this just in from Steve Phillips;
So, how was the haunted pool? Any luck with the Leneys or their little cousins?
Had a rather splendid morning poaching chub from the River Bain up in Lincolnshire yesterday. Private fishing? Pah, I’m sure Mr Millionaire farmer won’t mind me getting acquainted with his fish for an hour or two. A lovely little stretch north of Horncastle – about a rod length in width at most and little more than 2′ deep in most places but packed to the gills (pardon the fishy pun) with chub. Completely unfished with steep banks shrouded in nettle but a dream stretch of stream.
Hares, barn owls, kingfishers, a pristine 2lb plus chub with my first cast (on the new Speedia courtesy of Mr Andrews) and about 30 more, including another couple that needed the net, before I packed up just before 8am in order to avoid making any sort of acquaintance with a 12 bore wielding slack-jawed farm hand.
Made a bit of a change from the couple of, very wet, hours spent on the tidal Trent at Laughterton on Friday evening in search of Barbel. Felt more like a bombing mission over Dresden with the 5oz feeders though. No sign, and couldn’t be sure if I had a couple of bites or if my line had been nudged by a dead cow or whatever else was being swept towards the Humber at a fierce rate of knots. After all these years, I still get very little joy from watching a rod tip; it just gives me a sore neck and sends me slightly delirious. Give me a stick float and a pinch of no.6 shot anyday.