Friday, 22 March 2013
Thursday, 21 March 2013
For my third education in pole fishing method, style and etiquette, the venue was once again Grassy Bend on the Oxford Canal. Norman seemed inspired by our last outing there and couldn't wait to get back, however I'm more circumspect when it comes to 'that place' believing there aren't any fish there at all for most of the time and the ones we caught that day, and all those I've ever caught previously, were mere tourists on a day excursion eager to see the remarkable array of pylons it boasts.
Monday, 18 March 2013
Grassy Bend this time around and for me, a second crack at mastering Norman's loaned pole. It felt warm as I stepped out the house when he advised me that contrary to earlier reports about mild weather persisting, now it was set to rain. I fetched my brolly just in case and it was a good move because within minutes of setting up the predicted began to fall.
Friday, 15 March 2013
Another shot at the urban Coventry Canal on the cards should weather conditions allow, instead of borrowing a pole this time around I decided to fish my trusted methods to see if they worked as well in clear water as they do in the coloured water I'm used to.
I went up the shop to buy bread early morning when I saw the canal capped with an inch thick layer and believed we'd not get to fish at all without an ice breaker, but on arrival Norman's worst fears were confirmed... we had cat instead of thick ice to contend with because of the slight difference in temperature between inner and outer city. He'd already mentioned that thick ice would be a good thing but should cat ice form instead it might kill sport stone dead.
Monday, 11 March 2013
Our 'Season Horribilis' is very nearly over. Three days to go. One last crack at roach I think, and then it's curtains drawn on a winter best remembered as one forgotten.
I'll be glad to see the scrawny back of it and embrace the plump-breasted promise of a lush and bountiful summer to come. Silver bream and silver-gilt clouds, then gilt-bronze tench, carp, crucian and rudd on evenings becalmed flecked with bubble and sud.
Seems an ice age since I felt it proper to fish commando in shorts... Let's just hope there's no more where 'that' came from to spoil things...
Sunday, 10 March 2013
The best dace fishing the Midlands has to offer had all the appearance of health and vigour and surely must have been a far better choice today than the Thames (where I was supposed to be...) could ever be with all that water that fell in the catchment Thursday not racing through quite yet...
On a good day it's a bite a chuck. On a fabulous day it's a bite before the feeder plunges 3 feet down to fourteen foot depths or float fishing you'll shorten up progressively to a two foot drop and I kid you not — 30 bites a chuck. But when it's bad.... As Danny Everitt has more less said and he's good reason to say it 'cause he's a man who through experience knows...
Wednesday, 6 March 2013
An army of men stationed in military order wielding a bristling forest of sticks that reach from towpath to far shelf gradually disappearing into the hazy distance. A more natural mental conflation of classic venue and classic technique is hard to imagine and what anyone would believe the ideal picture of such a competition to be. Think canal — think pole...
The long arm of the lore.
Monday, 4 March 2013
I really thought the lean times were over when I first caught a glimpse on my way down the alley back of Lucy's Mill. The lovely jade colour that calls forth memories of times when any fool could have caught and the ever hopeful roach angler had red letter days, today the river looked just right for another.
Sunday, 3 March 2013
Friday evening I met up with local angler, Norman (AKA Reggy Perrin) a man who knows a thing or two about the inner city Coventry Canal. Intimate with those reaches from the terminal basin in the city and out past Courtaulds, his knowledge of what was once one of the country's finest match fisheries is nothing short of encyclopedic