I can’t remember the last time I set out to catch bream on purpose but yesterday I did just that. I couldn’t be bothered with the drive to the river but wanted to fish as I have mostly been watching all the football and haven’t been anywhere,……. and loving it I might add.

 So I went across the road to the old brickpond with a light tip rod, cage feeder and some of those soft hookers. Of course in the back of my mind I thought I might nick a tench but I knew I would have some bream, and I did, 9 to be exact. I even took a keepnet, which is now smelly and slimy. I had forgot what a bream net smells like to be honest.

Tref West once told me that you can always tell a bream bite, one tap when it picks the bait up, one when it is hooked and one when it falls over. Fight they did not and the prize for the most bream like bream went to a particularly docile 3lber that couldn’t have fought less had it been asleep. Still, It was a nice day and I enjoy catching anything these days.

Mrs Grebe was teaching her two young to fly. Back and forth all day, feet, patter, patter, patter on the surface as they ran and flapped at the same time. They did get airborne eventually if only a foot or so above the water.

There was a match on the far bank and I heard the shouts as a carp set off with half an anglers pole in tow. He took to a boat and gave chase but the pole disappeared below the surface just as he was getting to it. I laughed at the angler but felt sorry for the carp.

On a topical note I see (whoops) I mean hear, that even a Regional Organiser of the Barbel Society has called for the resignation of Mr Pope and Mr Bonney.

.