Today's approach was going to involve a sprat, wobbled / sink and drawn through the river. The back up was a telescopic rod to thrash a big plug around the river, but it didn't see the light of day as it turned out.
That was it for that peg, so I moved downstream to peg 6. Almost instantly I had a take, but the fish slipped off. It wasn't on long and I was fairly confident it would take again quickly. Straight back in and a fish was on again, but the result was similar. This time the scrap lasted about 15 seconds before the fish got off and I thought I'd buggered up my chance.
It wasn't to be though, as it was third time lucky on my next cast - not sure if it was the same fish being incredibly stupid, or perhaps a different fish. It was just another Jack though - slightly smaller than the earlier two if anything.
That was the end of action. I tried a few other pegs and retraced my earlier steps, but nothing else was doing. I had a bit of a comic moment on peg 2 though. I made the cardinal sin of not giving the staging any respect. Wet, muddy boots coupled with damp, slippery staging = accident in the making. No sooner had I stepped on to it and my feet were in front of my eyes. I went crashing down and landed squarely on my back and was left staring at the cloudy sky - rod still in hand of course!
It was more funny than anything and apart from a small twinge in my back and achy little finger, I was none the worse for wear. A few beers and I won't notice a thing.
As I was packing up a couple of unusual birds (for these parts) dropped past. I can't recall seeing any of these on my fishing travels before:
A pair of black swans. I wasn't sure at the time, as one of them appeared to have white feathers beneath the black when it stretched its wings. However, a bit of research shows that they are supposed to have white flight feathers, so it seems they are the real deal.