Bob Roberts’ diary

ITHINK we can finally safely say goodbye, and indeed good riddance to the winter past. It was a grim one but that tiny glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel finally burst into a solar flare and fish began feeding everywhere. It’s an absolute joy to be an angler at this time of year and, as you will discover in this month’s diary, there’s no end to the opportunities available. I must say I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my mixed bag of angling experiences.

Week one...

I’m sure you’re familiar with the term genesis and by that I don’t mean the old progressive rock band of that name. No, I’m referring to the old Greek word that means beginning. I reckon angling has its own annual genesis, a specific day in early spring when everything seems to suddenly wake up and a new catching season begins. The long, miserable winter is finally left behind and the birds are making as much noise as they possibly can to attract a mate (rather like anglers on social media!). Waters that were in the doldrums will suddenly burst into life and fish are showing everywhere. What’s more they are hungry and so much easier to catch on ‘genesis day’ than they will be on any other day of the season. If only you could pin it down to a specific date. Sadly you can’t. Factors such as daylight hours, air pressure, water temperature, wind direction and precipitation (or lack of it) coincide to make things happen and if you are there, on genesis day, fishing can be fantastic. As it was when I visited a local carp lake with Brian Skoyles. We used one stalking rod between us and shared the joy of encouraging fish to feed on the surface because, I’m sure you’ll agree, any carp caught off the top is worth at least three off the bottom – at least that’s what we think! And sharing a rod means one of you gets to take those thrilling action shots that scream what fishing is really about. We’d barely got started when who should amble down the bank to ask if we might photograph a fish for him but Julian Cundiff. Normally he’s happy to do his own self-takes but it turned out he’d just netted a decent catfish and they can be a tad awkward to photograph on your own so we were more than happy to oblige. After that it was down to the business of stalking and tricking visibly active carp. It’s fair to say we had a belting time catching plenty of fish. Big commons off the top? It doesn’t get much better. Our home-made controller zipped across the surface when a take occurred and hitting bites seemed oh so simple. How different that will be in a few weeks time when the fish have seen a bit of action. Hookbaits will be sucked in and spat out in a blink. But in the meantime, boy, did we fill our boots.

Week two...

It’s probably fair to say we all know at least one obsessive angler whose dereliction of family duties has ended in disaster, who on reflection probably regrets the time(s) he (it’s always a bloke!) might have taken his partner on holiday instead of spending an absolute fortune on the latest must-have gear or expensive syndicate tickets. Happiness is all about balance and perspective. And that’s why this week I was to be found sailing around the Caribbean Sea in total luxury while earning an abundance of Brownie points in good time before the river season opens. The things we anglers have to suffer for our passion! Of course, no holiday would be quite complete if I didn’t pack a travel rod and a few bits and bobs – just in case, you understand. Invariably there’s an opportunity at some point in a trip where I can sneak off for an hour or two, especially if my better half can sunbathe close by while I wet a line. Despite passing through the Panama Canal into Gatun Lake, the opportunity to cast a lure at its world-renowned peacock bass didn’t materialise. Things got no better in Jamaica where Google Earth revealed a mouth- watering wooden jetty within sight of our docking point but security issues ruled that one out. Fortunately, our final port of call threw up a golden opportunity. Grand Cayman is one of the safest islands around. Let’s face it, in a tax haven where there are more registered businesses than actual people, street crime doesn’t register high on the radar. As for fishing potential, I’d not walked a hundred yards along the sea front when I happened upon a shoal of huge tarpon within feet of the shore. These fish were four, five, perhaps six feet long in crystal-clear water! I had to consider the chances of landing such a beast on my six-piece spinning rod, 10lb line and a limited selection of undergunned terminal tackle. The odds were stacked against me but that didn’t matter because the fish were not interested in anything I threw at them. Only later, in an adjacent bar, did I spot a sign telling customers to come along at 7.30pm and see the fish being fed. Clearly a case of right place, wrong time. Feeding time was not 11am. I revised my expectations and set about catching some bait. Something resembling a small bream became my bait supply. Presenting strips of bream flesh gave me lots of fun with one particular species that I presume is a member of the gar family. These skinny fish are near-surface cruisers that you can pick out and cast to. They’re devils to hook but fight acrobatically when you succeed. I returned to the ship happy to have had my string pulled and so was ‘she who must be obeyed’. That’s a win-win.

Week three...

For the past 21 years I’ve been the custodian of a competition aimed at grass-roots match anglers living in and around South Yorkshire that had already been going for 20 years when I took on the mantle of organiser. Very few match fishing events can claim similar heritage. Although it’s officially called the Club Match Angler Championship, most still call it the Green ’Un Final after the local Saturday night football newspaper where it began. Sadly, the era when each major city had its own Pink, Blue, or whatever colour sports paper is a fading memory. The Internet put paid to them all so now Sheffield’s daily paper, the Star, provides the necessary oxygen of publicity. Each year, through my regular weekly column, I report on many hundreds of club matches and the winners of each match covered is eligible for a place in the semi-final. This year we had almost 250 qualifiers but, as ever, half of them seem only to want to see their name in my Friday column. Those who turned up at Hayfield Fisheries hoping to progress through to the final by winning a section were as keen as mustard. As usual it was a fiercelycontested match. Conditions were scorching hot and the fish appeared to be as interested in spawning as in feeding. But that was no bad thing from a fishing perspective because no-one could predict with any certainty where the winner would come from. From my point of view that was a nightmare. I needed images of the top three in action for a planned double-page colour spread in the paper and the result was very tight. Only 2lb split the top three and the equivalent of just a couple of good fish separated the top 10. Great for the anglers, a near impossible task for me as the lone cameraman, but I just about managed all the shots I needed. I’ll not dwell on who won because this was only a stepping stone to the 20-peg final where there will be £2,000 worth of Daiwa gift vouchers to be won, plus pools. Nice rewards if you can qualify. I’ll bring you an update on the final in the next issue.

Week four...

The final will take place on KJS Aston Park Fisheries’ Snake Lake in Sheffield, a venue we last used in 2011. Back then the fish were very small and ide were abundant. I needed to fish there and get a feel for how it had matured so as to decide on how best to peg the match. I met up with Geoff Hurt who, along with his wife Pauline, does all the practical organising on the day for me. Even though both failed to reach the final they’ll still be there, keen as mustard and making sure the match runs like clockwork. And here was Geoff doing the pre-match legwork in his own time, again. Folk like the Hurts are gold dust in club match fishing, rare beasts and for their considerable efforts all they seem to get is an earful of moaning. “Why have you put this peg in? Who picked this venue in the first place?” Etc, etc... The lake is, as the name suggests a continuous ‘snake’ with four channels. The owners are kindly allowing us to use the whole lake so we took advice from the owner, the bailiff and several venue regulars. It seemed that if we divided up the lake and gave every competitor three pegs or more then certain areas would be unbeatable and reduce the match to a raffle. So we’ve decided that we’ll only peg the two outside banks, putting anglers in pairs with an empty peg between each pair meaning every angler will have an empty peg to one side or the other. It’s a brave move to leave out the best three pegs on the lake as it’ll lower the winning weight by a margin, but it will at least give everyone a much fairer chance. Geoff and I fished adjacent pegs and tried out various methods and baits. We kicked off catching short and down the track but only steadily, prompting me to go long. Fishing 13 metres to the far margin with expander pellets resulted in a rewarding but pretty exhausting day. It’s hard work shipping 13 metres around when you’re not used to it, especially when you are getting bites almost as soon as your bait hits the deck. But, by heck, it was fun! The fish have grown a bit but thankfully they’re not great big lumps. Unless the winner can draw the fish closer he’s going to have to work pretty hard as speed will count by the looks of things. Judging by my catch there are loads of fish averaging 8oz to 2lb with an occasional fish of twice that size. Fingers crossed we’ve picked the perfect final venue. And finally, this issue will hit the newsagents’ shelves just before the new river season opens. I hope you’ve been doing your homework as opening day falls on a weekend. Places like my beloved Trent will be absolutely rammed. The scenes last year were reminiscent of Glastonbury with tented villages popping up everywhere and this year will probably be worse. Until things quieten down why not give those off-the-beaten-track venues a little thought? This week I found myself looking into a small dyke that’s extremely shallow and not much more than six metres wide. Before me was a shoal of chub spread over 10 yards or so. In all I counted nineteen or 20 fish. I know from past captures these fish are averaging 3lb-4lb apiece and they will be suckers for a lump of free-lined floating crust.