A Midsummer Article we just finished. Blimey O'Reilly its raining Hard out there.
It was a classic British summer's day. Torrential rain, blustery winds, the occasional sunny spell, driving rain, more gusts and then some. In contrast to the heatwave of the last two weeks which is now a distant memory, the weather had once again become all too familiar and reassuringly comforting. We were in one of our favourite spots doing what we love best, carp fishing. It was all good.
Ezra decided to float fish lobworms close in the margins, always a good technique for summer carp. I was going to fish on the bottom, a rod length out using the lift method, also another great method for carp, and always a good chance of a Tench. We were doubling our chances of finding fish using two different methods and we were sure our chances were pretty high, so we set to and fished.
Five minutes and Ezra was into a fish, a perch, what to expect using lobworm? we love to marvel at the Perch, it's one of the most beautiful fishes. Another cast another Perch and so on. The boy was fishing his nine year old heart out, grinning at my static float. "There are some big Perch in this pond" Jim the farmer had reportedly seen a three pounder, a big fish, could it be true? All ponds have a mythical fish to stir the imagination of the angler. "and who knows? it could be you're next fish" I said. And we re-cast.
Suddenly my float slid and disappeared under the surface. It didn't feel like a Carp. I can usually recognise a Carp. they are instantly aggressive and usually make a fast run, this fish didn't. It was heavy and felt like a dead weight. A Bream perhaps. I caught a glimpse of it's pearly white underside as it twisted and writhed towards the surface. It was an eel. A slippery sucker suddenly slipping the hook as I steered it towards the net, gone forever.
We had several more perch, packed up our tackle and headed home. Ezra sat on my knee as we both drove the car up the lane to the main road. Memories are made of this. Tight Lines.
