Answers, answers, bloody answers...

It's that time of the year when a coarse angler reflects upon the season past, what was achieved, what was learned and what went wrong. It's best to start with what went wrong I think, because with fishing more goes wrong than right in the normal run of things

Everything, but the bubbles...

It is now Tuesday the sixteenth of June, the glorious 16th, the day of days, the day when any self respecting coarse angler must go fishing for tench

I went to the sea, to see the sea, and what did I see?

Over the weekend I went out on a photography camping field trip with the photo group that meets at the gallery once a month; the chosen spot was coastal, and that for me means only the one thing, and it's certainly not the art of fill-in flash but the art of filling freezers with bass

What Price Carp?

I don't really fish for carp anymore. I hook them from time to time; I had three in a row whilst looking for chub on the middle reaches of the Warks Avon, all safely landed powerful though they were in that strong deep current

Dastardly and Muttley go Fishing...

The dawn session up the canal was not quite enough for my needs, I had an itch to scratch and the whole evening to myself so I went back out intending to do a bit of lightweight roaming with one float rod, a landing net and some bait and get Muttley exercised into the bargain

Five AM

Dawn was clear, cloudless and cool, and because the day would be another scorching hot one, I thought I'd give the canal a try on a very early start, hoping that the roach could be relocated and perhaps even caught. I was out of the house by first light

Day ticket pot luck

Yesterday dawned clear and bright and I had it in my head to make the most of the day by heading North with Judy, jumping ship en route at whatever day ticket water I could find at short notice, and having her go on to the relatives, sparing me the ordeal. It's a bit of a stab in the dark going to a water never fished before