Not Quite About Running

Birding-wise I am doing nothing right now. In just the last week or so I've driven up the Axe Estuary a couple of times and noted with approval that it was crawling with gulls, yet not been the slightest bit inclined to stop and have a little scan. Such is phasing...

Doesn't mean I haven't been keeping my ear to the ground though. For example, I know about the Colyford Common Water Pipits. It's nice to know they're on the up again. On this very day 13 years ago I counted 20 in the damp field of maize stubble next to the Colyton Water Treatment Works, and while this was an exceptional gathering, for several years 10+ was not an unusual count. Recently though, for some reason they've been much scarcer on the Axe, and hearing that they seem to be back in numbers is very good news.

Of course, I haven't been to visit them. That's the nature of phasing. You just can't be bothered.

It's similar with Hawfinches. Yes, I know they're available at Shute churchyard. And yes, I know that Shute churchyard is something like half a mile from Kilmington, another place I work most weeks. Er, yes, I do even drive past it occasionally. And yet...

Still, I did go for a nice walk on Cogden Beach in Sunday's sunshine, and was delighted to be able to stake a claim* for Steve Gale's 'First Wheatear Photo of the Year' award...

And, my word, isn't that thrift out early too!

When I got home from work today I rushed indoors and changed into a Helly Hansen top, a pair of Ron Hill Tracksters, Adidas trainers, day-glo yellow gilet and red, red hat, and then charged straight out again for a run. I'd like to say a lot more, but this is a birding/cycling/fishing blog...

Ah, speaking of red hats. I just put together a little collage of the recent hefty pike I've jammed from the Exeter Canal, together with my previous biggest, which I caught by soaking a dead fish in a Colne Valley gravel pit for many hours in about 1999 or 2000 I think. I am pleased to note that once you have good taste, you don't tend to lose it...

L to R: 23lb 8oz, Nov 2017; 24lb 14oz, Dec 2016; 16lb 8oz, yonks ago

*Please see previous post, final piece of 'advice'

So You Want To Be a Blogger?

This morning I was delighted to learn that I have just won a Rambler, that coveted prize also known as the birding Oscar. Each year Neil Randon awards a Rambler to the 'Birding Blogger of the Year' and the 'Birding Blog Post of the Year'. I am especially honoured that a piece of NQS has won the latter category, because so little of it these days has much to do with birding. Jono Lethbridge of Wanstead Birder fame is a worthy winner of the overall award. Jono writes an actual birding blog...

According to some statistics that I didn't actually make up, since 2004 the blogosphere has doubled in size every 5-7 months, and right now almost 2 new blogs are created per second. So, despite what you might think, the blogging boom is far from over. There are currently more than 53 million blogs out there. So if you are wrestling with a strong urge to start a blog, please don't be concerned. Just give in to it and join us. There is nothing to be ashamed of.

Birding blogs are legion. In the last decade or more I guess many thousands of birders have sat at their computers, two index fingers poised uncertainly, wondering quite how to start their new blog. So, in my capacity as an award-winning blogger, allow me to offer some advice...

Post regularly
You want a definition of 'regularly'? Much more often than me.

Include photos
Good photos transform a post. If the photos are good enough it basically doesn't matter whether you can string three words together. The photos will do it on their own. If you can't write, get a camera. A really good one.

Don't post late at night after lots of alcohol
It's always annoying to have to delete stuff.

Always include amusing stories of monumental dips, accidental injury to your person, etc.
Schadenfreude rules. Blog readers absolutely love it. Don't ask me why. I have no idea. Personally my little heart almost bursts with sympathy whenever I read stuff like that...

Stick to your theme
If it's a birding blog, stick to birding. If it's a cycling blog, stick to cycling. If it's a fishing blog, stick to fishing. Nobody minds the occasional digression, but don't try your tiny readership's patience by jumping about all over the place. And no, don't even think about bringing running into it too. No, really. They won't stand for it.

Be old
Yes, being old is a fine goal to have. The older, the better really. Having decades of reminiscence on tap is brilliant for when nothing much is happening.

Make stuff up
This is a last resort, but of course perfectly in order when you haven't got any real stuff. But be careful. I remember one blogger publishing a thrilling tale of a rare bird tracked down and photographed. Unfortunately he published 'his' photos too. One was mine and the other was the wrong plumage. Unless you want to have to delete your blog and start a whole new one under another name don't do this.

Blogging is a curious enterprise. What exactly motivates a person to make those first, hesitant keystrokes is likely something even the individual would find hard to pin down, but there is undoubtedly something dreadfully compelling about it...

Here We Go Then...

I was up at 05:00 this morning and on the road not long after. The dawn pike raid is on. Right now it's almost 9 o'clock and I'm sheltered under a brolly in the pouring rain. No pike yet, which is par for the course lately. Here's the view...

On the drive down I had Radio 4 on. Farming Today featured the 92-year-old Lord Henry Plumb of Coleshill, who spent some time lamenting what he saw as the folly of Brexit. Having been at the heart of agricultural politics for the last half-century he was heavily involved in the several years of tortuous negotiations which saw the country enter the EEC in the early 70s. And now, of course, there lies ahead a similar process, except in reverse. I sensed deep frustration!

Brexit.

Aside from as an observer I've never had any real interest in politics, and Brexit neatly illustrates one reason why not. Apparently 'Leave' got 51.89% of the votes and 'Remain' 48.11%. If you were to take two clean sheets of paper, draw 5,189 dots on one and 4,811 dots on the other, then show them to some random passerby and ask which sheet represented 'the will of the people', I wonder what answer you'd get. Plus, of course, you'd need to just mention that more than a quarter of the registered electorate didn't vote...

I am not surprised that political discussions get so heated, so quickly. As I say, I am not a political animal, but those who are must feel like they're the subject of some infernal, never-ending wind-up.

Anyway, it's now almost 10 o'clock and I am still biteless. Time for a coffee, a sarnie and some quiet chilling...

On the Threshold of Another Year...

Forty years ago this evening my mate Pete and I attended the New Year's Eve revelries in Trafalgar Square. The famous fountain was switched off, but at midnight I nevertheless waded in the pool and may or may not have kissed a policewoman, depending on whether I fully trust my memory. Some time in the early hours we sat in a Fleet Street canteen where my stepfather, a printer, treated us to a hearty fry-up while we dripped Trafalgar Square fountain water onto the floor. And thus began 1978.

If I'd been blogging back then I could have done a review of 1977...

• Built my first bike from scratch
• Hair longest it's ever been. Cool!
• Mucked up the A-levels a bit
• Started university, but knew within a fortnight I was going to hate the course
• Hawkwind at the Roundhouse!
• There's this 'punk rock' thing...don't like it much
• Etc...

If I were to review 2017 there would certainly be some highlights. Finding a Hoopoe and jamming a spring flock of 12 Poms on minimal birding, for example. And catching a 23lb pike. And discovering that I can still run after a quarter-century layoff. That last one was a very nice surprise, and thinking about it, I'm pretty sure I haven't yet written a post on the topic. Now there's something to look forward to...

I'm amused to realise that my 2017 list would similarly include building a bike from scratch. I can honestly say it has absolutely nothing else in common with the 1977 version though. Apart from a keen interest in the appearance of my hair of course.

I was a very enthusiastic angler in 1977 and would definitely have predicted that I'd still be at it forty years later. That I actually am is a pleasant surprise to me today. What I would not have predicted was having so many years off in the interim and flogging all my tackle at least twice! Mind you, at the age of 18 I had yet to learn about my horrendous fickle streak, and had no idea what 'phasing' was...

Two years after Trafalgar Square I spent the final day of 1979 on the Hampshire Avon's Royalty Fishery at Christchurch, in company with my old fishing buddy Ric. If you'd told me at the time that my much older self would be planning a dawn pike raid on January 1st, 2018, well, I think I would have been rather pleased...

Ric, waiting for a bite...

...and after getting one. A 1970s barbel.

Anyway, I shall sign off at this point, and wish you all the best for whatever plans you have sketched out for the coming twelve months.

A Seasonal Post. Kind of...

Well, it's approaching that time of year when conscientious bloggers traditionally review highlights of the previous year. And if I was one of them I'd probably do likewise. But I'm not. I am instead one of the sporadic kind. Bad. Worse still, I couldn't even stick to a consistent theme for twelve months. Once upon a time NQS was a birding blog. Who knows what it is now...

Anyway, tomorrow is a Bank Holiday. Excellent! For many it is a joyous time of family get-togethers, of eating and drinking and cheesy old movies, of tinsel and snowmen and crackling log fires. If that's you, great. My own view of the so-called festive season is far less rosy, but that doesn't mean I cannot enjoy some aspects of it. Like, for example, the fact that not many anglers will be granted licence to be out tomorrow, so the riverbanks will be nice and quiet. Yep, Rob and I are going fishing. Mrs NQS will curl up with a good book and a glass of fizz, while the Haig men don their wellies and waterproofs.

And it will be a proper riverbank too. Not a canal. A local club has winter access to the River Frome, a Dorset chalk-stream famous for its grayling fishing. Grayling are not a big fish - a two-pounder is a specimen - but they are very pretty. They are also relatively scarce. In many years fishing I've caught just a handful, from the rivers Kennet and Hampshire Avon, and only tiddlers of a few ounces. On the Frome though, they are quite numerous, and the 4lb 4oz British record came from the river in 2009. A two-pounder is very possible, and even a massive three-pounder not unrealistic.

Rob, though, has never caught a grayling at all...

So, moved by paternal generosity, I have visited a couple of times already to suss out some good swims for him!

This is a grayling...

A 1lb 4oz bar of slippery solid silver

So far I've caught a dozen, and they've been like peas in a pod, between a pound and a pound and a quarter. These are decent-sized fish. It's fair to think of grayling in terms of roach, where a two-pounder is likewise a specimen. I'd be delighted with a dozen pound-plus roach! The photo above doesn't do the fish justice though. In its element it is transformed...

Look at the size of that dorsal fin! And the exquisite markings on it and the pelvic fins.

To be frank, I am smitten. I've been a bit spoiled by the pike, where although the fishing has been slow numbers-wise I have nevertheless jammed a couple of real whoppers. This grayling fishing is something else. For a start, it's like the fishing I remember and loved as a boy. A winding waterway of rippling shallows and smooth deeps, curling eddies and wafting beds of streamer weed. The techniques are simple too: a straightforward blockend feeder, or trotting with a chunky, orange-tipped float. Simple, yes, but there is plenty of room for skill too. Watercraft is vital. And trotting a float is something I haven't done in anger for many years. What a joy to catch fish this way! Finally, I thankfully haven't fluked an early biggie. So in this new venture there is a satisfying sense of gentle progress along the learning curve being rewarded appropriately.

That said, if I catch a massively undeserved three-pounder tomorrow I will not be disappointed!

In between grayling there are other fishy distractions...

A pristine little trout.

And this, believe it or not, is a salmon! These beautifully marked youngsters are called salmon parr.

So, whatever you're up to tomorrow, take a moment to think of me and Rob, out there on the riverbank, probably getting a bit wet if the forecast is accurate, but also very definitely getting away from it all...

Cheers, all.

Winning a Pint Back

You might recall that Rob and I have this little angling contest going. The biggest fish of each species caught during 2017 earns a pint. The balance is still leaning Rob's way at present, but earlier this week I managed to nick one back...

The pike campaign has been a bit of a slog, with loads of eel aggro and very few pike. We've both chalked up several blank trips since we started back in early October, and feel that the venue is beating us up a bit. Mind you, with Rob doing a few overnighters he does manage to hear the odd bit of gen from other anglers and it sounds like we're not the only ones finding it tough going. The worse thing about not catching much is the feeling also that you're not learning much.

Anyway, back to the pints. Pike-wise, Rob has two 16-pounders to his credit this year, whereas my biggest is 14:08. I say 'is', but I mean 'was'...

23lb 8oz of exceptional jam

So, my second 20lb-plus pike in less than a year, and a different fish too. In fact, they were caught more than two miles apart, which kind of illustrates the challenges (and potential) of this amazing water.

In a way I'm a bit gutted for Rob. He's put in way more time than I have, and really deserves a big 'un. Doesn't mean I won't savour that pint though...

Pike

Since the previous post I've made a few attempts at writing another but just dried up. And the longer I leave it, the harder it gets. The problem isn't lack of material but rather the opposite. Where to start...?

Anyway, filling a twelve week gap with one post is impossible, so here is just a small bite...

Rob and I have begun another winter pike campaign on the Exeter Canal. We've caught a handful thus far, including this one from October...

14lb 8oz of muscular sardine-eater. I wonder what happened to its tail?

Rob has caught the biggest at 16lb, but unfortunately I wasn't there and so the photo is just a poor record shot on the unhooking mat. Rob has been fishing right through the night mostly, and I've usually been able to join him until late in the evening at least. We have been absolutely plagued by eels! Occasionally they've managed to hook themselves, but mostly they just give you twitchy bites and shredded deadbaits. I did weigh one of the bigger ones, but at 1lb 15oz it was hardly a specimen. Rob deliberately caught an eel of 3lb 6oz on worms back in the summer, so I've no hope of winning the pint for largest eel at this rate. Anyway, I have no idea how to avoid the eels while the water is still warm enough to induce them to feed, except to fish more in the daytime. Unfortunately though, free daytime hours are at a premium!

Night-fishing for pike is probably underexploited. For Rob and me it's simply a practical way to maximise fishing time, so it's interesting to see what we might catch after any other pikers on the water have gone home for tea. That said, so far the only other pikers we've seen have been the occasional lure fisherman. When winter arrives properly I expect we'll see a few more.

Sea deadbaits have worked well for us, and we've tried lots: sardine, mackerel, herring, bluey, sprat, smelt, etc. To be honest I have confidence in any of them really. And in angling, confidence is key. Before I sat down to write this post I loaded the bait freezer with a freshly-delivered stack of deadbaits. Just in time too - the eels had nearly wiped us out!

I have one or two other angling projects planned for the coming months. Plus there is running. Yes, thats right. Running. And cycling of course. Birding? Well, there has been some birding, but not very much. And no, no Hawfinches. None at all.