The Colonel's four fish in four casts

A Couple of Days from The Colonel’s Autumn Diary

It all began with a post on my Facebook wall…………..

“Well, what a splendid day. I've just enjoyed my lunch outside in the strong autumn sun, under a clear blue sky. A mouthwatering 'New York Deli' sandwich and a fine fresh brewed Indian Assam, made with proper leaf tea, of course.

A true 'weather bonus', for sure, of which I shall take further advantage tomorrow, with a day's carp fishing at my friend, Paul Drinkall's, private Willow Pool, in the hope of landing this little fella's Dad or Grandad. After that, there's the Korean Grand Prix to anticipate at the weekend. I've just realised, I was born to retire!!!!!!!”

 

Thus, the very next day found me on a familiar path towards Willow Pool. No specific ‘omens’ of note but, perhaps, a couple of indicators that I’d made the right choice. First one, there was a lot of activity in the hedgerows as the birds were feeding voraciously on the last of the summer’s food supply. All appeared to be LBJ’s…….or ‘Little Brown Jobbies’, as I refer to all those whose names don’t spring readily to mind, and who all look pretty darned similar anyway. Second, the potholes in the track were reappearing, a sure sign there’d been recent frost, which causes the stone filling them to move and loosen. And, of course, the first frosts tend to encourage the Golden Scaley Ones into their pre-winter feed-up. Optimism washed over me…….I was indeed hopeful.

The pool welcomed me. Calm and still, there was a sense of expectation in the air as I readied ‘The Bishop’, 10lb line and the proven Cotswold Baits’ Chilli Garlic Sausage. Mmmmmm, good enough for me to eat, they’ll not be able to resist. And, sure enough, they couldn’t. Not long before the alarm sounded a merry squeak, the bobbin rose and my blood pumped. Not a big’un, but a hard charger alright; it still managed to make my arm ache and heart pound. Paul had spotted the hooped rod through the open doors of his workshop and called Emma over to take a photo of myself and the pretty little battler. 

 

The little fella was quickly returned, no the worse for his visit to an alien world, but probably a tad wiser; he’ll be less easily fooled the next time.

A recast and soon the blood was pumping hard once more. This time a far better stamp of fish gave The Bishop a proper workout. Again Emma was on hand to catch the moment for me.

The Bishop poses with the pristine portly one……….the fish, not me !!!!!!!

Well, the day was becoming something special alright. But, the best was waiting just around the corner.

Within a thrice, we were in again. But now, the gloves were off. The pool had despatched one of it’s ‘big boys’ to show The Colonel who was boss. The Bishop had to strain a few more fibres in taming this big beast. Two or three times he very nearly made it to the sanctuary of those bankside reed beds, which would have meant curtains, for sure. But we won the day and a sharp whistle had Paul and Emma back at my side to help me beach this ‘whale’. Lovely, lovely fish……even gave the old Colonel a respectful salute with an erected dorsal fish for the camera.

 

Lunch was beckoning, but the fish had other ideas, and this lovely creature once more brought my kind hosts dashing to my aid.

So, four fish in four casts, all between elevenses and luncheon, and, although this diary entry is a tad short on words, I think the pictures tell the merry tale, don’t you??

To return home click: www.lonsdalepark.co.uk