Saturday, 13 January 2018

Tough Going

After Christmas the rain came with a degree of inevitability, you spend days cooped up at home and are yearning to get out. Only to be met by this seething mess. This was one of the better days, it soon spent much of it's time in the meadows, only this week dropping back before the next deluge appears on the radar. No fish caught what so ever and personally using lures in water like this is futile, for me anyhow. 




Recently a spur of the moment decision was taken to grab some gear and get out and hopefully find some fish. The river looked in perfect nick and just for once things went more or less to plan. I spent an hour on a beat that has done some good Pike in the past, but the recent floods have done a fair amount of damage. Trees have been deposited on the bank side, silt clings to your boots making each step a chore. In short it just looked pony, so a move about two miles downstream was in order. It does not suffer so much owing to it the banks themselves being that much higher.


Nothing to set the world alight big fish wise, but an enjoyable session all the same resulting in six small Pike about this stamp and a solitary Chub, who wore the look of a fish who had been fooled by a lure and though oh bugger.   






It was just good to be back out in decent conditions, just you and your thoughts. A beat of river to myself, a few fish caught. That's all anyone wants right?


Be Lucky


Monty D

Saturday, 23 December 2017

Does The Bell Still Ring?

Kids I've some bad news, very bad indeed. If you are expecting Father Christmas to visit you tomorrow night, then sadly you are out of luck. You see dear old Saint Nicholas is lost, he is stuck on a large reservoir in the south of England, going around and around trying to find some feeding fish.

I swam ashore yesterday, the pain was to much to bare, watching this cuddly man close to tears. His parting words to me were "I'll not come off the water until I've landed a twenty so fuck Rudolph". It looks like Easter may be out the window as well.

So kids, don't expect sweet FA. It's just one of those lessons in life in that you don't always get what you wish for. Live by that mantra and it will stand you in good stead.  






Now you simply cannot do a Christmas blog, without the presence of a Robin. This one is from a few years back while Barbel fishing. I fed him some Hi-Nu-Val but fear that to much black pepper oil was in the mix, as not long after it dropped down dead. Another lesson in life kids, do not accept things from strangers.




I'll be off fishing again in the morning, no choice really. Denise is hosting a "Prosecco Lunch" for a few friends starting at noon. The last time they had one of these was in August, it went on until midnight. Carnage, sheer carnage and the same outcome is a forgone conclusion.


Now over the years a carol has been slipped into my Christmas blog, but this year a small movie clip. Now does the bell still ring for you? Or have you lost it? Me, well it will for ever ring trust me on that. Because I'll always be a big kid, can't see myself ever growing up.






A Merry Christmas from up high on Yat Rock.


Be Lucky

Monty D

Monday, 18 December 2017

A Slight Slip

It's not often I get serious on here, try not to preach and offer advice. But after yesterday, maybe offering some advice seems pretty apt.

The river had been over the banks about a week ago, owing to the snow and rain. Scanning the EA website daily, it was running off nicely come the weekend. So yesterday morning, packing a few lures for Perch off I went. But sadly the river was still carrying far to much colour for my liking, although it was only about two feet up on it's normal winter level.

Had a Jack take a small spinner bait, so was pleased with that to avoid a blank. Roaming about, I lost my footing and had a right pearlier of a fall and ended getting a little wet, it could have been worse. You can laugh about these things now, but at the time it was not to clever. My fault really, I'd not given much thought to the under foot conditions. All the sediment and standing water had frozen, leaving the bank like an ice rink.

It got me thinking, wear a life jacket. We wear one in the boat, why not on the bank side in these adverse conditions? It may just save your life one day god forbid. Not preaching just saying!  




Ahh bless ain't they cute, having the time of there lives back in September at Chez Rocca's. Lush grass, good food and a doting owner.




Moving forward and this came into the Yat Phone today, not smiling now yer fuckers are you. Merry Christmas, don't make me laugh. Try not to wince or be offended, they were spoilt rotten and one is on route to us here at Yat Rock.



I'll be back out a couple of times this week and try not to fall in-promise.


Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 9 December 2017

Burn Him

Burn him at the stake, flay the skin from his bones. Putting him on a ducking stool, the list could go on and on. For Des Taylor as many will be aware has committed the crime of the century, by taking some Grayling home for his tea. Now Des is quite a rotund kind of chap, it surprises me he took so few.

Is it right or is it wrong? I'm not overly fussed either way, but it's the sheer rage of the angling fraternity online that has made me chuckle. One comment raised a wry smile " Given that his an ambassador for the BS, he shouldn't be posting up pics of dead Grayling  his having for his tea". Now forgive me, but being an ambassador for a small single species group does not elevate you towards being an angling deity. Imagine if he posted online some Barbel that he caught and placed in a keep net. The inter web thingy would break.

You can imagine an angry internet angler calling to his wife.

"Beryl, Beryl, Des Taylor has really done it this time, he has posted a photo with some Boris in a keep net, I'm about to vent my spleen here goes."

All the while Beryl looks at you and thinks "I can't believe I married such a cunt". Yes she really is. Has no one ever laid on with a live minnow for Perch? Rigged up a live Roach for Pike. I honestly feel the anger is just the lemming like mentality, the need to belong with like minded souls and feel good about "doing something."

About ten years ago John Bailey gave a talk about Grayling fishing in Czechoslovakia at the Barbel Society show. Czech anglers cut off the dorsal fin and preserve them, then put them on show in a frame. Not a soul that day raised an eyebrow as the photos came up on the big screen. Of course things may have changed over the years. But again social media then was not so prevalent. If the same talk was given today, well fire and brimstone from the FB brigade may prevail, who really should fish more. You know get out and fish and live and let live, you know who you are. Take a look at yourselves. 

Na give him a break lads for fucks sake, stop being so precious.  


Yumm



I got out last weekend with the new set up, not really what I had in mind. More small Pike that were hitting the slider. More fish missed the lure too, manged to raise one decent fish that had a look and skulked off, not to be seen for the rest of the day. Good fun all the same, always is. Highlight was watching two Common Buzzards floating around and that piercing call, great to see and hear. I just need to find some proper Pike.



THE ASHES.

How many expletives can I fit into one blog entry? Lot's, but it's shite really it really is. The bastards give you over night hope, then let you down again and again. It's not looking good.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Sunday, 26 November 2017

Doppelgangers of the Angling World Part XXXV

Without further ado I'll slip in another one of these. Below we have Mr. Magoo taking a short break from bumping into all and sundry. Am enjoyable day afloat it seems for this actor who sadly never won an Oscar. And in my opinion even to this day still does not get the recognition he deserves for his theatrical efforts.   



And below we have Mr. Jon Shoreman, seemingly lecturing Gruff about the three missed runs recently on Chew Valley. Yeah three on Chew Valley of all places, fuck me mate what a venue to balls up on. Still it will turn into a car park soon so I'm led to understand, so you can get back on the river with me. A win, win don't you think?


Treated myself this week to a new set up. A Fooler from Lumby that now has a Curado 201 K sitting on it. I've been waiting for this reel to land in the UK, to avoid those extortionate import charges from the US. It seems nice and sturdy, just need to spool it up.

I don't tend to throw many large lures, but fancied a change. In the hope of stepping the lure size up I'll get among some decent Pike in the next few weeks while out in the boat.  



THE ASHES.

Well it's not really going to plan at present, we are not batting well at all. Cook, fuck me he looks like a startled rabbit . Can't play for toffee at the crease and  these late nights and early mornings are taking it's toll on me. If my dear old Nan was alive I'm sure she would say " What have you been up to boy, your eyes look like piss holes in the snow". She would not be wrong though! Let's hope we pull out finger out and get better, as we need too.


Be Lucky

Monty D

Sunday, 19 November 2017

The "C" Word

No not that word, it's a Sunday and standards have to be kept to some extent even here at Yat Rock! Christmas yes it's on the horizon again like it or not, but I'll come back to that at the end.

My favourite time of the year to be on the river is now. You have to force yourself at times to leave a warm bed and venture out. But it is always worth it, just to feel alive. I've an itch that needs to be scratched concerning a stretch of river that to me should hold good Perch.

We the club members refer to it as "Dead Men's Arms", its a spooky old place if you have a fertile imagination. Carl and myself were discussing it a few days ago and we both have the same feel for the place. You walk around a mile or so upstream and cross through a thicket and then silence, as if the whole world is muffled.

No birdsong at all, no wildlife stirs it's just plain odd. Every step you make is magnified, like little shock waves on the ground. Trees tower over you, glowering as if you are not welcome. It may seem daft, but I'm constantly looking over my shoulder, looking for something that is not there. But for some reason, it appeals to me.





Recently I've been spending some time up here, it's a feeling you get for a stretch of water. As if you have to be proved right and that your not chasing shadows. Last winter was a failure in that it was only small Pike that showed and not one Perch. This one has set the ball rolling though for this season, not big a mid two pound fish. But I'm totally convinced it will do me a good Perch, if I fish it right. 

The crank baits have been fished differently of late, a slimmer profile lure also. As an angler I'm not driven or really focused, much preferring to just fish. But stubborn and head strong may be my forte and I'll keep going back to this place. It will do me a good one this season of that I'm sure.



The Ashes start next week, so long nights beckon tuning in to TMS. Sticking my neck out here I'm going for a series win for England 3-1. Mr. Lumb will be a bundle of nerves next week, but he has ordered two extra lumps of coal to see him through the wee small hours. We get through Brisbane unscathed then it's ours! 




Oh yeah Christmas and advent calendars. Now next year I'll be 48 but my dear old Mum has already sent me mine. Laugh if you want, but every morning a window will be opened.

But this week i chanced upon an article concerning this below. Yep it's a sex toy advent calendar, now when opening window 24 a nativity scene is a show stopper. Or even a pissed up Farther Christmas who has stacked his sledge into young Alex'es house. Oh and Alex you want the latest games consul for how much? Kev mate send him out to work, cheeky little sod.

But this, well it's just plain wrong! Is nothing sacred these days? You open window 24 and find a butt plug. Yeah nothing screams Christmas to me like a butt plug. Sorry you can shove this idea right up your arse!     




Be Lucky

Monty D

Friday, 10 November 2017

Don't Take It Personal Gruff

Gruff,

Mate, it's not you but them. We can all see what an all round good guy/beast you are. John Lewis missed a real trick here when they left you out.

A cuddly monster or the real thing? You Gruff a master of Chew Valley, slayer of Hampshire Avon twenty's, though most caught out of season. But then who are we to point a finger about Pike angling stroke puling. For who among our number has not bent the rules, yes you KCI in particular! The Sussex PAC are still after your blood  mate, but damn your good. Leave only foot prints and lembas bread my friend.

No John Lewis screwed right up Gruff. You are the hero, the character that children know the world over, not this impostor!





Keep the faith mate, and I'll look forward to sitting on your knee again soon, in a totally non grooming way.


Be Lucky

Monty D