Somebody told me the other day that, before Kim Kardashian decides what picture most flatters her and makes it onto social media, she might go through a thousand or so pouting selfies before deciding which makes the final cut. It is evident in my own photos that I do not engage in this process of whittling down and the result is that, more often than not, I look like a complete moron. PR and I were fishing together last week and I tried to get a snap of the two of us on the river bank. We are both exceedingly cool individuals but somehow or other the photograph does not seem to reflect this reality. Not even close.
Continue readingArchive for April, 2023
I was a little worried about my local river until recently. The barbel seem to have vanished or, at least, remained well hidden. Paul Reddish and I fished it a couple of times last week and it seems to have recovered to its normal self, at least in two of the three parts we visited. The first stretch we explored was clearly suffering from some source of pollution. There was foam on the surface and the river here smelled “iffy”. Unsurprisingly, there was no sign of fish life. It is sad to see this but it is something, unfortunately, that seems to happen most summers when the flows are weak and the various pollutants become more concentrated.
Continue readingThe black bass in Concepción reservoir have not really switched on yet but it is only a matter of a little time and, perhaps, a degree or two of water temperature. Today Johan reminded me that soon these fish will be distracted by the prospect of procreation and some more aggressiveness and territoriality will begin to figure in their behaviour.
Johan and I covered the usual bases from our float tubes: the deeps and the shallows, the margins, inlets, submerged branches, drowned stone walls. The bass, however, were having none of it and refused point blank to cooperate. Nobody was complaining, though. Fishing can be like that.
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