Brian was otherwise occupied again, so I decided to have a couple of hours Piking on the river. The river was in decent nick and is looking more and more wintery with every visit.
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.
I went for trusty peg 9 which has thrown up a few small Pike this Autumn already and it didn't disappoint. 20 minutes in and I'd banked a couple of Jacks around the 3lb mark. Both fish came close in and it was good fun watching the take happen right in front of my eyes.
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.
I'm always amazed that no British angler has ever to my knowledge, yet filed against a club or riparian landowner who does not maintain stagings in a fit state and leaves them to become what I would call, murderously dangerous.
ReplyDeleteI guess they must think that all anglers are fair weather, but come winter, I'm extra careful around stagings as they do become really very hazardous indeed. All that clubs need to do is staple chicken wire over and around the wooden platform and viola, no problem.