Amusing Afterthought.

We’re probably all guilty of the following, but it becomes more prevalent when fishing on a particularly busy venue - like Reddish Vale for instance. The problem arises when you’re continually being presented with the following queries by passers-by:

“Had anythin’ yet mate?”

“Any runs?”

“Y’avin’ much luck pal?”

… and the rather disturbing:

”Do you have anything to report?” (Which was uttered by the bailiff of all people. I politely replied that I did not have anything to report and handed over my fiver. )

… the non-specific and completely open-ended:

”Are there many in ‘ere?” (Many what? Rotting carcasses?)

”Doin’ ‘owt down ‘ere? (To which I couldn’t think of a response adequate enough to be regarded as an answer.)

… the list goes on. Now, some of these are extremely common “Questions to a Fisherman”, but you find that you are constantly saying the same thing ad infinitum – all day long. In a nutshell: you start to sound like a badly damaged record. Before I continue, I must add that I believe that I reply to these questions very satisfactorily. I mix up my responses to try and sound ‘fresh’ each time I’m asked one of the questions above. For example:

”No, not had anything yet but I’ll battle on!” (Yes. Horrible, I know.)

”No, it’s a bit quiet but the weather isn’t really helping.” (Complete cop-out.)

”Well I had one last week and lost one earlier, so I’m pretty confident.” (Yeah, yeah. What-ever!)

Anyway, what I’ve started doing to lessen my usage of the above banal comments is to pretend to be ‘on a call’ on my mobile telephone. I used to try looking engrossed in a book and, later, pretended to be sending a text message of critical global importance; both of which failed to divert the barrage of questions, so I now have to run the risk of receiving a ‘real’ telephone call whilst in ‘pretence mode’ which, luckily, has yet to happen. We must all do it from time to time, surely?

On the other hand, I have absolutely no qualms about answering these questions when I have actually caught something, in which case it is I who is the rat-bag!

Brilliant... I've just stayed late at work to finish reading this blog.

It's great to read the musings of someone who is, 1. obviously passionate about the fishing he does and 2. Can put it across so eloquently.

Please keep it up...

Thanks, DesertRat - I appreciate the kind words. I actually stayed late at work too, finishing the last post, but I hate leaving things unfinished. In addition, it means that I miss some of the rush-hour mentalists, which is nice!

Hmm.

Gah. This time last week I thought I'd be updating this blog with news of my latest catfish capture. Unfortunately this is not the case! Ahem… It is certainly pertinent advice when more experienced catfish anglers suggest that you should expect many blanks in your quest for catfish, and I am no stranger to racking up impressive successions of blanks when in pursuit of specimen-sized carp, so the situation is no different here. In all fairness, I've only managed to invest about 12 hours into my fishing since the last update, so it is clear that I need to be on the bank more. Life, however, poses rather stringent restrictions on what we would rather be doing - as we all know - so we just have to make do with the time available. Still, it is frustrating. Last night’s lottery result didn’t aid my cause either, so I will be sobbing into my pint again tonight and crying myself to sleep shortly after.

I was on the Vale last Sunday. A scorching day after seemingly endless downpours of rain, which was most refreshing. As I mentioned earlier, my lobworms were popped up about six inches, direct from a free-running lead, thanks to a small section of rig foam being threaded on to a very short hair; this being tied to the hook with the lobworms hooked as normal with a short section of elastic band securing them in place. After a quick dip in the margins, the medley of worms were presented perfectly, writhing in an almost artistic fashion well clear of the silt and weed. The other rod was baited with the head of a mackerel; blood still oozing from where its neck was once connected to the body. Simply hooked through the top lip, this sanguine delight was free-lined in various spots. Watching the head drifting slowly to the lake bed - after dropping it into the water for a quick trial - reminded me of the opening sequence of Jaws III, with the haunting theme tune becoming louder in my head by the second. A bloody delight!

Both of the above baits were left untouched throughout the session, barring the worms which, inevitably, drew the attention of much smaller fish. This resulted in an ‘hourly recast policy’ to ensure that my presentation remained excellent. If I had fished for much longer than I did, I am certain that a catfish would have eventually took one of the baits, however the time soon came for me to depart, sunburnt, with another blank session under my belt. *jingles tambourine*

During these recent sessions I have been contemplating just how many catfish there actually are in the Vale, and whether I would be serving myself better by moving on to a more prolific, proven venue. The problem with the Vale, excluding the fact that it is extremely shallow (1 to 3, maybe 4 feet at best), is that if we ignore my capture of the 12lb’er and a 14lb’er caught – allegedly twice in the space of 10 days! – there are no other captures of note, barring a kitten of perhaps 2lb being caught last week. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me in the slightest if the 14lb’er was actually my 12lb’er, but weighed inaccurately! Having said that, I did lose a catfish which looked slightly bigger than the one I caught, but there’s nothing concrete on to which I can form a conclusive opinion.

Obviously, the capture of the kitten bodes well for the future of catfish at the Vale, but I seriously doubt that there are more than, perhaps, a tiny smattering of relatively decent-sized fish there currently. I will, however, put in a few more sessions here when the weather improves slightly (could be a bloody long wait after a quick glance at the forecasts!) and take it from there. One of the reasons I’m clinging to the Vale like a particularly sex-starved dog on heat is because I want to learn about my quarry on a smaller scale – the way they fight, specifically – and get a few nice specimens under my belt, as opposed to turning up at a venue containing leviathans and being caught completely out of my depth. I don’t believe this to be a viable route at this early stage. In the meantime, it is time for some research into alternative venues and, more importantly, arranging some time off work so that I can properly reap the benefits.

Coming soon to a computer screen near you soon… "Zygote’s Capture of a Twenty!"

Or, if I’m to be realistic, “Zygote Blank Woes Continue!”