Every cloud has a silver lining. Yesterday I blanked, but if you have to blank (and on occasion we all do), then it's much more amenable to blank in excellent company (even if they all catch, as yesterday they did!) than to blank on one's own. I love the image of the lonely, taciturn figure who choses to fish on his own, happy with his own company and putting distance between his troubles by stepping out into the countryside with just a rod, reel and meagre provisions for company, but the reality is that my preference is always to fish with good friends, and I rarely set out alone. Perhaps all of that is why my blanking at yesterday's final Thurnby Church Anglers club outing of 2015 didn't leave me bitter, but, rather, able to reflect on the mistakes that I made in a sanguine state of mind while remembering the whole experience as a "good day".
We fished the lake that I had done a recce of last month, and, strangely, my thoroughness in having an exploratory session proved to be a major part of my undoing. Last month, on a much hotter, sunnier day, the carp had only responded to method-fished pellets (which I had switched to in the last hour after a day of only catching small "bits" on float-fished maggot and caught three carp), and my compatriots had also fared best on method and pellets. The wind was swirling and the rain falling as I packed my gear into Greg's van, and in an effort to leave as much of my tackle clean and not in need of drying out I decided only to take a quivertip rod, small baitrunner reel and all the necessaries for fishing the method (big mistake ....... huge).
The first indication that I was possibly heading down a blind alley was when Greg, fishing light and float-fishing maggots first lost, and then landed two carp (including this leather). I chose to ignore whatever lessons I should have deduced from that, convinced that my method ball of feed and the drilled pellet hair rigged and hidden inside the groundbait would prove as irresistible to the carp as it had three week's previously. It didn't.
Roger was the next into a carp, again on maggot, and again float-fishing in the margins. He was using a new centre pin for the first time, and so the fight (which lasted several minutes) was an extra pleasure for him. Eventual pressure saw the fish succumb, and another wet and windswept angler had beaten the appalling conditions and had a smile on his face.
It would be wrong to give the impression that the fishing was easy. Carp were being caught, but only very sporadically and not in numbers. The rain at times beat down, the wind didn't make watching a float (or quivertip) easy, and with the exception of Mick (who managed seven carp on swimfed maggot and a 1.5 pound hooklink!) no-one was catching prolifically and long spells of inactivity punctuated the morale raising sight of one of our number connected to a fish.
Once again our friend Roy, an angler from Yorkshire who we've got to know through the Christian Anglers UK website, had joined us, and he was the second most successful fisherman on the day, with four carp to show for his efforts, and the rain, slow fishing and long car journey hasn't deterred him, as he's already e-mailed me to say how much he's looking forward to next year's program of outings. A mad keen angler, it's always a pleasure when we see him arrive at the fishery and greet us in his archetypally White Rose county accent.
Wayne was the last angler to join the fun in terms of carp, landing a really attractive almost fully scaled mirror on- you've guessed it- float-fished maggot. By now, I really should have taken the hint and begged, borrowed and stolen tackle from the others and set up a float rig, but stubbornly I persisted, hoping against hope that an odd carp would turn up, take the bait and vindicate my decision. It didn't- I read the water wrong, had made the mistake of pre-judging what would be the best approach, was too slow to adapt and paid the price. It's happened before, but I remain slow to learn!
As the afternoon wore on, and other responsibilities called, tackle was packed up and goodbyes said. Mick had managed seven carp, Roy four, Greg two, and Roger and Wayne one apiece. Carl and Pete had failed to catch carp, but Carl had landed one tench and Pete a succession of perch, while my bait, regularly recast, had remained untouched all day. Despite being a grueller, the day was universally enjoyed by all the club members, and the formation and success of the club has been the highlight of my angling year (even coming above the captures this year of my personal best perch and largest ever river pike ). Since inception in March we've had seven trips and plans are already being drawn up for 2016.
I guess the conclusion is that while I may not be a particularly good angler I am a sociable one, and the epithet pleasure angler fits as a description of what I derive from fishing as well as my tribal affiliation within it. Rainsoaked, windswept and a blanker, but unbroken and unbowed and already planning my next session.
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