August 11 &
12 - RMC Dynamite Yeatley Complex - Split Lake
Page 1
Steve and Ant had gone
fishing last week while I stayed home waiting for a delivery. They did
Thorpe Lea and Ant landed a 17 pound Carp, his personal best, 10 pounds over his
previous. I was sorry that I wasn't there to capture a picture for
him. Oh well, it's still a great memory he will have.
Camping out over night is always
fun so we thought we'd treat Ant to the experience. Split Lake
is a quiet venue, set amid trees, a nice camping spot.
There is also a
large Catfish in the lake and Steve wanted a go at it.
We arrived about midday and went
looking for a good peg to set up in. Preferably one with room for our four
man tent and a break in the trees for ease of casting out.
Eventually we found such a peg, set up camp and Steve baited up the swims and
went to work on setting up his rigs.
Lines all set, we sat back for a nice
relaxing day of fishing and I looked for things to photograph. Across the
lake was the single parent female swan we'd encountered here earlier in the
year. Last time we saw them there were seven cygnets, today there were
six.
The day drifted on and we chilled
out to the songs of the birds and the droning of the insects. Our
reveries were broken when one of the bite alarms started
screaming. Don't worry, it wasn't that monster Catfish or even
a large Carp.... it was a.... Coot. The silly thing had dived and
come up with a hook in it's mouth. It thrashed up a storm as we tried
to reel it in. This attracted the attention of Mama Swan, who was now on
our side of the lake. She determined that the Coot was a threat to
her brood and proceeded to attack the poor thing... she was a
veritable demon... hissing and striking at the Coot, beating at it with her
wings. In an attempt to get away the Coot dove into some willow branches
trailing in the water. The line snagged and, as we tugged, the
unfortunated bird came half up out of the water, but no further. It
was not close enough to shore to grab or even scoop up in a long handled fishing
net. There was only one thing to do. Steve rolled up his pant legs,
removed his sneakers and socks... put the sneakers back on and, while I
held the Coot steady in the branches, he waded out with the net and scooped
it up. As he pulled it towards him the hook released from the bird
and Steve was able to grab the Coot, check it and release it. It
dived and disappeared and we saw no more of any of the Coots til the next
morning. Sadly, I was not able to document this comedy of errors. I
can multi-task but not to the extent of holding a snagged bird out of the water
while taking photos.
Things quieted down and Steve showed
Ant how to make up PVA bags of ground bait.
