Piscatorial Quagswagging

...the diary of a specialist angler in around the Warwickshire Avon and its tributaries.

Sunday, 6 October 2024

The River Arrow - Redeye's and Robots

I've had a really bad cold that thankfully on the way out as I'm in Spain next week for some chill 😎 time,  a couple or three lemsip hot toddies sorted me out throughout the day. So from a sore throat, to a cough, to a streaming nose, a painful cough and losing my voice for 24 hours, a proper one this one, the end is in sight. As I'm typing this though it's almost gone, I think eating everything in sight over the last few days has helped, feed a cold and all that. 

Anyway glutton for punishment I was back on the Arrow again for some reason. To be fair Sam wanted to try and catch a big perch and a couple of the match guy's I'd bumped in to down here, recalled some stories of some huge perch, and even bags of perch winning matches. (last week, 2 years ago, 20 years ago ? your guess is as good as mine)

The problem was Sam came down at 7.15am blurry eyed and yeap, you guessed it, he was going back to bed. Oh well, with the decision made the night before and the gear sorted. Didn't have much other choice now did I !!! 

Now talking about eyes !!!, before you unhook the next fish, look into its eyes. (OK, unless it's a pike, you've got to look into them one at a time, but you know what I mean.) When you've done it, you'll find yourself taking the hook out ever so gently.

We'll start with the roach and get her out of the way because, lovely though she is, her eyes are the least impressive. Gentle eyes, modest and unassuming, but not much else. Like the eyes of the faded daughters of the clergy or the military, who finish up running Olde English Tea Shoppes.

The bream has eyes that are sort of soft and sort of dopy. Like the girls who used to line the wall at the Palais and-in reply to your sophisticated opener of, 'Do you come here often?'-would reply,

'Yer...'

The gudgeon has eyes that are soft and warm, gently smouldering with a hint of restrained passion. If you met a girl at the Palais with gudgeon eyes, you knew that she would finish her chips quickly to make time for five minutes round the back.

(With your permission I'll drop the Palais before I get into any more trouble.)

Perch eyes are bold, brassy, indignant and challenging, saying, 'If I were four feet longer, I'd bite your bloody leg off-right up to your flaming ears!'

Chub eyes are hard and stubborn, like those of a Yorkshireman who is being badgered to pay his round, but who is standing there sullen and saying nowt. (Yorkshire readers over twelve stone and with any skill in the noble arts of self defence or clog fighting, please read 'Lancastrian' for 'Yorkshireman'.)

The tench has the African gold eye of the toad who turned into a prince after the beautiful princess had let him sleep on her pillow all night. But he doesn't have the same luck. There is not a single recorded instance of a tench shacking up with a princess.

(Remember the story of the toad who was still a toad next morning? The princess said, 'But you promised to turn into a prince', 'Just shows you, darlin',' said the toad. 'Some birds will believe anything.')

The eel has small, glowing ruby eyes, set in the most delicately featured face. Neither face nor eyes get looked at while the poor old thing is being bashed, hacked and stomped on. Being an eel is not much fun.

The pike. When he comes to the top those eyes frighten you to death. But look at them properly. You might see what T. H. White saw and recorded in the magical book, The Once and Future King. 'his great jewel of an eye was that of a stricken deer, large, fearful and full of griefs'.

It is, too. And the discovery is one of angling's deep and lasting revelations.

Only mind your fingers.

Anyway I don't know why I bothered, because after catching literally every single minnow out the river eventually some proper big sized perch baits appeared, where under the float they were ignored in the weir for a good 45 minutes, and also in the deep swim for nearly an hour that looked like it would harbour a predator. 

Nada, naff all, zilch, WTF !!!

Then after bumping in to a member who was making the pegs good for a match soon, "I've not caught a perch in ages, let alone a decent one" 😃 Errrrrrr ok !!! 

Maybe Pixel Farm Robotics that had their farming robot in the carpark could offer some advice for easing one's situation and to catch something to put a decent bend in the rod, because after fishing bread on the chub rod, the chublets were obliging, their mums and dads not so.

So the Arrow isn't fishing well for me on this stretch, the 3 cormorants wouldn't have helped that I spooked and the resident herons, but I did well towards the end of the last season, this season it's been pretty pants. Anyway the Avon is back in fishable condition so the Arrow can do one for a bit, and I'll pop back when it's much colder I think when I need that small river fix.  

2 comments:

  1. Arrow has been next level pants so far and not even seen the otters....

    ReplyDelete