A Red Letter Morning...

Its been two weeks since I last walked the Barrow's towpaths, Its not that I didn't want to be fishing but the "real world" was calling and for a change there was much work to be done. The barometer was rising yet the temperature was only tipping 1.2 deg C. when I pulled the backdoor behind me.
The dank cold morning started to brighten slowly, damp icy air caught my breath as I headed for the first swim. All the time the river flowed silently beside me, like a quiet slightly unfamiliar friend. I couldn't help it but my eyes kept scanning the water, I was looking for a sign or a signal of where to go but the river did not speak, it just continued to flow, low and clear after the unseasonal dry spell. A feeling crept slowly over me, I was uncertain, almost doubting myself. My time away from the bank had left me a little unsettled, the river now seemed like a vast endless flowing wilderness, could I read the water, could I bait up the right swims. I was on my own, no one to consult with or to talk up the confidence levels. Just me and the river.
In hindsight I was a lot more content once I had the baits out and happier still an hour later when a well rounded fish of about 8lb or 9lb came to the net. My confidence levels soared when slightly smaller fish hooked up  ten minutes later and was happy to pose for a small video clip with me!
 

I wanted to cover more ground, eager to capitialise on the feeding spell. I headed downstream to another swim, its a featureless stretch of river which doesn't evoke confidence, you have to have balls of steel or be stone mad to sling your baits out here as it looks nothing like a pike swim but nonetheless I had met fish here before. It was a gamble but with only one more swim in mind I thought it worth an hour or so. That hour passed uneventfully, I was getting ready for the next move when out of the corner of my eye I noticed a rod tip twitch, the alarm remained silent, it twitched again and then two solitary blips. I wound down a touch and waited... I pondered what was going on, no screaming run, then I felt it, the rod twitched again, I struck but into nothing! I checked the bait and had it back in the exact same part of the swim in seconds. I was playing "cat and mouse" with fish! I repositioned the other rod at the bottom of the swim and happily played the waiting game as the river watched on. About forty minutes later, the rod which produced the missed run earlier signalled the arrival of a fish with an almost unnoticeable twitch, it barely moved, not even a blip. I was intrigued to say the least as the pike gently mouthed or pushed the bait about. One more subtle twitch and I finally felt her move off. I struck, all was good. Such an incredibly gentle take from such a hard fighting river pike. A pristine mid double came to the net about ten minutes later.

As I watched her kick off into the depths the rod at the lower end of the swim gave a blip, I scrambled up the bank and witnessed the gentle twitch style take once again. A moment seemed like an eternity, two equally spaced blips and she was slowly on her way with the bait. A far more stubborn and agressive fish this time. I had visions of fighting a submerged supermarket trolley with a life of its own. As it came to the net, it turned out to be not a trolley! but a low double with a a lot character.

I could have so easily stayed and fished on but the school run beckoned. I couldn't believe it, four fish, two of those doubles and a missed run.....
My unfounded doubts and uncertainties had vanished as quickly as the chill of the early morning air. Maybe my quiet friend the Barrow had been speaking to me all along perhaps I'd just not been listening. We were on the same wavelength, in tune with each other once again.

Barrow Muscle Cars.

I've not fished the river for a whole week (six days to be precise), withdrawal symptoms were well set in by today. Living so close to the river is real a double edged sword, it would be very easy to spend a lot time on the bank and yet when your not there the mind often wanders as to what you might be missing!
I've been watching the river like a hawk, checking the level and colour everyday whilst on the school run, still no rain, things were looking good. If my memory serves me right, the river has not been this low and clear since last June. I couldn't resist it any longer, I was off out to get my Fix.
Heading to the swim there was a distinct touch of spring in the air, no coat or extra layers required today. I quickened my pace!
Two ledgered deads were the order of the day, the usual routine,  one popped up the other hard on the bottom. Ninety minutes in and an alarm burst into life, not a screamer of a run but a take of sorts. Fish on!...Oh.... Fish off... I left the bait in for a few moments longer hoping the fish may slam it out of frustration if nothing else but no joy. I cursed myself and the fish, if the truth be known.
I brought it in to see if there were any signs of the encounter. Once again it was all proper horror show, slashed like a Romero movie.

Things then went decidedly quiet, I moved everything around, changed the baits but the swim still appeared to be void of fish. I moved upstream and put the coffee on. I needed to cover some ground or water as the case may be. A 30g WaterWolf Scud float was now patrolling the new swim, third trot through, it bobbed and disappeared, that was the last I saw of it for some time. Through the braid I could feel the fish chomping on the hooks and rig, this was not a good sign yet some how all remained secure. This was one angry mother! A superb hard fighting river pike, this high octane fish was like a muscle car on a quarter mile strip... At will, she ripped line off the reel at very high tension quite a number of times.

By the looks of this of this old girl, she has seen her fair share of action in the past. She was very lean compared with other recent fish, clearly she has not been feeding up perhaps due to previous captures. She also carried a number of small cuts and nicks on her lower flanks and back. She had a noticable lesion or bacterial infection at the neck of her caudal (tail) fin. This could be due to stress or mishandling. I also wonder due to her condition and wounds was she maybe a post spawn fish, were the jacks nipping her whilst jostling for position (could some of the Barrow pike have spawned already). Looking at my "self take" timer photos she reminds me very much of a "summer pike". Tonight she swims, I hope she feeds up well and finds a place of refuge to make a full recovery.

As I mentioned at the top of this post, I'd not been on the river for about a week or so. I dug out a bit of old software one of the days (Windows Movie Maker) and put a few bits together, I suppose its a bit of  a look back at the season and blog so far. I think it turned out alright, Give it a click and let me know what you think.

Double Trouble.

Right now I'm very conscious of the fact that time is running out. Spawning time is on the way, maybe another two or three weeks left depending on water temperatures and levels. Time on the bank is time well spent. A chance to meet a "big girl" before she retires to entertain the boys. With this in mind I was at the river again (any excuse to fish). Nothing had been organised with the lads so I was on my own and had a morning to kill. I was on a solo, a RECON mission. Reconnaissance is nothing new it actually dates back to 1918 but its often overlooked in relation to angling. I was checking out a few new swims and some possible access points to various stretches of the river. All was going well, found some nice water and a road I never knew even existed. Back to the map and I was en route to the second location. This time not so lucky, large amounts of NO ACCESS/PRIVATE LANDS etc...
So, I ended up with rather alot of time on my hands, what else to do?
I headed to another swim for a couple of hours before picking up the kids from school. I wasn't long there when I got a pick up, the alarm signalled a slow steady take. After the string of dropped runs last week I decided not to waste a second and immediately struck into what turned out to be a turbocharged jack, he went off like a bullet and was in a proper strop coming to the bank.

Micro Jack.

From little acorns....

With nothing else happening I moved upstream a bit to a rather featureless swim and waited. It was almost time to head for the school run when the rod twitched a bit, or did it... The alarm remained silent, no drop back signs either. It twitched again, the fish moved and the alarm registered, this fish was in no hurry, a slow blip blip blip... I struck into a good solid resistance, she didn't budge. I held my ground as did the fish, we both knew we were in for the long haul. Eventually she turned and cruised downstream slowly peeling line off the reel. Not until I had to keep her out from the weeds did she make a few insane lunges (time to readjust the drag very quickly). After another run for freedom and she finally showed, a plump double by the looks. Like any river pike she put the boot in hard and held her ground as best she could, second attempt at the net and she was on the bank.

You know, it never ceases to amaze me how folk (not little people) magically appear on the bank when a fish shows up. A very pleasent elderly couple were sure it was a salmon and were extremely disappointed to find out it was a pike!

Another angler (Chris from Kilkenny) was very kind to spend some of his valuable fishing time helping me land, photograph and release the fish. Chris if you ever read this "Thank You"
A few hours on the river, two fish and the Barrow delivers yet another double. I was on the road and still in time for the school run. Sweet!

So what happened next?

The following day I was brimming with enthusiasm (an expression I hate but it was true), Burkie was off work so the Biker piker and myself decided to join forces and meet up for a few hours to see if the river might magic up another double. It did.......
Levels are now dropping rapidly, and the river is running with just a touch of colour due to the early spring dry spell. Conditions were ideal, we slung out a couple of deads, hard on the bottom and popped up. An alarm blipped as a fish snatched a bait. Alan was in.... (Alan was into the fight of his life) this fish was not keen to move on any account, I wondered if were glued to the riverbed. Eventually the runs came, the line cut through the water as the fish moved upstream still holding firm. Alan was patient... he had to be! This fish was in no hurry. I don't know who had the greater workout Alan or the fish, eventually I reached down with the net and she came to the bank.

Check out the small video of the release of Alan's fish.  I hope to add some more soon. So what a crazy couple of days, the Barrow delivers two doubles in two days,  I can't believe it. Can things get any better... I think so! Already looking forward to the next time out.

 

The Phantom Menace.

I'm scheduled for work all weekend so it was either fish today or not at all (today sounded good). The "Motley crew" were called up for duty, Frank the plasterer, The Biker Piker and myself. The venue as always, one of the three sisters, our dear friend - The Barrow.

We were at the swim and ready to rock n' roll by about 10am, surprisingly enough about twenty minutes later my alarm burst into life, it let off a slow string of blips as it registered the first take of the day. The angry jack went ballistic as it attempted to shake the hooks but to no avail, he came to the bank.

We covered water by leapfrogging downstream every forty minutes or so. Thats when events took a strange turn. All was quiet, my bite alarm sounded again, three slow solitary blips...nothing for a moment... then a savage take, the rod jolted, the bank sticks dug in, everything shuddered as an almost endless amount of line blistered off the reel, the alarm almost burst into flames....... a large fish kicked up a cloud of mud and weed. It was gone as quick. I was rattled, shaking and of course gutted. I brought the bait in, it had been sliced and diced, proper Chain Saw Massacre style. The game was up, there was a large predator in the swim!

David Muirin of East Coast Fishing

This series of events was repeated numerous times throughout the day to all our rods, hard fast takes yet all were dropped as quick as they'd been taken, sometimes the baits returning undamaged, looking almost untouched. I had visions of a phantom pike lurking in the depths striking at our baits! One particularly vicious take (the whole lot nearly ended up in the swim) was witnessed by angler and blogger David Muirin of the East Coast Fishing Blog. We were in awe, we couldn't believe the sheer intensity of the run and more so that it didn't result in a fish. We wondered if maybe a local otter was playing silly buggers in the swim but having said that, we didn't see one all day. No ducking n'diving, no rustling in the margins, not even a trail of tell-tail bubbles! Nothing! If there was an otter about he was operating with more stealth than a Lockheed F-117.

Whilst driving home the series of dropped runs played on my mind. An otter? I didn't think so but it couldn't be ruled out. Pressured water? More likely... its getting late in the season, have the pike in this stretch of river seen it all before and now know a baited rig when they hit it... hot potato syndrome. Lower resistance rigs and smaller hooks could be an option. One other thought crossed my mind, maybe they're just getting giddy! Perhaps their minds are just not on the job. Are they thinking about "other" things... They are in the last phase before spawning now, were they grabbing the baits out of instinct but with no real interest to feed? Yet many anglers would say the pike will be feeding up well before going to spawn, so who knows what really happened today.

One thing I did know, was that I'd have to go back to the river to find out. So not the most productive day but certainly interesting, highly entertaining if not a tad frustrating. Between the three of us, one fish to the bank, two fish lost, seven or eight of those dreaded dropped runs and one large elusive "Phantom Pike".

Lazing In A Slack.

Frank the plasterer had often spoken of this swim and I knew it well too. On the Barrow south of Carlow town. A text book pike swim, medium to fast flowing water with plenty of adjoining deep slow water. A perfect scenario for the pike, they laze in the slack water keeping their heads down and run guerilla raids into the fast flow to abduct their prey at will. Great theory!
To say I was keen is an over statement, I'd just finished ten days on the trot at work and was not really pushed to spend the day somewhere thats never produced a big fish for me (I had other plans). A few jacks to deads and lures was about the best I could account to this swim over the last couple of years.
I decided to leave it to chance! Maybe something would happen... Thats pike fishing, very often when your luck is down, when you least expect it, something special can happen.
So at the very last minute I threw the gear in the boot. A few ledgered deads were strategically placed tight up against the crease and the coffee was made. A couple of hours in and after moving the baits around a few times the pike remained tight-lipped, literally! It was time to tweak the gameplay settings. I grabbed the lure rod and started to cover water, Frank set up a dead under a slider float, leaving it to drift slowly about the swim. About a mug of coffee later, the float dropped. The silhouette of a roach against the morning sky proved to be too much for one restless fish...

Frank gets his fish.

The WaterWolf is on the prowl.

The WaterWolf has been out stalking the banks again, the water came right and my old mate Archie was on a roll. Throwing some of his own lures, a couple of big girls just couldn't resist his charm offensive. Archie will be showing his WaterWolf Lures at The Ireland Angling Show 2013 this weekend, stand H1. Drop by if you get a chance.

Mark Archie Andrews, WaterWolf Lures.

Get the full "low down" on Archie and WaterWolf Lures in one of my previous blog posts, check it out here!

Still Waters Run Deep.

Driving a pothole ridden back road in the early hours my phone gave a mechanical shudder, a text!. I grabbed the phone, it read "Just missed a good run". I hadn't even got there and the pike were on the feed. Alan had already wet the lines... With the recent rains the river's been somewhat out of sorts, running high, coloured and generally uninviting. Come to think of it, my own recent string of blanks has been enough to put me out of sorts too. It would be true to say the Barrow has not been its usual "crowd pleaser" self. So Alan suggested a change of scene (the pub seemed like a good idea) he was thinking of a still water! So with more rain forecast a venue change was arranged.

We arrived just in time to witness his second run, the float wobbled for a moment then tore across the surface before disappearing into the depths. He connected well, a respectable jack was landed, on the mat, unhooked and released. All this before I'd even put the rods together. The words, "arse" "in" "gear" came to mind... I got set up and put the coffee on.
All was quiet but not for long, The line on Frank's reel ran off steadily as another jack let it be known he was on the hunt. He gave up the ghost easily and was quickly dispatched back to the shallows.
We put in a couple of hours but all signs were that the spell was over, or the pike had us sussed!

 

 All tranquility and silence was broken late in the afternoon, suddenly Alan let off a string of obscenities, his float dropped on a take, a moment later a large fish showed its back as it broke the surface but then bolted straight to the refuge of the weeds not to be seen again...
So, there I was looking down my rods at my upteempth blank and then it happened, in the blink of an eye the float was gone! I dared to wind into the fish, was this going to be another missed run? No, I was in. Not a big fish by any stretch of the imagination but nonetheless I had duped my quarry, the predator had become the prey. This humble jack with his beautiful markings and colour had just made my day. The run of blanks was finally over.

Alan Burkie Burke - The Biker Piker.