Yesterday we'd taken a walk with the dog and visited the fishery at the next weir and lock complex upstream. The weir at that place is a long steep one that takes the river away at right angles to the navigation channel and dumps it in a deep sluggish pool where the water swirls about in large eddy currents before picking up speed and exiting across some very interesting twisty shallows. The shallows looked most barbelicious, but the weir pool interested me most, as it looked so bleak...
As I said, strange days, indeed...
I would venture there in the evening, I'd decided, and there catch my fill, but until then I would concern myself with fishing corn in the shallow fast water above the Anchor Meadow weir, for a barbel. Just to restore my sanity, I had at least give them a try.
I put out the two rods still set up for the barbel fishing from the night before, one in the fastest water and one at the crease between it and the near bank slack water, and as it was a summers day with high sun, sat back to await probably nothing. I didn't have to wait long for nothing to happen either as I received a proper barbel type slam around of the rod top within ten minutes and connected to what felt very much like one. And it was, but small and decidedly cute ~
This was species number ten for the holiday so far ~
Roach, chub, perch, gudgeon, dace, bream, tench, silver bream, minnow, and now barbel.
A bleak would be nice, but another twenty or so barbel of this size would be just as good.
Strange days, as I mentioned.
Of course the barbel did not show again. All the holiday the desired species had shown up and faded back into the shadows and it wasn't as if I'd had any trouble whatsoever in the act of catching fish, per se, I'd been getting thousands of bites and loads of fish, just having no luck sustaining the catching of any one species for long enough to amount to much.
And then I saw the carp in the cut. A twenty pound plus common carp and a smaller mirror gliding around aimlessly and occasionally rooting about. I considered going after them and even laid down patches of sweetcorn to induce them to get their heads down, but they vanished mysteriously before I could cast a line.
I retired from the fray and trawled through the recent fishing rags for red hot bleak fishing advice...
I finally got to the weir around 5 o'clock and proceeded to fish ...
...only it was so very deep and full of perch that I gave up trying in the pool and moved down to a lovely looking swim with all manner of features to interest me. I fished maggots everywhere near and far and caught plenty of dace, chublets and minnows and then cast right across to the far side thirty yards distant where a swift run of water undercut the bank. I had a little silver fish on first cast and in came my first bleak.
Hang on...
That's, MY FIRST BLEAK!!
I should have eaten it on the spot, right there and then, as sushi, to celebrate this immense victory over the vicissitudes of nature, and not tried to catch one more...
But I am the greatest ever angling fool, and I did.
I flogged that crystal water for the next three hours and ground out just one more precious bleak amongst ten challenge points worth of dace and minnows, and even a bonus half pound roach and a dirty great perch, who himself was the obvious culprit of this bleakless saga, before finally conceding the vile defeat.
Two bleak of an ounce or so each does not make four ounces total, no matter which way you cut it.
Humiliated, and disgraced, I surrendered my rod, to a girl...
Luckily for me, all Judy caught was dace and minnows too. This was the first time she'd ever handled a float rod and within no time had mastered it well enough to be able to flick the float right across the water with ease and style. She's a natural, and I keep telling her, but she won't take it seriously.
Then again, I really shouldn't encourage her. The way things are going with this bleak fishing fiasco of mine, I really don't need competition now, do I?
Stranger, and stranger still...
Good choice of 'rag' there, Jeff...
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