Saturday, November 30, 2019

Winter's coming

At last there was a mild, dry afternoon when I had some time free and I felt like catching some pike. The sun was shining, fieldfares cackling, and the late autumn sun casting a warm glow on the world.


Everything looked so good it was a struggle to walk past swims which tempted me, but I was going to stick to my plan and fish 'bankers'. It didn't take long to have three baits positioned  in good spots. The smelt even smelled of cucumber, which I find is a rarity with pre-packed baits. When I bought them from Liverpool fish market back in the dim and distant past they were really strong smelling. A lamprey head end on another rod and a headless bluey on the third. All baits which have produced for me from this place.


So confident was I that I stuck it longer than an hour in the first swim before moving to another which always throws a fish up around sunset. A close in bait has proved good in this spot so I sat well back from the water once the rods alarms set.

Other than a lone tufty, a dozen mallards and a couple of moorhens there were no other waterfowl to be seen. The starlings must have found a new roost as they didn't show up as they had done on earlier visits.

Once the sun had set I felt dew forming on my bunny suit, but it was still keeping me cosy. With my headtorch ready for action it would only be a matter of time before it would need switching on while I unhooked a pike.

Or not.

I hung on until the floats were impossible to see in the dark reflections before admitting defeat. This is becoming a bad habit. Have the pike switched to morning feeding? Are they waiting until night time? Are they sick of deadbaits lying on the bottom? Are they still there? I guess trying again is the only way to find out.


Friday, November 22, 2019

Rod builds

As I still can't get my head round going fishing at the moment here are some rod pictures.

I'm not a fan of painted blanks for a few reasons, mostly the difficulties they pose when doung rebuilds, but also because the finish can be a bit damage prone. That said my blue Axioms have stood up well to plenty of abuse. Harrison's have reduced their colour options to one. Burgundy. Having recently built a set of three P-1s in this finish, and juts completed three Torrixes, both sets whipped with burgundy thread, I must say the overall look is aesthetically pleasing. The light olive differentiating turns of thread also go well with the colour scheme.


Another recently complete build is a pair of P-1s in Ultra Matt finish with tarted up cork handles. I do like the cork cones in front of DPS reel; seats. It's a better look than cork cones in front of DNPS seats to my eye. Although not to my taste the custom butt finish that was requested looks better than I envisaged. It was a bit of a faff to do though!






Wednesday, October 23, 2019

Spread the word!

After a slight hiatus Catch Cult, specialist angling's must read,  is back on track with issue 13 at the print works right now. Feel free to share the ad below on those social media channels I keep well away from!



Tuesday, October 22, 2019

Twearly?

On past experience deadbaiting for pike on this particular water is a struggle before November. I'm pretty sure that if livebaits were allowed pike would snaffle them in October, but they're not and deads can be hard work. However, as I hadn't been fishing since a frustrating eel blank two weeks into August a rare dry afternoon (September felt like it rained every other day and early October little better) when I was free seemed like a good excuse to get the pike rods which I had readied in September an airing. On a whim I swapped one of my eleven footers for the 10lb 3.25lb Torrix I'd written off as an eel rod. As if starting piking too early wasn't bad enough I was putting a new rod curse on the session!


While a few of the taller willows were almost bare most other trees and shrubs were just starting to take on their autumn colours. There were hips galore and the hawthorns loaded with darkening berries. As winter progresses these will disappear down the throats of fieldfares, the first few of which flew high overhead, heard before seen,  shortly after I had settled in to my first swim of the day.

Why I set up in a swim which has yet to present me with a pike despite it's charms of marginal reeds and overhanging branches, plus a far off lily bed, the pads now fragile and sparse, is one of life's mysteries. My initial enthusiasm for the spot didn't last long and I was soon on the move.


I had left home in sunshine and not needing a fleece. In the short time it took me to open the gate to the lake the sky had become overcast and the air cooler. After my second move the sun began to break through the watercolour clouds and lifted my spirits.

Alas it did nothing for the appetite of the pike. My floats remained unmoved except by the gentle ripple from the light north-westerly. It was a grand afternoon to be outdoors. Not that there was much to watch. There weren't many birds on the water or in the bushes. The mallards were mostly keeping their heads down.

A final move to a swim where I could watch the sun set was called for. As the sun went down the clouds began to clear and by the time the only light was from a set sun the air temperature began to fall. A few small fish started topping suggesting that the pike might make an appearance. I wasn't in the mood for clinging on until dark though. As I'd suspected, my first pike session of the winter season had been a resounding blank. One reason I don't fish as often as I used to is that I can't stand not catching these days. Here's hoping it's only down to starting before I should have and not a sign that the rest of the winter months will be equally testing.



Tuesday, July 30, 2019

It's becoming a blur


The weather's been a bit up and down since the 'heatwave' ended, during which my enthusiasm for eel fishing was diminished because it was too hot to think, let alone move. One decent eel does not a summer make, which was why I have been trying to get in more short evening sessions after the slippery customers. Fishing from eight until I've had enough suits me these days, and as I avoid rainy days I can travel sans brolly to keep the weight down. If I didn't keep a diary of sorts it would be difficult to remember the sequence of events when fishing every two or three evenings. Diary's, even when a mere list of fish caught on given dates, keep you straight when recounting tales of good catches. Without them unwitting exaggeration and embellishment are all too easy. Diaries and accurate scales (with correct weighting techniques) might be why I don't catch as many monsters as some people. I suppose there's also a (slim!) chance that I'm just not very good at catching big fish...

After putting two eels in the sling in on session the temptation to fish the same swim again was strong. I managed to resist it and fished a different swim but casting to the same general area on my next outing. I was stocked up with a bulk supply of worms and had taken a couple of deadbaits along to put out on a third (matched) rod.

It took less than an hour to hook the first eel. A bootlace. Ten minutes later a slightly bigger one was landed. Both worm rods, fishing legered and off-bottom rigs, were getting action. The inevitable twitches and pulls. It wasn't until well after ten that I managed to connect with any. Two more small eels. I gave up just before midnight.

A few days later I was back, in another swim close to the same area but covering more open water. The baits had only been in position for ten minutes when the legered worm was taken. One of those absolutely unmissable runs with a 'resistance shy' eel making the baitrunner spin like fury. There was nothing there when I struck. How do they do that? It's easy to think it's small eels that haven't got the hook in their mouth but have hold of the worms. But...


More takes ensued, of varying degrees of aggressiveness. I moved the baits around to cover features and open water. At ten to eleven there was a steady take, after some twitching, to the off-bottom worms fished out in no man's land. This time the strike was successful. The resistance on the end made me ready the net. Sure enough the sling and scales were called for, although the eel wasn't as large as it had first felt. A tiny bootlace which messed up the leger rig just before midnight decide me to call it quits.

Two nights later I arrived to discover that my worm tub was still at home. That meant either giving up or going back for the bait. As conditions felt right and I was feeling keen I made the round trip with plenty of time to get set up before dark. I had a change of scenery and fished a different area. One bootlace just on dark was all I had to show for it despite many plucks and runs and staying on until quarter to one. It was back to the previous swim to cast to different areas a couple of days on.

This time it didn't take long for the worms to get attention. Even so it was almost ten thirty before an eel was landed. Another bootlace to the leger. Using worms does mean lots of attention from small eels. But at the moment the deadbaits I'm using aren't getting any attention. A very occasional single bleep on the Delkim, but that's about it. Perhaps it's the bait selection? A slightly larger bootlace which tangled my rig a few minutes after midnight decided me that it wasn't a big fish night. Well, it seemed like a good enough excuse to leave.

There hasn't been much in the way of wildlife activity on these sessions besides the grown mallard brood. Every so often a reed warbler will fly across the front of my swim or a moorhen will show itself. Dusk usually sees a small group of swallows and martins pay a visit as they head off somewhere to roost. The starling flock grows slowly as it drops in to the same reed patch each evening between eight and nine. On the sultry evenings a brown hawker will call by to feast on the midges hovering over the reed tops as the light fades.


All those bait nibbling bootlaces had diminished my worm supply, so I went for fresh stock yesterday. The forecast after the wet weekend was fairly good. The day had been warm and dry but there was a chance of rain after midnight with more to come midweek. I took the gamble. Swim choice is always difficult. There seems to be a weight of opinion that fishing the same swim time after time for eels only produces diminishing returns. I wonder if they are like pike in that the biggest fish on a spot can often be caught first, followed by the smaller ones? Is it worth going back to swims which have produced small eels initially in the hope bigger ones might move in, or are there small eel swims?

Stuck for ideas I returned to a swim from a few sessions earlier which had given me bootlaces. One which had produced a couple of decent eels for me a couple of years ago. After retying my trace knots - something I always do when using mono main lines - and re-jigging my off bottom rig which got slimed on my previous session I was in action by eight thirty, tucked in the reeds out of the breeze.

Action was slow coming. When I heard a carp crash out I started thinking about an overnighter with the bolt rigs. The first take to the off bottom worms at ten fifteen put an end to that nonsense. Fifteen minutes later there was some drizzle. I checked the sky behind me and it looked like the wet stuff wouldn't last long. It didn't.

While there wasn't much activity I was getting takes to both worm rods. Mostly dithery lifts and falls with one take to the leger which took line. Briefly. There's nothing like a tub full of worms to keep me refreshing the hookbaits. I'm sure fresh worms are more attractive than limp ones. Many times I have had teh bobbin pulled from my fingers as I try to set it after a recast. How eels home in on worms like that I do not know.

It was half past eleven when the legered worm, on a long cast, was picked up and the bobbin twitched up then down. After a second or two it lifted again and the spool spun. I had been poised ready and struck. Mild panic ensued as I couldn't think which side of the rod pod would be best to place the net. I don't like pods but few swims are stick friendly on this water, and many swims are quite tight too. Apod is also quick to set up for short sessions. When I have the room and soft banks it's individualy sticks every time.

The eel was starting to feel less impressive as it got closer. At one point I thought it had shed the hook. However it had done that eel tick of swimming towards me. This can be a real bugger if it happens at the net. I kept winding and reconnected with the fish on the surface. Then the fun of getting it in the net began. The cobbled together 50 incher is a lot easier to use than the old 42 inch job. Eels can still manage to avoid it at the crucial moment though! but not this time.

Another one which had shrunk by almost half between being hooked and netted it was still worth a weigh and a photograph.


The hook had got stuck in the net and the trace cut so it was a few minutes before I had that rig back out. The other two rods had been knocked during the netting procedure owing to the narrow swim. They got repositioned. By the time all was back in order and I was sat down again I heard rain starting to sizzle in the reeds. I checked the sky once more and this time it looked black over Bill's mother's. Time to pack up and get away before I got soaked.

Tuesday, July 16, 2019

Frustrating eels part 946

Every time I have a blank eel session I say it's the last time I'll fish for the bloody creatures. Friday evening was no exception. It seemed like results, if they can be called results, were diminishing with each trip. From a high of non-stop twitches and pulls through lessening takes it had come to complete inactivity. yet the day had been hot and conditions looked good. Same baits as last time, same rigs. I couldn't work it out.There was  one, mournful, single bleep from a Delkim. But I doubt that had anything to do with eels.


Things were so desperate I considered cutting off the eel rigs and tying on some that might catch me c*rp, tench or bream. Whether it was sense, stubbornness or stupidity which prevailed I'm not sure but Saturday saw me picking up a small tub of worms with the intention of using them on Sunday after the Cricket World Cup Final. That plan was kiboshed by the excitement of the match and the ensuing celebrations which left me in no state to do anything much. It would have to be Monday instead.

I'd been watching the moon for a few evenings and something about it was making me think my eel prospects might be improving. Monday had been hot and still. As I settled in to my chosen swim the sky began to turn cloudy as the waxing, almost full, moon rose. I'd barely set the bobbin on the legered worm rod when the one on the off bottom rig signalled action. Fifteen minutes later it was the leger bobbin signalling eely interest. And so things progressed. The inevitable frequent twitches, pulls and even runs from bootlaces when fishing a couple of dendrobenas on the hook. It was going to be another evening of annoyance with nothing to show for it but an empty worm tub.

I listened to the reed and sedge warblers making their raspy calls. Spent a few minutes watching a willow warbler (or was it a chiffchaff) working its way around a willow less than six feet from me. And got an early sense of approaching autumn as starlings gathered before settling with a gently chattering rustle in the reeds opposite me.

At ten to ten I had the surprise of feeling something wriggling on the end of the line when I struck after a series of twitches to the off bottom bait. An eel at last! Not much of an eel, but an eel. It did rather confirm my suspicions that the twitches and pulls were from similarly sized pests.

By now it was gloomy enough to need the head torch to tie up a new hooklength. I had pelnty of wire hooklengths made up but none with the hooks I prefer for worm baits tied to the Kevlar braid I use. It didn't take long to have one attached, baited and back out.

It was ten fifteen when yet another burst of activity came to the off-bottom worms. Slightly more positive twitches which when struck at met solid resistance. This time I reached for the landing net. Having made myself a 50 inch net a couple of summers ago it hadn't been put to the test before. This was the sort of eel I wanted it for and it went in first time. Phew!

With the net secured the scales, sling and camera were sorted out ready. The eel had unhooked itself in the net so there wasn't much wrestling needed to get it in the sling and weighed.

A few snaps taken of it laid alongside rod and scales as it wasn't quite big enough to warrant a selfie and back it went in the swim next door.

There wasn't much chaos to sort out so the rebaited  rig was soon back out. It was only half an hour later when the worms on that rod set off on a steady run. Again the strike was into something solid. This one took two attempts to net and needed the forceps to flick the hook out. The scales were also required, and I almost got the camera back out but didn't.

By now the worm supply was diminished. The remaining worms being small and miserable looking. Five minutes after returning the third eel of the evening the legered worm was taken and my strike met with thin air. But asI wound the rig in I made contact with another wriggling bootlace. This one was unhooked and returned before the last of the worms were used on the hook.

Whether these last few worms weren't appealing or the eels had switched off I'll never know, but the alarms remained silent. I was kicking myself for not bothering to take the deadbait bag out of the freezer. Then again the eels might have ignored deadbaits like they had on the previous session.

Fishing has a habit of keeping you guessing and scratching your head. Was the change in success down to the worms, the conditions, the swim choice? Worms do seem to get an almost instant response and this session proved that twitchy takes aren't always from tiny eels. Then again fish baits have done well for me on this venue in the past. maybe the moon played a part as atmospheric conditions weren't notably different to previous nights. Probably the most likely reason for my change of fortune was my deliberate decision to use a pair of matched rods instead of my mismatched set from my earlier sessions. The odd rod stayed in the quiver. Yes. I'm sure that was it.