Three hours, three blood stained, racker rash hours saw me waving the white flag of submission. Not a swim, nay a cast would let me even get close to my chosen quarry. The Pike when they were not twisting and turning, while my finger was being ripped to bits. Were jumping clear with gay abandon, missing the lure by miles and doing somersaults. Every Chub in the vicinity were scared witless and slunk away. Time possibly has done for me with this little quest for now.
Change of plan, walk around two miles back downstream and try and see if a decent Perch was about. Little problem, only one tiny Kopyto in my bag, all the other lures were for surface fishing. If I got "Jacked" it may have been game over. Plastic fucked, good night and god bless.
I'll admit I cheated, chose a swim that does hold good Perch. It's not been fished by me at all this season. But, well you know how it is at times sporting behaviour get's kicked into touch. Six casts and a little nibble, slow tap. Next cast, really slowed the retrieve down and whack. I play my lure caught Perch hard, get them into the net before they realise what is going on. Just as well as the hook was out into the net.
Please don't rain, please don't rain.