Perch PB and "it's a wrap" ...

When the Reverend EC Alston (who for a while held both the British tench and rudd records simultaneously) died in 1977 his obituary in The Times stated that "he will be remembered as one of the last great sporting parsons", and while fellow church minister Stewart Bloor and I may not quite be in the late Reverend Alston's league, we are trying to do our bit for the reputation of "revs who fish."

 

Today our fishing was a pleasing mixing of business with pleasure, as we fished a Shropshire Pool in the company of Dave, a cameraman and filmmaker for Christian Vision for Men (CVM). Stewart and I, along with a small group of helpers, formed UK Christian Anglers (www.christiananglers.co.uk) last year, and CVM approached us about working on a filming project which combined us fishing and talking about our faith. The weather was gloriously and mercifully sunny, and as the mist rose from the water at first light we knew we were going to be in for a good morning.

 

 

We shared a swim, which, as well as aiding the film-making process also ensured the conversation and banter was able to flow freely. Stewart opted to fish to an island with two carp rods, PVA bags and his favourite strawberry jam pop-ups, while I chose to floatfish with maggots under a 3bb reed waggler. My reel was one of my trusty centre pins.

 

 

Sport on the float was brisk, and I was soon into a succession of tiny perch and gudgeon, with the odd better perch, bream or roach punctuating the steady flow of greedy tiddlers. Stewart had to wait slightly longer, but his first fish, when it came, proved not to be the anticipated carp, but a plucky chub with a sweet tooth.

 

 

We did a number of bits to camera, answering questions about our own individual journeys to faith, the work of UK Christian Anglers and talking about fishing clubs run by churches (regular readers of this blog will know that my own church has its own thriving angling club), but when I was in full, expansive, loquacious conversational flow, Stewart's bite alarm intruded and he landed a welcome, but small common.

 

 

Stewart also added another chub, but the best, in true filming style, was saved till last. I needed to be back in Leicester, Dave the cameraman was travelling on to visit relatives and Stewart (who as well as his church and fishing commitments is chaplain to a professional football team) had a match to attend and footballing radio show to present, and so it was agreed that we would pack up at around 1pm. At 12:30 my float dipped, skidded along the surface and then buried, and my firm strike met solid resistance. I suspected a chub (it certainly wasn't a carp), but after a few short runs, and with the match rod taking on a nice battle curve, a monstrous perch broke the surface. Instantly I knew that if it made it to the net it would be a new PB, and it was with a deep sense of relief that I guided the fish into the net that Stewart capably wielded for me. The digital scales showed a weight of 2 pounds 5 ounces, the perfect end to what had been a wonderful morning. I suspect the finished film will show me grinning like an idiot as I removed the hook, but I really won't care .... some things are so good that they're worth a brief loss of dignity. "Lights, camera, action" .... we'll need to do it again sometime.

 

 

The (fishing) future's orange ...

The weather forecaster's gloomy predictions of rain, blustery winds and the occasional thunderstorm proved to be welcome in their inaccuracy as the morning sun rose over the lake. It was Friday, and the fact that it was "normally a work day" added to the pleasure for the non-retired anglers among the group from Thurnby Church Anglers as tackle was excitedly unloaded from cars and vans. The lake, which was new to all but one of us, looked pretty and was nicely secluded as we chose swims, with interesting but benign cloud patterns scudding across the sky.

 

 

I picked a nice pitch, lined with reeds and dotted with lilly pads, and dropped a float in on the edge of some pads about a rod length out. I had decided to have one of my "retro days", and so was sat on an old willow fishing basket that I'd picked up on e-bay and renovated and fishing an old school looking rod, centrepin reel and using a lovely scorched sarkandas reed waggler made by Ian Lewis. (Ian Lewis handmade floats). The lake contains tench, orfe, bream and crucians, and it wasn't long before I was playing my first fish to the net.

 

 

The fish turned out to be a golden orfe, my first ever of the species, and I went on to add a further half dozen, along with a number of bream and crucians. The largest orfe (which unfortunately remained unphotographed as Greg, our resident pro-photographer as well as fellow angler was wandering around the lake taking scenic shots at the time) would probably have tipped the scales at about 2 and a half pounds, and fought well on 4 lb line, 3 lb bottom and a size 18 spade end hook. Here's the fish which broke my orfe duck, a much smaller but no less handsome creature.

 

 

Greg in the next door swim was also soon into orfe, and around the lake rods started bending as anglers struck into fish. No-one blanked and although the fish tended to come in bursts, everyone was busy as floats dipped and buried, and the fish obliged.

 

 

My only disappointment (and it seems churlish after such a good day's fishing) was that I failed to catch a tench. Pete, Mick, Roy and Jez did all land tench, with Pete proving the "tench master" with three tincas coming to his net.

 

 

In addition to the golden orfe, tench and crucians, Wayne landed the only blue orfe of the day, a fish which when held in the light had a lovely iridescent violet sheen. The highlight of the day was being joined by Roy, who some of us have got to know on the christiananglers.co.uk website, and who drove all the way from Yorkshire to Leicestershire to join us. As well as catching tench and bream, he kept us amused with his chatter and showed us some of his innovative (often home designed and made) tackle solutions. A real gentleman, we hope he'll be able to join with us on future trips.

 

 

By mid afternoon it was time to pack up, as many of us had children returning from school, and real life chores and duties to pick up. However, it had been a wonderfully engrossing way to while away a few hours in beautiful surroundings and fishing for fish which, although not easy in the manner of many commercial carp, were obliging enough to put a smile on all of our faces. The formation of our church's fishing club has certainly proved to be a highlight of the year. I wonder where we'll go for our next adventure....?

 

 



Small perch concludes "summer of my discontent".

Time was, back when I was a boy, that I fished as many times in August as in the rest of the year put together. The long, lazy school holidays, with the exception of the week when our parents carted us off to huddle together shivering on a Devonshire beach for seven days, were almost entirely spent fishing, and for my two brothers and me, these were usually the most productive sessions of our angling year. Not so, nowadays. A fortnight somewhere exotic, and two teenage children to ferry around, along with the busyness of standard church life (with a wedding to conduct most Saturdays for "good measure") and getting any time to fish in August becomes a feat requiring steely determination and military precision.

This year, the usual challenges were compounded by a stomach bug that hit at an inopportune moment and prevented my son and I from joining our church fishing club's August trip. Here are a couple of photos of what we missed .... bankside banter and fishy fellowship on a beautiful and very exclusive estate lake:

 

 

I did manage one trip with rod and line, a very brief venture to the canal with Pete to spin for perch, but to add insult to injury I blanked, while Pete banked half a dozen perch and lost a pike. I also accompanied Greg on a carp fishing trip as a spectator, but in keeping with the way the month was developing (or not developing) he also failed to catch.

 

Today, four days into September I was determined that my luck would change, although the solitary small perch that deigned to take my spinner hardly signified a major upturn in my piscatorial fortunes. Dave, my fishing partner for the day, (yes, you've guessed it) blanked. We fished both a small stretch of river and a couple of spots on the canal, and admittedly both had a few follows and the odd nip or pluck that didn't convert into a properly hooked perch. Dave also "dropped one off" as he swung it towards the bank, but it was barely any larger than his silver spinner. I frequently changed lures, but all to no avail.

 

 

My perch did, however, acquire a significance greater than its modest size warranted, as it was the first fish I've caught on my new custom built spinning rod. The rod, built by Don Morse of Rattlesnake Rods in Florida, USA, features the innovative new Microwave guides and is an absolute delight to use, more like waving a wand than wielding a fishing rod, and while its smart graphics, abbreviated cork handle and custom camo wrap incorporated into the blank may not make me an expert angler they certainly help me to look like one.

 

 

The last few weeks haven't been the most illustrious of my angling life, but the joy of it all is that fishing memories are selective, and when 2015 turns into 2016 it won't be August's travails that I recall, but rather the double figure pike that Pete and I were catching in January and February and the Thurnby Church Anglers trips when my son and I weren't missing through illness and when fish were landed aplenty. (also not forgetting my near British record gudgeon caught in the Spring!)

September looks set to be a better month, too, with a club trip to a new lake and a filming session with Stewart Bloor to look forward to. In fishing, as in life and faith, we look ahead with hope and anticipation .......... let's face it, as a rather cheesy 90's band once informed us: "things can only get better" ......