But Douglas J. D’Amore, the Sproul district forester, was unprepared for the massive size of the drilling operations that have moved into his forest in recent months to tap into the Marcellus Shale, the deep formation whose bountiful yields have triggered a frenzy that is transforming the way Pennsylvania’s public lands are managed.

“Just the scale of this Marcellus thing is much bigger than anything I’ve ever seen,” D’Amore said.

via Seismic rumbles in the forests | Philadelphia Inquirer | 11/22/2009.

Gospel: Jesus said to Simon, who is called Peter, and his brother Andrew, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Matthew 4:19

Word: to fish – To attempt to find or get hold of an object by searching among other objects

Though I have gone fishing properly, my strongest memory of fishing is of a sketch from Sesame Street when Ernie and Bert go fishing where Bert, ever the realist, fishes with his pole while Ernie shouts for his fish.

Spoiler alert: Bert, using conventional methods, catches no fish while Ernie coaxes dozens to jump into the boat simply by calling for them.

Ernie’s fishing tactics remind me of Jesus’ words in today’s Gospel. While they didn’t cry fish in a crowded movie-house, both Ernie and Jesus used their words to not only get people’s attention, but also to attract who they wanted to. Though yesterday I wrote about the importance of our actions backing up our words, today I’d like us to remember the of our words.

“It’s not what you said, it’s how you said it.” “Say what?” “Could you say that again?” “Don’t speak to me that way.” “Speak up!” “Did you hear what he said?” “I just called to say I love you.” “Can you tell me how to get to Sesame Street?”

That ye olde phrase “Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me” is a load of crap that even our child-selves recognized the first time we heard it. Words can hurt or heal, and remember young Skywalker, what you say will lead to who you catch.

Controversy surrounding drilling in the Marcellus Shale formation in the American Northeast is heating up again. On Wednesday, PoconoNews.net reported that the Pennsylvania Fish and Boat Commission (PFBC) will intensify their inspections of natural gas drilling sites. Rather than just responding to incidents such as the pollution of waterways and wetlands, they will inspect natural gas wells in an effort to prevent those incidents. According to Dr. Douglas Austen, the PFBC executive director, “we are now taking a proactive approach to identify possible problems at a drilling site and to work with the company to ensure necessary measures are in place to minimize the possibility of damaging nearby waterways.”

The concern over damaging waterways and wetlands comes from the way in which natural gas is extracted from the Marcellus Shale gas wells. The process is called hydrofracking, an extraction method in which a cocktail of chemicals are used to break up the rocks and release the natural gas. According to HeatingOil.com, the chemicals used in hydrofracking are known to infiltrate water supplies and have been implicated in killing livestock.

via Penn. Ups Inspections of Marcellus Shale Drilling Sites | HeatingOil.com.

I had a potential charter for Saturday morning that never materialized, but with conditions prime, this was the morning to cast care to the wind and go for it.

Equipped with a fast boat, two rods, a couple extra plastic baits, and bottled water, I headed out to Lake Decade before daylight in anticipation that this would be the day.

My special spot was waiting for my arrival, just before the sun peaked over the trees.  Hoping the trout were there, I wondered when they would be ready for breakfast.  All I could do was cast and see what happened.

It took a little trolling around, and a dozen or so preliminary casts, but by the time the sun shone fully on the lake, the trout were awake and feeding.

Off in the distance a clump of boats, bunched together, jockeyed for perfect position for catching trout.  I have this theory, though, that most fishermen are like sheep.  They rush to the lake, without a game plan, and once there, they look around to see where the most boats are congregated.  Figuring that is where the trout are holed up, they head there with full force, and the competition for casting space is on.

Not me.   A couple honey holes have revealed themselves to me over years of fishing this lake and have consistently yielded fish when conditions were right.  One has only to learn to read a lake and look for the fishy water. Additionally, those ideal conditions make the difference between a good day fishing and a great day catching!

Typically, speckled trout and reds roam the same waters, competing for food; and while some people target reds, they were by-catch for me on this trip.  Unless I have plans to grill a fresh red the day of the catch, I usually give them away to road-side fisherfolks who look like they could use a fish or two.  Other times, they get tagged and released.

After a nice round of catching, I took a little break from the action and thought about my readers, wishing you could experience the magnificence of the morning  In so doing, I sort of lost track of the fish.  Shortly, an older gentleman, also fishing solo, trolled closer and closer to my little area.  Before long, he found the fish and began reeling them in every other cast.

Not wanting to intrude on his good fortune, and since I already had a box full of trout, I cast nonchalantly on the perimeter of the hot spot. After my four nonproductive casts, he hollered at me,

“Hey what you fishing with?”

“A Blue Moon” I answered.

“Oh, you need to be fishing with a glow and chartreuse–anything that looks like a shrimp.”

Humoring him, and not wanting to refute his advice, I fumbled around in the on-board tackle box looking for a glow bait.  When I looked up, he was trolling over to me, a package of baits in his hand.

“Here.  This is what you need.  I been picking off fish along the bank since daylight, and the bite just now turned on!  That bait works good because it’s impregnated with garlic and it has great tail action!”

I thanked him, told him I’d also been there since daylight, and promptly slipped one of his baits on my hook.  A few casts later, the wind changed and the bite shut down.

He didn’t bother to ask me if I had caught anything.  If I had opened my box and showed him a limit of trout and one big red, I wonder if he would have  asked for his baits back?  He was a nice man who was willing to help a gal out and share his favorite baits.  I was very appreciative, and therefore decided against showing him how well my Blue Moon had served me.

With the first limit of the Decade fall season under my belt, I felt on top of the world–almost euphoric.  As I pulled up the trolling motor and waved goodbye to my new fishing friend, a growing group of sheeple boats continued their trolling dance for those speckled yellow mouths.

I just idled around them, smiled and waved as I left them to their trolling ballet!

Most of these trout had empty stomachs, indicating that they were indeed very hungry and that I had hit them at just the right time.  One of them had  in its belly a shrimp so fresh I could have sworn it was still alive when it fell out of the stomach, its rostrum pricking my finger.

The filleted fruits of my labor, piled high, remind me what a wonderful life we live on the bayou, with an abundance of marine life just a short boat ride away.  Trout fillets like this are hard to beat when it comes to a versatile fish.  They are good pan seared, fried, baked, broiled, and grilled.

There’s just something so mind-clearing and invigorating about a gorgeous, productive morning of fishing and catching.  If you haven’t been bitten by the fishing bug, I feel kind of sorry for you.  There’s just nothing else quite like it.  If you’ve never fished for fall and winter trout in Lake Decade, what are you waiting for?

To be continued . . . Trout Day 2

BW

Peterhead wins a national contest to have X Factor winner Alexandra Burke perform a special concert…. From BBC News. Full story

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Yipee, its really cold today. When I got up at 6 am it was below freezing. This is good news for those of us that can’t wait to hit the ice.  We had one of the most mild summers that I can remember so I was thinking that maybe we would have an early winter. But that hasn’t seemed to happen as it’s the last day of November and still no ice to speak of. I don’t really care for this in between type of weather, it’s almost to cold to fish the open water and there is no ice yet so I can’t go ice fishing. What’s a girl to do? Blog that’s what.  The fish are not biting in the Kankakee River for weeks now in my area  so I am having a bad case of fishy withdrawal. I think the last fish I caught was in October.  So basically all I can do is wait, which I am not very good at.

Sunday 29th November.

Club:- Watersmeet.
Draw:- 8.00am.
Fish:- 9.00am to 2.00pm.

AAAARRRGGGHHH. Give me an anti suicide pill please.
Why, oh why, oh why do we do it.
I’ll tell you why, because we are all numpty’s, thats why.
If i was’nt a space cadet before, i think i’am starting to get there.

What was the match like, it was s–t, crap, bo—cks, and bleeding depressing.
But besides that we had a good day. What went wrong, the alarm clock went off on time thats what.

Think about it right, Groundbait cost £5, Two match pack of worms cost £11.50p.
Half pint of maggots £1.25p That comes to £17.75p to catch a big fat zero.
Can’t grumble about the diesel though, as i only live a farts breath away.

Okay i have got that off my chest now. (saved the cat getting is nuts put in a vice).

The match.

Hand went into the draw bag, and out came permanent peg 49. Was i happy with this peg.
Yep i was, pegs 46 to 50 is Bream country.(must of took a bloody holiday though).
So i kind of ,hopped,and skipped to my peg, with a smile on my face.
I had Lewis to my left on peg 48, and Barry to my right on peg 50. The theory is if
you beat the anglers either side of you, you’ve had a good day. Well i drew with one of them,
and got munched by the other. So i suppose in theory i had half a decent day.
First hour i lost a fish, on the way in. Second hour i did’nt have a bite. Cut a long story short,
the next bleeding three hours i never had a bite neither.
Yup Blankety Blank, Zilch, Naffin (for you cockney’s out there).
Pughy on peg 51, who also had the Golden peg, was leading up to the last hour and a half,
when Barry on peg 50 strangled 3 Bream, and a skimmer to walk the match. Well done Barry, you saved the Golden peg. The rule of this club is if the Golden peg is not won by the last match, the money goes into the beer kitty, along with the money we have for our drinky poo’s at Christmas. Should have about six hundred quid to drink. Once again well done Barry.Mind you i would’nt have been so chuffed if i would have drawn the Golden peg. But thats life, ain’t it pughy (tee he).
Richard, remember (him from the last match at Lydney Lake), went walkabouts thinking it would work again, like at Lydney. Well it did’nt , he packed up, and was gone with forty five minutes left, (quite sensible really).
A puntured football went passed me with in netting distance. Yup i did, i netted it, for something to do.
Me, and Lewis had a quick five minutes kicking it around, got bored with that, so went back to looking at my motionless tip, which was frozen in time. Trevor fell over which was funny when i was told. Wish i could of seen it, it would have been a hell of a lot funnier.
Fair play, today would have put an insomniac to sleep. But aye it could be worse, i could support
Manchester United. Leeds, Leeds, Leeds.

Anything else i can say about this match, Well it rained, and then it rained some more. It was windy, Cold on the hands.

I think i better stop before i need those anti suicide pills again.

http://www.talkangling.co.uk/

THE RESULTS.

1st. Barry Matthews. Peg 50. 10-2-0. Won £60.

2nd. Graham (Golden peg).Pugh. Peg 51. 2-8-0. Won £25.

3rd. John Barnard. Peg 43. 0-10-0 Won nowt.

4th. Trevor ( I fell over) Dix. Peg 47. 0-8-0.

5th. Dick Lewis. 0-7-0.

New members to the Blankety Blank Club. (cost me £17.75p to join).

Lewis Bolton.
Richad Bowd.
Mark Hewlett.
And last but not least ME.

The did not turn up Club.

Chris, and Lee (the olsen twins) Fortey.
Tim (Don’t know what day it is) Pugh.
Jason ( Prison Officer in a women’s prison. Is that why they call them screws) Dallimore.
Paul ( found my arm, but not my watch) Ford.
Mark (i’am to important) Cornwell.http://www.talkangling.co.uk/

As that song goes, It can only get better, well hopefully for next week?.

Thanks for reading, see you soon. Bye for now STEVE.

Snuffy and Molly backseating it to FL! (shhh, don't tell the other dog)

Yep you read it right fair reader… my dog is 9.5 years old, and has never a) been on a road trip longer than 4 hours, and b) been to the beach (what kinda hippie am I?).  That is, til now!  Two birds with one stone.  When it became quickly obvious that I had no plans for Thanksgiving (disappointing on a few levels) that went beyond the usual gathering with my 65 cousins, 45 of whom I don’t really know, and my parents were about as excited as I about that continuing tradition, my Dad took up an offer to take us to the River.  The Carrabelle River that is – located in the sleepy fishing village of Carrabelle, FL right on the Apalachicola Bay… well, actually it drains into the Bay which is home to the best seafood, including oysters, shrimp, scallops (of which I’m fairly sure I had a pound each of this week) and is the one of the sweetest spots on the Gulf Coast.  Oh and sweet it was… it had been over a YEAR since I had been to the beach.  Probably the longest stretch since I can remember in at least 2 decades (read, since I’ve been able to drive – yoink!).  Sure, I’ve been having a wonderful time, but to go 13 months without a beach visit, holy moly guacamole.  I actually can’t remember the last time I visited the Gulf, dare I say, my senior trip in high school?  I love that shoreline more than any other beach shoreline I’ve been to (ok, Amelia Island ties it), and I’ve been to a few (most of the US’s East and West coast lines, the North Sea,  Ireland, France and Spain’s Atlantic Coast, Mediterranean and Caribbean Seas)… yeah, and you think YOU are a beach nut?  HAH! I laugh at you neophytes.  Yes, folks, at one point in my life, I wanted to be a Marine Biologist.  Ok, I’ll tone down a bit, but this is my blog and if I want to be a tad condescending, take it in the eye hippie!  After all, I prefer to say that I’m being feisty!

Ok, back to my story of the week… So, Dad and Mom suggested it, and coupled with the dogs were welcome at this riverside shangri la, and again, faced with no options to share with chosen family (sorry, still a bit disappointed… if you’re taking it personally, tough shit…ooh, there’s that “feisty” again!), I jumped at it.  Sure you may be thinking, but Molls, this is your family, why wouldn’t you want to be with them?  Well, it’s like this, since I’ve had no steady employment for the past year, I’ve spent a lot of time with them, and we’ve had lots of dinners and special times with each other.  As far as my other, more extended blood family, we’re not close.  There’s a myriad of other reasons, and those of you close enough to know why, know why, and those of you not, don’t.  I don’t really have to explain myself.  That and Thanksgiving, while nice as it is, is just not the most special day of the year, contrary to what some may think.  It’s neither magical, nor filled with the mysteries and traditions going back many millenia (as bastardized as some may be)… I liken it to Valentine’s Day, but with less chocolate and more dressing.  Don’t get me wrong, 3 of my most favorite dishes are served consistently with my family on this day… but sans one, they’re also served on another more special day.  Those 3 are: my great, great aunt’s cranberry salad – no, not that nasty ass shit you find on the shelf that for some reason people think is passable as a side dish, let alone food, and has a shelf life of 20 years – instead this is one of the best most sweet/tart delicacies my family’s culinary history can offer using fresh cranberries; the next is my Mama’s dressing – there’s nothing too crazy special with this yumminess, outside of the perfect blend of cornbread, celery, and sage all mushed into one (along with other things, of course) big pan and baked; the third is quite simple, but a huge tradition with every single “special” meal my family has… large, ripe olives.  Yep, you read right.  Those black beauties have been a part of my “special meal” lexicon since I can remember.  And, of course, what do I do with these beauts? Stick them on my fingers and eat them off one at a time!  What?  You don’t?  Well, if you don’t, you don’t know what you’re missing.

Oh, wait.. this was supposed to be a post about my dog’s first road trip and beach trip all in one, wasn’t it?  Well, I guess the story is set.  Anyway, my Dad’s good friend Jimmy offered his river house down in Carrabelle, FL, a town that should really only be 5.5+/- hours away, but took us 7 hours each way.  Mainly this was due to my parents enjoying full- on meals for lunch, stopping and starting for their bathroom breaks, stopping and starting for dog bathroom breaks, GDOT’s continual road construction around Newnan, GA, and the occasional getting lost around some podunk town square trying to follow state highways to our destination.  The coolest thing about the road trip was that the only Interstates we used were I85 and I185… all the rest were US Hwys and State Hwys.  Now that’s a neat way to travel… the blue roads – take you through old towns, podunk towns, crossroads, used-to-be towns, and lots of nothing.  Farms, waste lands, swamps, forests – both state and national were the norm.  What’s grown in that part of south Georgia/ north Florida?  Pecans, cotton, tomatoes, soy, sod were pretty much all I saw.  Cotton was going through it’s harvest… apparently a tad later than usual due to the rain.

Cotton field somewhere south of Columbus

<–Hi-speed cotton field there folks… driving back, most of these fields had been completely harvested.  It was an interesting thing to see the difference between the huge corporate conglomeration – supported farms and the rest.  The machinery is essentially the same, but some are more shiny and freshly painted compared to others.  It all looked the same in the end though, so I wander what differences there are in the plants themselves?

Anyway, thank goodness, also for doggie downers.  My parents 4.5 year old black lab is still very much in possession of her nutty ass puppy behavior.  Granted, my parents have done little to train this 80 pound goofball of love, so that really doesn’t help, but she’s just never taken to riding in cars… which really really sucks when you need to transport her and you DON’T want dog bites, slobber and a hyperventillating dog all over your car’s interior.  2 of the beautiful orange beauties barely scratch the surface with her, but she does end up falling asleep after a bit of disorientation/ hallucination behavior.  Janny is a sweet dog, but the training class was where the only training occurred… when that was done, the training was done.  She’s also about as goofy as mickey’s best friend.  Smart for what Labs are supposed to do, but that’s as far as that goes.  She can catch a ball and a frisbee and hold at least 2 or 3 of each in her mouth!  I find it funny that this pictures is slightly out of focus given the pharmies you’d have found in this dog’s stomach at the time of the picture.

Hooray for doggie downers!

Meanwhile, Snuffy rocks when it comes to riding in a car.  He’s always loved the ride, but it seemed he found spazoid’s lack of good behavior quite tiring and bewildering!

A bewildered Snuffy... "are we there yet, mama?"

Yep, Snuffy was a bit overwhelmed by the long ass drive, but handled it like the true champ he is, only occasionally succumbing to Janny’s fits and joining in the whining – but it usually had to do with him needing to go potty.  Finally, just before sunset, we arrived at our destination.  The town was quite unpromising, as I told my sweetie, I”m not sure they’ve even heard of the internet… no advertising had website addresses that I saw, and there wasn’t a coffee shop let alone an internet cafe to be seen within 40 square miles.  They call this piece of the coast “The Forgotten Coast”… not too surprising really.  The house was less than beautiful on the outside, but the view was absolutely stunning, and then it turned out the interior was quite comfy and nice.

View from the shore to the bay (via the river)......

Up-river

Looking upriver from the house

Across the river to the marsh…

Martin birdhouse, marsh across river, and the dock...

So, guess you wanna hear about Snuffy’s trip to the beach now, huh?   Yeah, I thought so, but you’re still gonna have to wait!  This river is tidal and brackish because of it, and when I found that out, I decided to ask folks about the fishing.  From a friend living in FL, I found out that I didn’t need to spend money on a license that I’d only use this weekend (cause let’s face it, who knows what life will hold, and who knows when I’ll ever go back to actually fish off of a boat… oh, and we didn’t have a boat), and I also found out that fishing is the best during a falling tide.  From the property owner, I found out that indeed fishing is best during the falling time, preferably during the more still times of the falling tide, such as the picture above and that shrimp as well as mullet are good for bait.  So, Wednesday, my Dad bought us some shrimps to go fishing with… not gonna get into the whole ickyness of live bait, so don’t ask… and we pulled out the rods we had found (then later found a bounty of about 25 more in the garage) in my room’s closet along with the stinky tackle box.  We went out on the dock and no sooner had a baited my first hook, and… my phone rings.  My sweetie!  Yay!  As we spoke, I felt quite accomplished in casting, reeling back and talking sweet talk… Dad grew somewhat frustrated with me and walked away because he thought I needed to pay more attention, but whatever.  As we spoke about whatever there was to speak about (he had stolen away to his room for whatever excuse he used), my bobber started jumping… I pulled, and nothing… and then it went down again (just the way I like it, hehehe), and again nothing.  Well, at this point I reeled back in and some damn fish had eaten my shrimp right off my hook.  ASS.  Yeah, that’s right, I called a fish an ass.  What of it?  Well, this happened several times, and finally after getting bitten painfully by the world’s worst no-see-ums, I gave up.  On Thursday, while Mom was putting the finishing touches on the creamed mushrooms and whatever else, Dad and I stole away to fish once more… Well, guess what?  I finally caught a fish!!!  YAY!  I made Dad take a classic “Just caught a fish” picture of me – you know the one where you’re holding the rod on one side and the leader with the fish on the other side of your body?  Unfortunately, it didn’t work.  So, once he unhooked the fish for me and threw it on the dock (???), I took the classic picture of the flopping fish on the dock.

The big fish!

Should I blow it up for you to see?  Yeah, I never said the thing was HUGE, just said I caught one.  And with that, I stopped fishing.  The next day… THE BEACH!!!  We decided that we wanted to go to St. George Island pretty early on… partly because we had never been there, but also because it was directly on the Gulf (as opposed to being on the Bay).  We headed out to Apalachicola for lunch… we all were excited for the oysters, I mean what else is that particular town known for?  So it turns out the state park is a no pets on the beach kinda place… bah!  I disliked this place already, but since we were already there, my mama agreed to hold Snuffy while I went to the beach to see what it was like.  We had heard it was one of the top 10 beaches… it’s not.  It’s nice enough, but first, they don’t allow dogs.  Second, Amelia and Destin and several other points in between are the exact same if not better.  Now, I can see that the reputation of it having the best shell pickings around is possible.  It was high tide and there was quite a rainbow of colors on whole and partial shells.  Lots of broken sand dollars too.  So we left, and headed to Carrabelle City Beach.

We got out there and the dogs had their first views of the “ocean”… read bay.  Here’s Snuff looking around my legs to the sea beyond:

Snuffy's first steps on the sand

He really wasn’t sure what to think… just another fun place to run around.  But then he got into it big time.  We ran up and down the beach,

Wheeeee!!!

watched Janny as she went out into the surf

Janny way out in the bay... really she was at least 30 feet off the shore.

And even got into the water with Janny!

Snuffy trying to help Janny find the stiCk - he's an expert ya know... hehehe

And of course, the obligatory “action” shots…

"I like the beach!"

and here…

The quintessential Happy Snuffy running shot!

and back again…

Snuffy's favoritest game... running back and forth between me and whoever else is lucky to be over "there"

The happiest dog on the Earth… imho, well, h-ish…

Really... the happiest, bestest dog ever.

I’m like a disgusting gushing parent aren’t I?  Well, that’s the joy of being owned by a dog.

Snuffy Dog, The Sun, The Beach... sooo Thankfilled.

Well, there were about 40 more pictures that I could’ve uploaded, but you’ve been overwhelmed as it is!   I do realize that I rambled on and on, and I thank you for your time.  Life is about living, processing, and living some more.  Oh and taking a dog to the beach.  Can we go back again, please???  Now?  How about now?

There were several title options for the post.  And there are so many things I’d like to include, or should I break things up and spread things out over time?

First off, I owe somebody an engraved Community Coffee Scoop.  Since there was no real winner of the on-the-sly-comment-contest I ran last week, I guess I’ll have to do a random drawing.  Or just point to the screen and see whose name it lands on.  I’ll do that.  BRB.

FOAM HEART!!!  Goldie!  You won a scoop!  Please email me your mailing address, and I’ll get that off to you right away!

Now, on with the post.

Fish, fish and more fish.  It was a very fishy weekend.  First off, I was supposed to have a somewhat high-pressure charter Saturday that never materialized.  Then I was supposed to have a more low-key chater, which never came together.  But I knew, I just felt it in my old fishing bones that Saturday was going to be a good day.  Three days before the full moon.  Falling tide.  Cool at night, warmer in the day.  E to SE winds blowing across my favorite lake.

Maybe, just maybe the trout are going to show up in great numbers and be HUNGRY!

But before I give that report, I need to back up a few weeks.  I’m not sure how I failed to post this.  RendRed and LilSis came down a couple weeks ago.  I took him fishing, and I think we caught about 20 trout.  That’s just an okay trip, considering a meat haul is 25 per person–I mean the limit.

But somewhere out there in the marshes of Terrebonne Parish is a one-eyed trout.  How, you might ask, would I know that?

Well, there we were, hauling in the trout, one after the other, when I hooked one and as I was reeling it in, it “spit” the hook. I really hate when that happens, but it does happen if the hook is not set good in the lip.

But when I reeled the empty hook in, it had something on it.  Something very strange.  Not grass.  Not seaweed.  What is that thing?

Ewwww.  Gross.  I think it’s a trout eyeball.

It is a trout eyeball.  I am so sorry for maiming that poor trout.  I can’t tell you how badly I felt.  Until Brad made a game out of it, that is.  The challenge? Let’ see who can catch the One-eyed Trout!

Okay, folks, lighten up.  We just have to laugh, lest we cry.  I just hope it survived.   I’m sorry, very very sorry, little trout.

Fishing extravaganza to be continued!

Oh, and Blufloyd was down at the Fourchon.  I didn’t see him, but heard he caught a bunch of fish.  Blu?  Would you like to do a guest post, with pics?

Later,

BW

I like to think that I know what I’m doing when it comes to fishing for Steelhead, especially on the Deschutes.  I mean, I’ve put in my time, I’ve been fishing this river for the last 17 years.  Now, that being said, I am not a guide, I do not have and endless supply of money, meaning that, yes, I have to work for a living, leaving only the weekends, and an occasional holiday to fish. 

This year has been the big Skunk for me on the Deschutes.  I thought I could get rid of it last weekend.  Only one thing really stood in my way, and that was the rising water level.  One thing I have noticed is that when the water goes up, the fishing goes down.  Starting Thanksgiving day the water started rising, and by Saturday was up 300 cfs.  Not a good sign.  As it turns out, my theory proved true. 

One of my good friends is a die hard Nympher, and I know if he’s not catching fish, then the chances of me catching one on the swings is even less.  This was the case on this day.  The good news, every time I’m on the water it renews my passion for this sport.  While I did not catch anything but one Bridgelip Sucker, (see my post on Bridgelip Suckers, case in point, they will hit a deep swung fly), I did have an excellent time with good friends.  The trip started with a circus ride just trying to keep the truck on the road.

As we closed in on the sleepy town of Maupin, we could see that the river was shrouded in a thin layer of fog.

Fishing started with my friend hooking what appeared to be a 1/2 pounder.  We decided it must have been a rainbow trout, as we have never heard of 1/2 pounders in the Deschutes before.

The White Fish Kiss.

Turns out this just happened to be one of those pesky rock fish!

The day ended well, with a trip to the Deschutes Angler to talk about the river and it’s fish.  Good friends, and good company, I guess you just can’t ask for more.

Hud.

When I discovered Harry Houdini doing this, I decided it was time for the boys to age up.

Harry very quickly rolled his LTW: Illustrious Author.  I decided he’d do this, rather than science, because he hates the outdoors, and I wasn’t sure about all that gardening.  He was given bookworm as his childhood present.

Eddie Kidd also rolled his LTW early.  He was given photographer’s eye for childhood and he wants a nice photo collection.  This LTW requires him to have a photo collection worth 25,000 simoleans and to have taken at least 10 photos in each location.  He will also be doing the photography skill challenges – which are actually quite hard, as one of them requires filling five full albums, and the albums each have categories of photo in them.  One category has ‘my grandchild’ as an option.  So yeah, not sure we’ll be aiming for that particular collection.

Harry Houdini is cracking on nicely with his painting and writing.  I put a computer in his room to save him sitting outside.  I am starting to put LTW-achieving tools in the bedrooms to see if having the nice colours in there helps.  In time there will be TVs, stereos and loads of artwork in there too.  Each bedroom (Sindy’s, Papergirl and Thomas’s, Piranha and Evel’s, Harry and Eddie’s) has its own bathroom though that doesn’t stop them using whichever they feel like.

On the subject of bathrooms, I do like the new ability to lock doors, though.  Reminder to self: upload housey pics.

I’d heard a rumour that ghost children don’t go to school, but my boys have been going, so that was clearly not true.  Not sure if I’m pleased or saddened by that fact.

Koi is now a toddler and she also has Amaryllis’s hair.  Gen three, you are made of so much win.

This picture is entirely for DB’s benefit.  Adorable, isn’t it?  She hasn’t been to the library to TSAL yet, but she can walk, talk and use the xylophone.

Another gratuitous cute pic, but also a reminder that I had to remove the nomosaic mod when I installed WA as it conflicts – so it might be worth removing if you have it, too – and if it’s been updated, can someone let me know?

Even more people in this family are getting older.  I aged Sindy up despite the game trying to pretend she was younger than Thomas.  I was very pleased the game allowed her to keep the same hairstyle, and I like the dark grey, it’s quite distinguished.

She completed all the painting challenges and painted both Evel Knievel and Piranha’s portraits.  I might make her try for the guitar challenges, but I’ll probably leave them for my future rock star.  For now she can cook and help with Koi.

Papergirl also aged up and hasn’t been able to review or interview yet, but she has only just gone back to work after maternity in the game, so we’ll see.  The businesses remain glitched, so we don’t own any shares right now.  As you can see from her bowl, the fridge glitch is still in operation.  Evel is at level 8 cooking now and has learned and prepared most of the recipes at her level.  She will be promoted to level three next shift.

Piranha is at level two in the grocery store career (her adult trait was friendly, by the way).  She’s going to top out the job, finish collecting bugs and go.  It’ll be a sad day, but there’s little else I can do with her, and I can’t face doing gems, metals and rocks again just yet.  I might leave that until I have a logic sim who can search for BDRs.

She is very much in my good books, though, because looky what we have here!  Now I know why one of Catherine’s DeCasim legacy entries was called ‘Behold the Trilobite Beetle’.  That little sucker has been taunting us for ages.  She eventually found it on one of the beaches in a spot we’d visited dozens of time before.

All my base bugs are here now, and soon we’ll have the WA bug tanks full as well.  This pleases me.

I wasted no time in sending Piranha away to complete the collection.  She, Thomas and Eddie Kidd went to China.  We discovered she could buy Tri-Tip Steak in the food store at the market, so she got to eat her favourite meal.

Thomas caught all the Chinese fish – I think – and has some plums, pomelos and cherries to take home to plant in the garden (he’s now level 9, which might cause me omni-related dilemmas in the future when it comes to kicking him out.  Also: I must remember to get some of Gen 3 gardening).

Eddie Kidd started to go out and take photos.  I discovered taking ghosts overseas is annoying.  They don’t run, they float, which takes a LOT longer than running.  Kids also have to obey curfew on holiday (though teens don’t), which is rubbish!

Fortunately, he can ride a bike.

Photography is an interesting skill.  You don’t see the sim with the camera, you see through the camera in a similar way to the camera phone, though.  We only have the cheapest camera right now, and I suck at using it, so our photos are not very attractive.  I do like the way the game tells you what the subject of your photo is, and what category it will go in, though.  His LTW seems easier than I first thought.  His collection is already worth 34,000 simoleans and he’s at level 7 already and we’ve only been messing about.

Here’s Piranha posing.  Once you ask a sim to pose you can then tell them which pose to adopt.  This could be a handy storytelling thing although we haven’t yet got good photos of sims posing.  The annoying thing about photography is it gtakes you straight into the camera mode as soon as you click to take photo,  so you have to make sure your sim is in the right area.

For some reason I don’t have many photos of China.  One sleep at home later, and it was time for another trip.  Piranha, Sindy and Eddie Kidd are currently in France and have only just arrived, so more on that next time, but…

…with this glowy butterfly, Piranha managed to complete collecting bugs in WA as well!

Join us next time for more France, more photography and more… other stuff.

Captains Log 11/29/2009 – The blustery cold front that moved through late Thursday kept the fish bite down, but as always there is more than one place to look for fish. After successfully bring in a multitude of species off the GH reef, we quickly turned to back country where the bite was less than impressive, a few small snook and snapper later we decided to cruise the buoys for triple tail. An underrated very tasty fish these aquatic delicacies hang out on the crab pot buoys and if you can find them they bite. Today was no exception and our party was able to go home with mangrove snapper dinner and triple tail to boot!!

Steaming South.

Its about 1,300 mile from Timaru to the Northern Ross Sea ice edge, it’ll take us around 6 days to get there if the weather is reasonable. (Unreasonable weather is more than likely).

Information we have indicates the ice is thawing faster this season than it did in 2008 and 2007, however, our records show much less sea ice during 2000 to 2005 than we’ve seen for the last 4 seasons. With global warming the hot topic of the day, we do not see it happening in the Ross Sea in recent years. 

The first job we must do before exiting NZ waters is check the sink rate of our lines to be sure they comply with guidelines set by CCAMLR. These guidelines have proven to be effective in the Ross Sea resulting in a zero seabird by-catch for all vessels involved in the fishery since it began 11 years ago. (Every vessel has at least one international observer aboard, the four NZ vessels carry two observers each, this is to help with the additional research we undertake). The line sink test is carefully monitored by both observers with the results sent to the Ministry of Fisheries (our lines must sink at no less than 0.3m per second) after that we receive a “warrant of fitness” allowing us to proceed to the fishing grounds.

Some of the crew making up fishing gear in the TV lounge. From left: Matthys (The CCAMLR observer lending a hand), Hamish (The Cook), Blain, Patrick, Adam and Sandy.

When I was a kid I worked for a few months on a trawler. Fish used to come over the side of the boat and be thrown into a big container on the deck.  If you looked into the container you could see them flapping about. “Flap flap flap” when they had just landed then “ flap…flap”, then the odd twitch and then..Nothing. The process took hours; it was distressing for me and very much more distressing for Mr Cod and Mr Pollock and Mr Halibut.

This brings me on to scheme liabilities.

The point of liability driven investment is to knock the liabilities into a comatose state in readiness for their being shipped off to a better place. Being brutal about this, the liabilities- namely the pensions that are going to be paid to the likes of you and me, sit more happily on an insurance company’s balance sheet than your employer’s.

Now back to the trawler. Once these fish had conked out and our quota met we had to got them down into the hold, covered them with ice then legged it back to port so that we could get rid of them while they were still fresh. Every hour was vital as our piscine friends were of little use to anyone if not in prime condition.  As soon as we reached harbour we’d be swinging the fish boxes onto waiting forklifts and hitting the auctions to find out what we’d be paid.

The worst thing was when we got into port only to find other boats lined up at the quay. Sometimes we’d be involved in a harum-scarum chase down the coast to find someplace where the fish factories and markets still had capacity.

The one certainty for the trustees of pension schemes has been the annuity market. The insurance companies have kept their doors open for annuity business through thick times and thin and though the price that trustees have paid the insurers to take their fish- sorry liabilities- off their hands has varied – there has always been a market.

Sometime in 2012, the EU Commission plans to introduce regulation on life insurers that is likely to put up the cost of buying out pensions by between 15 and 20%. It’s likely to reduce market capacity and force a lot of pension schemes to manage out their liabilities over time.

Now if fish sit in fish boxes too long, the ice melts, the fish rot and all the value of the catch is lost. The old adage that if the Equitable Life was a pension scheme it would still be trading today can be reversed.

If most pension schemes were regulated as life insurance companies are today they would not be in business.

Which is why we must be very worried indeed about threats to the buy-out market and very worried for our DC members about the impact on the cost of annuity purchase.

There is a direct link between insurance companies and pension schemes and that link needs to be maintained. They are as important to  pension schemes as fish markets and processing plants are to the trawler man.

So my friend Tim made a post about why he calls himself a glider pilot and it got me thinking a lot. What is it that I do? I knew I was a photographer, but what was I really? After thinking long and hard I have decided to call myself a whaler. Now, you may ask yourself, “What the hell is he thinking or even talking about?!” Well, I’ll tell you why.

See I’ve never gone whaling. In fact the only time I went fishing was roughly five years ago. My father finished constructing a pond, complete with two cherubs urinating into the pond; quite classy. So great we had a little pond in our back yard, but there was something missing. Fish.

We went to “Uncle Ned’s Tropical Fish” on the Millis / Medway line. The one that is open until 11PM (who the hell needs fish at eleven at night?) You guys know that one. We get some basic fish, drive back home, and plop them in the pool. “There we go! Now it looks better,” he said excitingly; but he still felt there needed to be more. So a few days later he decides to go to the Charles River to fish, and forcefully brought me along.

After we spent hours trying to rediscover the fishing poles that which were buried deep within what I call, my fathers timeline. Boxes, tarps, and more boxes, all tightly woven together in such a way he could only find. We drove off and we arrived at the river. I got out of the car, and sat there watching my father as he unpacked everything. We went down to the river, and started putting worms on the hooks. After he taught me the basics; I was on my own. I reeled and cast the rod multiple times with no luck, but then out of no where, a nibble. I quickly reeled the line back in and low and behold, there was a dinky fish on the hook, but a fish none the less. My father quickly unhooked the fish and put it into a jar for us to take back home to the pond.

So I told you my exciting fishing story and still you’re wondering why I’m a whaler. Give me a basic idea of what I need to do, in order to fulfill my goals and I’ll figure out the rest. I’ll find ways to do everything only I’ll do it on my own, and my way. Sure you may have some tricks to help me along to the way, you can share them if you’d like, but I may not use those tips. Instead I’ll create my own tricks to spread with everyone else. I’m stubborn and I need to catch the whales the way I do. I’m independent.

Like a whaler living his crazy lifestyle, I live mine.

I am a whaler.

What is it:

This is my grandfather, Murray Anderson, in 1942 at age 17, pointing his gun directly at the photographer.

Why is it Awesome?

Okay, let’s get a closer look at this. You tell me, what’s interesting about this image? Is it the bit where you can see directly down the barrel of what is almost certainly a loaded firearm? I’ll admit, it makes for an interesting picture –especially once I was assured the photographer is not now dead and quietly buried in a shallow grave somewhere out in the forest– but what is the wider context? What can this photo tell us about the life and times of the generation that grew up during the Great Depression?

Let’s take a step back and remember what we’re talking about here. This is not a couple of teenagers horsing around with firearms. Well, okay, it is teenagers horsing around with firearms, but it’s also one of those things that disconnects the Greatest Generation from my own. Even the Baby Boomers can’t really wrap their head around the idea that in the Great Depression, you fed your family however you could. Everyone had a garden. If you lived near a lake or a river, you fished. If there were wood lots around you, you hunted. You didn’t do it because you were starving. You did it because it was something you could do to make things easier on the family budget. It wasn’t a question of desperation so much as independence.

Clarence, Muray and Henry Anderson about to go fishing on the Detroit River 1942

So what does this have to do with the Great Depression Generation’s view of gun safety? My grandfather and great uncles were expected to hunt and to fish to supplement the food their father’s salary put on the table. Again, that was absolutely normal, whereas today it would be considered very unusual outside of the most rustic areas. Everyone with access to a rod or reel helped out. Up in Muskoka, over four hundred kilometers away from the Anderson family down in Windsor, My grandmother’s brother Wilfred ‘Pip’ MacDonald was praised for his efforts to always shoot rabbits in the head, so the fur would be of some use after the little guys had been butchered. It was a lifestyle that held sway over vast stretches of North America: Frugality, but also a tangible sense of self-reliance.

My great-grandfather, Elmore Anderson, fishing with his sons, 1942

My grandfather hasn’t held a rifle in years. I believe he gave it up shortly after almost shooting his wife. Sometime in the 50s (the story is hazy, as it is not often repeated), my grandmother was on her hands and knees, scrubbing the kitchen floor. My grandfather was cleaning his gun at the kitchen table. He neglected to check the breech because he was ‘Sure that it was empty.’ The gun went off, sending a bullet within a foot of my grandmother Serena’s head. There are no pictures of my grandfather holding a gun after that.

I asked him, “Didn’t they teach you gun safety in the Navy?” My own knowledge of firearm handling is largely through my time in the air cadets.

“Sure,” he said. “But I didn’t pay attention. There was a war on, you know!”

My grandmother leapt to her husband’s defense. “Our generation used guns all the time, growing up. Not like your generation. We never used our shotguns to shoot up a school.”

You can’t really overcome an argument like that. Her generation could be trusted with guns without lessons. Ours can’t even be trusted to hold them. That’s how far the zeitgeist has gone when it comes to kids and firearms. When I see that picture of my grandfather pointing his gun directly at the camera, I feel an electric shock run through me. He is only slightly embarrassed about the photo, and that’s because of an accident that would happen almost twenty years later. To my grandfather, the rifle was just a tool he needed to do a job. In many ways his youth was a simpler time, despite being a harder time. Our rules and education have made us safer, but they’ve also taken away some of the freedom of being young and trusted.

Anyway, the picture got me thinking, and as I have over a hundred of these old photos to put up on this blog sooner or later, I thought I’d start off with these ones.

It’s so exciting, last night the last vision I had outside was the herons in the tree.  I came in feeling bad I didn’t fish, but the weather was too cold. Ringo went to bed early and I monitored his dreams,  first it was Pinhead, then it was the ‘Saw’ figure.
You can see Ringo was having nightmares. I whispered to his subconscious that he must think lovely thoughts.  next thing I know, ‘Saw’ had melded into a sweet Casper  Then another being came in — ET gave him a cat massage and put him into sweet alpha sleep.   He slept all night until Payne woke him at 6:30am, if you know Payne, she is a cartoon political pundit who time travels using cat bladders, she needed Ringo’s.   He woke and left who knows where he went…
But back to reality, went outside and the heron pair were still in the tree, they are shaping twigs, building their nest it looks like, WOW do I feel like Chanukah Harry and Santa have left me a gift!!!!

The male snaps twigs off the tree and sometimes flies off and gets twigs and she shapes them. I have been watching and she drops a lot of twigs in the water below.  They must be new at this, wonder if these are kids of the parents in my neighbors yard last year?  The male gets kind of impatient and bangs her with his beak. She is working hard trying to make her home. I will keep you posted as to their progress. It’s so exciting I can hardly contain myself!

We all heard these nautical saying that help us remember weather warnings,the rules of the road and superstitious, sailors, seaman’s, fisherman’s, and boaters, all use them. Brought to you by:http://www.yachtinginsider.com/

1.Men and ships rot in port…

2.Smooth sea never made a skillful sailor…

3.One hand for yourself one for the ship…

Weather Lore.

5.When the wind is blowing in the East,
‘Tis not fit for man nor beast.

6.When the wind is blowing in the South
It brings the food over the fish’s mouth.

7.When the wind is blowing in the West,
That is when the fishing’s best!

8.No weather is ill, if the wind be still.

9.Seagull, seagull sit on the sand.
It’s never good weather when you’re on land.

10.When halo rings the moon or sun, rain’s approaching on the run.

For more yachting information click here:http://www.yachtinginsider.com/

Reference weather lore: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weather_lore#endnote_low

This is the time of year when some of the biggest fish in a lake can be most vulnerable to capture; so winter carp fishing is not as mad as it might first appear! Good planning and preparation including refinement of baits, rigs and use of using warm clothing and equipment is easy. Read on to improve your chances of big winter fish… The often different activity levels of other fish species and altered availability of many natural foods along with changes in carp behaviour in colder water temperatures can contribute to making them a little easier to catch at specific times. Very often the impact of there being far less angling pressure with only the really keen anglers going fishing makes thing much easier. Sometimes you can have the pick of the most favoured swims, although this can become a problem if fish are grouped in front of only 2 or 3 swims on a water.

Much less free bait fed is into fisheries compared to warmer months too and I’m certain this is a major factor in the downfall of many big fish which succumb to capture at this time. The easy free meals they have become used to may to a great degree disappear in winter time.
Some of my best most memorable big fish captures happen in winter between November and March. The catches can come in a variety of conditions and times and often during frantically active ‘binge’ feeding behaviour.
The periods after the water temperatures have evened out more after heavy frosts can be good for example in November. Evenings in November to December seem pretty productive in my part of the UK on certain waters when usually early morning (6 am to 8.30 am would be the usual feeding time. On the same water in January, on clear sunny days the fish might suddenly switch-on for a swift half-hour feeding ‘binge’ at 1 pm in the afternoon. If prevailing winds push in from the south, west or combinations around these, feeding can happen at any time.

” In February even during very heavy frosts which build up on your fishing shelter on top of frost from previous nights, the morning feeding may return again with fish appearing from 6 am. Around February and March, in swims most heated by the afternoon sun, fishing close to snags entering or in the water can be very productive. Reed beds soak up the radiated heat so heating the surrounding water making things a bit more favourable for feeding. Margin fishing in winter is far more productive than many anglers appear to realise. In fact very often if fish will feed at all it will be in water under 4 feed deep and not in the deepest part of the lake.
Reeds are an especially favoured area for me for this reason and they harbours all kinds of natural food too. Fishing under marginal overhanging bushes, branches and other cover are also productive. Any old established formerly productive feeding spots like shallow depressions, edges of drop-off’s, bottoms of shelves, gullies, raised spots, weed beds and lily beds, marginal and island spots sheltered from a cold wind, all can produce fish.

It is often the case that fish will come from swims that are still receiving regular baiting. In winter certain formerly ‘favourite bet’ swims may be very un-productive. Effects of prevailing winds in autumn and winter can really affect the location of over-wintering fish which frequently group together forming large shoals which can literally be most of the population of a lake tightly packed side by side into just one or 2 groups. Such a group does not necessarily choose the deepest part of the lake to over-winter.

Sometimes location of these fish can be down to vigilant observation of regular fish movements seen around morning and dusk. Often just one tip of a fin of one fish may be all you see. Using your end tackle to help you locate fish is an interesting exercise. Fish on the bottom can sometimes be located by actually reeling back a lead slowly and finding them by feeling them ‘bumping the line.’

” Often setting your tackle and alarms to the most sensitive possible will not only indicate a taking fish possibly otherwise missed, but may show you more line activity which can reveal whereabouts of fish. ‘Fishing for liners’ with slack lines and light indicators is often a useful trick; just changing your range until you get a bite.

Taking notes on fish location, exact feeding spots in a swim, feeding times, exact details of baits and rigs used, amounts of free baits used and form of introduction all matter. Notes when and where other anglers hook fish and their fish sizes and knowledge of their baits is all useful knowledge, but you never need to neither copy another angler nor necessarily ‘poach his swim!’
Notes on weather conditions are especially important as not only identifying the exact spots in a swim are important, but just finding a swim with fish in can be a real winter achievement! This information is priceless after a couple of years on a water
Fish location is often a big challenge in winter. Even knowing where fish may have settled in November or December may not be much help come February; especially if angling pressure and catches have caused them to move.
Often carp sit in the sun-warmed and more comfortable top or middle water lays. In winter it is often the case on many waters where a bottom bait in water over 8 feet deep may produce very little compared to rigs fished ‘long pop-up’ or ‘zig-rig’ style in the upper water layers. If you have ever swum in a lake at different times of year (life jackets and properly safely assisted) you will fully appreciate yourself just how much water can change and differ at times between the surface and going down deeper. Depending upon various factors, distinct water layers may be discovered of a different temperature and thus density.
There can at times be a significant difference between marginal temperatures and the temperature of water on the bottom in different areas of a swim. Judging your prospective results by air temperatures alone can be very misleading. Sometimes conditions can produce interesting effects which can be either productive or not!
Those nights where ground frosts and heavy air frosts create exceptionally poor visibility during high pressure are not my favourites in January or February. Neither are heavy night rains during changeable conditions in November for instance. Confidence can be easily dented in winter; this is where your notes from previous years can really help you.

You can fish in confidence pretty much whatever conditions are regardless of weather conditions. Fishing during times of icing-up can be exceptionally productive as the water may actually become less dense just prior to freezing and the fish can feed very well at such times. I find about 2 weeks after a thaw can be very good too depending on the water. For those less of a winter fishing inclination, why miss out on possibly your biggest chance of a new personal best from your water.
As spring approaches and the rising air temperatures start warming the water, some nights the air can become colder than the water temperature. On such a day, try and get your baits where the sun has been penetrating the water for longest in the afternoon sun; perhaps under an over-hanging bush in the water on the eastern bank facing the setting sun.
After an especially bright sunny day and as evening draws in a thick fog can envelope you. In such spooky conditions you can very well expect a big fish or a multiple catch as one of the first significant feeds of the New Year can well occur and you could well be the only angler on the fishery. As usual, if you hear ‘crashing’ fish then follow the signs and use your head! Casting at any moving fish at any range and moving your rigs every hour can certainly pay-off.
I find fish that have been disturbed by tackle and bait sounds and movements seem more awake and mobile and easier to catch being curious creatures. Soluble baits and highly digestible baits are very much an edge too. I’d rather fish 5 kilograms of soluble paste and ‘winterised’ pellets (with a surfactant lecithin product) than ‘conventional’ boilies or pellets, although of course these still catch their share of fish.
If your primary bait is the ‘Marine halibut pellet’ there are many ways to adapt and enhance their form, characteristics and practical uses especially for winter purposes, even leading to a new generation of successful baits for the coming spring and new season.

If you are confident, you will fish confidently and do much more to catch your fish. You will see and strike more usually missed rod tip knocks. You will make sure your rigs and baits are as finely tuned and well presented as possible. You will have the willingness to strike at single or double ‘bleeps’ in adverse weather when it could well be a fish. (A self-hooked fish can move very little in winter!)
You will even observe more fish to raise you morale, stay more alert and ‘in-tune’ with the regular rhythms of a water and more easily spot anything unusual or useful. Being ‘sharper’ you will generally catch more fish and be more energetic, positive and confident and you will enjoy your winter fishing much more too!

Often when you are less confident a fish head at night or a ‘line bite’ may be put down to your imagination; or thoughts like “It’s only the wind, or “That dammed duck, goose, coot, bream again etc.” However, maximising any potential opportunity is what winter carp fishing is all about. Having positively oriented winter fishing friends is a great help too.

I remember in early February 1980, (on my birthday,) I went fishing for a day and night on a water which had not produced a fish for 4 weeks previously. I had this fishing mad friend in this particular fishing syndicate, just as keen as me to brave the freezing temperatures. He brought us a flask of coffee with a strong dose of whiskey in it; which kept ‘spirits up!’ (It’s also an interesting bait dip, coffee works too…)

I had one ‘bleep’ with all my gear finely tuned and struck my ‘birthday fish.’ Such fish stick in the memory as the odds of capture at the time appeared so low. I even remember the bait, the rig, the depth and range and temperatures and that was one cold fish. When your landing net is frozen solid and when there is ice in your rod rings, holding a rod to play a fish can be both an exhilarating but painful experience at one and the same time.

My judge of a great winter fish is often how painful it is to hold a very cold fish instead of the snow or frost on the ground! (My hands are especially sensitive to cold!)

Following this capture, we refined various ways to exploit the fish having temporarily found them to exert our own influence on their location and bait orientations. Taking such an unusual opportunity with barely any other anglers bothering to fish the lake at the time, we quietly regularly baited a large area and had a very productive winter. Indeed we had very many multiple fish captures with some of the biggest fish in the lake too before the syndicate ‘clocked’ us! (Talking of clocks, you can get to the point in winter where feeding times are like clock-work and you can more efficiently use your time!)

During this winter period, I remember in particular, one member coming up and stating how ‘rubbish’ the fishing is on this water in winter. I could not help it as I looked at my watch and said “On the contrary; they’ll be feeding in about 5 minutes.” Of course literally 5 minutes later I hooked a fish and the guy just stood there in disbelief. (Little did he know I had a rather ‘bigger picture’ than him!)

Often one good winter trick to exploit is where a westerly or southerly or south-westerly wind would impact that area. You regularly pre-bait a couple of marginal spots of 3 to 6 feet depth and go a bit deeper maybe 7 or 9 feet deep up against a weed bed (these do often persist in mild winters.) Or simply choose an area next to a holding area like a set of snags in the water which are especially affected by south-westerly type winds. In warming prevailing winds in winter this practice can seriously pay off, but why be fixed in your approach.
> If water birds are an especially bad problem and you’ve found the fish, or discovered their winter patrol routes, you could bait with hemp heavily for example instead of chocking expensive boilies or pellets down their throats. At such times, boosting baits with acidic flavours and betaine with extra palatants or other amino acids products and additives for instance can work well.

I remember in winter we used Tutti Fruitti and other sweet and fruit flavours like ‘Cornish ice-cream’ quite a bit but savoury ones like butter, cream, ‘milk B’ ‘scopex’ ‘chocolate malt’ and spicy ones like ‘bun spice’ ‘mega spice’ and a variety of essential oils too were successful. Using various higher than recommended levels of fish and crustacean concentrates packed with feeding triggers were used very successfully also. In 2008 anglers would probably go for ‘chilli hemp’ or ‘n-butyric acid pineapple’ instead of a homemade cheese flavoured bird food oriented highly digestible boilie (and not a conventional round or dumbbell shape either.) I know which I’d personally go for to get an ‘edge.’
The rule still applies that achieving a big ‘edge’ by being different to the ‘crowd’ of contemporary ‘popular’ baits, methods, ‘conventional thinking’ and angling styles, can mean far improved catch rates and consistency in your fishing.

Even using a swim feeder to introduce flavour sprayed maggots and crumbed baits is a neat trick to get more attraction, movement and activity near your hook bait. Method mixes, ‘stick mixes and methods etc all work well, but the choices of tactics and baits are huge; so why think ‘fixed’ or in a ‘copy-cat’ stereotypical fashion?

The timing of winter pre-baiting or ‘strategic baiting while fishing’ with coming weather changes is an efficient method. Doing this particularly when temporary milder air temperatures, sunny days, or when relatively warm winds are forecast can readily produce multiple winter fish and a good chance of the biggest fish in your lake. Winter personal bests kind of stick more sharply in the memory.

This fishing bait books author has many more fishing and bait ‘edges.’ Just one could impact on your catches!

By Tim Richardson.
For the unique acclaimed expert bait making ‘bibles’ ebooks / books:“BIG CATFISH AND CARP BAIT SECRETS!” AND “BIG CARP BAIT SECRETS!” (And forthcoming bait flavour / triggers secrets book etc) SEE: http://www.baitbigfish.com
Tim is a highly experienced homemade bait maker big carp and catfish angler of 30 years. His bait enhancing books / ebooks now help anglers in 41 countries improve their results. See this bait and fishing secrets website now!