My Babies

Look, my babies are growing up :-)

They'll be out into the wide world very soon and hopefully one or two will be back to lay their own spawn in a year or two.

One day I found a big book buried deep in the ground, I opened it but all the pages were blank. Then to my surprise, it started writing itself........

This is the opening to the Bachelorette video by that beautiful, creative genius Bjork and it came to mind the other day when I was reading through some of my old diaries. I've kept angling diaries for many years. I've been writing them in long hand since 1979 and for several years before that I kept a running total of the fish I'd caught, one year as a youngster I even noted each species in a different coloured felt tip. They are full of my memories and are as important to me as the masses of old photo's that fill boxes and albums or, more latterly, on my hard drive.

I don't think that keeping a fishing diary is unusual my only surprise is that some people don't keep a record of their catches. None of us has an infallible memory and I was amazed at the number of incidents I had either forgotten or had filed under the wrong year or river.

Some of the books are particularly tatty due to them accompanying me to and from the water stuffed into my over-full tackle bag. These though contain many of the sharper memories as I would write them in 'real time' and the mood of the hour is transmitted through the text. Of course there are plenty of perfunctory entries scrawled by a dejected soul when all has not gone well but that is countered by the pre-season optimism, the goals and challenges set or achieved as well as those great days when the excitement leaps from the page.

The other day Neil and I were excitedly discussing our fast approaching French trip and I said "It's just empty pages in my diary at the moment". I'm looking forward to the words to start writing themselves.

Helping Hand

We've still not been to pick up the hedgehog, she's enjoying a bit of a lie in as the weather is expected to turn cold over the next week or so. But, in the mean time, we've been doing our bit to give some of the local wildlife a helping hand.

Since making a garden pond the local frogs have found it a place to lay spawn, not much, but I always feel a weird sort of 'parental responsibility' for any tadpoles that emerge and have been lacking in that responsibility over the last couple of years as the fish have made short work of the little wrigglers. You cannot blame the fish, all fish love tadpoles and I am sure that they gain great nourishment from them but the humble frog is becoming something of a rarity nowadays so this year I decided to get more involved. It is, of course, against the law to take frog spawn or to interfere with it but hey, sue me, I am doing this for the good of the species and not just dumping some in a jam jar to face an uncertain future.

We bought a small tank with a filter etc, filled it with pond water and placed a small dollop of the spawn in it. Within no time at all the tadpoles were moving about and hatching. Once out of their egg they digest the spawn and do very little for several days but soon, very soon in their case, there is movement and their heads form into that classic tadpole shape and the fins grow around the tail. Its years since I watched the development of juvenile frogs and the magic is as strong now as when I was a kid and we had some in school or at home.

Within a week our taddies had grown incredibly quickly seeming to double in weight day by day, when compared to those that were developing naturally in the weed at the edge of the pond, they had become monsters due no doubt to the warmer conditions and the regular meals of goldfish flake.

So there we have it, a bunch of strong, healthy tadpoles that have avoided the ravishes of greedy carp. Over the next week or two their little legs will develop then their tales will shrink until you have that most endearing of creatures, a frog in miniature. During their latter stages of development they will be returned to the pond where they will spread out and take their chances in the world and hopefully, in a year or two, we shall see more adults return and the process will continue.

Whilst I'm 'helping' the creatures of the world, here's one that we can all do but so many seem oblivious to it. Bumble bees, those great big, hairy beasties that buzz loudly and get stuck in my porch with monotonous regularity. At this time of the year they are emerging from their winter sleep to do what the birds and bees do best, the trouble is that due to their being cold blooded, the bumble bee regularly runs out of energy and becomes vulnerable, even die if it cannot get sustenance which is a shame.

Bumble bees are harmless and have no sting, sure they will buzz aggressively if you pick them up but that is all they can do. So, if you find one trapped in your house don't kill it, if it has plenty of energy then let it out of the window, pick it up if you have to. Trust me, this is not and April Fool, they have no sting (Google it if you don't believe me).

If you find one that is on the ground and is obviously lacking energy - again, don't stand on the poor thing, rescue it. I found one yesterday and simply put it onto the garden table (there was precious little sunlight yesterday) and gave it some food in the shape of a dollop of honey. Have a look at the picture, as soon as it found the honey its proboscis dipped in and it drank the lot! Suitable refreshed, another bee was saved and it is now pollenating the plants of Herefordshire, now isn't that better than squashing them?

Hot and Cold

The few trips I've made to my syndicate lake have been either spectacular or fishless which suits me just fine. I'd hate to find fish queueing up for the bait each time I cast and I'd struggle were it to be too difficult with many blanks. I was not therefore, too surprised that it refused to play ball on my latest venture.

I arrived in glorious sunshine and headed for a spot in which I've had success before and where I saw fish just the other day. It is an easy call, an area where fish bask during the day and where any fish following the wind or seeking out the change in water temperature in the morning or evening will have to cruise through, in sort, the ideal ambush point. It's a tight swim so I fished just the two rods and dropped one short for cruisers whilst the other went right across for the baskers - what could possibly go wrong?

Come early evening and the temperature dropped with an audible clang! The cloudless sky was a riot of stars with the new moon, Venus and Jupiter making a row of beacons, brighter than all around them. I spent ages just staring up until I felt giddy and began to shiver with the cold. I was in my sleeping bag very early and lost in a world of night noises most of which the dog insisted on investigating.

Just as I drifted into the darkness I was rudely shocked by a strident bleep from the alarm. I'm not yet 'in tune' with my Delkims so every noise they make has me leaping into action, familiarity will one day allow some interpretation but not last night and I sat bolt upright whilst the dog flew out of the open door and went to action stations, standing next to the rods in anticipation.

I gave him the order to stand down and relaxed once more only for a repeat performance; I swear that fish know when you are at your most vulnerable either dropping off, drinking coffee or having a pee!

They got bored with teasing me and apart from a small carp beating the surface with its tail, the night belonged to owls whilst the dawn was taken over by the ducks and a couple of noisy Canada Geese.

The night was really cold and I was glad to get up the bank and sit in the sun where it became extremely hot - hot and cold, this place in a nut shell. I gave it until mid afternoon and decided that it was still early in the year and I have the whole summer (and those lovely warm nights) to go camping, so I packed up and left, fishless yes, but satisfied and relaxed.

Another one enters the fold

High pressure and low, crystal clear water with the river being described as 'hit and miss' at best. Not my favourite end of season conditions and I was under some pressure to get a result as I had a little boy coming with a view to catching his first barbel. I say 'little boy', Richard is actually in his 40's, well over six feet tall and has size 15 feet! But when it comes to enthusiasm and just plain old excitement he's on a par with a ten year old on Christmas Eve :-) He's been constantly emailing me with hundreds of questions for about three months, each one seeing him bubbling with nervous anticipation so failure was not an option.

On Sunday afternoon in glorious Spring sunshine, Neil and I set off for the river to get the feel of it before Richard's arrival. I had two or three swims in mind but, as so often happens when you turn up at the river, others had similar ideas and although my chosen spot wasn't occupied there were people nearby. I figured that if I dropped in there and caught, there'd be a queue to fish it next morning. Plan B was put into action and I headed for an out of the way spot that, due to winter conditions, wouldn't have seen any action for several months.

Neil fished downstream, me at the head of the pool and we set about searching for fish. The sun dropped below the tree line and took with it the warmth, it got very cold but, as the light faded Neil was into a barbel - excellent, there were fish here to be caught. I ended the session with a decent chub and it was off to the pub for a swift one and an early night.

I have no doubt the Richard will cover his day in full on his own excellent blog (see the link to Richard's slant on life on my blog page), so I will let him express his emotional journey but suffice to say the day went about as well as can be expected. A barbel after 30 or 40 minutes certainly took the pressure off and with fish coming slowly but spread throughout the day, it was near perfect. Being present when somebody catches their first barbel is always a privilege and when that person has been on tenterhooks for several months the relief was palpable.

The moment of the day came after we had rested the swim for an hour or so. A guy was 'gardening' on the far bank, trimming every willow shoot that may interrupt the back-cast of his salmon anglers, so we had a dabble elsewhere in an attempt to get a grayling. That attempt failed unfortunately but I did tell Richard that resting a swim will get the fish feeding on all the scraps left behind and can build their confidence. We returned to our positions, Richard cast, sat down and immediately struck into another hard fighting barbel. Looking shocked and totally dumbstruck at the speed of events he just sat there, rod bent, staring at me with his eyes as wide as saucers and his mouth open in a sort 'O'. I laughed and said something supportive like 'don't just sit there get the bloody thing away from those rocks' and he shook himself back in control and landed the fish after a good scrap. I would love to have caught that image on film. Each of the three fish Richard landed was followed by a sit down and a spot of head shaking, I gathered he was having a good time.

I decided to have a dabble later in the day and soon took a barbel and lost another behind a rock. I sat there just savouring the moment, I felt truly privileged to have shared the day and to have watched someone take the first step to becoming a barbel angler. I sat back in my chair and thought "Y'know, one more barbel will do me for the season". I didn't really want to go out on a lost fish and just one more would bring my day to a perfect conclusion, then the rod leaned forward and the clutch began to give line......

Back on the trot

With the weather so unseasonably warm I just had to get out and enjoy the sunshine for a few hours. I bought a couple of pints of maggots and headed for the Lugg, travelling light taking just a trotting rod and the bare essentials of tackle. The rod is a slightly heavier one than I used on the chalk streams as I was fishing in tighter swims and had an outside chance of hooking a barbel. I have two bottom sections for it and opted for the 11' version.

After a long walk I stopped in a favourite chub swim, the current picks up off a bend and runs alongside a steep bank before cutting past an overhanging bush then hits the opposite bank beneath yet more foliage. It is a classic chub spot and has never failed to give me a fish or two.

I trickled maggots in as I tackled up, a 3 x AAA float, 5lb fluoro hooklink and a size 16 Guru QM1 hook - my secret weapon, sharp and devilishly designed to stick into a fish and stay there. They work a treat but, being barbless, they often fall out in the net once the fish is landed.

It took about twenty minutes to get a bite, just as I held back at the tail of the swim, a chub okay, not a monster at only 2 pounds or so but a good scrap in the fast water. Nothing else happened so I moved on to the next swim and the next and so on, seeking out action but, I presume due to the high sun and clear water, nothing came my way apart from a few sucked maggots - probably through the attention of minnows. I did however, meet several mad women walking their dogs, they were all cheerful enough but well, let's say a little eccentric in their ways. Its occasions like this when I like fishing with a partner as it gives me someone to pass them on to but today I had to smile politely whilst being introduced to their pampered pooches.

I ended up where I'd started, feeling tired and with an aching back but I was determined to give it a little longer. I soon had another small chub then something that came in like a dog on a lead to begin with but then woke up and went berserk, it was a brown trout of about two and a half pounds, a bit of a surprise really. The last fish was a slightly better chub of around three and a half pounds, again not a monster but great fun on a light rod and a bit hairy with so many snags nearby.

Happy with my modest haul I left as the sun was thinking about setting and when, I am certain, the better fish would have moved in to feed but I know when I've had enough and there is always tomorrow.

Almost there

We may not be quite there yet but a sure sign that Spring is almost upon us is the sound of frogs around the pond at night and a discovery that never ceases the thrill in the morning.