Esox lucius

I can vividly remember the very first time I saw a Pike.

I was about 11 years old and had just trekked up the hard and frosty track in the (very) early winter sun, side by side with my Dad. It was hard work carrying our heavy tackle over the frozen ground, and we struggled on through the tall grass and stinging weeds towards the stony promontory of flat land that eased itself out into the waters of the glassy smooth lake.

Fred Buller's superb book on all things Pike

The gravel pits where we fished that day were known locally as the 'Finger Ponds' due to the long excavations cut deep into the earth like the fingers of a glove. Nature had re-colonised the earthworks with lush green vegetation and the adjacent river had filled the deep chasms in the ground with cold, dark water and a multitudinous array of freshwater fish.

I think we were after Bream or Roach or some other innocuous, placid shoaling fish. In those days I fished with my Dad on a Sunday for the sport alone. The spot we had chosen was next to a large Willow tree whose delicate gold green fronds trailed into the slack water to our left, and where aquatic debris and algae formed a pretty layered frill between lake water and bank.

As we emerged though the tangled jungle there it was. A huge Pike lurking in the green black slick. Seemingly dead, it's pale white belly was peeking out of the water as it floated upside down in the still water under the boughs of the tree. To me back then, a gangly youth of 11 years, the fish was a monster. Even now it would be classed as a specimen fish by most anglers at over 3 feet long. We guessed that it must of weighed close to 20lbs. A tiddler really though in Pike terms.

Esox lucius (Northern Pike) grow even bigger than this...

We went back a week or so later when, armed with a wire trace, some treble hooks, extracting forceps and a tin of sprats from the supermarket (no really), my Dad proceeded to catch a young 'Jack' pike. I will always remember the look of panic on his face and the trepidation on retrieving the hooks from the pike's large, teeth filled jaws after he landed the fish.

I have had a fascination with Pike ever since and have devoured numerous books on these freshwater monsters over the interceding years but have never actively sought them out since.

Now I've mentioned before that I don't hunt fish that I can't eat as a rule. But Pike are actually quite good eating. In days gone by thier white flesh would fetch a high price, above that of Salmon and Cod in thier day. And a 6lb Pike is a very worthy meal indeed.

I'm awaiting a much sought after magical gate key this week. One that will gain me entrance to some predator filled waters here...

Loads...

Last week I managed to grab a few hours by the river and check out that swim I reconnoitered on my last riverside walk.

A few inches further forward and into the abyss...

 It was blowing very gently (towards me, unfortunately) and made gentle ripples on the surface. I was quite sheltered under the overhanging trees. There had been a couple of days of rain before hand so the river was a bit 'coloured', but the fish were easy to spot as they were literally leaping, head and tail, out of the water, and coming down with an almighty "SPLOSHHH" every now and again.

This bit of river drew my attention last week as there's a fallen tree creating a narrow channel between the banks. The water glides slowly just after this obstruction and the fish leisurely loiter just below the surface to prey on whatever passes by them

Like a sushi bar in reverse.

The light's fading - just one more cast, honest...

I'd got thigh waders on. These took me out into the river about a foot before the bottom just dropped off into oblivion right in front of me. Did I fall in? Of course I did! Backwards fortunately so only up to my shoulder in cold water this time as I reached out to steady myself (or this could have been an obituary).

After I'd managed to hone my casting (several lost flies later in the trees behind me) I managed to find a rhythm and catch a fish! Followed by two more. All about the same size (about 1lb - 1.5lb). All nice Brown Trout with the most intense colours, golden brown with black, brown and bright red/rust spots. Beautiful.

Shaky camera with all the excitement.

I never seem to have the heart to kill and eat Brown Trout (certainly not this size). Rainbow's are a different matter as they are stocked for the purpose. These lovely fish went back after a couple of shaky, blurred photos were taken.

Off you go, my plate next time when you're bigger

Looks like the 'Grey Duster' did the trick, although the greedy buggers seemed to eat just about anything I flung at them during the last of the daylight.

I was so caught up enjoying myself I was late putting the chickens to bed. Tut, tut.

More fishin' trips shortly (after my op). Just had some more chicks too! More to follow...

Peace

After an exasperating week of chasing overdue invoices and treading gingerly over the developing political minefield that litters the allotment, it was nice to take an afternoon out on the river and do some fishing.

 This is a stretch of the River Derwent where I've had a lot of success trotting a float down stream earlier in the year, but yesterday I decided to try the fly and catch a couple of Brown Trout for dinner.

Unfortunately I must have used the fish repellent fly patterns again as they just didn't want to know. Typically, I'd remembered to take my camera this time to take some pics of my hugely successful days fishing but didn't actually catch any fish!

A lovely afternoon though, and did the trick in ridding me of my worries - for a bit.

So on the allotment front, I've now officially only got one for growing and the orchard for the chooks. Hopefully this will mean a pristine garden this year, back to it's former glory of the first year. The Red Beast did its duty again, easily chopping through the soil and clover with its freshly sharpened tines.


Just look at the concentration on that guys face...

What is really getting me excited this season is this years Grow Fish Eat project. As I type this I've got an unopened parcel at my feet. But that's for tomorrow...

Happy Days!

Here we are...

...photographic evidence, Mr Richard Dawkins, that Heaven exists!!!

You go where you want Dawkins, I'm goin' to Heaven (if I'm allowed in!)