A fishy tale

I recall this story in order to remain within the "gang" so to speak. It is about an incident which changed the way I looked at things - a wake up call for an obsessed half-wit! It occurred in August 1987 whilst fishing on The Sixteen Foot Drain, just above Three Holes Bridge. It was a period when Zander were high on my list of priorities. I desperately needed to catch a "double" to ensure my PB list was able to be compared favourably with those of my peers - how sad was that? I was serving on the National Executive Committee of The National Association of Specialist Anglers and Regional Coordinator for the Chilterns, therefore, very much a part of this circus and living the dream.

9 lbs 8 oz of Fenland Zed (Oct '85)

Being a fully paid up member of this "big fish" scene, it was thought that we had some kind of magic wand that allowed us to consistently be seen posing with specimen fish. Nothing could be further from the truth, the number of good fish was in direct correlation to the amount of time spent on the bank - it was the start of the era of "the time bandits!"; the late Alan Wilson right at the forefront of this particular revolution. One of life's true gentlemen, he would have been the very first to admit time was his greatest asset, being an ordinary angler in terms of technical skills. Specimen hunters had elevated the status of homeless tramp (no disrespect implied or intended) into hero, a legend of angling folklore - the next generation carp anglers have turned bivvy life into an art form!

Cuddles, a founder member of the TOTW (The Top of the World) Speccy Hunters, with a Fenland Zed - 1984

The late, and awesomely great, Alan Wilson
The original "time bandit" and all round top bloke - the King of Tring!

I embraced this, time compensating for ability, mind-set and happily spent extended periods on the bank, whilst awaiting my target species to play ball. It speaks volumes about commitment as a husband/father that I could justify such effort in pursuit of a fish, thus, on to this particular event. The regular bunch of social misfits and total lunatics had driven up to the venue in order to spend the Bank Holiday weekend fishing for these introduced alien predators. We had no problems with getting Zander to take our baits, our issue was with sorting out the bigger fish - wheat from the chaff? The Sixteen Foot Drain had a decent history of producing fish into double figures, so it made sense, at the time, to concentrate our efforts there. What we didn't realize was how localized the captures had been and that we might as well have been fishing the Grand Union Canal - we were miles off the mark!
We'd set up camp on the bank and had got our rods out, I can't recall who was present during this session, but do know I was not alone - alcoholic haze being a recurring theme during this period of my life, so not much change then? I am unable to say if the live-bait I used was captured from the drain, or we'd brought it with us - those were the days! I had a small bream, lip-hooked, fished on a Dyson rig close to a marginal lily pad. It was at 03.15 hrs on the morning of 31st August 1987 that my ET Backbiter signalled the take. Picking the rod from the rests, there was a decent moon and I didn't require a head torch (just as well - I didn't own one!) - I tightened into a fish before setting the hook and "let battle commence" Bloody Hell! This has to be the one? I found myself playing a fish which had no intention of waving a surrender flag - it surged up and down the drain with powerful determination. Thinking that this was the Zander I so desired, I happily went along with the ruse and treated it like I was connected to a bar of gold! I have no accurate recollection of the period that the battle lasted, just the absolute dismay I felt as I drew the fish over the net - it had a pike's head on it!
It was obviously a good one, but I just couldn't allow myself to be happy - I was fishing, in the dark, for Zander. I went through the ritual of placing the pike into an ET tube then returned to the comfort of my sleeping bag, totally gutted!

17 lbs 1 oz of Fenland pike - probably never seen a hook previously?
What was my problem? It wasn't a Zed - wake up and smell the flowers you prick!

I have no idea as to when my slumbers ended, but it was already well light and I was able to reflect on the events of the previous night. Sure enough, securely pegged in the margins, was my ET tube containing the culprit of my broken dreams. As I lifted the fish from the water I knew it was a decent lump. the scales recording a weight of 17 lbs 1 oz - in the light of the dawn I realized what a complete twat I'd been. It was a, scale perfect, superb pike - probably never seen a hook before? How could I have been disappointed by such a fish? There is no method, known to man, that allows a "Zander only" tag be attached to a bait and, as such, I should be happy with whatever happens. Whilst I was playing the fish, adrenaline levels were at 100%, it was only the realization that I playing a pike which caused a problem - surely the enjoyment was key, not the outcome? Obviously, at that time, not so. It was a major kick up the arse for me - I needed to regain focus, get back to the basics of what angling was all about? If I couldn't enjoy the experience of a night time pike - why bother continuing? The reality slap was a hard one - happily I learnt the lesson and carried on - never did get that double figure Zed - still got plenty of time?

Jobs a good'n

So there we were, all assembled on the banks of the drain, awaiting the alarms signalling the interest of a hungry pike. Sadly, they hadn't read the script and the fish had switched right off since the rapid fall in temperatures during the previous week. Neither Luke or myself, had a sniff, Benno saved the day with a bite, on a Bluey tail section, and this allowed Bryn a chance to realize a dream. With Benno at the net and Luke providing the coaching, Bryn successfully landed his first ever pike. He'd never seen a live (or dead) one until that moment; his beaming smile speaking volumes about how he felt. He had told his Uncle Ben that he felt cold, not another word after the fish was on the bank.
With advice from Luke and a practical demonstration from Ben, he was ready to pose with his prize, for the ritual photos.

What a way to start your pike angling journey - at 9 lbs 8 oz it is the biggest fish Bryn has ever seen!

It was a cracking morning, despite of the lack of action to my rods. Birding very enjoyable; loads of Fieldfare and other thrushes had roosted overnight in the adjacent hawthorns, there was a female Merlin hunting the rough grassland beyond the drain, at first light. I recorded my first Mistle Thrush, for ages, three Little Egret, three Marsh Harriers (ad male, ad female and sub-ad male) Gadwall, Teal, Water Rail, Common Snipe, Kingfisher, Cetti's Warbler plus a decent northerly movement of Lapwing. I should make more of an effort to carry the big lens, but can't be arsed to lug that extra weight just in case I get a chance photo opportunity.  However, the day was not about birds or me, it belonged to an eight year old, just starting out on his personal exploration of the joys of angling. "Touch me, Perce!" (You've go to be a Wraftie to understand this?)

This should be fun

Benno, Luke and myself are taking my grandson, Bryn, out pike fishing over the weekend. I posted a photo of him with a nice perch a few weeks back and, since then, he has also landed more perch, a good number of "skimmer" bream and seen caught a decent roach (Benno) and chub (Luke) whilst getting destroyed by a lively little carp at Sandwich Coarse Fishery. He has now made it very clear that it is a pike which he would really like to see, so Uncle Ben has made plans.

A very young Benno (aged eight or nine?) at Startops End Res with a nice brace. Those
ET Pike-tubes are still in service today, some twenty five years later!

We're going to the drain, where I've had so much recent success, and are planning to give Bryn all the rods (that's nine in total!) in the hope that he can catch his first Esox. The weather isn't too sparkling, although the -10C, forecast for other parts, isn't a factor. It is still important, however,  that an eight year old doesn't get cold, and/or bored, on his first pike outing - so we have to ensure he is actively involved with what we are doing and stays warm and dry. I will be at the venue, well before the others, and have an ET pike tube in my rucksack just to ensure that, should I get lucky, there will be a pike for Bryn to admire on this auspicious occasion. If I never catch another pike, I will still have caught more than my fair share; I've been very fortunate. It will be an absolute delight should this plan come to fruition, and we are able to introduce a young angler to the delights of pike fishing. The memories of my first capture are as crystal clear as the day it happened - that's what I am hoping for Bryn; a milestone moment, a memory which will remain entrenched for the rest of a lifetime. Around such events are lives, and life choices, influenced. Be nice, not horrible - that lesson will never go away!

Two rants for the price of one!

There seems to be a theme predominating the blogging biosphere which I inhabit - it's nostalgia fest time! There are many other, very worthy, subjects on the periphery, yet it is an overwhelming surge of looking back, not forwards that I am confronted by each time I log on. This social media format seems perfect for an age group, whose roots were planted before the 70's and, as such, are comfortable with Duran Duran and UB 40, whilst "digging" Bob Marley, Led Zep. Queen and Status Quo?
My worry is that this might indicate a very negative slant on our outlook of the future - we've already lived through the best bits and it's all downhill from here on in? I'm guilty as charged - I frequently use memories to keep this rambling nonsense up-dated, but haven't, yet, given up hope. The best is still to come, and that is something of which I am convinced. Seeing my grandchildren grow into adulthood - there can be, in my opinion, no more rewarding process, assuming they do so without turning into anti-social, half-witted, benefit cheats! Always look on the bright side - eh? If I do my bit, then there will be no problems - as I hold the rudder of the "Good Ship Wrathall". I have a responsibility, to my family, that ensures the teachings of my parents, and of theirs before, are not not lost in a swirling haze of politically correct diatribe - we need to concentrate on this is right, that is wrong! It's a very simple concept to understand for anyone with half a brain. Be nice, not horrible - how much more does education, in 2016, need to do to produce citizens who can function normally within global society?
Right, get off that soap box and on to another one! I have been very lax with my blogging stuff, of late. There has been very little going on around Newlands, unless Wood Pigeons and House Sparrows are of interest? My fishing has revolved around a very small section of drain, resulting in a good number of pike landed, but nothing worthy of note beyond "it's another double!" I'm living life in limbo - there is hope, just beyond the horizon, but they keep moving the goal posts! Bev and I will arrive at Quality Street, sometime soon, but we've got to be patient - can't have HM Revenue & Customs going without, that's illegal - just ask AMAZON, Sir Philip Green and Mike Ashley. Yes you have to pay your taxes - even when you're dead? It get's even better  - I have to pay tax on the money that remains, because Dad was too honest about his business dealings. Only in rip-off Britain can the hard working man be subjected to such an unjust system whilst other, scrounging tossers, can have it off - and you wonder why I voted for "Brexit"?  Things were so much fairer before "The Common Market" - that's what we joined, not the Germanic Federal Europe, too many of my relatives died fighting for me to feel anything, other than patriotic, when voting out!

Tangents and blind alleys

As the years pass things, which I once thought important, have now become very secondary in their power and influence. It is this aging process which has allowed me to remain fascinated by my hobbies, the enjoyment of each in no way diminished, by a simple realization of how very far down the list of priorities in my, latter, life they have fallen. My ability to rejoice in the capture of an eel in March, or a Song Thrush sulking in the garden shadows is an indication of how my life has moved on since those crazy obsessional phases. Following the death of my father I have been focused on how soon can I retire? There is light at the end of this particular tunnel but, now, I'm having second thoughts! It's true that my fathers' estate will result in a very substantial amount of money being deposited into my account, but is that all I care about? Mum and Dad didn't work as hard as they did to ensure that they had a good life, they worked to ensure that they were able to assist the next generation as well. As the incumbent head of the Wrathall clan it is now down to me to continue with this ethos and attempt to maintain the values that my parents strove to instill. Would leaving work and living off their efforts be what they wanted? No; I don't think so either - as appealing a scenario as it is.
I am wrestling with several options, at present, although my sensible head says to remain within FSIS and bump up my mega generous company pension with the maximum AVC's allowed. My health remains good, although the arthritis situation is never going to improve - can I find another role, within the organization, which will allow me to stay employed but without the physical stresses placed upon my aging frame by my current position? I've opened a few lines of inquiry and have gleaned some ideas that could just provide a solution to my predicament. This might require a leap of faith to get to the desired situation, but the safety net is in place should it prove to be a wrong decision - it's a "no brainer" when viewed from that angle. C.V's and interview techniques - what's all that about? I have to relearn a process which has no equivalent in my past. You applied for a job - got called in for a chat and if you fitted the criteria - "When can you start?" and that was about all there was to it! In 2016 there are layers of psychological examination, competence and aptitude assessments before any decision process has a chance of kicking in. How will I negotiate such a mine-field? I've already visited HR and inquired about appropriate dress code! First hurdle safely negotiated - all that's left is the entire process of applying for a job and proving that you are sufficiently enthusiastic, and skilled, to fulfill the role. Piece of piss!
I have to accept that I might fall short of the mark (could go to a tribunal claiming ageism!) yet don't feel at ease with the whole situation. There is always the scenario of "if the face fits?" - and I guarantee that mine doesn't. Hair cuts and clean shaven ain't where Dad's influence has taken me - be proud/confident to be an individual - I am! Cutting my nose to spite my face? - I'll still be a relatively wealthy, ex digital, FSIS employee whatever the outcome. I could explore other opportunities, as offered by the retail trade, - I'd give up beer and become vegetarian first! So where am I headed? Tangents and blind alleys sums up everything about my life at present - fear not, I ain't ready to quit this gig in the near future, whatever fate dishes up. The uncertainty is where I am having a problem - I don't know when I will have to make a decision? I don't know how much money is involved (except that it's going to be far in excess of anything I've previously known)  and, if I'm totally honest, couldn't give a toss. Maybe easy to say when it's not something important - I completely understand why others would view that statement in a very different context. "Money doesn't make you happy!" - SAYS WHO? It certainly makes you less sad, and there's no disputing that.

There might be something in this?

I am just back home after another session out on the marsh - four bites, three pike to the bank, including two low doubles, both of which I have caught previously. Generally I am not too pleased with recaptures but, under these circumstances, I am more than happy. Why?
If you've been following the Richie Francis "ideas on pike fishing" theme and the resultant exchanges in my comments box, you will have seen the train of thought that has led me down a rather intriguing path. I make no secret of the fact that I'm a static dead-bait angler - end of! I am also very much of the opinion that large baits = large pike and have happily employed this logic to my pike angling since my return to the hobby in 2011. Chris, the Youtube "Ginger Fisherman" had got some fascinating underwater footage of a large pike examining, and rejecting, a static dead-bait and this is where the saga starts. I'd never have thought that a pike was capable of such behavior, almost carp-like learning, and as such have found myself questioning almost everything I do as a pike angler.
It is not a bad thing, to challenge the status quo, but it does stick in the crop when somebody else is able to point out something which is blatantly obvious and you've simply not noticed it!

She weighed in at 11 lbs 6 oz today. The Mk IV is fitted with an ABU Cardinal 44X, an
idea I got from watching Hugh Mile's "Lost in Time" documentary about Chris Yates. He also
uses a similar combo, but catches much larger fish than I do!

So where am I at today? The session this morning has gone much better than I could have hoped; three rods, two of which were baited with my standard sized, flavoured & dyed offerings and the third with a much smaller bait (a yellow roach - 3 inches max!) Both the doubles fell to the small baits, the bites being text book takes and the hook holds perfectly in the scissors. Obviously it's far too soon to be making any claims about success, but it certainly seems to be a step in the right direction and worthy of further exploration.

Ideas from others

Ric ("Little Richie") Francis and I were members of the Tring Syndicate during that exciting period of specimen hunting, ref; Tench fishing - 1981-93 - and have traveled a, spookily, similar path ever since! The last time we met was in 1993, Studland Heath, whilst "twitching" a Hoopoe. Thankfully, the advent of social media has resulted in us getting back into contact, via the mutual connection to Gavin Haig's "Not Quite Scilly" blog. (Richie, Gavin and I regularly post comments on other blogs we read)
Gavin and his son, Rob, have recently embarked on a pike fishing campaign along the Exeter ship canal click here .I have never, knowingly met with Gavin, although we did fish Tiddenfoot Pit, near Leighton Buzzard, for the catfish around the same period in the early 1990's. Again, there has been a very similar pattern of events in our two lives; angling - birding - angling plus all the other, far more important, stuff involved in getting old! It is Ric (always gonna be Richie to Sye and me) that is key here; both Gavin and myself are in awe of his angling prowess - he's bloody good (or rather he was exceptional when I fished alongside him during the Tring Syndicate days) -  his attention to detail a lesson for anyone aspiring to regularly catch specimen fish. I always felt that the bish, bash, bosh, of pike angling was far too industrial to be worthy of his attentions - he's a rig person. Bait and hooks, that delicate balance of presentation and efficiency being a trademark during the Tring years. His catches of huge Roach from Startops End Res are the stuff of angling legend and it didn't stop there. Tench and Bream also succumbed to the silky skills of this "half - pint"  thinking angler. Even then, way back in the 1980's, Richie had a gift for looking beyond the box - always willing to explore new avenues, regardless of peer group pressure - very brave for someone so young (in 1981!)
Anyhow, that's enough "bigging up" and on with the point of this post. I received this comment and it has set in motion a whole new thought process!

Dyl, Could be a connection between the size of bait the pike are usually caught on, or how often in nature they ever come across such a prize such as a large -intact-dead fish? Unusual food item = unusual outing to the bank. I imagine that, in nature, any poorly fish will be whacked by the pike when still alive. Since we don't 'do that tactic' I'd go down the particle route, since if a very large fish died, it would end up in tiny bits as it rotted away. Didn't Mumford (Ray) take some biggies swing-tipping tiny baits over fish meal ground bait.I once had a 12lb when eel fishing. I was using Bleak sections and the bite was ever so slow. The issue of bite offs isn't far away? All the best, RicF.

What's going on? How could I have missed something so obvious? The really hurtful bit is that I've already experienced success using the "particle approach" during my winter eel campaign. One night session in February was to see me "plagued by pike" including a double! All these fish falling to tiny fish sections fished amongst similar freebies. How did I overlook such a blatant demonstration? Just thick I guess! Or was I simply engrossed with my eel project? Yes, that's a lot easier to accept than being a dullard!

There is no getting away from the fact that Richie has given me another option to explore. The East Kent drains have not yet provided me with that elusive twenty. Could it be due to my stereo-typical methods? Only by attempting something different will I gain any further insight into the pike behavior in these intimate venues and hope to unlock the code to further progression in my quest for my target fish. Nothing ventured - nothing gained!