Fog, Fen and Pike

      Up early on Saturday morning to be greeted by dense fog and not a breath of wind and my mind fired one word from the sleepy synapses. Pike.
      On the Fen the drain was calm and at times mirror like, apart from the occasional swirls of predators homing in on a breakfast of silver fish. It was almost a monochrome world too, but the atmosphere and conditions seemed perfect and it was a relief not to be battling with a howling gale.
      It's strange how clumsy you become when you're trying not to rush, fingers shaking with excitement but the rod is finally set up and now to catch the bait. Frustratingly the first three fish on the maggot were all Perch between half a pound and twelve ounces then several smaller Perch, all returned, and finally some small Roach, Rudd and Bream. No wonder the small silver fish were hard to catch, I think they were all hiding in the reeds to escape the underwater mayhem.

      This morning's session resulted in four Pike ranging from seven to fifteen pounds then it was home for a bacon sandwich and a cup of tea. I'll be back later this afternoon with our son Mike, to fish into the darkness in the hope of catching a Zander.
      Typically the late afternoon session turned into a battle with floating and submerged debris as the pumps at the end of the Middle Level did their work, with the water steadily picking up speed a beer or two became a great idea.
      Now for tomorrow morning, I hope it's foggy and calm.

      Wouldn't you just know it, at midnight it was frosty, then it rained and then it started to blow a gale early in the morning; but we caught two Pike in a two hour session, 12lb and 7lb, along with Perch and plenty of Roach and Rudd plus a bonus Ruffe.
      I do like a little Tommy Ruffe.