TCAOTFC Prequel C



 The third Fluff Club outing (pre ‘Episodes’) took us to Moorhen TF. Heavy rain forecast, it started before we could finish our bacon butties beside the wood burner. It didn’t relent for one moment. Dell-boy junior had neglected to bring waterproofs, but fished anyway, believing it would stop. He was soaked through within minutes, whereupon the cold got to his bones and he returned to find warmth indoors. Even Wendy’s ducks and geese thought the weather way too wet, remaining in their respective accommodations.

Di5 and the zonker. reposing on my furries box



 I set up a Di5 sinker, knotting a black, rabbit zonker onto the business end. Close to the tree with the bird feeders, I made my first cast and I was in! After a brief struggle, I took my fish to the lodge for Wendy to bag, weigh, and refrigerate, pointing out a wound on the trout’s belly. Wendy suggested it might have been injured in an otter encounter, but I thought it looked more like a slash from a cormorant beak. Later, when taking the fillets off, my cut line just missed it and the fillets were perfect.

 I went into the lodge for a coffee, before wandering out to the far side to chat with the Sailor, who had also caught quickly, on a floating line approach. Dell-boy, Dell-boy junior, and Rodney were fishing on that island, with the Professor and the Admiral at either end of the ‘lake’, Sailor and Whytee chatting on the bank with the infant Meon running at our backs. The log doesn’t provide the data, but I think Moneypenny may have been fishing as well, also that most of us had gone for a two-fish limit, because of the weather and being twenty days into the new year. Anyroadup, I got my brace, and think t’others did too, save for Dell-boy junior (who must have been close to hypothermia) and Rodney, muttering threats to the gods.



 I caught my second to a green and white Wild Thing, again not putting up much resistance, but it was just great to be fishing, despite the rain. Wendy and Mark have developed a great little fishery, the only fly in the ointment being the penchant summer motor bikers have for the A22, just t’other side of the hedge.

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