A stick float rod out of my boot, a box of maggots and a couple of trots in Peg1 saw me pull out a small skimmer and a roach. Enough to tell me to get my gear !
I ended up with a very enjoyable 8lbs ish of mixed fish from a venue I’d heard was ‘the pits’.
Two other sessions since, on differing pegs also yielded fish from this ‘fishless river’.
I had to check out the Hampton Ferry website. With no matches booked the weekend just gone, I was tempeted. Out of my depth, but tempted.
I pondered whether to book in.. Loads of voices told me no, but with nowhere else to go, club river matches being a rareity, I rang Mrs Raphael and booked. Saturday’s Wychavon qualifier. Twenty quid.
Last time I fished a match there was 19 hundred and ahem. I was a teenager, over 30 yrs ago, I think. A John Smiths Bitter event. They gave us all a can.
I got battered off the next peg by Lloyd Davies. You’ll have to be a certain age to remember, but he was a master angler of his day on that river. At least double winner of the ‘Argos Top100’ and a name I’d followed avidly in the table. I couldn’t fish the waggler properly and trips to the river were difficult.
I used to get the number 32 into Birmingham City Centre, with jumbo wicker basket and rod bag, clobbering the old ladies as I shuffled down the aisle. (The bigger basket you had, the better angler you were ).
Then the Midland red out to Evesham. It took nearly half a day, traipsing round the vale villages before arriving at Bidford, where I invariably tumbled off,being the nearest point on the river. I probably made less trips than I remember, but they linger in my mind.
Big days.
Back to the present…I’d booked in for Saturday ! There’s some very good, venue clued up anglers who fish these matches and you need every trick in the book really. What was I doing ?
The doubts were growing but I decided to ignore them. I had a plan.
Chuck the feeder wherever I drew, unless it screamed something else,and see what happens. Not normally my thing, but pleasure trips had shown me it worked and you can’t take the locals on at their own game. I’ve never fished the lollipop or tried for the tincas on the pole, so feeder it’d be, tried and proven in practise. Trouble is, we used to say the fish know when it’s Saturday.
Friday night saw a tropical storm in south Birmingham. Heavy and persistent rain the weatherman said. I was glum. MD’s website told of logs chugging down the Severn.
I daredn’t ask about the Avon.
Saturday morning in the tackle shop saw me adding a load of unplanned worms to my two and a half of reds and half ‘o pinkies. It was getting’ expensive, but I saw only coloured water everywhere.
Crossed the Arrow en route to see it bang on normal level ....and so it was at Evesham.. Quick mental revision of plans !
I wanted anywhere from 1 to upper 40’s but drew peg 70, last but one in the café meadow. Gulp.
But it looked fine …and I was here to enjoy myself.
I like this scratching lark. I managed 5 perch on the stick, four roach on the pole to hemp and a rogue bleak I couldn’t avoid. Not a touch on the feeder.
Not a mammoth haul but enough to provide a very intriuging days fishing. There were more fish in my peg, hard to find and hard to tempt but I loved it. Missed too many hemp bites too. The bugg*rs.
Took an age for the scales, but I can’t tell you how surprised and chuffed I was to hear
‘you won the section mate’, small section though it was.
Only problem was, I wanted a pee and two ladies were having a picnic right behind me throughout.
I'm going back for some more, 'proper fishing' when I can.
