Sneaking out for a couple of hours in the afternoon to try and catch a single fish wasn't quite what I had in mind when I booked this week off some months ago, but thoughts of catching a netful of tench have had to be abandoned, as I'm sure they will not be willing to feed in these conditions, which are actually too uncomfortable for me to fish in a stationary position anyway. I know this because I tried it on Saturday and couldn't hack any more than about two hours of fishing the punch, despite plenty of bites from roach, a 1lb+ skimmer and even a 4oz rudd from behind Wilcombe School.
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A shower, and a few hours warming up after that, left me with horribly dried, cracked and bleeding knuckles; as sure a sign as any that busy, match-style fishing is impossible to enjoy in such conditions. For that reason, and because sitting indoors for one day drove me insane, I decided to use up the few remaining deadbaits in my freezer and get out in search of a fish that I wouldn't have to exchange all feeling in my hands for.
Yesterday it was out with two rods and sardine tails to try and tempt something half-decent, as I played mostly a patient, waiting game, which would at least allow me to keep my thermal gloves on for long periods. I had two bites; the first I missed, and then a dropped take on a wobbled sprat, employed in desperation as the light faded.
Wanting to remember what a fish looks like, I decided to take the one rod and wobble for a couple of hours in town this afternoon. The three pike I took this way were small even for Tiverton Canal, and the tiniest could not have been six ounces. I also turfed in some crappy old sardines from the freezer at the end of the day. Not that I've come across a pike yet big enough to eat them down this end of the canal.
