The T Shirt Action Camera Mount

I am dead baiting for pike. For a lure builder this feels like surrender or the start down a slippery slope. I take comfort in the fact that at least I have made my own float from a couple of corks and some bamboo. This is the second swim I have tried and despite the sunshine it is bloody freezing and I am conscious that I may be found frozen to death with a rather healthy tan.  

My float is finally showing some signs that the mackerel a few feet below has drawn something’s attention. I wait until whatever is down there has decided to don a napkin and tuck in. The float starts to move as if propelled by its own outboard motor and then like Nemo’s Nautilus  it sinks below the surface. I wait for what feels like an indescribably long period of time but probably amounts to a couple of seconds and then strike. My rod is bent and there is a thud of fish while simultaneously the cold that has been gnawing at my toes disappears. I attempt to wind in but nothing seems to move and there is crunch inside the reel housing, I try again while the fish continues to exert some pressure on the rod but the reel is not moving.  

 I have one quote that I keep for moments like this, it comes from that literary masterpiece, The Viz and was often used by Timmy Timpson (aka spoilt bastard)  when things were not going his way; here goes   “bugger, bastard, bugger , bastard, wank”.  I consider hand lining the fish, but with branches touching the water either side of me it wouldn’t be the best of approaches. Realising I have only one barbless treble connecting me with the fight I tip the rod down and wait, the pike takes the float for a tour before managing to slip the hook . Never mind, I walk back with the rod up in the air and get the bait out of the water before pissing round with the reel ; my feet are suddenly cold again. 

Fishing The South Pacific (straight to video)

Image Above: Tackle Box made from an old video case.


I am sat amidst what looks like the aftermath of a rock festival, a long train of debris surrounds the lake like a tide mark. Summer has brought its fair share of litter louts to the pond, tins of sweet corn and empty bags of ground bait mix with half eaten packets of crisps and pop bottles, fish food and fisherman’s food.

The smell of weed wafts over from the next peg and in the distance on the far bank a voice breaks into a few verses of and old Roxy Music hit.  The vocalist is a big guy and continues to run through hits that may have been popular in his youth.  I reach into my rucksack and pull out a video, South Pacific. There is a pause as I look at the palm trees and dream and then I open the case and take out a fishing float.

Carving Balsa Lures

Image Above: A Roach Fishing Lure Prototype

After all the recent float fishing for natural prey subjects to turn into lures I have started on my Roach prototype. I began with a drawing taken from a photograph of a fish I caught but once I began carving the balsa the experience of handling real fish took over.  Again it is made in two halves with the wire and weights hidden in the centre.  Still in the early stages but I cannot wait to catch my first pike on this.

Wagglers

Image Above: Roach and home made balsa waggler float.

    By late afternoon the storm had developed into a small monsoon. Sheets of rain blew in over the surface of the lake dropping their load in fat drops that pummelled at the waters. Without a bivy or the modesty of an umbrella I padded through the ring of mud that marks out the island looking for shelter amongst its trees. This turned out to be a false promise as the wind took to liberating the rainfall from the trees at regular enough intervals to ensure I would not miss out on the bounty.

     Despite the weather summer has arrived at the lake; the stretches of water cleared by the winter die back of weed have gradually shrunk under the season’s new growth.  Even bank space is at a premium as anglers have returned from hibernation in public houses or curled up under the warm glow of a T.V.  sets.  There is little open water in which to throw a lure and so I have my excuses to fish with floats and bait. 

    There is almost a welcome rhythm to float fishing, tie on hook, slide a float up to what you think depth may be, add some shot weights to hold it and then hook on a plumb weight and cast. The plumb was given to me by a fellow angler who took pity on my early attempts to catch fish with a float. Unlike the other weights in my box it never ventures out as part of rig but serves as a temporary addition to the hook to find the depth of the water. I pass the hook and line through the eye on top of the plumb weight and then push the point of the hook into a small piece of cork wedged into a slot on the base.

     I cast and wind in stopping every few feet to check the depths, if the float disappears under the weight of the plumb the length between the float and hook is under depth, if the float lies flat on the surface I am over depth. From my plotting’s I work out that the bottom falls away sharply to a pretty constant depth only a short way out. I cast again and bring the float back to my chosen fishing position just beyond the drop off and the float sinks until its top creates the slightest lump in the surface tension; I am just on depth at about five feet. Once retrieved I unhook the plumb weight and move the small shot weights that hold the float in position and the float six inches up the line over depth so the hook will lie on the bottom rather than hang mid water like an apparition.

    I take four of the larger split shot weights from my selection box and pinch them on the line either side of the float and then drop it in the water. The float stands upright with the water covering three quarters of its length, I add another smaller shot half way between the float and the hook and a much finer one six inches from the hook.  When I cast again to deeper water the float settles until only half an inch shows above the surface enough to hold its own in amongst the ripples surface but still show a bite. The float is traditional waggler with a bulb of balsa at its base, the design keeps the float relativity still even when the surface of the lake is bruised by ripples. I am ready to fish.

    I hook on a single sweet corn kernel and cast again following it with a handful of loose kernels thrown around the float. The fish come in short bursts mainly roach of a good size and skimmers (small bream). As afternoon turns to evening the sky darkens prematurely and my rain filled bait box takes on the look of sweet corn chowder. I realise it is time to leave when I begin cradling fish for warmth and wondering whether wading in the lake may be the drier option. 

Balsa Jubilee

Image Above: Hand Carved Balsa Lure Bodies

Summer has missed beat and a little bit of early spring has once again reared its head. The lake water at least looked to have benefited from the cold snap and the rain; it had gone from its normal Campbell’s cream of mushroom soup to a light broth with a hint of ginger. I spent a little longer there this morning than I should of float fishing and catching my fair share of roach, skimmers and golden bream all candidates for a new look alike lure.

Snell or Whipping Knot

Image Above: A mackerel shelters from the rain
Location: Isle of Erraid, Mull, Scotland

I should have gathered by now that when the weather isn`t suitable for boat fishing it doesn’t mean it will be any better if I choose to fish off the rocks. This afternoon it wasn’t, it rained hard enough for a small river to develop inside my waterproofs and I had the sensation of wetting myself without the pleasure of the accompanying warmth. I stuck it out for an hour with a float rig and landed a larger than average mackerel. Having had to wait on previous trips for the mackerel to hook themselves after they had pulled at the bait strips for ten or even twenty minutes I decided against using a single hook opting for a new three hook set-up instead (see below). The mackerel took the bait on the first pull and the float disappeared. I waited before retrieving just to make sure it was hooked but half expecting my float to re-surface signalling the fish was still free as had happened too many times in the past. After a minute the line tightened, I lifted the rod and the fish turned and shot towards me. It wasn’t really a fight, too much like being at the fishmonger’s with an open bag.

The fun element left me finally when I bent down and the puddle that had developed in my hood ran down my back. Living on a small island at least ensures that the walk home is never longer than half an hour and in this case five minutes.

Image below: Alternative Pennel Rig and snell or whipping knot