Looking for pike

      Yesterday afternoon I took a walk along the bank of a new drain, a drain that resembled a salad bowl because there was so much floating weed drifting up and down both on and just under the surface. I had been warned that there was livestock in some of the fields so the two terriers were left at home and replaced with a rod, landing net, bait and minimal tackle.
      The drain was teeming with small silverfish and every now and then you could see and hear a pike working the shoals its position given away by the swirls and splashes, always just out of casting range of course. Despite the floating debris, and the non-serious nature of the session, three pike were caught on a wobbled roach deadbait, one bait was lost and one bait sacrificed in the weed. The single packet of five frozen deadbait was swiftly emptied, I knew I should have taken two packets with me.

       The first and smallest pike was carrying some scars on its flank, one old and one very fresh, but the other two fish were around seven pounds and in perfect showroom condition.
      The only sound to break the peace of the fen was that of Uncle Sam's finest from the 48th Fighter Wing at Lakenheath charging around the fenland sky pirouetting, rolling and twisting in their F15s but otherwise it was just the the wind in the reeds, birds and lapping water. Perfect.
      The season has finally begun so roll on the end of the week and hopefully a little spell of cooler weather. Some rain to colour the water too?