Gravel Pit Tench.
Posted: Thu Aug 02, 2018 8:27 am
Whilst lurking by the back door early with a cuppa and fag, Fatty resolved to catch another largish tricksy tinca from a local gravel pit.
Supplies gathered, mostly pies and slurping tea in an enormous flask, the fifteen minute journey was undertaken bravely, before Matron
would notice yet another Big X inspired Escape 
Arriving at the pit it seemed all quiet on the Western Front, so much so, Fatty made his way to the peninsula swims with one in the corner looking good BillyRay. So after the usual palaver setting up, missing rings and having to start again......twice, the Mole, for it is he, could relax over a much needed cuppa and three pies
Satiated in the tumbly department and relaxing in the warmth of a new day; perhaps relaxing should be truthfully replaced with the words sleeping soundly and snoring.........
Well in mitigation, this fishing lark is very tiring what with these early starts and the Mole is very, very old
Can you imagine the confusion engendered by the electrical sound of an alarm interrupting such a bucolic scene?
The alarm is very old, like the owner and goes by the name of Heron. Yep the system still works well after all these years.....sorry Mark for mentioning electrical bite alarm devices but at nearly fifty years old surely qualifies as almost traditional by now
Confused, Fatty struck and found himself attached to something that wanted to visit every weed bed in the vicinity but the little chap, hanging on grimly, prevailed after much near accidents in the undergarment arena....it's an age thing!
Well......
......8lb 2oz of Green Majesty.
Yippee
Well that master plan worked then.
Apologies for the footwear again appearing in the photo but camera work is not a strong point with Moles, no sir!
Home by lunchtime the triumphant hero was greeted with indifference by his beloved Untergruppenfuhrer and a list of chores longer than the Magna Carta......oh well at least on the bright side not a thumb screw in sight. Hurrah, Fatty survives for another day!!!
As ever,......
Moley
Supplies gathered, mostly pies and slurping tea in an enormous flask, the fifteen minute journey was undertaken bravely, before Matron
would notice yet another Big X inspired Escape Arriving at the pit it seemed all quiet on the Western Front, so much so, Fatty made his way to the peninsula swims with one in the corner looking good BillyRay. So after the usual palaver setting up, missing rings and having to start again......twice, the Mole, for it is he, could relax over a much needed cuppa and three pies
Satiated in the tumbly department and relaxing in the warmth of a new day; perhaps relaxing should be truthfully replaced with the words sleeping soundly and snoring.........
Well in mitigation, this fishing lark is very tiring what with these early starts and the Mole is very, very old
Can you imagine the confusion engendered by the electrical sound of an alarm interrupting such a bucolic scene?
The alarm is very old, like the owner and goes by the name of Heron. Yep the system still works well after all these years.....sorry Mark for mentioning electrical bite alarm devices but at nearly fifty years old surely qualifies as almost traditional by now
Confused, Fatty struck and found himself attached to something that wanted to visit every weed bed in the vicinity but the little chap, hanging on grimly, prevailed after much near accidents in the undergarment arena....it's an age thing!
Well......
......8lb 2oz of Green Majesty.
Yippee
Well that master plan worked then.
Apologies for the footwear again appearing in the photo but camera work is not a strong point with Moles, no sir!
Home by lunchtime the triumphant hero was greeted with indifference by his beloved Untergruppenfuhrer and a list of chores longer than the Magna Carta......oh well at least on the bright side not a thumb screw in sight. Hurrah, Fatty survives for another day!!!
As ever,......
Moley