From this...........to this

After basking in temperatures late last week of nearly 22C on the North Norfolk coast it was a shock to the system this week to be hovering around the 7C mark in the day back home in West Dorset. Lighting fires and hunkering down with a glass of something pleasant are now the order of the day. We are now entering the season of slow cooked stews, pot roasts and pike and perch on the river. Pass the port Gramps!

From this....

To this

The Man From Nowhere

Seeing as we are in the spooky season I thought you would like this little bit of children's trickery from 1976. I can imagine this giving younger children the collywobbles but back in the day we were made of sterner stuff..........I don't like the look of him in the hat though. I must ask The Captain not to ask me to let the dogs out for their last sniff round the garden before bed tonight.

Friday Ditty Pt 10

Market Finds No 13

Who could resist? Hidden in a box of house clearance and general tat on a market stall just waiting to be found and admired once more. Six delightful flies sold in a box of packaging once considered the norm. I could not resist.

Autumn tints

Austin Cooper - 1930

Miss Pressland - 1913

Charles Sharland - 1919

Chalk stream ford

Indian Summer

I am always nervous about taking someone fishing to a stretch of river or a lake they have never fished before - I am desperate for them to like a place as much as me, especially when it is somewhere so dear to my heart. I needn't have worried the other day. Even though my guest had paid hard £'s in an Avon Roach Project auction to spend a pampered day on the Golden Scale Club stretch of the Dorset Stour. He enjoyed it from the off!  

Keith from River Reads in Devon was splendid company and it's not every day I get up extra early to go fishing, but Keith had supported a mighty fine cause and I actually arrived early in readiness to show him the river which is unheard of. Ferneyhough Yates would be joining us too, but I knew from experience that we would have the river to ourselves until he turned up in the afternoon. Especially as I knew he would not have got home after his night ramble in the countryside until at least 2am.

The early morning mist was soon burnt off by a warm sun...........one of the last, I fear, of this perfect Indian summer. The spicy aroma of autumn and hint of wood smoke in the air gave a sense of cooler days ahead. The Swallows were grouping in huge numbers and feeding over the meadows and river to prepare for the journey ahead - I thought they had already left, so it was a real bonus to share one last day with them. The river did not disappoint - a wonderful bag of roach, dace, gudgeon, perch, chub and even a couple of jack pike to make Keith think he had hooked a monster was enough to make this day memorable. After a splendid lunch and more dipping of floats we three ended up fishing on either side of the river to enjoy the last rays of the day in the most wonderful of landscapes and in splendid company - real boys fishing as Keith put it and I could not disagree.

Before and after

The last of the Pink Fir Apple spuds have been dug up from the veggie patch - lovely gnarly looking spuds, with a few examples of rude veg to boot. Washed and cooked they are lovely with a knob of butter or in a frittata where these little wonders are destined..............the season of plenty is petering out......slowly.

Roach Rule OK!

I often get asked by angling friends and also by those who have never fished what my favourite fish is - it's easy. The roach of course. It has taken me a few years to realise that this is the case mind you. In the 80's and 90's when I would drive the length and breadth of the country at all hours of the day and night to get my fix of barbus I would have answered differently. I am as chilled out now as I will ever be with my fishing and get more chance to contemplate and reflect. The roach has given me the most pleasure - as a boy, teenager and adult. The red letter days in my diary are usually associated with the fish of red fins. 

The annual bash and fund raiser of the Avon Roach Project is eagerly awaited each year. It is a chance to support those splendid fellows who do so much to preserve an iconic species on an iconic river that I love so much. I have written before of their work which I find totally inspirational. A change of venue this year and very lovely it was too. I had to check my diary when I got home, but I hadn't fished this particular stretch of river since 1992 and whilst contemplating my surroundings over a bankside cuppa I realised I had fished this glide before......there had been a stile here on my last visit some twenty odd years ago and with a sense of melancholy I found the flood warn remnants of the stile post (see picture above). The memories came flooding back of trips with friends, some no longer around, and carefree days when fishing was the be all and end all. 

It was fitting that I should use one of my more recent purchases in the rod department. A lovely late 1940's Sowerbutts Roach Master (151 Commercial St, London E1). More of a general coarse rod than a roach rod, but a lovely thing nonetheless. Found by master tackle sorcerer Jason White - he knew that I would be unable to resist. Lovely agate rings, stamped handle collar and named rod bag - I could not resist!  

A delightful day - I have never seen so many grass snakes, wild bees, hornets and even a very late hatch of mayfly in temperatures more suited to August. No roach today though. Just a net full of chub, dace and grayling and on the last cast a pike that took my chubling............I'll be back! I won't leave it twenty two years next time.

Friday Ditty Pt 9