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.  

The River Arrow - ATV's and Arachibutyrophobia

Nothing like a day's fishing in the country. Get away from all the smoke, muck and noise of the town. Into God's good air. But you must do it properly if you're to gain the full benefit. You need some distinctive transport for a start. Range Rover, Land Rover are fine. Japanese or American runabouts which look like an upmarket jeep or souped-up builder's truck, with names such as Shogun, Samurai, Maverick, Laredo, Mohawk, Cherokee, etc. The original trim is usually very butch, but you can improve on it by having it painted in full camouflage or with safari-park zebra stripes.

Mount a piece of plastic drainpipe on the top. This not only holds the rods, but makes it look as if you're about to zap a tank at any second.

The advantage of such transport lies not only in its looks. When you arrive at the spot you can drive across pasture and ploughland, sown land, mown land, down-land and upland, to get to the water. 

Leave the gates open behind you: saves a lot of time on the way back. The open gates also give you, on looking back or doing a U-turn, the full effect of the tracery made by your four-wheel drive over the different surfaces of the fields. Such interesting textures. 

And it might encourage you to try a few figure-eights on the more friable surfaces.

While you're at it, why not try rounding up the odd herd of bullocks, aided by nothing but the souped-up horsepower under the bonnet? Surprising how fast they run when they put their minds to it.

Here we are, at the water. Let's get cast out, then, and open a few cans. Ah, that's better. Nothing like fresh air for giving you a thirst. Save the empty cans. And the bottles. When things get quiet you can sling them in the water or range them along the top of a wall and get in some target practice with your .22 or air rifle.

Let's have the old CD's on while you're waiting for a bite. An earful of Groove Armada's Superstylin . Makes you feel you're right out there in the wide open spaces. Turn it up a bit. Spot of Mick's Angrybeats vintage Mixtapes as well. What a life those boys have, eh? Riding the range. Rounding up the dogies. Punching the old cows.

Talking of which those bullocks have come back through the gate from the next field. Never learn, do they? Let's give them a run for it. Hee-yah! Woah - hee! Round 'em up, head 'em out, Rawhide...! By heck, they didn't stay long. Never mind: we've got those sheep over there. Get your wellies on, lads! Maa- aaaah! Gerrup there!

Phew. Takes it out of you. Still not a twitch on the rods. Let's get some grub down us. Big fry-up. Nothing like it, over an open fire. Get one going under those trees, out of the wind. And let's have some stones off the top of that dry stone wall to hold it in. Don't want to set the undergrowth alight. Country Code and all that.

Sausages, bacon, eggs, tinned tomatoes, fried bread. Can't whack it. Just chuck the wrappings under that hedge. Soon get grown over. Sling a bit more wood on the fire: keep the midges off.

While it's quiet, let's stack some stones from that wall into the back of the van. Look smashing in that rockery back home. 

No luck with the rods yet? What kind of water is this? Anybody fancy climbing a tree? Tell you what, race you to the top. Me Tarzan. Aah-ahah-ah-ah-aaaaaaaah! Phwarh! That was fun. 

Can't trust those branches, though. It was touch-and-go when that big one broke. Right... let's look at those rods. Looks like a nibble on Hey up! Who's this? Looks like some sort of a farmer. None too pleased, at that. And what's that he's raising to his shoulder? Looks like a Eek!

Tell you what, you're not going to take this lying down. Having to leave all the gear at the water like that. Only just escaping with your life. There'll be a strong complaint on the club secretary's desk on Monday morning. My God, if you can't enjoy a quiet day's fishing in the country without some loony peppering the seat of your pants...

Anyway enough of that, back to business, a bit of fishing down the Arrow !!!

I had stopped off on-route to a convenient stretch of the Warwickshire Avon however despite the river being within the bank now, the problem was actually getting to the area I wanted to fish. The route to their was waterlogged and was wellie height easily so waders would have been required really. 

So it was to the Arrow to try and winkle out a chub or two. I've had some nice fish from here since I've started fishing it, my best chub so far 4lb 12oz which ain't bad for a small river.

However this 4 hour session wasn't exactly going that well for the bigger fish and it was clear they were not really on it. There was plenty of small fish nibbling the bread as soon as it hit the bottom where swim after swim all I was managing was chublets of this stamp.

At least it was better than last time here but despite the river losing lots of colour from the previous visit where there was now around a foot of visibility, those proper chub were suspicious in their absence. I do fancy trying for perch here though, because plenty of predator activity and plenty of small fish topping. 

When I headed back to the car I decided to drop in to the turbulent weir where after 5 mins two tentative pulls on the tip, which was unlike the fast bites I was getting, after 30 seconds the tip bounced in to the life again where I struck in to a solid fish. A DECENT CHUB !!! OH YES !!! the problem was within seconds it was heading towards the reeds by my feet where after steering away from the its first escape route, this time right under my feet.

I had to give it some stick and sadly the inevitable happened and the size 6 hooked pulled and the fish was GONE, GONE FFS !!!. The first decent fish I've hooked on a while and I'd gone and lost it 🙈. I fished on until I couldn't see the tip and sadly drove home with the tail between my legs !! 

A session I'd rather forget, as it looked a good fish too, send some luck my way please, Ive forgotten what a decent fish looks like thanks 😄

Warwickshire Avon - The Untrodden Pt.8

With work seemingly intensifying day by day with the countdown to the launch of the car I've been working on forever and a day, some much needed me time was needed so on the way back I stopped off at the convenience syndicate stretch.

The river had been over the banks and in the fields and when I arrived at the parking spot luckily the river was now back within its banks albeit I'd have to make my way through the waterlogged field to get near the river.

I walked the banks and thankfully found a nice swim with a decent slack because there was hardly any other swims that were not bombing through and looked as worryingly turbulent as the middle east at the moment. 

No messing around a spam bait on the hair with some worms on the hook to add to the attraction. A satisfying donk when the paste plugged lead fell to the bottom at least I knew the bait was being presented nicely. 

As the afternoon progressed heading in to dusk the skies were rather lovely indeed, especially when the sun was setting with the strong wind causing the clouds to move at a rapid rate. The fish had other ideas though because not even a pull or an enquiry despite the slack offering some sanctuary from the post flood conditions. 

After nearing two hours and a few recasts dusk arrived and went without any change of circumstances, the fish were either not there or just not interested.   

The wind nicely blew the cobwebs away because I do like fishing when the conditions are testing especially when its only for the duration of a good movie. Sadly that ending didn't play out for me but what it has brought, is some much needed colour in the water.

The Avon for months and months has been gin clear so fingers crossed when the fish have gotten used to their new habitat they will be up for feeding again. I've got to be realistic two and a bit hours is not a huge amount of fishing time but hopefully eventually these short sessions will bring up something worth blogging about.