Warwickshire Avon - Zombies and Zoomorphisms

Now after the damp and dreary weather of November, it's quite a relief to get to the rain, fog, frost and snow of December. Whatever the weather in December, it doesn't matter. As is to be expected in the season of goodwill to all men, comfort and joy and the odd spot of ding dong merrily, December is a month devoted to socialising rather than serious fishing. 

The true Brotherhood of the Angle is expressed in friendly matches and club socials; at the Yuletide Ladies' Night where the anglers' wives can swap barmy-husband stories and commiserate with each other; in the cementing of old friendships and suspension of old rivalries around a log fire in a hospitable fishing pub.

Everybody, in other words, gets wellied.

The effect this has on any attempt a serious fishing is evident at the traditional Boxing Day match. Those matchmen who do turn up bear a strong resemblance to zombies on a bad day; shuffling, stumbling, peering blearily about them and not quite sure where they are or what they're supposed to be doing.

There is a high incidence of hooks in ears and terminal rigs in trees; a fair amount of injury sustained by tripping over baskets, sitting on rod rests and falling in the water. 

Neither individual nor team weights qualify for the record books, most of the anglers being fast asleep when the float bobs or the rod tip twitches.

The fish, in fact, do very well out of it, scoffing hundredweights of groundbait liberally laced with secret ingredients such surplus Christmas pudding and high-protein minced parson's noses, and being left to strip the hook baits at their leisure. 

Though the catches might be minimal or non-existent, the work of the stewards, captains and match secretaries is greatly increased during a Boxing Day match. 

A lot of their time is spent fishing the clumsy and incautious out of the drink. And they have the added responsibility of ensuring that those lads still sitting on their baskets after the final whistle are merely sleeping, and have not passed over from the effects of excess or hypothermia.

True to the spirit of angling, such inconveniences as the odd corpse are not allowed to cast a shadow over the proceedings. To rush straight back home with the dear departed would not only mean some of the lads missing their ale, it would not be fair on the deceased's widow, who would still not have cleared up after Christmas Day.

A defunct angler is carried by his mates into the pub and sat down in a quiet corner. (This causes no comment from the landlord: he's used to seeing Boxing Day anglers sitting stock still with their eyes shut.) And if the angler's got the price of a round on him, he may have the posthumous privilege of buying a last pint for his stalwart comrades.

This is not only the true Brotherhood of the Angle. It's as he would have wished...

Anyway back to the task in hand !!!

Nic from Avon Angling was already bankside trotting in a swollen river still boiling and bubbling however his reel was playing up and he was heading back to change his line due to the frustrations. He managed to hook a right old lump that came off and also caught a chublet I believe for the few hours he was there.

The banks are so muddy at the moment so not exactly pleasant wading through the slop and I had literally 2 hours max to try and winkle out a chub. Trotting would be perfect once the river drops a little more and it was starting to clear from the brown it has been for ages to a light green colour.

I didn't fair much better because I missed a couple of bites and also lost a fish in this swim when I cast the bread in to a slack over at the far side, a fish must have picked it up on the drop because as I was putting the rod on the rest, the rod pulled round and the next thing I know I'm snagged up solid. 

I primed a few swims with bread and eventually I had a small chublet to save a blank. I decided to use bread straight on the hook rather than cheesepaste because of the missed bites and maybe these were the

So a bit of a disappointing session to be honest where ones curfew came round far too fast. The conditions are going to settle going forward fingers crossed, there was plenty of signs of fish in some of the swims I fished where I would have imagined that if I fished maggots and small hooks I would have caught more fish.

I was after a decent chub though and the limited time didn't help. If I stayed till dusk I might have faired a little better. Talking of which the teams works do the recently opened F1 arcade in Birmingham my reactions are not that they used to be.

So somewhere down the leaderboard out of 9 of us, however the last race I pulled back some points for the team after getting through the usual starts carnage, I managed to lead the race at spa for most of the laps until the last but one bend where after spinning it I came 2nd.

An enjoyable do actually, not just the whole F1 experience but even the food was decent which is unusual for this type of venue. I'd certainly be up for giving it a go again, maybe I'll need to practice on the PS5 first to increase my skill levels.