Paul Richardson
Senior Member & Supporter
My mojo has up and deserted me. Normally at this time of year I am like a cat on a hot tin roof, in anticipation of the 16th. But right now my fishing motivation is lower than a snakes belly. This is mainly down to the mental anguish of the well publicized bull seal that is still in residence in the River Swale after 9+ weeks eating some of the finest chub,pike and of course barbel to reside in Yorkshire rivers. The stretch I fish is ruined.Destroyed. No-mas, No-mas. And there is still no end in sight after 2 failed attempts to net it recently.
I am looking at new stretches, new rivers but with very limited time for fishing never mind exploration, I am struggling to get in the correct positive mental state to take on these new challenges. I'm sure that it will kick in but right now it's hard work.
So yesterday evening I decided to give myself a kick in the butt and fish a local pond for some tench. Float rod, sweetcorn, lift method.Simple..
I've fished it since I was a kid, an old estate lake that has been adopted by some lads who have done a great job in managing the fishery but have concentrated on carp.
How times have changed. There was certainly no way I was going to get bored, as my adrenaline was through the roof, in mortal danger of being hit by a 3oz lead flying towards my swim from the 'artillery' on the opposite bank( apart 40 yards away - it's a 2 -3 acre pond).
The young lads were harmless enough but clearly had St Vitus dance as despite having created what appeared like Glastonbury with their bivvies,day shelters,TVs - could not actually stay in their swims for longer than it took them to clip up to their 120DdB alarms and would congregate in groups as far away from their rods as was possible.
Ah, I get it now - who can run the fastest and noisiest to the rod that has actually been set off by the ducks( not carp). If I'd been a wildebeest sat there relaxing after a hard day pounding across the Savannah with my herd, I would have still thought - " Jesus, and I thought we were noisy and heavy-footed"
No matter. One lad asked me what I was doing in a quizzical manner? I really don't think he'd seen a float being used in anger. I didn't get chance to answer as a PVA bag exploded above my head. 'Waterloo' pond is my new name for the venue.
An alarm goes again and one of them has a fish on, barely putting a bend in the 3 1/2lb TC rod - it's like being in the Kop end vs Everton - " Gooo ooonnn Son"
It's clearly a big fish, about 6lb, and after 10 minutes the mob have turned on each, so I tentatively peek out from my hastily erected Anderson shelter.Good they're all arguing now so no leads flying my way. The carp has done them under a tree and one of them has stripped done to his undercrackers to free it. The funny bit is it's about 18" deep
But it's really important as they need to know who it is and photograph both flanks, to publish on Facebook,Twitter,Instagram,LinkedIn and Gazette Live.
It's called " No Lips" and has put on 2 oz since it was out last Sunday - now weighing a portly 6lb 7oz. Time to roll a fattie boom boom and sink a stella or two.
The magic hour approaches and I hear the clanking of metal and rustling of bags and they are clearly re-enacting the stompy bit from the Dave Clarke 5 song " Bits & Pieces" - obviously they are starting to take down Camp Bastion and head for home after an arduous 6 hour campaign.
I get a bite, miss it and end up hooking a tree. Time to go home.
Next thing I know , I'm waking up from a deep sleep. "Ah -thank goodness it was all a terrible dream.Phew." That is until a see my fishing clothes strategically scattered all over the bedroom floor and the distinct smell of sweetcorn liquor and I realise that I have seen the future.
Someone please help - I think I'm going mad.
I am looking at new stretches, new rivers but with very limited time for fishing never mind exploration, I am struggling to get in the correct positive mental state to take on these new challenges. I'm sure that it will kick in but right now it's hard work.
So yesterday evening I decided to give myself a kick in the butt and fish a local pond for some tench. Float rod, sweetcorn, lift method.Simple..
I've fished it since I was a kid, an old estate lake that has been adopted by some lads who have done a great job in managing the fishery but have concentrated on carp.
How times have changed. There was certainly no way I was going to get bored, as my adrenaline was through the roof, in mortal danger of being hit by a 3oz lead flying towards my swim from the 'artillery' on the opposite bank( apart 40 yards away - it's a 2 -3 acre pond).
The young lads were harmless enough but clearly had St Vitus dance as despite having created what appeared like Glastonbury with their bivvies,day shelters,TVs - could not actually stay in their swims for longer than it took them to clip up to their 120DdB alarms and would congregate in groups as far away from their rods as was possible.
Ah, I get it now - who can run the fastest and noisiest to the rod that has actually been set off by the ducks( not carp). If I'd been a wildebeest sat there relaxing after a hard day pounding across the Savannah with my herd, I would have still thought - " Jesus, and I thought we were noisy and heavy-footed"
No matter. One lad asked me what I was doing in a quizzical manner? I really don't think he'd seen a float being used in anger. I didn't get chance to answer as a PVA bag exploded above my head. 'Waterloo' pond is my new name for the venue.
An alarm goes again and one of them has a fish on, barely putting a bend in the 3 1/2lb TC rod - it's like being in the Kop end vs Everton - " Gooo ooonnn Son"
It's clearly a big fish, about 6lb, and after 10 minutes the mob have turned on each, so I tentatively peek out from my hastily erected Anderson shelter.Good they're all arguing now so no leads flying my way. The carp has done them under a tree and one of them has stripped done to his undercrackers to free it. The funny bit is it's about 18" deep
But it's really important as they need to know who it is and photograph both flanks, to publish on Facebook,Twitter,Instagram,LinkedIn and Gazette Live.It's called " No Lips" and has put on 2 oz since it was out last Sunday - now weighing a portly 6lb 7oz. Time to roll a fattie boom boom and sink a stella or two.
The magic hour approaches and I hear the clanking of metal and rustling of bags and they are clearly re-enacting the stompy bit from the Dave Clarke 5 song " Bits & Pieces" - obviously they are starting to take down Camp Bastion and head for home after an arduous 6 hour campaign.
I get a bite, miss it and end up hooking a tree. Time to go home.
Next thing I know , I'm waking up from a deep sleep. "Ah -thank goodness it was all a terrible dream.Phew." That is until a see my fishing clothes strategically scattered all over the bedroom floor and the distinct smell of sweetcorn liquor and I realise that I have seen the future.
Someone please help - I think I'm going mad.
