Of slackers and otters.

On Monday we shook the dust of St. Ives from our feet and headed off down stream.

If you have ever wondered what the internal workings of a Great Ouse slacker look like, well here's your answer. Down to one slacker, that's a paddle in canal parlance, on the pointed doors at St. Ives lock. It seems the thrumble-grummit wasn't engaging properly with the gronger and was causing the gismo to oscillate, or something along those lines. I was sorry I asked.
But I was thinking of other things, sixteenth of June, the coarse fishing close season on rivers was at an end. I had a destination in mind. There are some rather pleasant GOBA moorings by Ewell Fen with an adjacent reed bed and nearby water-lilies. I had spotted them on the way up and the timing worked out just right.

It has turned out that I was right, the river here is like fish soup, it is heaving, mostly with rudd. So we are still sitting here while I pander to my hunter-gatherer instincts. Fish are not the only wildlife nearby, we have seen a barn owl here, there are a resident pair of grebes and the whole place is alive with bird song.

But the icing on the cake was yesterday afternoon, as I sat watching my float, I heard what I can only describe as a chittering noise coming from the edge of the reeds. There, no more than my fishing rods length from me, was an otter. We gazed at each other for a moment, it was obviously less impressed than I was because it quietly sank out of sight and I saw it no more. We saw one at Honeystreet on the K.&A. last year and now one yesterday. I don't care what other anglers say about them eating all the fish, I'd rather see an otter than catch a netfull of fish.

It obviously hadn't worried the fish, here's a couple that I caught, the top one went just over the pound.
Moving towards Reach Lode tomorrow.

Watch this space...........