Nostalgia and a warning

I was in Taunton today, the town of much of my youth and adult working life. Its normal to feel nostalgia when in your home town I guess but a stroll around French Weir really set the memories flooding back. 

I have written before about my first ever fishing trip there and today I realised how much of it is exactly the same as it was five decades ago. Would you believe that fifty years of floods have passed yet the cabbage patches below the weir and the lily patch above are still there and are still roughly the same size as ever they were. Sadly though, the old Horse Chestnut tree beneath which I made that first cast is now just a large stump. I had to stand 'beneath' it and look over the old fence into the swirling pool.

All that remains is the stump

Chub were everywhere. A fish that didn't appear on my catch list until several years after I'd left Taunton yet now, the shoals of dace were missing replaced by chub, chub and more chub. A few roach and minnows were the only other fish I spotted.. oh, and an umbrella. It sat tight to a concrete ledge, submerged, fully open and doubtless beneath it was a patch of bone dry river bed.

The salmon steps - there were no warning signs in my day :o)

But the nostalgia was heightened by attending Bunny's funeral and not just for the reasons you may think. I had been asked to provide some pictures by his son Phil who especially wanted some with him and his dad together. Fortunately I was able to oblige. But then, as I poured over my vast collection of pictures, I realised that I didn't have a single picture of me and Bunny together. I took it a step further and I cannot recall one of me and lifelong fishing mate Paddy together and only the occasional one of my son Neil and I, taken when Nicky happened to come along. This is wrong.

Now think - when you fish with your mates, how often do you get a shot of both of you together? I'll bet you're like me and its one of you with the camera, the other grinning inanely at some comment made or trying not to look too serious when posing with a fish. Rigging up a timed or remote release shot seems like too much faffing about much of the time and how many of us want someone else posing with our fish?

In the time of the 'selfie' can I suggest that you make the effort to take a few shots of you with those that you care about because if you don't, one of you may regret it.

Bunny 1931 to 2015

When you meet somebody who, without a hint of irony, introduces himself as "Bunny" you know that you are in for an interesting journey. Having travelled that journey for nearly twenty years I can happily state that it has been fun all the way.

The first article I ever wrote was entitled 'A Day With Bunny' and centred on his somewhat calamitous struggle through work and play. It made him a minor celebrity amongst the barbel set and I know that he loved the attention. But the truth was that when you heard about Bunny or better still met him, you instantly accepted him into your heart, he really was a lovely bloke.

Ever the gentleman but with a wicked sense of humour, we used to swap our war stories late into the night as we shared my caravan near the Bristol Avon then later his own on the banks of the Severn. In that time I got to know him very well. It is a shame and a blessing that the only luck he ever had when fishing was 'bad' as it makes for some great anecdotes and the fondest of memories. Better anglers than me tried to coax a specimen fish onto his hook but Bunny would have none of it. It is ironic that he died in the hospice that backs onto the river Tone where, on the opposite bank I once settled him into a 'goer' swim whilst I set off to look elsewhere. Later in the day I suggested that in future he paint his floats, leads and swimfeeders silver and gold as he may get paid by the local council for decorating the trees for Christmas. He just laughed and bemoaned the fact that the trees were too close.

Of all the tales I can relate about Bunny this is my favourite and oddly, it was when he caught a two pound plus roach which was very much against the grain.

We were fishing on Norman's pond, a small pool that was naturally stocked from a brook and contained lots of big roach and the most immaculate looking chub you could ever imagine. Fishing there should then have been like spending a day in Utopia and it was but for one thing - Norman. The owner was a roach expert, he would stand at your shoulder and announce every missed bite to have been a roach as he just 'knew' or had seen it in the murky depths without the aid of Polaroids. The fact that he had never fished made no difference to his knowledge and he insisted on talking at/to you for hour after hour. He was also very fond of his free range chicken and woe betide anybody that upset them during their stay.

The day went well and we both caught a chub and roach including a two pounder each which Norman insisted on witnessing and blabbing on and on and.... as I talked to Norman I looked over his shoulder to see Bunny hurrying back to his rod and lifting into a running......chicken The damned thing had grabbed his maggot baited hook and was now intent on making it to the cover of the shrubs to swallow them. After a brief struggle the hook was removed and the chicken left with a flurry of feathers and a cluck! This all happened without Norman finding out and when he at last went for a cup of tea, we had a good chuckle.

That would be enough for most people but later on Bunny joined me to see a fish I'd caught when Norman appeared once more. Again Bunny went hotfoot back to his rod and once more I had to hold Norman's gaze as over his shoulder as just yards away I watched Bunny in a tug of war with a belligerent hen which refused to move towards him. It dug it's claws firmly into the soil and leaned back raising its behind in the air to gain maximum leverage.... It was at this point that the rooster joined the fray and, seizing an opportunity, mounted the chicken and gave her a bit of a seeing to. All the while Bunny's panic stricken face, ashen with fear of discovery was a picture but I dare not give even a hint of emotion.

And so ended yet another day with Bunny - I am really going to miss him.

A National Bird

Do we really need such a thing? What will a National Bird achieve? I can't imaging the Union Jack being altered to accommodate it's image so its just another one of those pointless pieces of fluff designed to take the mind off of important matters like which shower of incompetents are we going to elect to screw us over for the next five years.

Before I continue I must explain that I may come across as a tad sour today as I was due an operation this morning but it was cancelled at 5pm last evening still, could have been worse, Carl told me his brother was in his hospital gown when he was given the news. Hey ho, my recovery period will now impinge further into the summer's fishing so I may go and kick the neighbours cat later.

Back on topic. Given that this pointless discussion is in place I shall add to it my own pointless thoughts so here goes.

Were we to seek a National representative of the avian type back in our deeper history I suppose the Cuckoo would be right up there as, back then we had a penchant for invading other people's nests and letting the hapless occupants sustain us for a century or two. Bring the analogy up to the seventies and it would have to be the Kingfisher that represented the Great British workforce as every time you see one it's striking - bah dum tish!

Should this bird mirror us by its behaviour or is it just a popularity contest? I think its the latter as stupid, aggressive Swans are there.... mind you, they do have a foot in both camps. What does a Blackbird represent other than there's a lot of them? Do we want to be represented by a Red Kite? A scavenging bird that has survived in this modern world by hand outs or by picking over garbage tips.... This is harder than I thought as they really do seem to have much in common with large portions the UK population.

Robins. Beautiful little creatures that star on countless Christmas cards but really? Have you seen them when they get all territorial? They will happily kill each other as they scrap like things possessed over a length of hedgerow or a south facing garden. They really do have a dark and unsavoury side which again explains their place on the list. Wrens however, they are just short and loud so maybe they should represent ......... no, I won't say as they are not renown for their sense of humour over such matters, are you boyo.

Where do Hen Harriers and Barn Owls come into it? Can't see the reason behind them other than their charm and good looks and that shouldn't be enough to get you voted in, remember Tony Blair? - exactly.

Blue Tits. Surely Great Tits would have been funnier so they don't appeal nor do Puffins as they are too comical.

Have I missed any out? Does anybody care? Thought not. So here's my suggestions. If you want a bird to represent the people of the country then look no further than the pigeon. They tend to be fat and waddle about outside of fast food establishments where they eat constantly whilst making monotonous noises. They breed at a phenomenal rate and when they get together in large numbers they become obnoxious, annoying and tend to leave mess wherever they have roamed.

I can genuinely see no bird thats more fitting than our humble House Sparrow. Ubiquitous, charming and vastly underrated by most. To study the plumage on a sparrow is to open a world of subtlety and perfection of camouflage. To watch their antics, the communication and social instincts when danger is around is wonderful. Yet their numbers have plummeted in recent years so maybe a little bit of kudos from an otherwise useless exercise may just bring their plight into the Nation's conscience which may be a starting point to their recovery but no. They didn't even make the list, what bunch of great tits decided on that?

Spring Grayling

In mid 2013 I organised a grayling competition through a forum and two lucky chaps were to accompany me and my old mate Mike Perry on a trip to the river Wylye during the winter months. Alas the weather gods had other ideas and we eventually convened at Bird and Carter farm shop for a superb full English last Wednesday. Dave and Richard were the competition winners and both were eager to wet a line having, like me, driven well over a hundred miles for the privilege. Dave had done it in his immaculate Morris Minor who's odometer turned 32000 en route.

Its fair to say that the morning was not as productive as we would have liked as the river, which 'looked' perfect, played hard to get but a few fish came to the net and the afternoon's entertainment was assured. We moved to the 'Farm Stretch' just a little area of the seven miles that the club owns but which is simply full of grayling.

As I was a ghillie for the day and have a buggered shoulder, I only dabbled when pointing out a method/swim for the guests but I still had fish. Dave experienced the heart break of a big fish only spot where he missed a couple of bites but successfully landed a stick that put them down. However, when we all met at the bridge pool is was like those halcyon days of our youth when Dave and I ended up sat on the bridge, legs swinging above the flowing chalk stream and watching a little float drifting thirty or more yards below..... until it disappeared time and time again. Dave's old Alcock Isis bent well as a fish was hauled back from the next county to be met by two beaming men in their element.

Meanwhile Rich and Mike were making a mighty catch amongst the shoal that sits in a little eddy and the day was filled with the banter that easy fishing provokes. It was great fun.

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Two days later and I was back, this time with my good friend Bunny with whom I haven't fished for about a year due to the weather and my annoying health issues. Anyway, we filled up on another breakfast and set about putting the long absence to rights. Poor Bunny, he puffs and wheezes like an old train and had to take a few stops along the short stroll to the first swim but he never stopped smiling well, he rarely does .... unless he's discussing immigration or the government.

The swim was known to me and one that we had been unable to fish the other day. Its simply full of grayling that queue up for red maggots all day long and when the sun hid behind a cloud for half an hour the average size vastly grew. Once Bunny was catching I decided to go for a wander downstream and fish for as long as my shoulder would allow. Stopping just long enough to tie a new hook for the old bugger I dropped into a lovely run and tossed a few maggots in - left handed.

It was one of those swims where virtually every cast brought a bite, most bites brought a fish and each fish brought a smile. I took a quick snap of the first as it was the first on that rod, a Lucky Strike just back from being refurbished by Andy Sliwa. It really is the perfect grayling tool as it absorbs all of those thumps and lunges beautifully. The fun lasted barely half an hour before I had to concede and return to Bunny, just in time to tie him another hook.

I've no idea how many fish we took, it doesn't matter. Its a type of fishing that we all need from time to time, bites and fish guaranteed, an easy pace and great company, I also spotted the first celandine of the spring which means that winter is drifting back to where it belongs and although there will doubtless be a sting in it's tail, better weather is only a short wait away.

I won't pick up a rod again until I've recovered from the operation I'm having in a few weeks time but I shall certainly be spending time on the banks - nothing can keep me away.

Starlings

Took a drive to Aberystwyth the other day to watch the starlings murmurate as they settle overnight beneath pier. Alas, they were not in a showy mood so the swirling shapes were few and far between but it was nonetheless a very interesting and exciting display.

As we took up our watching position - out of the biting wind - the first little group of about twenty flew in over the roof tops and circled picking up another little flock so twenty became forty. This continued as more groups crossed flight paths and, like rolling drops of mercury, they seamlessly formed a bigger flock which was soon over a thousand strong. It was then that we had a few of those amazing displays as the flock twisted and rolled in flight but yet more birds came in and went straight under the pier. This was seen by the main group and quickly a number broke off and joined them. Within two minutes the entire flock was ensconced beneath the pier and for a moment the sky was empty.

Not my photo unfortunately

The final dive for cover

Was that it? No, of course not. In came wave after wave containing thousands of starlings but, probably due to the others showing that all was safe and well, they didn't hang about and dived for the cover. It was amazing to see a black cloud of birds taper at the front as a line of them dropped to their roost. It was like seeing a floating bowl of liquid being poured and seemed to defy the rules of flight.

Pretty soon it was dusk and the show was over for another day. We left to the sound of over ten thousand starling voices now audible above the traffic and waves.

It was a single starling that stopped me in my tracks a couple of days ago. Whilst walking the dog I heard that little 'cheeit' sound that tawny owls make to each other. It was repeated and I turned to see if I could see the bird but all I saw were starlings. Then I heard a long, slightly too high pitched and reedy 'tweeeeit' again repeated and realised that it was a starling imitating an owl. It went through it's repertoire several times and I really wish I could have recorded it.

Continuing on the bird theme, a house sparrow dropped a beak full of nesting material at my feet this morning and I've noticed the males have been squabbling a lot of late, a sure sign that spring is on the way. Dunnocks are also displaying and I've heard a woodpecker drumming out it's territorial proclamation over the last couple of days. Despite the bitter weather we are going through its satisfying to watch the signs that the season is about to change.

I hope to bring some fishing related stuff for you soon but it won't last. I've got until the end of the season and will fish as much as the shoulder and back permit but I'm having surgery on the shoulder in mid March which will knock my spring carping on the head before it even starts, which I'm a bit grumpy about. Then, two days into the new season and I have some spinal injections and physio to look forward to. But that, hopefully, will put me back on track and I will be fit and healthy for the end of the season.

Ju Suis Charlie

Happy 2015

Happy New Year one and all. Funny old thing the changing of a date, we all think we can start afresh but I don't think life and the world work that way. Still, onwards and upwards, maybe this year will be better than the last - I certainly hope so.

Before the fishy stuff a rant.

My wife constantly tuts and raises her eyes skyward as I chew the enamel off my teeth at the latest imbecile hairstyle. My father used to annoy me when, as a teenager, I dared to grow my hair to reach my collar. "You look like a girl" was his favourite and the journey to the barbers was interspersed with an opinion of everybody that wore anything more adventurous that a short back and sides.  Well I've become him.

You will remember the sniggering and open mockery when Kim John Un came to power in North Korea. His hair 'style' is ridiculous and oh how funny we all thought. Role forward a few months and half of the Premiership footballers are wearing adaptations on the same theme with the sides being cut so short that some of them look like they are bald blokes running about balancing a gerbil on their head. Meanwhile, most lads not yet able to shave, are wearing the Bieber style of combing everything forwards so that you can only see a nose and one eye. God I feel old.

Whilst I'm at it - Feedback! I perfectly understand the need for feedback on sites such as Ebay where it is necessary to judge the trustworthy trader from the charlatan. What I cannot come to terms with is every other bastard who thinks I've got nothing better to do with my time than fill out feedback questionnaires or answer telephone calls asking how I feel about the last bloody phone call that took me twenty minutes to get past the stupid automated switchboard. If you moan about the switchboard nothing happens because its cheaper than paying a person with a brain to sort your call, feedback doesn't work.

Its become a Damocles sword to hang over the work force. I recently hired a car and was genuinely impressed by the super efficient service by the team of youngsters in the office. As I handed back the keys I was asked if I was satisfied and when I answered in the affirmative I had a piece of paper thrust into my hand with the details of where I could send 'positive feedback'. I looked at the fixed smiles of the workers and saw, just behind the eyes, a look of desperation.

On my next visit there I was asked to fill out a questionnaire form before I even left. They did the scribing as I was quickly asked how I rated their service. A day or two later a letter arrived with a similar set of questions from the head office. The whole firm is forced to give good service or face whatever sanctions the bosses see fit. Well I can't live like that. I know that we expect a standard of service but I also understand that not everybody is bouncy, fun and "Have a nice day" polite 24/7 and nor should they be forced to.

Have you noticed that when leaving a shop where you may have had a spot of banter with the sales person (usually a girl in my case), that they suddenly 'offer' you the chance to fill out a feedback form and have the chance to win £ enter amount here - They don't give those to the grumpy buggers do they.

We also get asked to Feedback about web sites that we've only just clicked on. How can I give an opinion of service if I'm trying to access their site but an annoying bloody feedback window is in my way. Its a lazy form of self rating embraced by narrow minded executives that does nothing to improve their service unless they give us feedback as to what they do with our comments. In the mean time I suggest we all give negative feedback about everything and break the system, they'd soon learn.

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I don't make resolutions, but I do make plans and have aims to drive me forwards, especially when it comes to my fishing. After May, 2014 was probably the nearest my angling came to being a rudderless ship. To this end I am joining another lake syndicate (hopefully), which will allow me to fish an 'easier' location when the ol' back is giving me grief. Its an attractive lake with a level bank that doesn't require belay points and sherpas to get my gear in and out. It has a good stock of carp with lots of single figure fish but also a sprinkling of fish up to low or mid twenties. Although there are weekenders that bivvy up and attack it with multi rods and all the tech, it is apparently quiet mid week and that's when I can fish it with a more relaxed approach. My good friend Paul has stalked it to some success in the past and has found that many of the fish are fully scaled and immaculate so I shall be fishing for pretty fish where size is far less important than my other pool. I'm sure Paul won't mind me including this picture as a sample of the lake's potential.

Of course the 'other' pool is very much in my thoughts and I intend to fish it hard in the search of another thirty pounder. Circumstances have made it harder to arrange several day stays there but I reckon that the Spring time is the time to try and its also the finest time of the year to wake up next to a hidden pool at dawn. I am excited about the prospects and whether I succeed in the ultimate goal or not, it will be a fascinating journey.

Between now and then I intend to concentrate on chub and, if the opportunity arrises, grayling. I used to set my sights on a big back-end barbel but have spent many blank hours chasing hunches. I haven't caught a double this season and I'm genuinely not that bothered about it. Perhaps I've just caught enough barbel for now.


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