John Bailey – The Kingfisher Diaries
January 11th 2010
01/01/10
What a date eh? And what strange beauty everywhere at Kingfishers. A kingdom of snow and of ice. Willow and Lobster were both frozen. Lily nearly so. In the Kingfisher Lake itself, all the back bay was hard ice and most of the main body also with just strips of open water kept free, probably by wind and by birdlife. Neil and I realised that fishing was pretty much out of the question but we were still interested to see what the snows could reveal.
A depressing amount of mink tracks. Evidence of an otter along the river bends. But, amazingly, it was one of the feeder streams that was to spring the surprise. It was me that saw it first, a great fish on the reeds, its flank catching the setting sun. A roach. An enormous dead roach. Fortunately, we both were wearing chestwaders and we could wade the stream to the recumbent fish. We netted it safely, the creature was still quite fresh and, back at the car, it weighed an extraordinary one pound fifteen ounces. Were it not for the fact that birds, or mammals, had taken away half the face, it would certainly have tipped the two.
The questions abound. What killed it? Or are we looking at old age? Or the freezing conditions? And how did the roach find itself in such a small backwater? Had it actually existed, hidden their all its long life? Or had it been a Kingfisher Lake fish caught by a predator and removed, dying, to the stream?
What is certain is that this looked a true River Wensum roach. Deep in body and massively thick across the back. A true, vivid, red roach eye. Perfect fin colour and placement. A tragedy for the fish and, in truth, for me! How I would have loved to see my float bury to such a pearl of nature.