Saturday, 11 March 2017

Pay The River Man

I'm not sure about you, but I do not measure my life in birthdays, or the calendar year. For me it's always been that nine month stretch. One minute it's opening day, you blink and it's over.

Six hours today in seemingly ideal conditions, resulted in a blank. No follows, no signs of fish. Three miles or so of river travelled, back and forth  and nowt. Why, well if I knew the answer to that I'd have a Youtube channel preaching to the masses. Flogging lures, line and christ knows what else, sitting in a Yoda like stance and making a mint.

But overall it's been a cracking season. Some good fish have hit the net, had some right laughs afloat with Gruff. Fuck me, every time we went out the weather was jank. An long may it continue, the laughter and general piss taking among a group of mates. No pretensions of being a superstar. It's a hobby to most of us, not an outlet for an ego and a lifestyle choice, rod in your mouth photo anyone?

The old boy is looking a little tired as of now, he could do with a break. Time to breath, talk in the ancient Entish language, without the likes of me, ripping off his branches while retrieving badly cast lures and fuck me I'm gold standard at that discipline.

So I packed up and came home, fishless but unbowed.

But as always at the end of my angling season I paid the river man. I'm sure it's not only me who does this. You owe him, for all the enjoyment over the last nine months. You throw your pound coin in, salute your adversary. I've tried to love canals and lakes, really have. But my heart belongs to flowing water, I'm lucky in that I seldom see a soul when out and long shall that remain.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Wednesday, 8 March 2017

Tackle Tart? Moi?

This little beauty arrived far, far quicker than expected. So it will get an outing this Saturday, for a few hours before we hopefully bury Scotland in the Rugby, more to life than fishing especially when the slam is on again. Against a resurgent Scottish side, should be a corker and hammering that lot would be superb.

6' 3", one peice, casting weight of between a quarter of an ounce and half an ounce. It's been a many a year since I worried about those weights, but you have to grow up one day. It was in a sale from these guys here.

It looks like I got the last one in stock. Did I need yet another rod, well no. But like others I've not got young children, a large mortgage etc. Denise and I both work, what she spends on 'effing shoes could keep me in rods for life. It's a constant stream of deliveries that makes the late Imelda Marcos seem thrifty.

Only downside was the import duty, the robbing bastards. Just shy of £75.00! A proper piss take, though I've seen a rather tarty reel, that has drawn my attention to sit upon this in the near future.The import duty on that has the potential to really sting.

Have a look here.

The  river season still has a few days left in it. But the zealots have well and truly jumped the gun this time! I know it's one of Bob Roberts favourite bug bares, every time this topic raises it's ugly head. But Christ alive, this lot are a law unto themselves. You will need to drag and drop on the links, if you're so inclined.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Tuesday, 28 February 2017

A Face Made For Radio ?

No not mine that will come at the end of the blog. A few of us have been out the last few weeks, with the intention of just having fun. Do you remember that? No targets, no aims or objectives just to have a laugh and bank a few fish. Fish how you want kind of stuff, you get older and  waking up at 0430 for work during the week the last thing many of us need is goals to achieve on your day off. Ok I'm lying, if I don't get a least one Perch this season over four pounds, then I'm a proper wanker. So we have been Jack bashing with small cranks.

Do not however, invite this man over to join you. Let's call him Karl, he is the LAS magazine art director. But he has a passion for JDM gear, now I like my tackle with bespoke rods built over the years from Lumby, Barder, Marty at Wye Valley ect,ect. We fished together last weekend, the wind put paid to our Perch fishing and those tiny plucks. You're supposed to throw your lures in the wet stuff, not have it blown back behind you. So we had good sport with Jacks and it was a giggle, raker rash and airborne tail walking. Karl had two set up's with him a nice Megabass cranking stick and a very nice Evergreen model. Mmmm, it's been on my mind since Saturday after using his cranking stick. Last night I pulled the trigger and ordered a Megabass Tomahawk from Japan, a little naughty I guess? But why not, I don't piss it all up the wall as in years gone bye. You only live once etc, so yeah do it. A proper bad influence is the man.

Here be the face for radio. My angling hero, Mr Gruff down on Chew the other week, move over Matt and Mick your time is up. Step forward the Shoreman and Gruff the care homes heartthrobs.

Good luck on the Broads this week though treacle.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Tuesday, 10 January 2017


Trust me you do not want this little bastard, Campylobacteriosis. Around the sixth of December I had a bad case of the shits for around five days, real the world falling out of your arse kind of stuff. One minute I was fine, then the shivers started so I went to bed. Come midnight was the start of five days of making sweet love to my shit house then it went. Hooray, just as well as Denise and I went away for three nights the weekend prior to Christmas.

We came back and so did the shits, but worse this time. Full on stomach cramps, shitting blood, real dark blood too. That was not mentioned to Denise at the time as it would have meant a trip to A&E. I phoned the local Doctors and no appointments were  available, but they could give me a telephone consultation. That done a stool sample was required. If you have never scooped a stool sample, into a stool pot from the comfort of your own privy, well you have not lived. It's akin to juggling in a gimp suit.

To cut a long story short, my results arrived back last week owing to the Christmas holidays. And the result were the above. I've lost over a stone in weight, but feel much, much better now. The cause? Well maybe from food? Or maybe from infected water? It made me think, when fishing and before having a snack, use the bloody antibacterial hand gel that is in the rucksack in future. It scared the life out of me at one stage, using Google to research your symptoms while awaiting your results can lead to a mind fuck. Don't do that, ever!

Managed a couple of very short trips on the bank, that left me feeling shattered after a couple of hours. Plenty of Pike fun on medium sized crankbaits, to keep the rod bending. Saturday week Gruff and I are off to Grafham reservoir for the day, let's hope the fishing picks up, as its fishing rock hard at present we are told. Fingers crossed.

This came into the Yat phone the other day, how true is this? The world and his brother seem to stride the river, canals and lakes at present like an extra from Tron! You need to be of a certain age to remember that out and out gem. Still shits on the latest Star Wars franchise, in my ever so humble opinion. Some good Youtube channels and Paul Bosworth's still leads the way for me. He can laugh at himself and to me that is what fishing should be, a piss take, a laugh. Catch a few, loose a few but just go and do it.

As you were.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Thursday, 22 December 2016

It's All About The Perch

The last few weeks the rivers I fish have finally come into winter trim. The bankside foliage has died away, making the fishing easier. Mr Perch cannot tuck himself away so much now, presenting a lure to the far bank cover is less problematic.

While it's been like a jungle, fish have no need to come out and chase a lure. As soon as you start your retrieve your bringing the lure out of the strike zone. I could have used the drop method of course, but mentioning on here before it's not a method I enjoy one bit-each to there own of course.

But looking at youtube and Face Prowler the nation has gone wasp fishing crazy. The world and his brother seem to be "Pro Staff", garnering a handful of soft plastic lures seems to elevate them to Ish Monroe or Mike Laconelli standard. Do people not just fish for the fun of it anymore, no it's not just me who does that I'm sure?

My crankbaits have been put away for the last few trips, preferring other methods. Though the other week was an odd one. I dropped into a swim, under my feet a little to the left a good Perch of around three pounds was holding stationery. I dropped in a Cenkos in front of it, not a movement at all. Done the same with an imitation  Crayfish, hopped it about, dragged it away nothing. So i clipped on a small crank, cast right behind it and brought it up past the fish on a slow retrieve. The Perch moved in a flash and ended up in a weed bed missing the lure by a mile, not to be seen again. I wonder how many times our lures and treated with disdain, when we can't see what's going on.

Just a few photo's of why I fish, the mornings, the peace and quiet. The just switching off and doing it. Doing it for me and me alone is enough.

Now we rush headlong into Christmas, my favourite time of the year. Though I'll have one more very short session on Christmas Eve morning.

So a very Merry Christmas to all.

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 26 November 2016

Thank You

Thank you, no really thank you to the wanker or wankers who today screwed up Gruff and I's trip out. All week we had been looking forward to a days trolling on a club reservoir, a new club for us this season with plenty of still waters as well as river and canal fishing so we are able to cast a line when the almost predictable deluge arrives.

A ninety minute journey and we pulled up in the club car park, jumped out and headed to the lodge. Overnight some toerag had decided it was worth a chance to break in. They failed but managed to screw up the sliding door, that is for the time being fucked. We could not gain access to get the oars, the boat plug, anchors for when we decided to do some static lure fishing. How desperate do you have to be to try and nick that little lot. I'm a lot of things, but one thing that I'm not is a thief. Total and utter wankers. So while we waited for Trevor the bailiff  to arrive I took a couple of photos and had a peek at Gruffs large lures. The boats look somewhat forlorn, in that they are stuck on dry land when they should be afloat on a glorious morning like today.

Gruff has got seriously into his large lure fishing this season and has had some good Pike, including two nice fish recently from where we were today. This little lot below, is only half of what we had in the van. That's without my gear. We decided not to fish from the bank, as we only had a sladle  for the boat, no unhooking mat and a boat net.

Nice collection he is building up, the downside is that Liz and Gruff can't afford to eat cooked meals anymore as the gas has been cut off owing to unpaid bills. Yep we are both right pissed off. So once more thank you.

On a more lighthearted note, recently I'd learnt that Marks and Spencer had launched a Christmas breakfast menu. It includes "clementine, cranberry, pomegranate bucks fizz". "mini croissants stuffed with smoked salmon and scrambled eggs". Absolute disgrace and so over the top! My Christmas breakfast consists of half a Terry's chocolate  orange, two bottles of Old Peculiar and a large Glenmorangie. Then and only then do I even consider getting out of bed.

I'm off down the pub!

Be Lucky

Monty D

Friday, 11 November 2016

A Fair Point?

This skit made me laugh, I wonder if the Labour Party will take heed? Perhaps they will think about people in a different manner, who do not adhere to the vision of a socialist utopia? I doubt it to be frank. Lilly Allen is no doubt contemplating suicide as we speak.

I've a few friends who are very left wing. It makes for interesting times and what next for Europe? People are fed up of being told what to think. How to think and now they have made their voices ring loud like the bells on Christmas Day. As did we who voted for Brexit!

Be Lucky

Monty D