery failure.

First Mark trying to weigh in his privates , shouldn't bother Mark an ounce wont make the difference!



Put the kit away and slipped back into Vicky, put on the vibes and listened to the Animals “We gotta get out of this place” appropriate really on such a cold miserable day.

My net


Sunday, 5 February 2017

Teams of 4 stroll

I am currently taking a deliberate break from fishing.  A blogger friend of mine Ivan Currie recently wrote "Note to Self, don't fish January 2018".  Well remembering how I felt last year after a mediocre Teams of 4 at both Pewsey and Basingstoke, I am a year ahead of you Ivan.

It was that and poor year in fishing that meant me thinking about giving it up altogether.  I've crawled to what looks like 3rd in the Championship, we have won the Wx Winter and and come second in the Wx Summer but all in all fishing had lost its spark.


Most of the fellas are good eggs, there are a few that are smoother than a bucket of phlegm, and some that you hope their next shit is a hedgehog.  But its not just the people the thought of smashing ice to catch an ounce; or looking like an extra from riverdance as you make your way along towpaths that are slippy and muddy.  It must be funny to watch someone like me waist up rigid as hell trying to keep the trolley on the tow path and waist down out doing Michael Flatley in an effort to stay out of the water.

So I have taken a much needed break.  Got stuff done at home built up a mass of brownie points and enjoyed my time by the fire with book and glass of port or cider.  There have been flashes when you think I wish I had gone today , but they have been very very few.  Indeed the thoughts of packing in and just racing and showing my dogs does seem appealing.

But how can you give up a hobby of a lifetime.  So as the glimmers of wanting to be waterside, stirred my juices I took to the towpath with my camera.  As it happens if I had had my phone on or my missus had passed a message that Leo had called I could have fished today.

Turns out Leo had rung late last night as he couldn't fish today, but as I was spark out I didn't get the message till 10 am as I was passed a cup of tea.  When Wendy said , Oh by the way Leo rang last night.  What did he want ? Don't know he didn't say, and you were asleep.

So it was some annoyance that I found Pewsey team of 4 fishing with 3.  Nobody's fault I suppose just circumstance.  Still back to the canal. In a way I was sort of glad, it was bloody cold and people were scraping amoebas, tiny fish four to a pound.  Only Gerry Blunt of Browning Andover had anything decent it seemed he had an 8 ounce Perch and a four ounce Roach.

Couldn't tell you the result but it seemed to me on questioning most Anglers, I calculated Thatchers were leading the way with Garbolino BV and Pewsey (one man down) pushing for second.

The rest of the blog is a selection of Pics from today that hopefully show the tough conditions , sorry if I missed you out.

Starting with the individual leader in the competition John Dewberry, and ending in a personal photo favourite.