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


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

Saturday, 28 October 2017

Angry Cloud

Gruff and I went out recently on a large ressie and knocked out a few fish, nothing special but enjoyable none the less.

But is there an angry demon with a gaping maw in this photo, chasing the other clouds across the sky or have i been toking to hard again?

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 7 October 2017

Perch Hole

Perch Hole that evokes a picture in my head for all the wrong reasons, as in fifteen years I've never had a Perch from here. The name comes from one of the older club members who sadly passed away a few years back.

Now "Old Man Chris" as I called him, whenever we met regaled me with tales of the huge Perch up to two pounds he caught from here in the 1970's . I've caught most other species from this pool except Perch, it's odd really.

"Old Man Chris" lived and breathed this river, he was on it seven days a week. Not always fishing, but bank walking. He was a local man, lived alone, never married and I guess looked to other anglers for company. He was eccentric, a real Bertie Wooster character and a man that every time we met made me smile. He was for ever chiding me for my inappropriate language in fact he used to wince at my tern of phrase.

Last night checking the weather forecast had me quickly change  the choice of venue, in that the wind was gusty and those little Perch plucks would be hard to feel. So a wooded area of river was chosen.

The first hour nothing, so just looking to get get a bend in the rod a long walk up to the infamous Perch Hole was made at least i'd catch some jacks as they always oblige. Sliding down the bank and getting comfortable I clipped on a Wiggle Wart, cast to the far side and started a very slow retrieve. Half way across it stopped, now fishing crank baits if it's not behaving normally, then strike as something has happened.

Rod back and I thought " Yeah a Jack first cast, so predictable" Then I caught a glimpse of the tiger like stripes. Now it matters not how many Perch I've caught over three pounds in weight, the sight of a good 'un always gets the heart racing.

Bullied into the net and a little fist pump. An old looking fish, but very welcome that tipped the scales at 3.4lb. The best one for some considerable time, I was pleased but at the same time shocked. Why today after all these years, your first Perch from here and it went over the magic three pound mark? I only fished here in the hope of a Jack or two and to get out of the wind in order to work my lures effectively.

I nicked another over two pounds and the usual Jacks, that may be a pain to some when targeting Perch, but not me. Always happy to get the rod bent in the hard cobalt conditions of winter. I would not mind locking horns with what ever had grabbed this little fella though.

Funny old game this fishing lark, you just never know. I'm sure "Old Man Chris" will be looking down and would love to say "Told you so Jason".

Cheers Chris.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Sunday, 24 September 2017

Things To Do When Your Pissed

A little tip here from me, when your pissed up you may do the following.

1.Eat a kebab with extra chilli sauce.

 2.You may sleep with someone and wake up the next day and think who are you? But it's all good as you were pissed.

3. Send texts of a lewd nature to your wife, but in error you send them to your Mum, this happened to my younger brother the dope.

4. Buy tackle online and when it arrives you do not have a clue as to what you have ordered.

I could go on, as all the above are OK because your were pissed, well not the text message to your Mum fuck me!

But do not come back from a golf society day, well oiled as you had won. Then you show your short game to the wife, while she is watching "Strictly".

A chip that went eschew, smashed into the television resulting in this.

That led to this....

Denise "You total an utter prick, when your sober you, yes you are paying for a new one"
Me " Yeah sorry babe, feel a right plank."

So the next day I went online and this now hangs on the wall.

A bloody expensive piss up after golf that was. And to rub salt into the wounds I hardly watch the fucking thing.

 Off to Grafham Water next week with Gruff, so popped down to Farlows in the week while at work. I had a gift voucher left over from last Christmas, good job I did as this little lot would have set me back nearly seventy pound.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 16 September 2017

When You Take Mates Fishing

Do you not just hate it? That pressure of a guest on your club water, the sheer dread of blanking when they have driven around the M25 to be bored senseless by me. Recently Karl popped over from Kent for a day on a local beat.

Now this lad loves his JDM gear and he can fish too. We looked at a stretch of water I'm hoping to organise a little charity bash on in November. But after an hour we moved, he was not "feeling it". It's not looking good at present, needs a flush through, but the potential is their. Carl, the local Carl and possibly the only Corbyn fan in Surrey recently took a nice 3.6 Perch with two back up high 2's in a couple of hours. Shame the fuckers an out and out "Wolfie". God we clash over our politics, but do not fall out and that in itself speaks volumes.

But Karl wanted to move, his your guest so you do it. It proved a good move as he knocked out some sprightly Jacks and a couple of Chub, the largest Chub measured (yep he is from Hungary) 50Cm. Silly bugger has the photo's on his camera and has not sent them on.

I chipped in with a Jack and two small Chub of around two pound or so. I've fished with a few lads from Eastern Europe in the last three years and it's interesting how they go about lure fishing. I've learnt loads, but clearly not enough.

But then it went a little pear shaped.

Karl" Let's have a throw with your new Megabass"
Me  "Yeah here you go mate"

Rod swept back, whoosh a lure in the tree and this backlash that took the daft bugger half an hour to pick out. I've never had one that bad-honest, thanks mate. On a very serious note I could  never be an angling guide the sheer pressure you must be under? To hide your earnings from the Tax Man, must be arduous and yes you know who you are.

I've not looked on Fatwa for ages, but I received t this text into the Yat Phone recently.

A thread entitled "Tips For Cabbages, have a look Monty"

Now this is not politically correct, but a lad was asking about the above. My first thought was..... You came to the right forum mate, the place is awash with the fuckers! Don't shoot the messenger I'm not the only one who laughed!

If this comes around again, go see it.

Last weekend Denise and I went to the Wyndham Theatre to watch Audra McDonald perform as Billie Holliday in Lady Day at Emmerson's Bar and Grill.

Based on a true story, four months  before her death in 1959. It's set in a bar that "Lady Day" walked into blind drunk with her dog, then she simply staggers out again after singing four songs in front of nine people. But you the audience, get to see "Lady Day" tell her story with artistic licence, courtesy of the scriptwriters in how she would liked to have been remembered, for all her faults. And god knows we all have them.

It is in parts funny, raw and moving. And if you close your eyes the magnificent Audra Mcdonald really could be Lady Day. Please go see it, if you have the chance. To hear Strange Fruit live, moved Denise to tears.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 2 September 2017

The Bane of my Life

Recently Gruff and myself as well as a few others have been out afloat on a couple of large reservoirs. And it has been double hard, first Bewl and then Weirwood last weekend. Bewl was OK as we boated a few fish, none big but sport is sport.

Last weekend was a tough as old boots, in that Weirwood had an algae bloom, it was so green it would not have looked out of place sloshed all over a "Double, Double" with chilli vinegar and black pepper.

I think a handful of fish came to the boat among twenty anglers. The finder on our boat was showing fish from nine feet down, all the way until thirty six feet. But apart from Gruff losing a decent Perch that was as good as it got to our boat. But it's a good crack, Gruff and I get on. That's important if your in a boat all day with someone, fuck me he needs a Knighthood to put up with me! Imagine sharing a boat with Ray Winstone off his face and then you get me, peas in a pod.

Then I moved back onto our local rivers. Been doing a little of bit of thinking about the lack of Perch last season. Early last year, my goal was to fish crankbaits more or less for the full nine month term. Give or take the odd sabbatical, just to scratch an itch. On here it's been mentioned over and over it's a method that I enjoy most.

But, this method looking back is a dinner bell to every Jack in the river. May as well turn up, wack up a fluorescent sign on the river bank that reads " Hey Pike, Piss Monty off, all you can eat for a jacks".

So a little change of plan, switch to and whisper it, use once more S@@t P@@@@@@s. Sure I'm taking the piss, but to do this I needed another rod. So I bought very recently another baitcasting number from my mate Karl.

Armed with just a few shads and sticks, I've been having a few more Perch again. All small, the three pound fish from a few years back may have died away. Pointless fishing worms (spit), until the winter as I know the Crayfish are rampaging  with aplomb, turning grown men to jelly. Still plenty of Jacks, but's it's got my mind ticking over as to how to adapt, complacent most defiantly. As we have been royally spoilt with cracking Perch fishing over time. Perhaps I'll find some more good ones as the season moves on?

Right the bane of my fucking life, this lot. Not just these, but the others that breed like rats in the kitchen at home. Are all women as bad as my wife. I like a bit of Hummus, some olives and a flat bread as a light snack. You finish the pot and throw it in the bin and then this.....

Denise" Don't throw that away Jase, it may come in handy"
Me "What are you fucking sure?"
Denise" Give it here I'll wash it up"

Now the bottom cupboard is where these bastards live. Now you know what ever size box you are looking for, you will not find the correct size lid, am I right or am I right? Over the years, they scheme, move about in the cupboard at night.

Last week I walked up to the said cupboard and heard......... "Don't going into the light Monty, don't go into the light" I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of some fat medium from an 80's horror movie.

I crept up to the cupboard door and could hear a low rumbling sound, like a mini avalanche. Opened it up and was swamped up to my fucking knees in plastic. And she said.....

"That must be you, it never happens when I open it"

Women eh?

Be Lucky

Monty D