That mallard drake, and his umpteen cousins and aunt, are the biggest thieves in the queens kingdom! ate away all the ground bait, they did!
After a smooth trip from Dublin, Henry took me from the bristol airport straight to the swim,
Personalised no plates
about 10mi from Bristol, at 5 ish in the evening-masala chicken, tea, a DAM rod, a huge box of fishing goodies and a shimano 5000 baitrunner.A spade ended no 10, tonnes of ground bait , and away we go
As is usual of me, I normally strike form by day two-so itwas upto Henry to give a demo of 11m pole fishing and he started with a good carp , then a veil, then a mirror carp-all of the 7lb + range.
Well, i enjoyed my tea and chicken and smoke and the environs, and the other anglers in their studied insouciance,
and forget to even bait my hook at times...thats the truth.
We headed home to henry's manor, met up with his exotic menagerie-he hand rears and hand feeds the birds-the feathered ones atleast-and they just wont get enough of him-
Dinner was baked Trout with potatoes and -lip smacking.
Day 2 began on a wet and cold note and i checked out the weather with an experienced, half open eye and promptly went back to bed.When henry finally woke me up at 8-30am-it was our ETD and I put on my cheery face and went down for brekker.A major belch later, we were away in the always 'packed to the gunnels ' fishomatic, Gonsalves Express. same road , another lake-
Same story of a loaf of bread, a bowl of wine etc etc with due regards to the drunken tentmaker-past 1pm and no strike.lots of bites and truckloads of ground bait, nada, zilch .
I go up and get a cuppa from the restaurant, a couple of smokes,take some pics, pull up stakes and decide to become Henry's neighbour-peg 33, allrise...
not only that, having being reduced to penury in the department of ground baiting, begged myself a hand full from Henry in the next peg and cast out 2 m away and decided to while awaythe afternoon with improving my thumb flicks a la pellet bait.
Well, the whole evening went on like that-except for the SMALL ones which i would unhook and put back, any fish meriting a pic , ended in a dulcet voiced bellow for Henry in the next peg-ah, forgot to mention, we were sharing a landing net-having forgotten the second one at home.
cold, wet bedraggled (more like bedazzled) 6ft and less from the bank, 3-4 pellets as ground bait, and the carp couldnt stop hitting them!
the line was 8lb mono-barbless no 10 hook-never lost a fish...
except for the usual grunt and a curse from the canny neighbour- ''oooh F**k lost him,D**n, he got away...''and the usual anglers solemnities, I had no idea what ol man river was upto.
End of the line, 8-30pm and after the last hookset,C&R , no ciggies and am longing for a cuppa brew, we decided to pack up and :
pack away the lefgering set up, the 11m pole, the 14m pole , the whle kit and caboodle
came the innocent request- ''come and help me with the keep net, will you- a bit heavy for me.''
Foosh and a half-that was par for the course for HG, all the fish the camera could see and a whole lot more that were nestled away, so after the incredulous silence, the release with each splash louder than its predecessor, and ...I'm posted for spine surgery on sat next.
