A New Challenge....

Thursday 16th March 2017
Awbridge Lock, Trysull, Staffordshire
Staffordshire and Worcestershire Canal 
(Main Line: Stourton to Aldersley)
Weather: Overcast with the odd burst of sunshine
Temperature: Cold

I usually have a bad day on canals and either blank or catch very little. The only exception to this was the session I had with Luke over at the Moira Canal on the August Bank Holiday Sunday last year, and considering that was my last fishing session of the year and I haven't been near a canal since there was a certain amount of trepidation on how I was going to do.  Add to the mix that this was the first time I'd fished with Paul Pountney, it was also the first time we'd actually met despite having been "friends" on social media for some time and so that fear of social interaction element that comes with depression was also a factor.  However, it has to be said that unlike before when I would cancel at the last minute with some pathetic excuse, I did not have the stomach churning nerves that I used to have either.  I was quite calm as I prepared my flask and got myself ready.

I had agreed to take Jake to work on the morning because he was on the early shift at the Costa Coffee where he works and was opening up.  He wanted to be there at about 5:45am. so that was great for me because I could head straight over to Trysull and get an early start.  Unfortunately things did not exactly pan out that way, not that they ever do for me anyway when being on time for anything is concerned, and after returning home and thinking a quick 5 minutes snooze on the sofa would be a good idea, I woke up 15 minutes before the time I had told Paul I would arrive at the venue.  I now had just 15 minutes to finish my by now stone cold cuppa, brush my teeth and drive the 12 miles from home to the canal, and to do this slap bang in the middle of the morning rush hour traffic.

I eventually chipped up 45 minutes late after driving around some winding country lanes but eventually found this picturesque little stretch of the canal in the middle of nowhere.  I did a little bit of reading up on the place beforehand and discovered that it has featured in the local history publication "The Black County Bugle" who ran a feature on the canal in it's ghost story section that the spirits of those who lived and worked on the canal still haunt the winding tow-path.  Descriptions of the canals ghostly apparitions along the stretch north of the tiered Bratch locks at Womboure is said to be renowned in ghost hunting circles for its mysterious atmosphere and many locals claim they have seen ghostly figures along the canal, especially around Awbridge.

The canal was designed by the famous engineer James Brindley, the man responsible for building the first canal through Smethwick, and which enabled the town to grow rapidly from a few scattered farms dotted along the Birmingham to Dudley road and become one of the Industrial Revolution boomtowns as factories sprang up alongside the canal.  The bridge at Awbridge, over the Staffs & Worcester, is thought to be his first attempt at combining a lock and a bridge into a single structure and this would become a style which is seen all the way around the canal network.

Awbridge Lock from the bridge

Legend has it, that it was not the usual immigrant Irish Navvies who worked on this stretch of canal but that it was French prisoners of war captured during the Battle of Trafalgar, in 1805, who were set to work on the bridge. It is thought that one Napoleonic sailor carved the picture of the ship into the stonework. 

The bridge itself looks unusually ornate compared to most of the other bridges along most stretches of the canal network and instead of the usual plain solid brickwork, a balustrade is formed by brick columns topped by stone.

It is into this stonework that a rough carving of a French warship was chiselled, even though this area of the Black Country is over a hundred miles away from the coast. There is no record of who the sailor might have been or how he ended up in the Black Country so many miles from home, the only clue to his existence being an eerie picture of a French Man o War, but some say his spirit still roams this isolated stretch of canal.

The carving

When I first arrived I had noticed a strange looking figure dressed in blue and topped off with a black hat and did wonder if I had indeed witnessed this ghostly spirit, but through the very light mist that was rising from the water came the unmistakable tones of a Smethwick accent.  "I've saved yow the best peg" and I knew then I'd found Paul.

The enterprising farmer who owns the land around the bridge allows vehicles to park in the farmyard for £1 all day and the money is deposited in a small red box as you walk out of the yard and down to the canal side.  With the nominal fee duly paid I set off for a day of fishing.  I had prepared for the day by getting several types of bait ready and had a pellet and ground-bait mixture in my grey Sandwell Council waste food bucket, a good supply of maggots (red and white mix), a tub of dead maggots (reds), three slices of Hovis medium sliced white bread that had been microwaved for 15 seconds and rolled flat and two tins of pork luncheon meat.  I wanted to be ready for anything.

Because I knew I would be coming fishing again this week I hadn't bothered to take my float rod apart after Monday's session at Hunnington and so I was tackled up from the off with the Maver 12' float rod all set up in the back of the van.  I just had to plumb the depths and set the loaded waggler for the correct depth and I would be good to go.  Paul had set up opposite a moored up narrow boat and was fishing with his Maver pole and told me that he'd been hearing good things about this stretch where 28lbs of Chub had won a match the week previously.  Paul is a member of The Bell Otters Fishing Club and fishes matches most weekends and with The Otters visiting the canal in a few weeks this was a sort of recce visit for him, though they will fish further down the canal on their contest.

My peg was within the 25 metres to a lock entrance that the Canal & River Trust say it is not to be fished as boats have to moor as they wait for the lock to fill with water but this stretch is supposed to be a quiet section between September and April with little traffic, maybe a few working boats every now and then so it seemed safe enough.  I was opposite a tired and sad looking little boat that just needed a bit of TLC to bring it back to life and Paul advised me to fish just to the side of the bow of the boat, where he reckoned the fish would be.  My first cast was spot on and within a few minutes I had a bite and my float disappeared beneath the surface.  My record of not blanking since my my first attempts at fishing the Smethwick Engine Arm and Old Main Line canals continued.  Since those times I had, as mentioned earlier, only fished one other canal and had done well on there.  My problem now of course is that the tension increases with every session now as I await my next blank day.

The weather wasn't brilliant but it wasn't too cold to start with and I was catching quite regularly for the first few hours but the types of fish were very small, mostly Gudgeon and one Minnow, a first for me and one to tick off the list.  I have had a pole for a while now but not really had the confidence to use it.  They say it's the easiest way to learn how to fish and so I decided to give it a go and unpacked it.  They are easy to set up and I can see the benefits of using them because you can't always hit the same spot when casting with a rod, but with a pole you more or less drop in the same spot every time.  Add to the mix a small feed pot fitted on the end of the pole and you can build the swim up with loose feed and attract the fish with your freebies exactly where you want them.

Throughout the morning there had been quite a few boats come through the lock which had been unexpected and it did mean having to stop fishing every now and then as they passed us in both directions.  There is a mutual respect between boaters and anglers as they both understand each others rights to be using the canals and for the most part the boaters will pull up short of the angler and walk a few extra yards to open the sluices on the lock or open the lock gates.  There was one though, a bearded bloke with his dog, who seemed to aim for Paul's peg on purpose and tied his boat up ight between us.  He had an arrogant look and attitude about him that immediately pee'd me off and I was just waiting for him to say something.  His boat had come in really close and scraped Paul's keep-net along the side of the canal wall, luckily not causing any damage to it, but it was his attitude that had suggested he'd done it on purpose and the air he had about him.  The majority of the boaters had been really friendly and asked us how we were doing as they went past us, one even telling us that he'd seen a huge Chub come from these very pegs the week previously.

The fishing seemed to die off a little and I was starting to get frustrated with the pole because I was getting the bites but my strike was all out of kilter and I was missing them.  I decided that I would go back onto the float rod just to start catching again.  I started off with a nice Roach about 4 inches long, still a small one but so much more satisfying than the Gudgeon and then this was followed up with a juvenile Chub about the same length but then those bloody Gudgeon returned and I was into those again.  While all of this had been going on in my peg, Paul had stuck to the pole and remained in one spot, just feeding that area up and not deviating or being distracted from it.  He'd had a few small fish as well but he'd also had some nice Chub and Roach.  It was at this point we heard someone shouting down the canal "You shouldn't be fishing there" and "You're not allowed to fish in mooring areas.  These white mooring points are for us to use when going through the lock".  It was one of those know-it-all types who thought he could quote the rule book to you.  He made no attempt to stop a little further up the towpath and just headed straight for Paul's peg, dragging his keep-net along with him and ripping it from Paul's seat-box.

I was next in his sights but I think when he pulled the keep-net off he realised he'd gone too far and stopped short of my net but I had started to drag mine out of the water by this time and was safe.  The keep-net disappeared under the water and I was amazed at how calm Paul was.  He didn't get angry, he didn't get riled, he just remained calm and got his landing net handle and tried to retrieve the net. I was okay but the boater was stating to really pee me off, worse than the other one did, when he kept quoting the rules concerning fishing in mooring areas.  Now if he had been correct I would have accepted it but I don't think he expected one of us to counter his claims that these were the rules.  I listened to him for about 5 minutes and then chipped in with "Actually Paul is well outside of the 25 metres that the Canal & River Trust say someone can't fish in around a lock entrance.  I'm well aware that I am inside it and I am breaking the rules but Paul isn't" The boater tried to say I was wrong and he didn't know which rules I'd been reading, well lets just clear this up right now...

"Fishing is not allowed in lock chambers, within 25 metres (one boat length) of a lock approach, within 25 metres of a water point or in the vicinity of overhead powerlines." - Canal & River Trust - Updated 26 November 2015

The keep-net was caught on the propeller of the boat and it took a while for it to be untangled, but it had been ripped apart and now lay ruined on the towpath with Billy Bellend still claiming he was not at fault and arguing with e that I was looking at some different rules.  Well I wasn't and I wish we'd taken his photo or the name of his boat because what he did could be classed as criminal damage and he would be liable to buy a new keep-net for Paul.

Anyway, after that little bit of excitement the fish in my swim more or less disappeared but Paul went on a bit of a roll and all of his patience and feeding paid off as he began pulling some really nice big Chub out and finished off with a contest winning bag full.  The temperature had dropped and I had started to get cold and even the sun trying to break through the clouds later on did little too warm me up.  I had also realised that I had started chasing the fish around the swim instead of concentrating on one area.  If I saw a disturbance in the water I started casting there, I wasn't leaving my float in one place long enough and was beginning to get frustrated.  I made one last attempt with the pole and watched what Paul was doing and tried to follow his lead but the fish were having none of it.

All in all it was a great session with great company and Paul had kept me amused with the occasional outburst from his peg as he checked the results from the Cheltenham Festival and one of his bets hadn't come in.  The occasional expletive could be heard followed by some indistinguishable muttering coming down the towpath.  What I learned from the session is that I really need to be more patient and maybe start looking towards catching some bigger fish rather than the smaller varieties I tend to catch regularly.  I think I need to buy some bigger hook sizes and stop using No 18's all of the time, so I'm off to Angling Direct for some No 16's and 14's and a 20g plumb for my pole.  Tomorrow I'm off to Mereside Pools by Earlswood Lakes with Luke and his tribe so hopefully the lessons I learned will start to kick in.

See you on the bankside....

How Times Change....

The last week has seen me working down in Devon and I took my gear along with me in the hope of getting a day on the banks of one of the many fisheries down that way.  However circumstances dictated otherwise and a text message off my bank on the Monday afternoon informing me that they had arranged an informal overdraft extention to cover standing monthly payments that were, or had, gone out of my account meant I was potless until Thursday.  This seriously dented any aspirations I had of any fishing and so with a frustrated resignation I had no choice but to just get on with the job in hand and concentrate on work.

Now in the past I would have had a meltdown at the thought of going over my overdraft and would have slipped very easily into a bout of depression, but this time I adopted a much more positive outlook at the situation and just didn't bother worrying about something that I had no way of fixing. It had happened, it was happening and I couldn't change a thing about it.  I felt the odd moment or two of something I couldn't quite work out at first but then realised it was just pure and simply self pity.  I work long, hard hours doing what I do (Retail IT by the way.  I install PCs, servers, switches, tills, printers and just about everything else to do with tills in some very well known High Street retailers stores) and here I was not able to afford a few hours leisure time.  I looked at my outgoings and realised things had to change straight away, with the bulk of my money going on cigarettes.  I worked out the cost per month and was staggered by the result.....I could afford a decent new seat box every month, I could buy myself a much wanted shed for the garden, I could do such a lot with the £380 every month I'd save if I stopped.

It was at this point I decided that smoking was going to stop, I was going to quit as soon as I had finished the packet I had on the go at the moment but after that I was stopping for good.  I had stopped back in 2007 / 2008, but foolishly started again after breaking up with someone (another reason to dislike her I suppose) and so I knew I could do it again.  I've made some half hearted attempts in the intervening years but never really committed to the process of stopping, but this time I was going to do it for sure.  It helped that I was living in a Travelodge all week because I had a long walk from my room down to reception, had to stand in the cold while I puffed on my ciggie and then had to go walking through the hotel corridors smelling of the tell tale smoke making the return journey feel something like a 'walk of shame'.

I fell foul at the first hurdle on Thursday though and bought a pack of 20, but my determination not to buy anymore was, and is, strong so I thought "Okay, you've bought some.  Let's try and reduce the amount you smoke and not fall back into old ways."  I got back on Friday with 11 left in the pack so that was a positive and immediately set about formulating a plan to keep to.  I left the ciggies in the van which meant I had to go outside if I wanted one and leave the comfort of the sofa, the wind and rain from the tail-end of Hurricane Doris was still about so that added to the discomfort of being outside because the van is a work vehicle and we are not allowed to smoke inside.  With the cost of the habit in mind I worked out that I could spend £30 on patches and lozenges and be in profit after just three days and then the rest of the month would be savings.

Anyway, what I'm trying to say in a very convoluted manner is how my outlook to situations that once reduced me to a gibbering wreck has changed, and I think this is very much due to taking up fishing.  Any angler will tell you that no two sessions are ever the same,one day you could be catching all day long, the next day at the same peg you could blank and struggle to catch a cold, let alone a fish.  You kind of learn to adapt and roll with the punches, find a solution to the problem, look at the bait you're using, change tactics if needed, make little adjustments to your presentation and not get stressed out by things, and I honestly believe that I have started to draw on this and I'm applying it to life and situations in general.  Okay I'm going to have a rough month, maybe two, until I have a firmer financial footing, but things will improve just as they do when you go fishing the next time after blanking (unless, of course, your name is Damian...he did have a spectacularly long run of blanking sessions)

Fishing has been a real life saver for me and considering I used to call Luke and Damian all-sorts of names for being anglers and I was very much in the anti fishing camp, it has surprised me just how much I enjoy the sport now and how much of a positive influence it has had on my life.

That's enough from me for this week.  I'm too busy making a list of things I want to buy at the Great Northern Angling Show in April...

See you on the bankside......

First Session of 2017

Thursday 16th February 2017
Dayhouse Farm Fishery, Old House Lane, Romsley, B62 0EX
Bottom Pool
Weather - Overcast with some light rain
Temperature - Freezing !!!!!

After last years disastrous fishing adventures I am determined to make amends this year and get out as many times as possible.  Last year my first session came around the 23rd February with Luke and John over at Friezeland and it was a bit of a rubbish day with blustery winds and freezing temperatures that didn't help anyone.  The only highlight was when Luke ordered three Sausage & Egg cobs from the bailiff who comes round for the money and takes sandwich orders which are then bought to your peg.  After a short time the bailiff returned and handed over everyone's food but because Luke had ordered three sandwiches his order came in a carrier bag.  Luke didn't bother to check his bag when the bloke first arrived and continued fishing and we all sat and watched as the bailiff, an oldish and hard of hearing chap, walked around scratching his head trying to work out how he had ended up with an extra sandwich.  There were only five adults and two kids fishing that day and we'd all had our sarnies, so a mistake had been made somewhere along the line.  He came up to all of us individually and asked if we wanted an extra butty but no-one did....except Luke.  He figured it would be a shame to let it go to waste (and he had a point because they are lovely sarnies) so he shouted across that he'd have it and duly paid for the extra roll.  The bailiff took his money and happy that he wasn't going to have to throw the extra roll away, he left.  It was at this point that Luke decided to hand out the cobs to the two kids and upon opening his carrier bag discovered just two Sausage & Egg rolls and the realisation that he'd just bought his own sandwich dawned on him.

Anyway, back to this year's first session.  After spending the winter reading the fishing magazines and watching YouTube videos, the excitement has been slowly building and I have kept an eye on the weather just waiting for that little rise in temperature that usually arrives towards the end of February and means that spring is just around the corner.  I had decided that the time would be right when the first of the early spring daffodils pops from beneath the surface, so after seeing a few promising buds appear on the roadside as I have been driving about the excitement had reached new highs and my thoughts had gone from matters relating to work and had been slowly usurped by what tactics should I employ ?, what bait should I use ?, should I go all out with the method feeder ? and am I going to beat a few of my PBs this year ?.  Tuesday and Wednesday had been quite mild compared to other days and the forecast had promised more of the same for Thursday, so I made my mind up.  I was going fishing !!!!!!

I spent Wednesday night humming and arrhing about where to go.  Hunnington was closed until mid-February, the canal was an option but I never do well on canals and I didn't want my first session to end with a blank, I could drive around and find a new fishery and give that a go but that meant the risk of a blank as well not knowing what worked and what didn't.  I needed somewhere familiar and safe, somewhere I had caught in the past and I had an idea of what was needed to catch.  I decided on Dayhouse Farm's Bottom Pool, one of my favourite fishing venues and a place where I knew I would catch something.  There are two pools at Dayhouse, the smaller Top Pool where I struggle every-time and the larger Bottom Pool where you are guaranteed to catch something around he margins.

Dayhouse Farm Bottom Pool

The day arrived and I spent the first few hours getting my gear sorted, preparing the bread I was going to use (microwave for 10 seconds and roll flat), I took the hand blender to a few more slices to get some breadcrumbs for the cage feeder, checked my bait tub and made sure I had enough ground-bait left from last year and lastly I got my trusty old flask from the cupboard and filled it with coffee.  I just needed a pint of maggots and some micro-pellets from the local branch of Angling Direct on Long Lane, Halesowen and I was good to go.

I arrived at the fishery around mid-day and after dipping both the keep and landing nets in the disinfectant tubs I made my way down to the Bottom Pool where I could park the van and get setup.  I had decided to start the session with the Maver 12' feeder rod with a small cage feeder and the hook-length setup with an anti-tangle rig to prevent it from getting caught up during the cast.  I went for a number 16 hook and got everything ready at the peg.  It was a little muddy and I almost went into the lake when my foot slipped as I made my way down the small bank, but with the grace of an elephant and a little girlie squeal I managed to prevent myself from having an early bath.  The peg I went for was dry enough and I placed the seat-box on the concrete slab provided so I had no concerns about sinking in the mud.

I filled my feeder with the mix of micro pellets, groundbait and breadcrumbs and put four medium punches of bread on the hook and I was off.  As soon as I made the first cast I could feel all of the frustration of the last few days lift from my soul and I relaxed for the first time in days.  It has been a bit difficult at home since Sunday because my eldest son has come back to live after he split from his partner and it hurts me to see him so upset, especially when she is putting some horrible things on social media about him.  As usual in these things, she is selective with the truth and is painting a picture of him that is far from the truth and it has led to some heated exchanges between us as I try to reach out to him but he pushes away.  Don't get me wrong, I'm no saint and in the past I've reacted badly and ended up punching him, but I'm determined to avoid that this time even though he says some pretty nasty things.  He takes offence when I tell him he's better off without her and he defends her and it all gets a little messy.  Anyway, once my feeder hit the water all of these issues went and I was happy to just sit and watch the tip of the rod, relaxed, chilled out and oblivious to everything.

I sat for about 10 minutes when there was a bit of movement on the tip, nothing major, nothing huge, just a slight knock as if something was investigating what goodies were on offer.  With my hand poised over the rod I waited and waited but there was no indication of anything to suggest a bite.  After another 10 minutes I reeled in and saw the bread had gone so something was down there so I refilled the feeder and put more bread on the hook.  Same as before, lots of line bites and nudges but no solid bites.  I decided to give it a few more tries before swapping over to the maggots to see if they could tempt a few more positive bites but before that happened the rod tip, which had a slight bend on it as I've been taught to have, went loose.  Something had picked up the hook and so I struck gently and could feel the fish on the end of the line.  I reeled in and saw a lovely Roach around the 2 or 3 ounces mark and I managed to get it out of the water and into my eagerly waiting hands.  Now to me this counts as a catch because I landed the fish, unhooked it and it was clearly out of the water, but some may disagree that it should count because when I went to throw it into my keepnet I missed and it went sailing down the side and back into the lake.

Happy that I wasn't going to blank I decided to continue with the bread for the time being and see what else would fancy a little bit of Hovis medium sliced.  The trend continued with loads of little knocks and nudges and after about 45 minutes I decided to switch to maggots with plugs of my mix at either end and a maggoty treat in the middle.  Four yellow maggots on the hook and the delicious concoction (which had benefited from a shot of Halibut glug) and I was back in action.  The results were startling and there was far more activity on the hook than before.  Another decent Roach sacrificed himself for my entertainment and then the big one, the one that got away.  The rod tip shot round and as soon as I struck I could tell this was a really nice fish.  It made a dash for the centre of the lake and I knew it was either a Carp or a Tench from the way it was fighting me as I tried to bring it into the landing net.  Closer and closer it came until I could see it was a Common Carp of about 4 or 5lbs and it's head came out of the water....then disaster....one quick flick of the powerful neck muscles and he was gone.

I decided that it was time for a change of tactics and set up my 12' Maver float rod with one of my favourite clear loaded waggler floats mounted on a swivel with two stop beads to prevent it from slipping up or down the line.  3 No 8 Shotz below the float and a quick change bead on the end was topped off with a Drennan No 16 hook on a 6 or 7 inch hook-length.  By this time the rain had started to fall, nothing heavy just a steady drizzle, and I set up my umbrella on the back of the seat box with one of the adjustable arms I had bought from Dragon Carp just before they closed their Tamworth clearance outlet.  At £2.50 a throw they have proved to be a bargain and hold the brolly stem fast and should prevent any repetition of my experience at Drayton Reservoir when my brolly was lifted by the wind and dumped unceremoniously in the water where it slowly sank beneath the waves just out of reach accompanied by howling laughter from Damian.  I sat there under the brolly with my flask close at hand and happy despite the weather and the one leg that was soaked as it caught the rain.  I suppose it is a feeling of contented elation that only someone who has fished in the rain will appreciate.

I had told Ryan Shields, a young lad who had played football for me back in the days when I ran Warley Albion and turned out to be one of the best right-backs in our league, who loves his fishing that I was going to Dayhouse and he turned up in his little Chav Mobile and I spent the rest of the afternoon just sitting there chewing the fat with good company talking about fishing and the impending arrival of his first child with his gorgeous fiancee Lily.  The change of tactic worked better than I could have wished for and there was bite after bite and the sight of the float tip disappearing under the water was indescribable.  It has been missing from my life since August, and to me it beats that bend in he tip of a feeder rod every-time for excitement.  It's fishing at it's traditional best.

I ended the day with about 9 or 10 silvers (mostly Roach with a juvenile Perch, Skimmer and Gudgeon as well) and left the lake just before they closed at 5pm, tired but very, very happy.

My catch

Not the best picture but I didn't care...I hadn't blanked

With frozen hands I took everything apart and packed all of my gear away and went home looking forward to that hot sweet cup of tea and the couple of slices of toast that mark the end of every fishing adventure....

See you on the bankside.....

Getting Excited Now....

Friday 10th February 2017

When I began my journey through depression I found that with a few hours on the bankside with good company helped me huge enormously and pretty soon I was relying less and less on the medication to make it through the day.  I would still be visited by the black dog and would plummet to the depths of despair, but a quick trip to a local fishery would soon lift my spirits and I would be back on track. 

Unfortunately last summer I was involved on a roll-out at work for a large national toy store chain  and it slashed my time on the bankside to the very bare minimum.  I managed just one session with Luke on the Moira Canal just outside of Swadlincote and I made a vow then that there would be no repeat of this happening again and I was going to try and get out at least twice a month or more next summer.  I have toyed with the idea of going out through the winter, but I haven't done so yet because of various reasons at home.  However, I have just been informed that the latest project I am working on has been suspended for a week and I had 17 days worth of annual leave to take before the end of March or I would lose them.  The forthcoming week has been booked off and I am hoping to hit the bankside at a local fishery next week to experience a spot of winter fishing.

To say that I am excited at the prospect is putting it mildly and I have been reading all about fishing with method feeders, banjo feeders, cage feeders and every other type of feeder that the experts claim to be the best approach.  I guess my next decision will be what bait to go with and I have dug out all of my old Improve Your Coarse Fishing magazines, quite a few Anglers Times and Anglers Mails, and Saturday looks set to be spent sitting in front of the fire, cuppa in hand and the biscuit tub close by, as I trawl trough them.

The Problem Is.....

I was hoping that there would have been far more in the way of piscatorial adventures than I have had this year.  I would have liked to have been out on the bankside with far more frequency than I have managed this year so far but work has to come first in order to keep a roof over my head and food in the stomach.  There have been other factors which have not stopped me from getting out there, but have made the times when I have a little less enjoyable.  I seem to have lost the friendship of one of the group and their absence from the odd fishing trip I have managed to get out on has been very noticeable and saddened me.  I have to respect their decision though and feel to go into anything further would be disrespectful so I will leave it there.

This time last year I was thinking of stopping fishing for the Winter and planning my tactics and approaches for the warmer months.  I was reading whatever articles and blogs I could find and planning my adventures on the bankside with thoughts of breaking personal best records every trip but as Robert Burns said "the best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry".  I have managed a handful of excursions to the local fisheries and canals this year which is very disappointing and hopefully not something that I will repeat.

Luke has mentioned giving Winter fishing a go and a few other mates have said that they find the colder months far more productive when it comes to Roach, so maybe I will give the local canal a try before Spring arrives, it just depends on work.

Finally....

Sunday 28th August 2016
Ashby Canal @ Moira Furnace Museum, Moira, Swadlincote, Derbyshire

My first session on the bankside for over two months finally arrived on Sunday, and I was able to spend some time just sitting in quiet reflection of everything that has been going on over the Summer.  It has been quite an eventful period in my life, both personally and work wise, with lifestyle changes that were so badly needed happening and a new role at work that is proving challenging and very rewarding.

A few weeks ago I made the decision to shed some weight and get fitter and also to become more active in general instead of wallowing in self pity at the thought of having reached the weight I have (24 stone) whilst shovelling another pork pie or sausage roll down my neck.  I joined a local Slimming World group on Saturday mornings and have to face the scales every Saturday morning, to see how much I have lost or gained over the previous 7 days.  My previous attempt at following the Slimming World plan had been moderately successful, but the consultant left the area and moved her group to her new location, so after just 3 sessions and a total loss of 6lbs in weight it all came to an end.  This time round I have settled into the group and find following the plan easy with the result that in just 5 weeks I have lost half a stone and my confidence is rising with each loss.

Another change I have made is that I have stopped taking my anti-depressants and whilst I still have the odd day where I slip back into the darkness and get stressy, I have learned a few coping strategies which enable me to navigate the gloomy waters of depression quickly and effectively and emerge from them happier and more resilient.  I should have really consulted the Doctor before stopping but I just found myself in a place where I thought I was ready to stop the medication, so I did.

The work thing has been something of a double edged sword though because on the one hand it has given me more responsibility and purpose, but on the other hand it has seen a very much valued friendship stall, briefly I hope.  I'm not going to say any more about the situation, just that mistakes were made and maybe I should have handled things a little differently, but I stand by my reasons, though it does seem to have had a damaging affect which was what I was hoping to avoid.

The fishing came just at the right time for me after a very hectic few weeks at work that has stretched me but I have risen to the new challenges and faced them head on with a new found confidence and belief in myself.  I had mentioned to Luke that we hadn't been fishing for a while and he suggested that we went on the Bank Holiday Sunday.  There didn't seem to be the usual discussions about venues and somehow we ended up deciding on giving the Ashby Canal at Moira a go.  I did the usual reading up on the web and found out that it is regarded by many to be one of the best silverfish venues in the Midlands, or even the UK. The canal is now landlocked and offers over 2 miles of water to go at, though we decided to stay close to the museum because of the car parks. Despite the growing reputation of the canal you'd be forgiven for thinking you had come to the wrong place, there will probably be very few people fishing, which was the case when I arrived at 07.45 on Sunday morning.

Luke, who lives about 4 miles from the museum, had been down to the canal a few nights previously and began to bait it up with a mix of particle baits and sweetcorn and had parked his car on the car park of the local Co-op, about half a mile or so along the canal from the museum.  I arrived and found myself in the middle of a convoy of vehicles all waiting to get into the museum grounds and set up stalls for some sort of craft fair that was being held there.  At first I couldn't see Luke where I thought he was going to be so set off for the short walk along the tow path to the Co-op, to see if his car was there.  Apart from a few people walking their dogs, the only others I saw were two blokes fishing on the far bank on a bend in the canal.

With no sign of Luke's Mondeo on the car park, I set off back to the museum to see if I could get hold of him on facebook or by text.  It was only when I was half way back that I remembered that the Mondeo had died a few weeks ago and he had a new car but I couldn't remember what type, so I carried on with the original plan and sent him a text when I got back to the van.  It turned out that I had been looking for him at the wrong bridge and he had already set up and had caught a few fish.  I made my way round to him and he was in a highly excitable state, very excited and for a minute or so I thought he may start doing a little jig or something.  The reason for his joyous state was that after all of his years fishing, he had finally managed to catch himself his first Tench.  He had been after a Tench for a while and had been most disappointed when I had caught one last year but chucked it back in before he had seen it, but now he had his own, safely stored in his landing net (he'd forgotten his keep net).

Ashby Canal @ Moira Furnace

Luke had two of the tribe with him, the ever present Reece and Cam, and the boys were busy fishing in their shared peg.  Reece is one of those kids who will carry his love of fishing onto his adult years and he is quite an accomplished little angler already, though you sometimes look at how he has set up his rod and wonder just how he catches anything.  His set up for the day looked as though he was after some huge Carp, but he was pulling out loads of small Roach, Perch and Bream with ease, though his counting needs some work on it because to listen him him talk you'd have thought he'd caught thousands.  He's a great kid and willing to learn from everyone though he does have a reputation of being a jinx for me.  On one of our trips everytime he walked over to my peg and started talking any fish I had on the line would come off or they would disappear from my swim for a while.  This resulted in having to ban him from the peg or run the risk of getting himself chucked in......

The fishing was great, though the Carpers would disagree, and we were pulling out a mixed catch of Perch, Roach, Bream and the odd Dace.  One of my best fish was a Perch which was in the 1lb weight range, but having no scales (I really should buy some) this is just a rough estimation.  Someone in the museum has put some thought into the fishing here and anglers have to use the far bank and the joggers and cyclists use the main towpath.  This means there are no disagreements between anyone and anglers don't run the risk of getting their kit damaged.

All in all it was a great way to spend the Bank Holiday Sunday, with glorious weather and we weren't baked to a crisp in the open because Luke had selected pegs that were in the shade all day.  I can't think of a better way of spending a Sunday, though as stated earlier events elsewhere did mean that it was a trip that tinged with a little sadness because people were missing from the bankside with whom I have shared some good times.....Maybe one day we can again.

See you on the bankside.....

I NEED A DAY ON THE BANKSIDE

Sunday 14th August 2016

I haven't been able to get out on the bankside for 2 months now and the strain is beginning to show a little.  The reasons behind the lack of fishing stem from several places, working all week and being knackered at weekends, people changing plans, a general lack of funds etc, all of the usual reasons for not being able to drown a few maggots.

Hopefully I will be back on it over the Bank Holiday weekend and get a few hours in at the Moira Canal, Derbyshire....Unless someone changes the plans again....