A morning to savour

Bev and I, along with Madeline, our neighbour, attended the funeral of Hugh Mathews - the husband of Kathy, thus another member of the Vine Close massive. Margate Crematorium provided a splendid send off, for a really nice guy who had impacted positively upon so many during his time on this earth. There was a bit of God Squad stuff, but generally it was a celebration of the memories that Hugh has left us all with. After the ceremony there was a very low key gathering, as Kathy wanted, and we slipped away after a bite to eat and headed back home, leaving the family to come to terms with their loss.
Sneaky, or what? I could get out fishing whilst Bev went out with her brother and parents for their regular Friday away-day. I'd already got the bait from the freezer, prior to leaving for work at 05.30 hrs. What could possibly go wrong?  Are you kidding! EVERYTHING. Bev's father had been rushed into hospital, requiring a couple of blood transfusions, but no-one had thought to let us know where or when! Panic on, Bev and Gary (her brother) phoned around the various hospitals before discovering that Ron was in the QEQM Margate. Gary arrived from Whitstable, and collected Bev, en route to the hospital. I was told that I could go fishing, if I wished. Funnily enough my head wasn't capable of rational thought, let alone focus, and I said that I'd have an early night and get out in the morning, depending upon what  the outcome of the hospital experience.
Fortunately, Ron was discharged and returned to Herne Bay with Gary, the future being far from assured, but there are plans afoot to get social services far more involved with the, day to day, care of Ron and Denise. The alarm sounded at 03.45 hrs and so I was on my way, the weather forecast being overcast with a brisk easterly wind. Really? How much computer wizardry have the Met Office got and still they can't even get close to the reality of East Kent micro-climate quirks. The pre-dawn sky was illuminated by the waning moon and littered with countless stars. I could make out Orion's belt, through some wispy clouds, and offered up a few thoughts to the angling gods as I prepared to make my first cast into the drain. Two rods out, a small scattering of freebies on two spots, I sat back to enjoy the dawn.
A Barn Owl floated past and a pair of Little Owls called out in the darkness, it was classic flatland autumnal fare. The right hand rod couldn't have been out more than 45 minutes when the Siren R3 burst into life and my centre-pin spun as an unseen fish powered off with my bait. I don't think the fish knew what was going on because I had it in the landing net within a minute. Only then did it really start to play up. Too late old mate - game over! I knew it was a good fish when I landed it, but it was only once the sun rose that I could fully appreciate the beauty of my capture. A wondrous, wild, common carp, all 22 lbs 2 oz of it. It encapsulates everything I seek from my time out on the marsh - I was in adrenaline heaven. I spent the best part of two hours attempting to contact Benno, as I wanted to share the joy and needed some photos! Nothing doing, but that's Benno's story, so I had to revert to the self-take technology I have at my disposal. Task completed, although I feel that I've not achieved justice for the magnificent carp that I'd been privileged to catch.

I packed up before 09.00 hrs, photos done, and made my way back to the van encountering another angler on the way. Just like me he seeks the thrill of these wild places and the wondrous inhabitants of the crystal clear water. He has a very positive outlook on the world, despite his disability, and uses fishing as a therapy to everyday life. It was a joy to spend a little time in his company - he knows who he is. We will bump into each other again, of that I'm sure. Only one Beaver today, but plenty of birdie action included 4 Mistle Thrush, 2 Common Buzzard, 2 Sparrowhawk, Meadow Pipit, Goldfinch, Linnet, several Kingfishers, Golden Plover, Lapwing and good numbers of Stock Doves. All round it was a fantastic session.

This might be quite unusual?

I discovered a very strange-looking insect on some courgette plants that Elaini was growing at Saoulas. Initial attempts at an ID suggested an Assassin Bug nymph? Now I'm back home, with full internet access,  Leafhopper Assassin Bug (Zelus renardii) seems to be a very good candidate - an American species which is known to have been (accidentally) introduced into Spain and Greece (not too sure if that includes Kefalonia?); with the first Italian record being confirmed in July 2018!

It's very possible that I'm miles off the mark and the id completely wrong, but it still meant that I looked at something which is way outside my comfort zone - and for that I'm grateful. If ever I stop looking or fail to be amazed by the creatures I encounter, then it's time to chuck in the towel and quit!

Argostoli magic

The Loggerhead Turtles of Argostoli harbour are as much part of, our trip to, Kefalonia as Mythos and Greek Yogurt. With the daytime temps well into the mid-30's, and even Bev complaining about the searing heat, the Gregorys', Dennings' and Wrafties headed off for a day in the hustle and bustle of this busy fishing port, cum shopping centre. Obviously my camera came along for the trip; being paired with my little 55 - 200 mm Sigma lens allowed me to record a number of very pleasing images of the main attraction of the quayside.

We stopped off for a bite to eat, mid shop, before I returned to the quay for another session with the camera whilst the others continued with their search for bargains and trinkets. As you can see from the previous images, these huge creatures are very accustomed to being in close proximity to the crowds of folk who work and/or visit the port. It seems that they are drawn to the area by the local fishermen cleaning their catches prior to offering them for sale. All the offal goes into the sea and these gentle giants suddenly become very aggressive towards each other when food is involved. To watch two massive, wild, creatures perform intricate underwater maneuvers, as they seek to establish dominance over one another, is one of the highlights of the holiday.

On this particular afternoon there were probably six, or eight, turtles in the area, this being a fairly normal number according to one of the wildlife volunteers who monitor these wonderful reptiles.The added bonus was that viewing greatly enhanced by the stunning weather conditions and flat calm surface. So, if you are ever on Kefalonia, forget about Capt Corelli and his banjo, get yourself down to Argostoli harbour for one of the best wildlife experiences there is to be had, absolutely free of charge! With my photos in the bag, we all re-convened in a bar for a well earned drink and Pistachio ice cream, job done for another year!

Superb - as usual!

Back home from our annual Kefalonia jolly-up. A fantastic two weeks, spent in the company of some very special friends, being spoilt and privileged, in equal measure. I will post more about the holiday later in the week but, for now, will share a few images to whet the appetite. We arrived back at 02.00 hrs this morning and I'm off out for a short session, after that carp, this afternoon. Loads to do with so little time to do it. Work again tomorrow - but that's my real life; as normality returns to my weekly routine.

Memories are made of such fabulous experiences, our 2018 holiday is right up there with the best that Bev and I have ever had. Loads of images to scan through before I have all the material for a summary. Birding was hard work, yet I managed a "lifer" with the sighting of a Lanner Falcon, but so many other new encounters with inverts that I've never previously (knowingly) seen. Happy daze!

Blanking; I'm in good company!

It has been quite heartening to watch some of Alan Blair's recent Urban Banx underwater footage of how carp are able to feed over a very tight area of bait, yet avoid picking up his rig. This just reinforces some of the other underwater imagery, that Danny Fairbrass and the Korda Team, had produced a couple of years ago. These anglers are light years in front of me, carp angling wise, yet seeing their rigs being picked up and rejected, without any indication on the alarms, is rather reassuring during my current run of biteless sessions.
I was back out again, Saturday evening, same outcome - I blanked and not a bleep from the Sirens. I didn't stay late, and had packed up before 20.45 hrs, yet this is when the fun started. Head torch required for the tackle down process, I was able to examine the two spots. One remained untouched, so it didn't require a Mensa IQ to deduce that I hadn't been done over, the second however, had been visited and there was a rather sad-looking (badly deformed mouth) Tench feeding on my baited spot. Scanning around, there was a decent carp (a twenty possibly?) lurking at the back of the swim and then, all of a sudden, there it was - the big fish just drifted out from under my feet and melted away beyond the beam of my head torch. It's moments like this that define the emotions of angling, as a hobby, and exactly why I set myself these challenges. Had that fish been feeding on my baited spot, or just arrived? I'll never know, but that's not an issue. What's important is that it's still in the area and I am, therefore, in with a shout if I can remained focused. As I walked off, I checked another baited spot on which I have yet to cast a line, there were two carp feeding on a gravel run, one of which would beat my PB. This 2018 project is providing a fantastic test of my thought processes, yet also defines my very being - what I'm all about as an angler and the enjoyment I derive, from simply being outdoors, watching the natural world go about its' daily routine!
Didn't get to cast a bait on Sunday, having promised Bev that we'd attempt to get the bungalow back into some kind of liveable state and so it proved. I still got down to the drain and introduced a bit more bait, prior to me getting out after work on Monday. I'm not introducing huge amounts of free offerings, just a couple of handfuls on each spot, attempting to keep the fish accustomed to finding food in the vicinity. Four spots were prepared, although I didn't see any signs of the carp whilst I was getting the bait in. I did locate a decent fish, as I walked off, but it was well away from my target area and so not of more than passing interest. I'd carried my camera kit, in the hope of a Whinchat or Wheatear being present - nothing doing so I grabbed a few shots of the munga and what it looks like on the bed of these tap water clear drains.

Munga - my party mix plus halved 15mm boilies (through a Korda Kutter) ready to go.

Quite a lot of surface glare, I don't own a polaroid filter, and the water movement doesn't really
help my cause. The swim is nearly six feet deep and the freebies stand out like beacons. It's
no real surprise that the majority of fish activity is noted as the light starts to fade away.

There are exciting adventures ahead for Bev and me, so I've got just two, or three, more opportunities to visit the drains before this project gets put on hold for a while.
All the previous stuff was written before my Monday sojourn; what follows will bring you bang up to date! Work was negotiated, without to much grief, and I was able to get on my way prior to 16.30 hrs. In no great hurry to get started, I had a wander around the favoured area looking for signs, anything that might provide a spark of inspiration, something to go at. I eventually baited four swims, settling for a very familiar spot, one rod, and a completely new swim for the other. The distance between these two spots probably 15 m, at most! By positioning myself back from the drain, very slightly, I was confident that I would be able to get to the rods quickly, yet not be so close as to alert any fish to my presence. Traps set, I sat back and awaited events, it being now 18.15 hrs. A young Wheatear was flicking about on the field opposite and eventually came close enough for me to grab a shot, with the long lens, absolutely pristine in the late evening light. A couple of Kingfishers came flashing past, their piercing calls alerting me to their rapid approach. With the clock ticking past 19.15 hrs, the light levels started to fall away and I got myself ready for the main event. No, not catching a carp but, instead, the nightly swim pass by an adult Beaver. Tucked down in the bankside vegetation, I could see the bow wave as it powered towards me. Camera settings were ISO 1600 1/340th sec and thus the images weren't as sharp as I'd like, but I did manage one that is rather pleasing.

Immature Wheatear in the late evening sunshine

I'm coming through! An adult European Beaver ploughing through my swim

Darkness fell and a second Beaver came through the swim, this individual one of the "kits" from the 2018 breeding season - it was very slight in comparison to the earlier adult. Golden Plover and Lapwing were calling out on the marsh when this evening ambience was broken by the scream of a Nash Siren R3 and the clicking of the ratchet on my Matt Hayes Centrepin. Bloody Hell - a fish!
Sadly not the one that I seek but a beautiful example all the same. A stunning little linear mirror came grudgingly to the landing net and ended a fantastic evening session out on the flatlands. I'm back out before Friday, that's a definite!

Under 9 lbs, but size isn't everything when they look this good?

(Wise) words?

Rod Hutchinson wrote, in The Carp strikes back, "Don't forget to taste the hops along the way!" (or was it smell the flowers?) Although I never got the opportunity to fish with this legendary carp angler, I did spend quite a few sessions, at various angling conferences, tasting the hops with him, Roger Smith, Bob Jones and Richie McDonald, amongst others. Happy, crazy days and nights. David Hall, yep the very same bloke who was proprietor of David Hall's Coarse Fishing Magazine, was also regularly part of this nonsense. I'm sure he was only there in order to keep "Snide Rumours & Dirty Lies" filled with angling gossip, the bigger the personality, the better the story. Copious amounts of "lunatic soup"; tittle tattle became less guarded and so the boasting began. Doesn't matter what you've done, we've done it better! David was never one to let truth get in the way of a good story; that column was a "must read" as soon as the new monthly edition appeared on the news agents shelves. I look back, with rose-tinted glasses, very happy that I featured regularly, along with the rest of the crazy gang from Hemel Hempstead. No publicity is bad publicity, and so it proved - I got invited to give illustrated (lectures!?) talks - slide shows - by various clubs and societies around the UK. Whether it was Newcastle, Devon or Thanet, I did the rounds, I even got invited onto the stage, for a NASA conference, at Loughborough, to speak about Catfishing the Leighton Buzzard AC waters. (Not my finest hour - but at least I performed and it's now part of the journey!)

I think it's important to understand that this was a period before "Speccy Hunting" got hijacked by Carp fishing, and, therefore, it was still OK to deliberately target a double figure Bream, without feeling inferior as an angler because of such choices. Fashion statements, via brand logos, meant "jack shit", so very unlike today's big fish circus. Many items of tackle needed to be homemade, as the commercial manufacturers were focussed on catering for the needs of the pleasure and match anglers. We had spods, hangers, swingers and rod pods (dam stands), long before the carp lads "invented" them and I'm fairly confident that we'd tweaked these concepts from items that Dick Walker and those other pioneering anglers had developed as Specimen Hunting slowly evolved/emerged from the general angling scene of the post war years. Every generation seeks to reinvent the wheel when, in reality, all they can achieve is to fine tune the design?
Original thinking is, by definition, a very scarce commodity. I am now seeking answers to the conundrum posed by the carp of the East Kent marshes. I've been royally mugged off by these fish, so much so that I'm starting to doubt if I'll ever get another bite? I've massively underestimated the challenge, stupidly assuming that these carp would be naive, due to not being fished for. WRONG! VERY WRONG!! Yes, I've located some carp, one of which is huge, they're readily accepting my bait but can't trick them into taking a baited hook. Just how cute these carp are has been demonstrated during my last three evening sessions. Not a murmur from the Siren's, carp all over my spots, the freebies all gone, the rig/bait combos totally ineffective. Quite how this is possible has pushed my boundaries way beyond any comfort zone - I'm way out of my depth, experience wise. The two carp that I've recently managed to tempt have been nailed, so rig mechanics is not the issue. My problems are far more basic. What presentation do I need to use that might tempt more of these fish into picking up my hookbait amongst the bed of freebies?

Ramsgate (Carp) Angling HQ - forget Amazon; support a local business! Use it or lose it; simple as that!

With all this turmoil going on, in my head, I drove down to Camo's for a chat, and a coffee! Alan "Camo" Turner has a wealth of knowledge about all things carpy and, I'm happy to say, will always try to offer sensible advice to those who seek it. We spent a good half an hour talking through the options he felt might assist my cause. I came away with a few new ideas and £9 lighter, as I purchased some rather radical hooks. I will disclose more once I've had chance to experiment with these new toys. They are an incredibly aggressive design, verging on insane. Will they provide, at least part of, the answer to my current demonstration of angling inability? If I'm totally honest, I'd be gutted if hook choice was the root cause of my failure - surely I've been angling far too long for this to be realistic, yet need to explore every avenue open to me? Camo suggested naturals, I voiced an opinion based around "matching the hatch". I'm attempting to catch a fish, not set foot on Mars! Surely I possess adequate brain function to outwit a carp, even in 2018?

You could put a saddle on it! The fish of my dreams.

Two and a half months into this campaign and I've taken just three fish, one double! Hardly a definition of success, or even a project that's on the right track. The weird bit is that I'm rather enjoying this test, so very unlike the barbel campaign of 2013/14. I'm being forced to stray from my particle approach due to circumstances, ie the building project, but also the knowledge that Tom is having moderate success using modern baits (boilies, pop-ups and dumbbells). I'm experimenting with my tactics, if not my tackle, which can only assist with my learning progression. Of course it's easier now we have access to infinite opinions, via the wonders of Youtube, but none of that can replace actually going out and trying stuff for yourself. Obviously there is another way; I could adopt the time bandit approach and revert to my selfish, and totally pointless, behaviour in an attempt to compensate for a lack of angling skill within the smoke screen of rod hours. Bev and I would part company very quickly if it were an option I was prepared to explore. No point getting old if you don't get crafty (artful) - too much good stuff going on in my world to ever consider a return to a pathway of lunacy and single-minded obsession, just to place a wet fish in my landing net. If/when I catch a fish then I would like to think that ability had far more to do with the capture than the simple equation of time spent on the bank, times three, because that's how many rods are allowed! My use of the rod hours statistics as a measure of how talented an angler really is due to Jim Gibbinson. He was a fabulous angler, a great writer and also a great thinker; he first raised the awareness of eutrophication to the ecosystems of our freshwater fisheries, way back in 1983. Jim always placed ability, above time, in all angling situations. He was the first speccy guy, that I ever heard, to praise match anglers, and their methods, in the respect that they had to perform within defined time barriers. If they fail to catch within the designated time they couldn't compete, thus angling ability was a key factor that couldn't be disguised by extended time on the fishery. (Still can't) Jim's wisdom still holds firm in my own approach to "big fish" chasing. I think that the real skill is "Know when you're beaten!" - there's always another day!

A strange week

Last Monday I overlayed and, as a consequence, was late for work - the first time in fifteen years! I got ruined by the other lads on my shift and my supervisor. Still I'd expect no less, it being part and parcel of factory life. What goes around, comes around; my turn will surely come? Still the building project drags on, although it's certainly starting to take shape, at long last. Being on earlies meant I was able to get a few evening sessions in, if I didn't actually fish, I still kept the bait going in.
I'm slowly unravelling the puzzle posed by this population of carp, although I still am unsure of my presentation in this tap water clear environment. Rig mechanics are something I love to tweak, and tank testing provides many solutions, although the true test is when the rig is in the swim. I have been playing around with Ronnie and Blowback rigs, plus I use Nash Pinpoint hooks. If Youtube is anything to go by I'm on the right track. Only one fish landed, from three bites (all on the same evening), saw a chunky little common of 13 lbs 10 oz grace my landing net, absolutely nailed in the centre of the bottom lip. Three further trips has seen me blanking, although I know that there were carp feeding on my baited spots. I'm finding this a very stern test of my technical angling ability, yet in a very weird sort of way, rather enjoying pushing myself to think outside the box, looking for that spark of an idea which just might unlock the code.

Still it's great being outdoors as the evening light starts to fade. Kingfishers are a regular sight along this particular stretch. Two young Buzzards have taken to roosting in a small copse, nearby, and they call to each other as darkness approaches. Yesterday evening a juvenile Marsh Harrier came floating along the reeded fringe of the drain, completely oblivious to my presence until it was right above me.
Strangely, I haven't recorded a single owl or fox this past week, yet conditions looked bang on and there are lots of Short-tailed Bank Voles (food!) around the marsh at present. The one species which is guaranteed, however, is European Beavers. Not a single session passes without these creatures putting in an appearance. I think that they might be beginning to disperse, as I'm not seeing as many youngsters as I have previously, but the adults are still in residence. Yesterday evening I sat waiting with my little Finepix and managed to grab a few images as one swam up the drain, and right past me.

Not the purpose of why I'm, alone, out on the marsh, sitting on the bank, but an entertaining distraction nonetheless. As Derek pointed out, in a recent comment, I should consider myself very fortunate to have such wonderful wildlife encounters as part of my hobby, there are many others who will never experience such intimate views of our natural world and, in this instance, I find myself having to agree!