Syndicate sun-rise

 I can't buy a bite, such is the situation with me and fish at present. Confident that things will change but, in the mean time, I'll have to tough it out. A dawn to dusk session, yesterday, was a proper waste of time, fish wise, yet I did manage five year ticks. Greenshank, Lesser Whitethroat, Cuckoo, Sand Martin and Mediterranean Gull all put in an appearance, plus a pair of Canada Geese (an East Kent rarity) decided to pitch down, briefly, before continuing their journey west along the Stour. It was a stunning dawn, which I photographed before attempting to cast a line. 

Should have looked at the images on the back of the camera then gone back home to bed?

Casual birding

It's been a very enjoyable period, just recently, as I adjust to the freedom associated with retirement. Fishing, obviously, will play a huge part in this new chapter but I'm also rapidly rediscovering the thrill of wandering the Newlands patch again. The birds seen out on this very ordinary part of Thanet have provided massive highs over these past twenty-one years since Bev & I moved into our bungalow. I no longer take notes, nor keep records, as such. The birds, now, are purely for my own entertainment. That I am occasionally able to share a sighting with a passing dog walker or curious neighbour just adds to the pleasure of this very simple approach to my birding. 

Bev and I went out for a walk, yesterday, and as we crossed the "big field" en route home, stumbled across a bunch of birds on a newly ploughed field margin. Three Wheatear, a Skylark, five Pied and one White Wagtail, bloody brilliant! Even Bev, not remotely interested in birds, was able to grasp the concept of "White-arse" as the Wheatears flitted about and easily discerned the difference between the male Pied Wagtails and their pristine "White" cousin. I had a drive down to the syndicate fishery when we got home, intending to cast a floater or two. WRONG! It was packed and the wind, a very chilly Easterly, ensured that absolutely nothing showed. I had a stroll around, chatting with the various members ensconced in their bivvies, "nothing doing!" being the common theme. I had my bins round my neck and was happy to record the first Yellow Wagtail of 2021 even if the rods remained in the van.

 

Out on the farm early-ish this morning, I had that weird feeling of impending doom. It was quiet as I walked the first hedgerow, absolutely nothing, not even a Dunnock! I had intended to walk across to the "Old Rose Garden" but, for some reason, changed my mind and turned right instead. Immediately there were two female Wheatears bouncing about on the recently disturbed earth, then a Corn Bunting appeared. I'll keep going. I've absolutely no idea what made me look back but I'm very grateful that I did. Almost at the point where I turned right, not left, was a thrush! Surely not? The bins immediately pointed towards this apparition, a bloody male Ring Ouzel was decked right out in the open. I rattled off a few record shots knowing that a bunch of school kids were rapidly walking the same footpath I'd just left. The ouzel flushed at their approach, never to be seen again - oh the joy of local patch birding!

Ring Ouzel was a species which I'd already written off for this Spring, such have the conditions been, so a right result. It didn't end there because a few moments later the first "patch" Swallow of the year skimmed past me. Only four Buzzards today, but I did record a flock of twenty-one Black-headed Gulls flying East, so I really don't know what to make of this situation as there's no comparison with the same period in 2020. Roach fishing tomorrow, with a carp "snide on the side" rod just for good measure. That second jab knocked me sideways for a couple of days, hence the lack of blog posts, but it's all good now - onward and upward.

Newlands in the sunshine

 A superb day of unbroken sunshine made even better by the birds I was able to see from my garden and whilst wandering around the field margins of the farm. The remaining stubble was ploughed today and, as such, the local gulls were on hand to alert me to the Common Buzzards moving through our airspace. 

I went for a pre-cuppa stroll and was delighted to stumble upon a group of four Wheatears out on some newly ploughed earth. With the light in my favour, I spent quite a while with these splendid little birds, grabbing plenty of images as the opportunity allowed. I find myself in total agreement with Gavin Haig; it is impossible not to point a camera at these harbingers of spring, such is their charisma.

If the wheatears were a surprise, the flock of eighteen Corn Buntings was about as crazy as it gets. They're not annual here, so that number is off the scale and to top it all, one of the birds was singing. A patch breeding attempt would certainly be a very special record. Skylarks and Pied Wagtails made up the best of the rest, although I did record two Common Whitethroats whilst on my ramble. 

Back home by 08.30 hrs, I spent the vast majority of my time just sky watching, enjoying a procession of Common Buzzards, although not as hectic as the previous day.  I ended the day with a total of thirty-two birds, fourteen of which were singles. Having now spent quite a while watching the behaviour of these lone birds, I'm fairly confident that the majority are of local origin and coming to Newlands in order to feed on the freshly ploughed earth, much to the annoyance of the gulls. Migrants tend to occur in groups, although not always, and I had three groups of three, one of four and another of five which deliberately moved N - NW overhead. One of these birds was a superb "Scandinavian-type", pale phase, individual with heavy moult on it's right wing.

I was further rewarded for my effort when a Wheatear flew over the garden, at 10.00 hrs, thus another addition for the BWKm0 list.

No.55 - Wheatear

Just when I thought it couldn't get much better my phone rang and the surgery asked if I could attend for my second jab at 08.00 hrs tomorrow morning? Are you kidding? Another step closer to freedom - I'll be there bright and breezy.

Buzzard bonanza

 Days like these don't happen very often around Newlands, although I might not have been able to spend the time, in the past, just enjoying the spectacle. I had a walk around the fields, to the north of Vine Close, just before 08.00 hrs and a tractor was already at work, ploughing the big field. Obviously, the local Herring Gulls plus a few Lesser Black-backs from the Pyson's Rd colony, were in attendance and I did my best to locate something different but failed miserably. Six Corn Buntings were an unusual record and I had the first "patch" Whitethroat of the year singing in the adjacent hedgerow. Scattered high cloud and a brisk E/NE wind ensured it felt chilly and I was happy to return home for a cuppa. The first Common Buzzards appeared before 09.00 hrs yet, by 10.00 hrs, there were birds in view almost continually right through to 13.00 hrs when Bev and I went out for a drive. 

I'd recorded forty three birds, although duplication and local breeding birds cannot be discounted, before 13.00 hrs. There were still birds soaring over the farm at 16.50 hrs. What I find difficult to understand is the total lack of the pale, Scandinavian type, birds which were such a feature during the 2020 Spring migration period. Still tomorrow is another day and I see what else I can find whilst standing in the garden watching the world go by!

Stubborn blanker

 It was around 01.00 hrs, this morning, that I was parking the van on our drive after my latest session down at the syndicate fishery. I'd given it my best shot for a good ten hours and not a bleep on the alarms. Plenty of carp activity, in the area where I was fishing but, for whatever reason, couldn't buy a bite! I offered baits on zigs as well as the more traditional presentations, the brisk wind and large population of waterfowl preventing me attempting any surface fishing. However, no time on the bank is wasted and I enjoyed watching the carp, when they showed themselves, and the local birdlife. 

As dusk approached, so the whole area became enshrouded in a blanket of heavy, soaking, mist and the wind dropped away to leave an eerie stillness. Not a murmur from a Sedge or Reed Warbler, no sound of a distant owl, nothing! I pulled the Magenta 5 bat detector from the rucksack and was delighted to listen to the weird chattering calls of Daubenton's bats that were skimming the water's surface, hidden by the dense mist. Strangely, they too were only active for a short period and had gone/stopped feeding before 21.00 hrs. It was getting very chilly and I am sure that, if not for the multi-layers, packing it in wouldn't have been a difficult choice. Knowing that this might be my only outing, this week, I was determined to stick it out and, just after 23.30 hrs, as I was slowly going through the early stages of gathering my kit, out in the gloom sounded the unmistakeable calls of a Stone Curlew - result! 

Plenty to think about before I get back down there, my time will surely come? They're only fish, after all!

Three days in

 Because, of the current situation, the local syndicate requires me to book a slot at the fishery if I wish to have a session, therefore, I'd already committed to three consecutive afternoon/dusk outings (I don't do nights!) this week. Hopefully, with lockdown easing, things will change and I'll have a little more flexibility with my angling arrangements at the venue? If I'd have known how bloody cold it would feel, in the blasting N/NE winds I might not have bothered. Still, if I didn't experience the lows, then I couldn't appreciate the highs when they occur. Certainly not time wasted as I learned plenty which might help me as this challenge moves forward. 

The Hardy "Palakona" Perfection Roach rod, ABU Cardinal 44X reel and
Tring swing arm indicator. In the bucket is mashed bread, for the cage feeder, with a tin
of J66 (Jolly Green Giant - that's carp angling code from the 70's) for hook bait.

If there was a highlight, then it has to be catching a lovely plump 1 lb 2 oz roach on the Hardy "Palakona" Perfection Roach rod. I'd like to thank young Mr Francis for his splendid email, which gave me plenty of food for thought as to how I might approach the roach conundrum in this particular fishery. The bite, when it came, was a drop back registered on a loaded swing arm indicator, much as we used on Tring in the 1980's. So cheers Ric!

I saw a few carp show, as light faded, on Tuesday and Wednesday evenings, yet couldn't buy a bite on a zig or bottom baits. Thursday, with all three rods in areas where I'd seen carp, not a sign of a fish anywhere, not even pike striking at the rudd shoals. All very weird. First Sedge Warbler on 13th April, with my first Reed Warbler just two days later. Had plenty of time to play around with camera kit and managed to record a few images which capture the feel of the fishery, if not the fish within?

I've still got another twenty-one sessions, at least, before the start of the traditional season. I remain confident of a few carp in the landing net before that magical date. 

Getting started

 There's little over eight weeks until the "traditional" fishing season resumes and I am going to set myself a challenge to fill this void before the flatlands are back in the ball game. With the very obvious exception of a Loch Awe pilgrimage, as a rule, I don't need to be out all night attempting to catch a fish. The one ritual that still remains from those early years is a mid-night start on June 15th/16th. Thus, that mid-night start remains the only night in a calendar year when I raise a glass to "Isaac", make the, symbolic, first cast and require a bed chair, rather than a seat, to see the session through!

I've got three afternoon/evening sessions booked (part of the rules during Covid lockdown) on the syndicate "specimen" venue. After talking it through with Bev, I'm committed to three sessions a week at this venue right up to June 15th. My hope is that I manage to tempt that "split cane thirty" but, realistically, I'll be happy to see a few fish in my landing net. It was George, the gamekeeper, who threw a spanner in the works, when he told me about the roach that are also present in this fishery. If, and it's a big "IF", two pounders are swimming around in these murky depths, I'll happily forgo a carp, or two, for such specimens. Going into the adventure with such a blank canvas, I can't see anything other than enjoyment as the learning process unfolds. I certainly have no divine right to catch "big" fish. Success will have been earned, I hope. The fact that work no longer impacts on my ability to present a baited hook is all very weird, but I'll quickly get used to it, I'm sure.

I nicked this promo image from a Nash  advert - can't see any issues arising from this?

Just before mid-day, Parcel Force delivered my latest toy. I'm now the proud owner of a Nash "Bushwhacker" baiting pole system. I feel sure that there are folk out there, in blog land, who don't agree with such items, a bit like bait boats? Me? If there was a helicopter bait delivery system, I'd use it. Progress ain't stopping just because I don't like it. I seek the adrenaline rush of doing battle with a fish using tackle that will provide maximum enjoyment. How I achieve the bite is an irrelevance; modern advancements? If I feel it's not for me, it's not mandatory that I use it  - so a very simple decision. I've chosen the baiting pole because it will allow me to use centre-pins and still place my baits accurately in the margins. As a by-product, when pike fishing. on the RMC,  I can also place a dead bait to where I want it whilst still using centre-pins and no chance of a rig ending up in the trees. In the intimate venues I favour, this stealthy approach can do nothing but enhance my chances of getting that bite I so desire. I'm already thinking about the perch fishing potential of such bait placement.

A thirty before 16th June might be pushing it a little too far but, I am hopeful of setting new PB figures for, at least, one species every year as I move forward. A big ask? It is a question that will only be answered by going out there and discovering if I'm good enough. It's almost like I've come full circle and am as silly as I was when embarking on this "big fish" adventure over forty years ago. Silly, perhaps? Naïve - never on your life. This time round I'm going in with my eyes fully open, but no less excited!

I'll get some photos of the kit, tomorrow, when I'm down at the fishery. Two carp rods fishing the margins and the Hardy "Palakona" Perfection Roach cast into open water. Even if nothing happens I will still have learned something?