Ruddy wet evening

‘Soft.’ That’s what they call it here. In Scotland we would say it was pelting cats and dogs, in London they would be building an ark. It was a grand soft evening so I ventured out with the rods in the bucketing rain and drove up to Keenagh in county Longford. Here, a basin on the Royal canal is normally busy but I figured the weather would keep all but the hardiest (or foolish) away. So I splashed my way along the back roads and turned into the little car park just as the rain eased off a little. This might no be so bad after all I mused as I tackled up. Picking a spot at random the usual palaver of ground baiting, threading rings and generally setting up too me a while but eventually I was fishing. The very first cast resulted in a good rudd which grabbed the maggots before they could get the the bottom. This proved to be a precursor for the session.

A size 14 under a small waggler and baited with three maggots was proving to be irresistible to the gorgeous golden fish. Most were small but a couple would have neared the pound mark. Rain returned and hung around, rivulets running off my waterproofs and pooling in a dip in the towpath at my feet. Reeling in yet another rudd, the water exploded behind the hapless fish as a pike lunged at it, missing by a fraction. This happed twice more, the second time snapping my line as the bold pike swallowed the wee rudd. Thoughts of nipping back to the car to fetch a spinning rod were briefly considered but rejected. Instead I tied on a new three pound hook length before resuming operations. More rudd and a lonesome hybrid came to my soggy hand. Stoically I fished on despite the ever worsening conditions.

Small rudd were preventing my baited hook from even getting near to the silty bottom, virtually every cast resulting in another fish to wind in, unhook and release. Once more the float dipped and a flash of gold under the surface showed where the fish was. This time though an almighty wallop signalled mrs pike was back on the hunt. The reel sang and my old float rod bent as we locked in battle. I’m normally very disparaging about the fight a pike puts up but this girl gave me the run around on my light tackle. I got her in the end though and she was soon back in the canal without my hook in the corner of her mouth.

Trying to convince myself there was a a chance of a tench, I battled on in the miserable conditions. Of course there never was any tench nibbling my maggots, just more and more rudd. In the end I broke the rods down and made my way back to the car. I suppose many of you are thinking why did I not try the feeder? The answer is I was using a feeder for the whole session. Not so much as a tweak was registered on that rod for the whole soggy session. If you are someone who can’t stand be out in the rain then Ireland is not the country for you. I don’t really mind it and just tend to get on with what I am doing regardless of the precipitation.

It might not have been the greatest session of my angling career there was a certain ‘something’ about being on the edge of the canal this evening. With none of the usual dog walkers, joggers or cyclists around I had the towpath to myself. So what if my gear got wet, it will all dry off in a day or two. We are nearly into August and the days will soon be shortening. A long winter lies ahead, with dark nights beside a fire and not a canal. I’m glad I made the effort to fish this evening, even if all I did was bother a few rudd (and a pike).