Saturday, 22 September 2018

Water World

So, the weather is going downhill.  The blazing summer seems a (Water) world away.  Nevertheless I do great this time of year with some enthusiasm.  Chasing after Carp is fun but the river is calling.  Now that the water levels have risen a bit (probably a lot by the end of today) it is time to take hold of my favourite rod.  The Darwent Valley Float rod.  An elegant piece of carbon if ever there was one.

The weather was a bit grim.  Rain and general greyness.  Due to get even more rainy and more grey a bit later.  I thought I would head out for 2 or 3 hours over to Lydford Mill-Pond.  A picturesque little place which holds a special place in my heart as I used to fish alongside my late Dad here.

Cunningly I had my rod pre assembled and fully kitted up.  Except it went wrong.  The line had wrapped itself around the rod with lead shot tangled into the mix.  I cursed a bit and reached for the scissors - much like I did when I was a young 'un and my Dad would watch and smile.  He was probably doing that now...

Re assembled I flicked it out.  Sweetcorn attached.  Immediately the float went and my first missed bite of the day can be notched up.  The same thing happened on the second cast with a small resistance felt before it came off the hook.  Hmmm.

I flicked it about into different areas of the pond.  Then things went a bit quiet.  I swapped over to a bit of bread.  Then all hell broke loose.  The float went under and a little Chub was scrapping hard.  I unhooked him and tried a photo but he was flapping like mad and went back into the water before I got a chance.  Then moments later the same thing happened again.  Obviously they were photo shy.

Bit moody looking

I kept up with the slightly random casting.  Hoping to land one in front of something a bit better.  Surprisingly I hooked into 2 Roach.  I dont normally catch many down here.  One was a diddler but the other one was alright.

Good enough

Things kept up reasonably well with a few more gracing the net.

Best Chub (the other two were babies)

Then I finally caught what I think was a little Dace, which brings my Catch22 Score up to nine (See Angling Times).

Dace?  Hope so.

Meanwhile some nutters were throwing themselves off the Lydford bridge into the icy brown water.  I had seen enough water in my world for one day.

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