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An opportunity for a couple of hours early morning fishing sent me to the Lambourn for the first time since last winter. The banks weren't as overgrown as I'd feared, with most winter swims fishable, although the water was pretty shallow in most places. Trotting with the centrepin is always great fun. I fished four swims, the first soon picking up a 4-ounce brownie. It was at the third and favourite swim, that apart from 11 minnows, I had my second bite. It was a good take and I could see a rather nice grayling - maybe a pound and a half say, doing the typical grayling thing of squirming like a demented eel in an effort to free itself. I hung on, and after a few seconds it stopped whirlygigging and started to kite in the current. It also adopted a banana shape making me think I'd foul-hooked it, making it even more imperative that I brought it in before the hook pulled. As I dragged it's unmoving self against the current I realised it was fairly hooked after all, at which point it resumed its initial mania and I lost it just in front of the net. Grr. With no more bites, I moved to to the final swim, but returned to the site of the missed grayling for the last 20 minutes or so. My last cast saved my day with a spunky 1lb 6oz trout which while I'd rather had been a grayling, was nonetheless most welcome. On netting I saw it had a very fresh gash in its flank, making me wonder if the pike that I've had take hooked fish before here, had a snap at some point in the fight.

I was pleasantly surprised to find I had the lake to myself for most of the evening considering it was still a shirt-sleeves 15 degrees an hour after dark. But there was a stillness and strange atmosphere and the light had an odd yellowish quality. Even the birds seemed quiet. A brown rat swam past my feet several times, a kingfisher flew across the water and the jumping fish regularly crashed through the surface while large patches of bubbles suggested much activity below. There was an intense feel in the air as if something fishy could happen at any moment. I pinged in some mixers, but they remained untouched. I tried a zig-rig for fish under the surface, but nothing. I switched to a lift-method float, two rod lengths out where the bulk of the bubbles were now appearing and had two mirrors and two commons, all around the 6lb mark. They fought like little devils - there was certainly something in the water tonight. In the last hour I missed strong bite after strong bite - carpy magic - or maybe the crayfish? Not a large haul by recent standards, but a mesmeric evening and great fun.

Two sessions spent in my favourite swim. With the temperature and air pressure having fallen, and the breeze and chance of rain up, I was hopeful the carp would be obliging. Largely they were. One popular consensus is that the carp shoal and swim round and round the island. This is borne out by the fish often coming in pulses of 15 minutes when the rod tip won't keep still, and more than taking the method feeder 'on the drop', before the rod goes back onto the rest. Then it quietens again and the bobbin hangs stubbornly still until the merry-go-round returns. I tried pinging a bed of pellets out to hold them in place when they did arrive, and maybe this worked to some degree, but maybe it didn't. I met Commons of 5lb 12, 8lb 5, 7lb 9, 7lb 12, 7lb, 6lb 6 & 4lb 4, plus Mirrors of 5lb 1, 3lb 12, 5lb 15, 4lb 14, 8lb 2, 3lb 6 & 5lb 6. One of the strongest bite on a 10-mil pellet/size 12 hook brought a half-pound Crucian (sorry, Chris!). Finickity biters? No that one. We all lose fish of course, but three times I suffered my old nemesis of having commercially-tied hook lengths snap between loop and hook on a take (I've learned always to test them between fish, yet the violence of a take seems to beat the 12lb b.s. links more often than you'd expect). I'd tie my own, but am fingers and thumbs tying hairs and loops. I also had a plastic connector separate mid-fight on top of the several fish that threw the hook, and the unmissable bites that I missed.

With the road to Willows and Alders being closed for repairs this week, my Tuesday evening fish needed a new location, so I cycled to Bellwood the night before for a recce. I've fished it twice before, once for a blank, and a few small roach, perch and bream on the other. It was a lovely evening and there were just two anglers, both set up for the night ahead. They were lovely guys and very generous with the information and tips for a novice like me. I repaid one by photographing him with the 20lb common he had in a retaining sack, the second of the carp he'd caught in the hour since he arrived. Come Tuesday afternoon however, and there were around 20 cars parked. I guess other members had had the same idea as me. There was only one swim left, close to the car and not one of the several I'd earmarked from the night before. It was around 30 degrees and free of all shade, and on the top of the water I could see maybe a dozen carp cruising. Wow. I pinged out some biscuits right on their noses, but they weren't bothered. It was just too hot. With no point trying to catch them on the surface, I decided to fish the margins, and dropped a method feeder to the left, and a light float and maggot to my right. I found that while the swim in front of me was soon around 10ft deep, the marginal shelf was more like 4ft, so I set the float for 6ft on a very slow sinking shot pattern and hoped to catch them on the drop and on the slope. Bites came in pulses, with roach of 5oz (1), 4oz (6), 1oz (1) and perch of 4oz (1), 2oz (4) and 1oz (4). The method feeder was not touched. I'd hoped that as evening drew on into dark and the temperature dropped a little, the carp might start checking out the margins, but if they did, as much as it's always fun to watch a star-light float as the stars come out and the bats swoop, they left my baits well alone. By the time I packed up there was only one angler left, but of the several that passed me on their way, most had not caught.

A nice mornings fishing. Lots of line bites, knocks and spells of fish playing with the feeder, and some rod-yanking takes that somehow failed to connect. The sum total was 3 mirrors of 5lb 2, 6lb 2 and 7lb 8, ending with a bream of 3lb 8 was probably about par.

Goodness me. I know carp aren't everyone's cup of tea, and some consider the gugle-eyed lake cows a nuisance when fishing for wilier harder to tempt species; but they are such good fun. In under three hours this evening, I had commons of 6lb 8, 3lb 12, 4lb 9 & 7lb 15 plus mirrors of 5lb 12, 8lb 10, 9lb 9, 9lb 2, 9lb 4 and 4lb 2 - ie 69lbs of fish! If I'd landed the three fish that slipped the hook mid-fight, or snagged some of the many hard takes that seemed impossible to miss, who knows what weight I could have managed. Reasons for such a haul? who knows - was it my 'new' bait, or long-awaited O-Level in watercraft? More likely I think it was the second day of strong northerly wind boosting the oxygen levels - to a fish they fought hard and even on the bank, flapped like demons, making 'selfies' pretty much impossible to take. Whatever it was, though the wind kept blowing, the switch flicked at 7:30pm and I caught no more and hardly had a touch for the remaining hour and a half. Carp, eh? Don't you just love 'em.

Summer Bank Holiday? Of course it was: there was a stiff cold north wind right in my face that had me back to the car firstly for my gilet and, half hour later, my thick coat. It was bloomin' cold. There was one other angler sat right opposite me. OK, so he had the wind on his back rather than full-facial, but how he sat there for three hours in his shorts I couldn't tell you. The fish hid as well. I didn't get a touch for three hours, then wondering how I could change my luck, saw that a ruddy great slug had climbed into my groundbait. Ah, surely a present from the carp gods. I found the biggest hook in the tackle box and pinged the thing out towards the edge of the lilies. There it sat for two hours. I did set a single tap at one point, but that was probably a greedy roach no bigger than the slug, or a carp chuckling at my desperate effort. To try and avoid a blank, in the last hour, I switched to a small float, one rod length out with the remnants of the maggots kindly donated to me by a packing-up angler last week. Phew, I lured seven perch, mainly tiny, to the bankside, but among the bites, one tugged away with a vengeance, which took me by surprise. But ine powerful lunge and it was over, up flopped a 4lb 2oz bream, staring at me, beaten, as I lowered in my net.

A sneaky 90 minutes fish on my local canal section. Spent the first 15 minutes loose feeding then in. Trotting braid on the centrepin, holding back a chunky loafer float was great fun, but I wasn't troubled by too many fish. As per normal, I lost more than I banked as they shook so violently to get off - I must get those micro-barb hooks, eh Chris. A couple of roach and a handful of dace (even if one was a clonker of 8 ounces or so), was scant return. But there was final cast excitement when the dace I was winding in was attacked from out of the bankside vegetation by a pike, it's long body giving me a flash of silver as it let eventually go. The dace was half the weight it could have been, it's back half had all but been torn off and the poor dace already departed for the great pikeless canal in the sky. I dangled the fishy remnant back in the water and sure enough, the pike immediately took it. The rod hooped over for a few seconds before the hook length gave and it made off with the other half of its breakfast.

Arrived early to find five cars already parked and the warming sight a whole family fishing from consecutive swims on the western bank. For the second session running, I hooked a carp within thirty seconds of my first cast, a mirror of exactly 10lbs, hard fighting but another candidate for the ugly fish and ugly angler awards. Within a couple of hours, alternating between an orange wafter and a Robon Red pellet, I'd caught commons of 5lb 13, 10lb 8 and 7lb 13 as well as a greedy 8-ounce bream. Then Willows did its thing and shut up shop. With the sun breaking through at last, I pinged in enough dog biscuits to feed off the coots and moorhens (the Canadas relievedly absent) while the ducks were chased off by the carp breaking the surface. I flung biscuits for an hour and in all that time and carpy commotion, my biscuity hook bait was mouthed only twice and immediately rejected. Fed up with this energetic form of fishing for no return, I set up a float road and spent the last hour stealthily exploring the margin for crucian, but having to make do with two roach, one maybe 6 ounces, the other about a hundredth of this.

Willows was busy as ever, and I chatted to a number of anglers on my way to one of the remaining swims. A few had come out, but one guy had been there since 8am and had not caught a thing - and now it was early 4. I chucked in a few balls of breadcrumbs mixed with pellets in the far margin opposite my narrowish swim then set up and cast out. Before I'd even got my seat set up, the rod was dragged across the bank and I held on for a 7lb 9 mirror - wow! Tonight was going to be the night. I had no more bites on the method feeder, short of one bringing in a 4-ox roach, foul hooked in the head. I switched to float fishing the near margin earlier than planned to drum up some action. Had a three perch, three more roach and a small bream. But I also had tench of 1lb 2 and 3lb, and as it darkened, two pretty crucians of 4 and 6 ounces, the smaller having recovered from having a big bite taken out of its back. As it got dark, my line got tangled around the end of the rod which required a head torch switched on to sort out, which probably sent any fish scampering away from the margins. When the same thing happened again ten minutes later, I took the hint and packed up. I'd seen the carp up on the surface on open water in the warmth of the evening sun, so I'm sure a pellet waggler, or a floating dog biscuit would have caught well, but I took my chance in the margins which on this occasion, did not pay off. Never mind.

I'm sorry readers, but it's Willows again. A rare Monday morning session, but took the day off for a funeral so sneaked in a 4-hour stint. Dull, overcast (the weather, not me) with a chill northerly breeze that had me running back to the car for a jacket - it could only be summer 2021. Despite the drop in air temp - or perhaps because of the drop in air temp?) the fish were quite active throughout. I had lots of liners, lots of jerky hits that came to nowt, and somehow missed some unmissable bites. I had one fish fall off the week, the first in some weeks since switching to Guru QM1 hooks (other hooks are available, but I tend to lose fish on them). In a short session, I was very happy with a 2lb 6 tench (that jumped clear out of the water mid-fight). a common of 4lb 14, mirrors of 5lb 4 and 7lb 5 plus a foul-hooked crucian of 4oz. Could have been more, but that's fishing.

Two long stints at my favourite lake (when it's playing ball) to test my theory that the carp swim round the central island in the morning, move to open waters in the afternoon and slink out to the margins for their tea. Friday: dry and with the lake to myself at 6:30am pinged the method feeder out towards the island. By 9. I'd had visits from commons of 7lb, 4lb 10 and 9lb 12, all on the same orange wafter. It was set to be a fab day and I held my smile even when fourteen Canada geese splash landed in my swim. Another bite followed and I dragged in a 2-ounce bream, hooked in the back. My next cast brought a similar bite and, amazingly, a similar sized bream hooked also hooked in the back! Then it all went quiet. I could not buy a bite so switched to float fished maggot for a bag of small bream, roach and perch. Saturday: on/off rain. Not a sausage for the first two hours, no matter what I tried. I remembered I had a bag of Robin Red pellets in the car, and as I brought them back past the guy who hadn't caught anything either, I joked they were 'magic beans' . I cast out and before I'd set the bobbin, the rod leapt up, taken by a 5lb 2 common. Magic or what! Within minutes a 3lb 8 common was flapping in my net and I knew I'd discovered the secret bait to unlock Willows. Ten minutes after that, the bait runner screamed, but soon the fish was flapping, beaten on the surface. I presumed it was a bream, but as it came in I could see it was golden; a stunning personal best crucian of 2lb 12. But that was the end of the fun, unless you count the 8-ounce bream that I thought was a twig when I wound it in. With the magic beans having lost their lustre, I switched to maggots close in and in the last hour had another 8-ounce bream, a feisty 1lb 4 common, 1lb 2 tench and a couple of handfuls of perch and roach. To end an overall disappointing two days, I got hit by a sudden drenching downpour on the way to the car.

Not a great success. My three preferred swims were already taken, but that's OK, I've done well previously from the one I chose. Tossed out the method feeder at the island, and threw pellets out over it, but though I had sporadic attention on the bobbin, nothing seemed to want to take it for real despite changing hook baits several times. Switched to and from float fished maggot over hemp and managed a meagre 1lb 4 tench, 5 bream around the 6-8oz mark and three roach. Nothing exciting until in the fading light when back on the feeder, I at last had a proper take and a 5lb mirror.

Regular readers will know that a week ago at Willows I achieved: (a) 6:45am til 11:30 - nothing (b) 11:30 - 2:30 - 5 carp. (c) 2:30 - 4:45. - Not even a nudge Following this, a revered and sagely angling guru wisely ordained that 'the knack is to 'ONLY be on the bank for (b) ! 4 hours at the 'right' time is better than 10 hours at the wrong...' Seven days later, with different bait and tactics, though I spent the first two hours before crossing the causeway to Willows, the scores on the doors were: (d) 6:45am til noon - a 2oz bream (e) noon - 2pm - commons of 6lb 8, 4lb 5, 6lb 9 and 8lb 15 (f) 2pm - 5pm - another 2oz bream. Sound familiar? To break the afternoon famine, I opened the big tin of hemp that had come with the generous bait basket that the Angling Trust people had sent me when I joined last year. I started pinging it in 2 rod-lengths out and within 10 minutes the water was absolutely fizzing with feeding bubbles. In panicky expectation, I started making up a float rod to substitute the method feeder. In my hurry I was all fingers and thumbs, spilling the split shot, dropping hooks, fumbling knots and getting the catapult caught around the reel while trying to multitask tackling up with the fast rate of hemp pinging. My first cast was aborted when I got caught up in overhead trees, then the line inexplicably birdnested meaning I had to break down and retackle. When I finally got out, with the surface was still frothing like a washing machine, the bites I got were hard and fast and I missed them all (apart from another 2-ounce bream), with pretty much every one ending up with me dragging in a severered branch of willow (how appropriate) or getting stuck on a snag. It was so frustrating that I declared my baited-up swim unfishable and returned to the less-stressy method feeder, hoping that by now the carp had swum around the central island and were back in my zone. Nope. Nothing. For the final half hour, I decided to ping the remainder of the hemp straight out and hand throw the feeder over the top. I didn't get the fizzing, but within 10 minutes the rod almost pulled in, and something angry was ripping yard after yard of line out towards open water. It was the best fight of the day, I didn't see the fish for ages, but eventually it came in - (just) a 5lb 5 common, surely the fly weight champion of carp. There was just enough time left to miss an 'unmissable' bite from the hemped-up patch. Driving away trying to absorb the lessons of the day, my car happened to pass that of said sagely angling guru who advised me that 'fish can get so excited by hemp that they wont eat anything else'. Hmm, that made sense, so perhaps the way forward is to lace the method feed mix with hemp, or certainly using it more sparingly than the pouchfuls I was flinging at them. Its all a learning curve. I'll tell you about it next week.

Well, that was a strange evening. Only just got into the carpark at 3.30 and walking to one of the only one of my preferred swims left, people seemed to be catching. In 6 hours I caught just the 6 fish. But they were tench of 3lb and 1lb 3, mirrors of 8lb, 16lb 10 and 4lb 8, plus right at the end in the virtual dark, a common of 15lb 9. So though I struggled for bites, I ended up with just under 50lb of fish! Funny old world. BTW the larger tench gave no fight whatsoever despite having the tail of a mermaid. Two other points of note: - I unhooked the largest mirror of both my own hook and another (maybe size 12) already in it's mouth - While playing the common in the almost dark, a bat flew into the end of my rod. -

With an afternoon off and a pint of maggots bored in the fridge, I took them to Hambridge for a quick session. Having been dry and sunny all day, the heavens opened as soon as I got bankside and left me soaked, making every bend down to toss in a few maggots in the swim an exercise in soggy bottomed unpleasantness. It got the fish feeding in order with a 1lb 2 brownie sandwiched between 4 small roach and 7 dace to a hunky 7 ounces. The last of the maggots coincided with a final lashing from the rain gods. This was my first expedition using braid (thanks, Chris) and apart from the biggest fish I hooked shaking himself off, everything else stuck, which was a big improvement on recent losses.

Ooh lovely - air pressure falling (just) below 1,000mb brought the prospect of hungry fish with easing stomachs. (a) 6:45am til 11:30 One bite. Missed it. Mixed it up - fished far, fished close, swapped baits, loose fed. Nothing. (b) 11:30 - 2:30 - 5 carp. All in pristine condition. 5lb, 7lb 8, 5lb 10, 5lb 2. 8lb 14 and a bream, 4oz. Could barely put the rod down without knocks or line bites. (c) 2:30 - 4:45. - Not even a nudge The knack of angling is catching in sessions (a) and (c), a skill that I clearly don't currently possess. I'm trying to get there through trial and error. It's frustrating, but such fun trying. What didn't help was the violent, 20 minute storm at the end of (b) that brought the air temperature down dramatically and maybe contributed to the impotency of (c)

After yesterday's slowish day at Willows, I decided while driving down Muddy Lane to try and make my recent luck change and turned right to Dobsons. My favourite swim was free, and with the forecast rain and lower air pressure after the previous week's heatwave, the omens were good. The fish thought so too, at least in the first few hours, when my method feeder was hit hard six times to my right. Whilst I was snapped twice, the other four bites did not connect which made me question once again how self-hooking the method feeder actually is. Allowed a second rod on the lake, I alternated between method feeder and float to my left on the other. No bites at all on the feeder, the float brought in 21 perch in two sessions, including some fun and feisty stripeys around the 12oz mark, plus a single, small beautiful golden rudd. Could/should have been so much better - but that's fishing.

Arrived at 3:30pm for my Tuesday evening fish to find the Willows/Alders carpark with just one space left. Willows was very busy, and though folk said they were catching, I opted for the always-quieter and beautiful looking Alders, which had just the two anglers fishing. As it was hot and sunny, I gave it a couple of hour on the method feeder (no bites) before switching to float and starting to ping in the maggots, as demonstrated to me by the Welshman last Saturday who I watched pull out tench after bream after tench. It was a slow evening. It never did 'wake up' as common wisdom dictates. I saw it though for 2 tench and 1 common around the 1lb mark, and a few roach and perch. Changing depths/bait made no difference. Very disappointing. Fish 1 Martin 0

I spent the first willing my rod tip to tremble while listening to fish after fish being pulled in at the next swim. I walked around to see if he was using magic beans for bait and met a charming Welshman who clearly knew his stuff. He told me there was little point legering against the central lily pads, no matter how accurate my casting had been to get it there, as these grew on a submerged island not far below the surface where as the fish were feeding at the bottom of the slope leading up to it. This made sense, as I watched him pull in another tench and a 4lb-ish bream that he seemed to consider a nuisance. He told me the secret was to keep pinging in maggots every cast and build up the swim, then to 'keep chucking the bait in' as if the tench or bream were around they would hoover it up in no time. He said he'd tried corn before (I was fishing with corn) worm and caster, but only maggots 'got them fizzing.' He pulled in a couple more perch striking at bites I did not register on his antennae float. He added that it was an early mornings and evenings venue and so was about to pack up. He kindly offered his swim to me, and suggested I kept catapulting the maggots while I brought my stuff over. A lovely guy. In the 'new' swim, I endured one heavy rain downpour, but brought in 3 roach (one around 6ox), a skimmer, just 5 perch (I'd had over 50 there earlier in the month much closer to the bank), 8 rudd (to 3 oz) a 1lb common and 5 tench, the biggest being 3lb 12 and 4lb 8. Thank you, my friend. I look forward to my next visit.

Storm Evert? Pah! It was as still as can be when I arrived at 5:45am. But by 8, the aspen tree was shimmering its leaves in the increasing wind and by 11 I was struggling to lash the brolly to my seat as incoming rain hit me horizontally. With the air pressure falling below 1,000mb anticipation was higher than ever, and the fish pretty much obliged, in the morning anyway. Mirrors of 4lb 12 and 5lb 6, a 1lb tench and commons of 9lb 8, 7lb 12 and 6lb were all most welcome. Come midday however, with the swell coming across like the North Atlantic, the bites stopped altogether even after I moved to a sheltered area where I thought that fat, lazy carp might be avoiding the flow.

Lovely to sit in the southerly breeze after last weeks heatwave, and even better to completely miss all of the threatened showers that scudded by. I tackled up where I thought the wind would be blowing the fish towards me under the surface chop, but nobody sent them the memo. Nothing for over two hours, then in a millisecond, the world went from silence to chaos as the rod reared into the air and the tip bent round like an Allen key as the alarm screamed out in, erm, alarm. Whatever had taken the wafter sheared across the lake pulling yard after yard of line. I judged that it was headed towards the far off lily pads where I have lost fish before, so tried to put additional pressure on the spool with my hand. It made little difference. Still roaring, and judging it not far from the snags, I made to tighten the clutch. Mistake. I lost one of the silly little washers on the reel spindle switching a spool some time ago and it hasn't worked effectively since. My gentle half turn managed to lock it completely and the 8lb hook link twanged in a second. I've lost so many fish lately. No more bites, apart from one jingly-jangler that brought me the greediest roach in the world - a 4-ouncer that had a go at three pieces of artificial corn. With the breeze easing as evening progressed, I switched to float-fished maggots one rod length out. As well as another roach and a nice perch, I hit into a shoal of small bream, catching 10 of them between 2 and 6 ounces. I've never caught so many in one go. The maggots also accounted for a beautiful 8lb Mirror who fought long and hard and made the evening worthwhile, if still over 20lbs short of my Willows evening trips of May and June.

My anticlimactic July continues. At least it was only 25 degrees rather than the 30 of the last 7 consecutive days. I should have known it would be tough when I tackled up and made my first cast to find I'd not threaded the top two rod rings. Sounds incredulous, but in my defence I was being attacked by early morning mosquitoes and was bitten several times in the process before running back to the car for the Deet. There were tempting patches of feeding fish bubbles before 8am, and I was snapped up float fishing close in by something that went off like a rocket. Schoolboy error: I hadn't set the drag, and that was that. Managed an 8oz bream, a 3lb 3 mirror, and commons of 3lb 6 and 1lb before the sun drove the bites away. With nothing happening on my rod, I had time to watch a couple of kids, and later on a viking catch many carp off the surface with dog biscuits. They seemed to manage it without the plague of water fowl that have totally scuppered my previous efforts to the point where I didn't bring any baits. With nothing happening on the bottom, I raised the float and went light for another bream, 3 roach and 34 perch of up to 8ounces, probably averaging 3oz. With my session having to end before the cool of the evening returned, my final cast brought a 3lb mirror. Four carp in a day can't be that bad, but when none hit the 3.5lb mark, it can only be a little disappointing

A bonus 75 mins fishing in the 6th continuous day of 30 degrees temps with searing sun. I don't have waders, which limits me, I believe to just two swims, both adjacent, so with 15 mins of baiting up time, a half hour in each is probably about right. Not a lot around today, just half a dozen small roach and a chunky 8oz dace, but I did end with my favourite fish, the gudgeon. Not much to report about the fishing, so here's a few gudgeon facts: - As well as being the most characterful fish in the river, it has the most splendid Latin Name: Gobio gobio, which translates a little offensively as 'small bait fish' - The Dutch call it a 'riviergrondel' - Now, this will impress you. The gudgeon is capable of emitting squeaking sounds, which are believed to be a means of communication between individuals - some studies have shown that the Gudge makes up to 45% on a kingfisher's diet and 50% of Czech otter's. Boo! - They are all members of the carp family and can live up to 5 years - The Grand Union Gobio Gobio Society (GUGGS) has a vibrant website with (currently) 617 members

Well, that was a bit rubbish. A fifth consecutive day of temps around 30 degrees with unbroken sunshine has been truly horrible for temperate people like me and fish alike. Thinking that the lakes would be hard with the fish not bothered with feeding (my first mistake?) I headed for Speen Moors with 15ft rod, centrepin, a couple of pints of maggots and bags of enthusiasm. The river looked fab, though reasonably slow paced, and I appreciate todays conditions weren't conducive and it was still scorching and 25 degrees when I packed up at 9:15 when I was already sporting two angry insect bites and felt more would otherwise be endured, and two swans ploughed through my swim. However, it was usual story for me on Parliament draught, though I did catch my first fish in three visits: 2 dace (one a nice 7oz), 2 roach and a large bleak. I still don't know what I'm doing wrong, but the fish hate me, and I don't think I'll ever catch a chub over a pound. I trotted a large loafer, held it back, let it run. I fished high, I let it drag the bottom, I fished midwater. I loose fed each swim (6-10 maggies in mid stream every 1-2 minutes of so) for 15 mins before casting. I scaled down from a size 14 to size 16 microbarbed hook as advised by a much revered local angler. (I've ordered the braid you advise - it can only help). As usual, I bumped off more than I caught, though this time nothing of any size. With the centrepin I believe my line was always tight, I think my strikes were neither too fierce nor too namby-pamby and mainly fishing the centreline, I don't think I jumped around sufficiently to spook or outstayed my welcome (max 30 mins) in each spot. Having run out of swims, I made it cross country to fish the planked footbridge to find it fully occupied by teenagers in reduced amounts of clothing, firing a barbecue and smoking something funny. As unwelcome as they were, they were polite and charming, making room for me to cross and offering to help me over the stile (I must have looked knackered, sweaty and fed up). I decided on nearby Enborne canal. Mercifully, there were no boats (only a trio of those horrid paddle boarders in bikinis). There was fish life everywhere, and on the pin and light tackle, and pretty much using the long rod as a whip, I must have had a million good, positive bites. I missed 999,991 of them - either bumping the fish or missing them altogether. Having read that a way to address missed bites is to shallow up, but even at 6 inches deep, I kept missing. To be fair, 4 of the 8 perch I caught were barely bigger than the maggots, despite the bites being strong enough to keep the float underwater. So I shall try and explain this example of my ineptitude mainly down to my 16 hook just being too big for them. I did eek out a tasty 6oz roach, and perch of 7 and 12ounces, but that was that. Having packed up in the near dark, as I walked back along the canal , I saw what I thought was a little white dig chasing a bigger brown one over Guyers Bridge. They turned onto the bank when the brown dog leapt into the lock crashing into the water maybe 20 foot below canal level. I ran over and saw it was a deer. Four people walked over the bridge and I explained what their white dog had done. They were horrified, the 2 girls quite panicky. There was nothing much we could do. Without lock keys, we couldn't move the lock gates to change the water level, and though one of the guys climbed down the lockside steps into the chamber, the deer, swimming/running up and down the fairly shallow water, was never going to go nowhere near him, and even if it did, how do you grab a panicked deer with one arm and carry it up 20 of so steps? There were two small areas of raised ground above the water on the corners of one end one end that the deer climbed up on a couple of times and tried to jump out, failing the required height by about 10 feet. At least it had a chance of not drowning. With the girls screaming, and the man hanging from the steps, I felt we were causing it more panic without having any chance of getting it out. I thought it's best chance was for us to leave the poor thing, where it could potentially spend the night on the raised 'islands' and take it's chances with the first passing boat on the morning. The girls were phoning the police as I left. Oh well, if I'd had a pretty crap evening, it was much better than those of the dog owners and that deer. Maybe next week I'll stick to the lakes.