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August Ramblings !!


August.2020


Week 1.

Saturday.

No fishing today. Today is spent improving some of the pegs at the sewage works with Shed 7, a chainsaw, a spade, and a sledgehammer. Despite the cacophony we create, the place is packed with fish; we see shoals of dace and chublet and not a soul trying to catch them.

Sunday.

I head to GP in the afternoon. I run a waggler through my swim. I am plagued by minnows, and catch one on every trot. I can`t cope with this again, so I change tactics and bait. My quivertip sits with a slight bend in it, the bend exaggerates greatly and I connect with something very lively. The trout charges around the swim, it splashes a lot as they are prone to doing, but eventually ends up in my net.

I continue legering, and lob my bomb near a far bank willow. The tip jerks violently round and then springs back. That wasn`t a minnow. I reel in and the single maggot is gone. I cast again. It takes a little longer this time but the tip jags round again, and I strike into nothing. The maggot is translucent, and shredded. I put three on the hook this time and cast ( roughly ) to the same spot and I feed maggots over the top of my bomb. A couple of sharp tugs and I quickly lift into a fish – it isn`t a big one, but it`s not a minnow ! The first chublet is joined by many more over the next few hours, none are particularly big, but it`s a pleasure to catch them instead of minnows.

The regular spraying of maggots has attracted plenty of other fish, and the surface boils every time a pouchful goes in. I pick up my float rod again but, try as I might, I can`t catch the `boilers`. I return to the bomb and continue chasing chublet. I finish with seven or eight lb of chublet and a big trout to give me a guesstimated 10 – 12 lb of fish. I go home a happy chappy.

Week 2.

Tuesday.

A day away from work. I shall spend it in the company of Trueman, at Sunrise fishery.

Surprised by the inaccuracy of the weather forecast I race to erect my brolly as the heavens open. I set up from sanctuary of my umbrella. The rain stops as I finish plumbing up, and the first cast is made. Whatever it is that takes my sweetcorn is big, and I am well and truly beaten up before being unceremoniously busted. Not a great start. I tackle up, again.

I have an audience for my second cast – a group of ramblers have stopped to watch. I don`t like to disappoint and within a minute I am battling a large F1. It puts up a spirited fight ( which impresses my audience ) but eventually enters the net.

After that hectic start I catch a selection of silverfish, and a run of small carp, before the wind changes direction and makes it impossible to land my float `on the dancefloor`. I decide to move.

I catch some chunky roach on meat, and some bigger bream, but then the owner turns on the aerator. I could now use a stick float, such is the flow.

I get a shout from Trueman, “ is there anything black in here ? “. He just spotted a crayfish. I recall the tale of the bloke I saw catch one on the middle lake and we laugh. Five minutes later the aerator is turned off, straight after that my float goes under. It feels like I`ve snagged the bottom, I apply some pressure and the hook is freed and there`s something attached. My prize is angrily raising its red claws. My first crayfish, caught on meat, squarely hooked in the mouth. Trueman is in stitches.

Five minutes later I catch another one – I shouldn`t have laughed at the other anglers misfortune. Trueman laughs at mine.

Karma.

He then loses the biggest fish of the day.

He`s not laughing now.

Karma.

Dusk has arrived, and we pack up. We`ve caught bream, skimmers, roach, rudd, a variety of carp, and two crayfish, all on meat, or corn.

Friday.

A quick evening session. A 6 lb barbel. A nice way to end the working week.

The barbel are getting smaller with each one I catch, the next one will probably be a very big gudgeon !

Saturday.

A morning spent at the sewage works. Again, there are shoals of fish everywhere.

Sunday.

With a match cancelled I don`t fish until evening. I go for a barbel, I don`t get one.

Week 3.

Monday.

A day at Sunrise with Trueman.

It`s hot, damn hot, and there`s no breeze, it`s like being back in `Nam.

We opt for the middle pond – it is a little overgrown in places and could do with some TLC. We choose pegs. It`s a slow day. Trueman gets the odd decent skimmer and some roach, I get less skimmers but more roach and a small carp, but this is a game of patience.

I don`t want to play patience. I opt for bread on the surface and within two minutes I have a battle with an 8 lb mirror which, thankfully, I win.

I have `pimped` my bread with a squirt of smokey bacon smelling spray. The `mud pigs` obviously have a liking for land pigs as my bread is rarely in the water for long before it is engulfed. I hook some, I miss some, but it`s fun. I`m not catching big fish, but they all scrap well.

The size of the carp diminishes with every catch so I rest the area and go back onto float fished corn. This proved to be really slow going. I turn and see Trueman tussling with a big fish - he lands it after a prolonged fight, it could be `fish of the day` as it is a lump of 10 lb 10 oz, a virtually scaleless mirror ( I won`t remind him about our wager ). He then collects midges, butterflies, a swan, and several , damselflies on his teeth, such is the smile he wears for the rest of the day.

We catch a load more small carp off the surface before we pack up. A really slow, muggy day`s fishing salvaged by hungry carp.

Friday.

A short evening session with the Doctor. We both fish for barbel. We both blank.

He has a successful hour catching chublet and dace on a stickfloat, casters as bait. I do the same but on a bomb- I catch minnows, a chublet, and I hook a large trout which leaps from the water and busts me, but I avoid a `waterlicking`.

Sunday.

We head upstream, The Doc, The Guv, and I, hoping to strike silver, and maybe a perch.

I catch a chublet on my first run, and then Phoxinus Phoxinus arrive en masse. I can`t get to the bigger fish. I have 30 trots, and I catch 29 minnows and a solitary chublet. I visit The Guv, he is catching some nice dace. The Doc is struggling with the wind in his peg but he is still catching a few. I return to `minnowville` and catch four chublet in successive casts before the minnows find me, again.. I have a go for a perch for an hour or so but the lobworm is getting ragged all over the place by the horde of minnows, enough is enough, I wave the white flag and head home.

Week 4.

Thursday.

A quick barbel session, I was `feeling` it tonight.

So much for the `feeling`, I didn`t get a touch.

Sunday.

Mother Wharfe looked great today, she had risen quickly on Friday and was dropping slowly.

My day was ok, I caught a couple of half-decent trout and a few chublet, and I no longer speak of those chuffing minnows ,but my day didn`t compare to the tale I heard of one lucky gent who caught two pb`s within an hour of each other. He was pretty cagey about where he caught them from and the bait he used, but a 5 lb 8 oz trout, and an 11 lb 10 oz barbel were the intrepid anglers reward. He said he thought the trout was a barbel, and he thought the barbel was a walrus; both fought hard in the extra flow, the barbel made a first run of 40 – 50 yards, and both were awkward to net. Well done, to him.

Week 5.

Saturday.

Shed 7 and I collected a load of timber and concrete posts from those super people at Jewsons who, having had a clearout of their yard, had donated stacks of materiel to be used improving the banks, paths, and pegs, on our Club waters. Thank you, Jewsons !

Sunday.

Nursing a slightly sore back after yesterdays lifting, I chose to travel light – I took a chair, net, rod, mat, bait, and a few bits of tackle. I caught four trout, two of them over 3 lb – the best was 3lb 8 oz, and the smallest fish was over two pounds. Luckily for them, I much prefer salmon. They were all safely returned to the river, as always.

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Wetherby & District Angling Club 

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