As a avid angler I sometimes forget that weekends are not just for fishing and that my beloved other half might like to do something on Sunday other than wait at home for me to return stinking like a fish wives apron.
So rather than spending Sunday morning into afternoon selfishly disappearing I offered to spend the day with Jacky, though an early morning should give me enough time to nip to the closest bit of river for a couple of hours fishing and still be back before 10am. That's what I said to her before she gave me that look we all know so well. You know the one that says I'll believe that when I see it!
When I arrived as always before entering a field I always have a good check to see what cloven footed beast may be residing in it before I enter. If anyone is interested in my reasons why message me and if enough are interested I may do a blog on my reasons why. With the coast clear I made my way across the field towards what I suspected would be a rather weedy upper Avon.
To say there was a lot of weed would be and understatement of the century, as it was practically bulging out of the water in places. I don't know whether its due to the cold winter but the weed seems worse than ever on the Avon. I did find one reasonably clear hole that I know usually holds a few chub. But throwing a ledger bait into the unknown would ultimately find a weedy bottom, so I instead opted to set up a chubber float and run a small bit of flake around and in between the patches of weed.
It worked a treat and second run through the float sinks and the rod bends. A fish almost first cast from a clear summer river and it made it to the net without any major hassle. It was all going a bit too well...
With the well behaved chub unhooked and put back in the net lying in a small pool of water water behind the reeds I got the camera ready for a little bloggy piccy. Taking pictures of myself is still a skill I am working on and as I am sure we all know it aint an easy task. With the camera on a higher bit of bank on my trusted mini tripod I was ready to pick up the calm occupant of the net. It turned out to be rather comical as every time I picked up the slippery chub it would stay perfectly still until my camera began to bleep as the auto timer counted down where upon Mr chavin would flip just as the camera went off. Giving me a funny film reel leading up to the one one decent shot I got.
I knew full and well that this would be a one fish deal and it turned out exactly that way, any chub that were shoaled with that one would have slunk under the weed never to be seen until the evening after seeing it's pal fall foul to that crude trick. A change of bait to a lob worm found me a couple of small perch but nothing dared venture out after a pike swirled after the last perch.
I have to say that sometimes I find it more satisfying to go and catch one fish in almost improbable situations rather than baggin loads in perfectly plausible situations.
When I arrived home with five minutes to spare the front door was opened by a shocked Jacky who I honestly believed never thought I'd be back on time.