Monday, 20 November 2017

Warwickshire Avon – Mavericks and Microorganisms

I had planned to fish with Sam for some Chub but he woke up Saturday morning having overnight had been properly been hit by a virus. His temperature over 40 degrees that wasn’t coming down with Calpol, heart rate racing. He was knocked for six.

The Wife had a chat with 111, next minute he is in Warwick hospital for 5 hours. Eventually they were happy with him to go home, so back late straight to bed.


So I didn’t know what to do Sunday morning with the partner in crime out of action so with some decent Perch turning up a one of my clubs waters it was lure in hand to try and find one or two.

Now the river is low, very low, clear, very clear so I didn’t expect much, a small tiny Jack was about the only action and that dropped off the hook, but you know what, sometimes it’s just nice to be out when everyone else is tucked up in bed.

Sam after 12 hours kip, was back to normal, so all well for next weekend hopefully, the search for big Chub must continue.


Saturday, 18 November 2017

Warwickshire Avon - Psychosoma's and Philistines

I’ve never been able to properly absorb myself in a book, not sure why, maybe I just haven’t got one of those brains. To be honest, I find it a pain in the backside because the Wife is the total opposite and sometimes she is that captivated and engrossed she just cannot put the book down.

I really can see the appeal….

You see as a must needed solitude seeker, it could we be another addition to my armoury. As I’ve said many time before, with rod in hand my mind ends up elsewhere,

as my thoughts switch to fish not to today….

Music rather than print is very very different for me, in-fact sometimes especially some of ambient stuff I listen to, I’m that in to it, I sort of have an out-of-body experience, basically I’m that away from it sometimes it’s acting like a sleep substitute .


However, a case can be made for “no music”, where silence would be your best companion. Music is a physical stimulus after all, so listening to it means a constant input from one of your physical senses. For most, music could help in the initial relaxation, it can also be a constant pull bringing your attention to the physical dimension and as a consequence making your astral body or psychosoma take off harder.

Energies are the mechanism to evoke and interact with extraphysical entities. So the music will tend to create a matching extraphysical energy environment. This process is usually unconscious, but it can affect the quality of your out-of-body experience. I don’t have that problem, hence probably why I’ve been a lover, producer and DJ of electronic music ever since I discovered it nudges my neurons.

Decent cosseting and comfortable wireless and noise cancelling headphones are the key (I use Plantronics BackBeat Pro’s), you really do need the right hardware as it can lead to success or failure.

Give it a bash, I’ve never looked back….

Now talking of solitude seeking, here the river appears asleep, so feeble is the current, species here many, sanctuary in abundance. For the fisherman it’s a case of double dipping, so for this dawn short session it was meat on one rod, dead or worm on the other,



Sit back and wait as it’s a guess what will turn up and that’s what keeps me coming back….

I couldn't believe how bad the river looked mind you, ridiculously low and a little bb float could have happily sat there holding station, it was static. Loads of leaves sat on the surface too, hmmm, not good.

After an hour and a bit of motionless everything bar a tiny perch I decided to upticks and venture to an area with a little more oxygen and it was a move worth making. With a few minutes of deadbait out a fish picked it up and was taking line.

Felt a reasonable fish too and after a couple of abated runs it was in the net.

A nice Zander of 7lb 6oz and a few more points to the tally.

A proper nice dark fish with a pretty big head, it's certainly got a lot of growing to do.


Another hour, without even a nibble and with the rain coming down I called it a day.

Monday, 13 November 2017

Warwickshire Avon – Otters and Oneirocriticism

The race had started, the hill mimicked Cooper’s Hill Cheese Rolling and Wake, but in this race an out of control horse box and Labrador nudging a field mouse were neck and neck, until a mole hill upset the house boxes chassis, causing it to overturn.

The dog the victor...

Yeap I’d been at the Stilton again courtesy of some good friends of ours who laid on another fantastic Sunday roast.

Now as someone who experiences some very vivid dreams from time to time, usually curiously of the blue veined stuff, I do like to do some research to try and interpret my subconscious mind.

To dream that you are climbing a hill signifies your struggles in achieving a goal. You need to focus your energies on the prize. To dream that you are standing on top of a hill suggests that you have succeeded in your endeavours and that you have the necessary resources to complete the task at hand.


Dreaming that you are going down a hill means that things are not going your way. You are experiencing some setbacks. Alternatively, the dream signifies regression or repressed thoughts.

To see a hill in your dream symbolizes challenges or obstacles that you will confront in the near future. Alternatively, the hill may represent your desire to escape from your current situation. Dreaming of rolling hills refer to life's ups and downs.

But then there’s the mouse which apparently indicates that you are spending too much time dwelling on minor problems and insignificant matters.

Hmmmm, to be honest, not far off a couple of things that have happened this week that did fit the interpretation. I even relayed the dream to the Wife who’d been tossing and turning because of the ridiculously huge winter duvet that was preventing her from sleeping.

Yeap, it’s coming, hopefully as quickly as it was put on….


So I need to start looking up the hill rather than down it and reach that peak, that for me, fishing related anyway is a Warwickshire Avon, 5lb Chub.

Up till now they have eluded me, and despite catching numerous 4lber’s up to but not exceeding 4lb 13oz I’ve still not got that monkey off my back.

Winter on the way though and the Chub are getting fat so I’m going to give them another bash, I’ve an area in mind where I know they reside (They’ve come out in matches) but before I fish there it’s down to pastures well known to me.

You see this part of the Warwickshire Avon is feature filled and has a good chub population, one memorable session I’d had four bites and banked 4, 4lbers.


I got to the banker swim and as I was baiting up (lobworms as there are some clonking Perch here too) I heard and saw a disturbance in the margins, then the wake moves from left to right and an otter pops his head out

Bold as brass….

Half an hour on in had thought about moving on, but the tip whacked over and a Chub was on. I like using balanced tackle for Chub and it was giving the 1.2TC TFG River and Stream rod a decent work out. It’s a lovely light blank so from roving from swim to swim it’s ideal.

It tried and failed to get under some far bank cover and it was landed.

3lb 6oz’s….


Working my way down the available swims a couple of chublets were caught and then on to a swim that usually has visibly feeding Barbel. It’s quite elevated and bites are quick from Chub as they are usually just off the flow in an area of slack picking over the food stuffs that come their way.

No sooner as the lobs settle the rod whoops over. This was a much smaller fish that obviously had been having a tough life with it all as it was missing a huge portion of its flanks right down to the bone. It looked quite a recent wound by the looks of it too, probably escaping the clutches of said otter.

For this time of year it was underweight, so will it see out the depths of the winter, maybe not.


As soon as the sun came up the clear water was evident the fishing was much tougher, a couple more chublets, a few small Perch and a few missed bites it was time to head home.

My exposed pinkies and the biting wind, it was becoming a little unpleasant.

Saturday, 11 November 2017

Warwickshire Avon – Panjandrums and Pollywogs

It did make me laugh the other day a teacher quit his job after he couldn’t cope even after the first term, you see the 4 years at University didn’t tell him that possibly he would have to work till 6.30pm sometimes, yes,

6.30pm I tell you !!!!, madness…

Eddie Ledsham left teaching in tears after just one term in the classroom, blaming 'impossible hours' and unrealistic targets. The 22 year-old, from Wallasey, Merseyside, filmed himself moaning and said it had become 'damaging to his emotional and psychological well-being'. It all came as a shock to him apparently….wow, what a generation we’re in,

first world problems and all that....


I’d love to know what his parents thought about his toys out the pram and the huge dept he’s left them with. The thing is there is no doubt teaching ain’t an easy profession but welcome to the real world, it’s tough out there, he has received obscene amount of press coverage to be honest, but then any sort of rant especially one that goes ‘viral’ does get lots of attention.

My Dad passed the work ethic on to me and many of my generation are of the same mind, so where did it go wrong I wonder because an easy life seems to be very much the norm for many millennials.

I hate the term 'Generation Snowflake' but it certainly fits....

We as a family up sticks and emigrated to South Africa in to the unknown for two and a half years when I was eight because of the work situation in the UK, that’s in a time of no internet, emails and mobile phones, in fact most of communication was done by airmail such was the cost of making phone calls, and it was out first time ever out of the country.


I actually still remember when we got to Heathrow, all our belongings on two trolleys, the passports and some dosh seemingly left behind in a briefcase by accident, luckily all recovered as my panic stricken Dad looked like he was heading towards a heart attack.

From my own point of view I reckon it’s the demise of conkers in schools and the banning of British Bulldog, too much mollycoddling going on you see, just imagine playing rugby in the snow these days, wouldn’t happen, forgot ones PE kit, vest and pants please, hmm yeah things definitely different in my day.

Maybe ‘Eddie’ wouldn’t have been such a tart over it all, if he was conditioned a little better....


I’ve been watching series 2 of Stranger Things on Netflix where I’m on the Pollywog episode where Dustin finds and unusual creature in his garbage and decides to look after it and after sneaking it in the house in his homemade Ghostbusters trap. Watching the series really brought back the 1980’s to me, the movies, the music, the Bmx’s, break dancing on bits of cardboard, and the simpler life especially for kids where it’s now dominated by having to conform to Facebook, Instagram and Snapchat.

Looking back over ones childhood years where I went through a phase of making dens, setting fire to stuff, messing around with CB radios and illegal amplifiers, riding my BMX like a loon and also fishing. You see I used to ride with all the tackle strapped to my bike down to Packington Somers most weekends to try and catch some fish. Usually catapults were involved because of the lack of fish action and climbing trees to retrieve lost floats, and yes I did fall in, just don’t mention the quarry trespassing, even I don’t know how I manage to escape from that in one piece.

All good stuff, what being a kid is all about, sometimes you just need to get dirt under your fingernails and do what kids are meant to do.


I had to move out before I turned 23, stand on my own two feet, like the old man did. It’s something I’ll try and instil in to my kids, Ok Ben has special needs but even he knows that Dad goes out to work during the week to put the food on the table and keep the fridge full and even he has his choirs to do. That’s why it’s encouraging to see Sam properly taking to fishing and he doesn’t mind getting mucky and stung by nettles as a side effect of the pastime of hours.

The other day, wellies full of sea water, socks soaking wet, he just got on with it….

It makes me happy, it really does….


So this session was down at the deep bit on the Warwickshire Avon where I’d lost a decent Zander the other day, Sam was with me this time though and wanted to catch a Pike, so with two rods on alarms doing their thing on the next peg, Sam was using a lure rod, not only to practice his casting but to try and tempt a Pike on a replicant.

When we got there the river looked up a little but still very clear, umbrella out, rods up and out, cup of tea then it was to the adjacent swim with the lure.

Within the first cast we had a small Pike that took it on the drop and Sam landed it for himself, not much doing there for a little while but then a run on the deadbait.

At first I thought it was a Zander the way its head was nodding but then it was coming towards me and staying low. A lean Pike around 5lb or so was quick landed, bait back out.



Soon after another bite and a similar looking fish, this was a much chunkier Pike, small in length but it had be feeding nicely looking at his stomach. Nothing else on the lure and one more Pike banked before a missed run called time on the session. Certainly a well worth while exercise as I showed him how to handle Pike and how to unhook them.

"Wow, look at all those teeth, that's why they are such a great predator"

Weirdly no Zander today, but they just might not be in the area at all.


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