Back down the River Again :)

[Leon Roskilly]

I never fish opening day these years.

 

The car parks are too full and too many people chucking stuff into the water.

 

But the following week when they’ve all gone back to work………..

 

So, having taken a week in May to mute the constant reminders of all that decorating that needed doing (well I did some of it!), I managed to persuade my employers that my services weren’t needed this week

(But that was disquietingly easy )

 

All I had to do was to resist the urge to go mullet fishing……..

 

June 17th Sitting on the end of Strood Pier with Jim, not a sign of a bite, and Jim complaining (not for the first time!) of the mullet’s complete lack of aesthetic appreciation.

 

Jim swearing that once he was over the mullet bug, he would be stalking brownies along some idyllic chalk stream.

 

June 18th I really had to go river fishing.

 

(I’ve been corresponding with a young Chinese lad in Singapore who had read my article on Do-it-yourself lure making, and that had got my lure rods really twitching – well not so much difference between pike and barramundi! Well at least the morning’s rain had been more reminiscent of the monsoons!!)

 

As the clouds broke, and the sun shone through, I was headed for the Medway at Teston.

 

As I climbed from the car, it was the smells that got me first. Bankside flowers in their whites, and purples and yellows. I couldn’t see the river for wonderful vegetation.

 

The working parties who had strimmed the car-park and cut swims in previous years had obviously lost their enthusiasm – marvellous.

 

I fought my way to the second swim downstream of Barming Bridge, expecting all my plans to have been frustrated by the morning’s rain. No problem.

 

There was colour and flow in the river, but it looked extremely fishable.

 

But I abandoned my thought to use a DIY surface lure.

 

The colour of the river cried out for a copper spoon, and I had one of Steve Burke’s Abu Atoms, still in its packaging.

 

I removed the 2nd treble, crushed the barbs on the remaining treble with my de-hooking extra, extra long nosed pliers, and sharpened the points until they readily bit into my fingernails.

 

Feeling like an eco-criminal, I cleared more of the lush vegetation from the swim, to give me casting room, and sent the lure zinging across the water.

 

Scent of wild-flowers; green, green growth; blue sky, bluer more through polaroids; bird-song; electric blue damsel flies; blood red flowerheads; rippling water and swaying water plants; a black headed tern patrolling the river, swooping down upon a bleak; a young rabbit watching incredulously, just feet away. And the smells!

 

Splash! The lure settled, and came back through the water-plants, describing its underwater journey through the braid.

 

Again, it sailed out, and again came back, and again was sent glittering across the sky.

 

A tug of weed, then another, and then a wriggle.

 

The fish didn’t realise it was hooked, and neither did I.

 

Then both of us did!

 

Wow! I’d forgotten just how hard summer pike fought.

 

Very long, and very wiry it lay on the mat.

 

Er, how do you get the hook out of these things? (I’m getting old, I forget a lot in 3 months!)

 

With long-nose pliers in my hand, I realised that the lure had already been expelled in the net, all I had to do was to release the creature back into the flowing river.

 

Soon the fish was on its way.

 

Then, along the river I worked. All the sights, all the sounds as though they all were new.

 

The tern flew past again, and flew past again. Fish dappled the surface with their weals. Pugnacious perch attacked the Atom regardless of the fact that it was bigger than themselves. I wish I had bought my stick-float tackle along, the river cries out for it.

 

It was like coming home after a long journey, away to distant lands. The belated magic of June 16th.

 

June 19th The strangest shaped mullet I’d ever seen spun my centrepin, striping line as Brian stood by with the net, and Jim called out in encouragement, regardless of the fact that I was poaching his mark!

 

……………………………

 

Come October, when the mullet finally go, I’ll be back down the river again!

 

Tight Lines - leon

[Guest Ferret1959]

Leon.

You have a magical way with words. Great read.

[Waterman]

Ditto

This captures beautifully the essence of what the new season is all about. It would be nice if I could get out there whilst it's still new

 

[ 21 June 2002, 03:35 PM: Message edited by: Waterman ]

[waggler]

Spot On ! Time to write a book

[dexter]

I must admit I always take a week off work to do some river fishing after the 16th. This week has been unbelieveable more so than usual.

 

I have however re-discovered my love of stick float fishing. I bought some chest waders over the close season and tried them out on the Ribble

Wednesday. I actually caught my first Barbel on the float.

 

Cheers

 

D

[Howard 13]

I too have had the week off, fished every day.Somedays 2 venues.

Fished the pole, whip, feeder, waggler and 2 night sessions for carp on the river.

 

I'm KNACKERED!

 

Roll on Monday morning for work so I can catch up.

 

HB.