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Friday 10th April 2009 - Are Metrologists "white mice"?


OwdTrout

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Easter - the first long weekend of the season. With the long weekend coming up plans had to be made, kit has to be replaced. Unusually for me I looked up the weather forecast. I say unusually as for many years I have known that the weather can not be forecast with accuracy. Past experience has taught me that the Met Office can not be trusted, so, on the recommendation of Alan Roe, I consulted Met Check. Friday for my post code area it said it would rain all day, starting between 06:59 and 07:00. "Hmm" I thought, "This is more like a weather forecast". Based on that I made today my prep day for the rest of the weekend.

 

By 11:30 the promised rain had not turned up. I'm wasting a good day here I may as well get some fishing done. Off to the Irwell I plodded. Conditions looked good. Overcast, warm, falling and clearing river. This could be good. Not a rise in sight. Some olives were hatching but not many, one spinner floated by. Well it has warmed up considerably so they might take a nymph. Half an hour later, not a touch.

 

Then not 4 yards away a small fish rose. Time for the dry Fry. A well used CdC and Elk Upright, went on. Meanwhile another brownie had started to rise a yard closer. The second fish was much larger I noticed when he rose again.

 

To cover either of these fish I needed to cast then make an aerial mend upstream to let the fly drift naturally. The fly drifted down the fish rose, ate it, and I lifted the rod. Exactly on the stroke of 7am! At least by the Met Check clock. It must have been 7 am as right at that moment it started to rain. Britain, all your clocks are wrong! Put them back 6 1/2 hours immediately, then the weather forecast will be right!

 

Back to the important stuff. The fish fought hard, leapt once and came to hand nicely. Before returning him I measured him against my rod, with the fork of his tail at the foot of the real seat he came to 1/4 inch past the lettering. That made him 14 inches dead. (Well not dead, I returned him alive, taking care to revive him well). Not bad at all, and not the biggest I have had from there. With lots of river dropping on me from above I decided to call it a day. This afternoon I have to go to the outdoor shop for some bits and pieces.

 

All that remains is to ask: "are meteorologists just protrusions into our reality of of hugely intelligent, pan dimensional, beings entertaining themselves by winding us up?" If you don't have a clue what I am talking about look up "White Mice" in H2G2.

 

The day before the last Chatsworth show I slipped and broke my coccyx. Now, if the weather is about to change, it lets me know. Maybe I should offer this facility to the various weather forecasting institutions then my arse could work along side all the arseholes making such a mess of the weather forecast. Who are the highest paid civil servants? Met Office weather presenters. Why?

 

Right back to the packing then off to the shop.

 

Cheers

OT

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