Scriptio continua

You will have to excuse the title as I really could not think of anything more appropriate as it has been a while since my last post, you could call it a slight hiatus, but I do sometimes prefer making lump sum style entries.

During what has been a rather dry Autumn, I found myself wishing to get out for a spot of chub chasing on a new stretch of river and at the same time decided that it would be nice to do a bit of filming of this trip. I was most pleased to slip a perfectly formed chub into the landing net, in fact it was a beautifully brassy fish (5-3), although trying to extend a landing net with your teeth is not something I would ever recommend.



I have been wishing to do some more reconnaissance on a waterway that I have enjoyed fishing in the past, every time I wet a line so new pieces are unlocked and for what is in many places a most diminutive waterway, it is one that I feel has quite a few surprises to be uncovered.

During this trip I was kindly offered a lift by Maureen (all round good egg,superb mother and taxi driver to her son ), we have a mutual agreement whereby I do household chores and in return she kindly gives me fishing lifts.

Positively bursting with features

I had decided to have three hours fishing and at the same time a little scout about, bringing my purist rod and a lighter tip,opting for a spot of link ledgering to get under the many rafts and feature filled swims, a tub of worms, tub of maggot/caster and a few slices of bread was to be all that was needed. The river on this section was very coloured and yet I could not fathom out as to why, there is only a couple of drainage channels and we had not had any rain as such, however it looked as if there had been a spot of rain to say the least, resulting in a slate grey colour.

I was soon engrossed in studying each swim and decided to start in the one you see pictured above, if that doesn't scream fish then I don't know what does, after a steady trickle of caster and maggot I hooked into a spirited chub that had taken to doing what chevin do best, gorging on free offerings! As it rested in the net the casters and maggots tumbled out.

A greedy golden chevin

I was happy to open my account on a new section of river and more so that gut instinct had paid off. Heading downstream I came across a rather interesting swim, replete with a spare tyre for company.

This looked a likely skulking zone for perch so a change to lob worm was made, after a few tentative plucks it became apparent that there was more than a few residing in this location and I soon had some healthy perch awaiting their parole from the confines of the landing net.

The pick of the bunch was to be a beautifully built and marked fish (1-8) my best perch during this short sortie. I plan to return during winter as I fully suspect this little waterway will throw up many wonderful surprises.

Near the end of September Tom Aldous and myself did a fishing trip together on the the Blackwater hoping for a few chub. Arriving at the river we found it to be running low, gin clear and the better chub were to provide us with a stern challenge. A few small perch were taken along with the odd chublet, but it was not until nearer the end of the trip that either of us would connect into a better stamp of fish, Tom taking his from what I like to call the gateway swim (blog title photograph) and indeed he had a few more chances there too, but they were in a skittish mood.

Meanwhile I was fishing downstream and having primed the swim with a few pinches of bread, rolled my flake through and was kindly rewarded with a very lean and mean chub, with a large head to it.

Slim Jim (2-12)

I have to be realistic regarding this trip, I felt neither of us fished particularly well, we were cumbersome in our approach and when bites can be at a premium that is never the greatest of combinations, however in one of the swims I saw a brilliant looking perch with vivid rouge fins which looked all of 3lb,I could not tempt her despite watching her flank a smaller chub that I had hooked.

With those red fins fresh in my mind, plans were made to go back out and have a try for her. This river contains some absolutely gorgeous perch and I had been unlucky to lose a larger fish a few seasons ago to a hook pull on worm, one of those moments you don't forget but can look back on and have a good smile about as it ended in me being left with said fishes incomplete and rather mouldy Bullhead supper in my hands.

Heading back to the river a few days later with lob worms and a healthy helping of dendrobaena from our family wormery, which incidentally is another area I would like to cover in a video as Maureen has gone into special depth and detail with breeding, feeding and keeping these worms in all weather conditions and she knows a lot more on the subject than this son of hers.

I planned to spend a few hours in one swim with the hopeful intention of finding that beautiful  Perca willing. It was a cloudy afternoon with some light drizzle, perfect conditions. I had decided to bait the swim with some chopped dendrobaena and feed this alongside a light amount of maggot. The first bite was from a small chub, this was quickly unhooked and slipped back upstream, followed by a few juvenile perch and a Gudgeon. Now I don't normally use gudgeon as live bait and I have a lot of trouble in doing so as they are such a lovely little fish, but I did end up lip hooking this particular fish and within half an hour I had a perch that I would have estimated at the 1lb mark, thankfully Mr gonk was unscathed and returned to the water alive and well.

I topped up the swim with a light helping of maggot and some more chopped worm, and as I did so noticed a bow wave pass through the swim, the shape of it suggested it was indeed a perch, possibly harassing minnow and had me questioning if releasing the gudgeon was such a wise idea, even if releasing it after having one perch on it did make me feel a bit more morally comfortable.

Around an hour had passed when I had a most affirming bite, as I set the hook there was to be no doubt that I was connected to a better fish, my cheap and cheerful 8 foot Avanti rod had a welcome bend to it as this fish tried to run under the sunken branches, eventually the sight of a broad built, perch broke the water in mid current and I could see from the striking red fins that this just might be the fish I had seen on my last trip. A few nervous moments later and she was finally sat in the net and not one jot happy about any of it with the commotion she was making. I could see she was a nice size and did think she was possibly a 3lb perch, the scales settled at 2-14 and a new personal best for this waterway.

You can't beat a nice river perch caught from home turf (2-14)

During October the family took a break on the Warwickshire Avon, this is fast becoming an annual event for us and something we enjoy, as it gives mum the chance to recharge her batteries and catch up on some reading time, as well as allowing my father and I to do some evening time river fishing together.

En-route to Stratford we made a stop at Shipston, namely to grab a bite to eat at the fish and chip shop which I might add is simply superb price and portion wise, wish our portions were as good locally and as well priced!

The following morning was a sunny affair and Dad and I decided to take a look around the river, we had been informed by a few of the local anglers that the Avon was not fishing so well on the barbel and carp front, some of whom also kindly suggested and offered different stretches to fish, I'd like to say thank you to those chaps whom kindly offered that opportunity, however we decided that we would give this section a good crack much like last year and see what would or would not happen.

I decided to tie this in with doing a spot of lure fishing and had quite a few small perch and a chub which fell to a Yo-zuri Aile Goby,blue shad
 

We stayed in the snugs/beehives that the caravan park provide for rental, these come with a bunk bed and a sofa that converts to a double bed, as well as a small fridge, there is also a toilet/shower block that is used exclusively by these rentals. I just want to say a big thank you to all the Staff, especially Lynn, who is such a wonderful person, she kindly lent my mother some extra books to read and helped us during our stay no end, you're an absolute star and a very thoughtful kind hearted person.

The following evening my father and I had settled down to fish an old swim that had produced both barbel and carp last year, the river is a little deeper here, but no less clear,our plan being to start late evening on each session and fish till around 1am. We decided on one rod each, myself fishing a multi species approach on the quiver tip and 6lb line, my father would be on boilie wrapped in paste.

The first night went nicely for both of us, no barbel to show but plenty of chub up to 3lb for myself on worm over a light ground bait mix and a couple of better chub for my father.

 Golden enamelling

We packed up that evening happy to have got our eye in and with thoughts regarding the clarity and water level as well as the otter activity which was fairly evident from the off.

The following evening I baited both our swims with a light hemp and crumb ground bait mixture followed by a few broken up boilies over my fathers swim. This particular evening was to be a quiet one with little in the way of any fish movement, indeed the same could be said of the flow and I was finding it very easy to hold bottom on link ledger with just a couple of 2ssg shot.

After a couple of light twitches on the quiver what followed was a bite with more commitment, no less subtle though, upon setting the hook the pace soon quickened and was soon aware that I was into a decent fish, as it kept low and held ground I had an inkling that it perhaps could be my first Warwickshire Avon barbel. By now dad had joined me in the swim and as it broke the surface I couldn't help but state in the most obvious of ways "Barbel and looks a decent one!".

However this fish was not in the mood for fun and games and set off on a powerful run along the margins, tearing its way through the weed beds as it went, it was a good test to say the least and when I did finally attempt to net her some nearby tree roots nearly saw to it that she might slip back out, an elated yelp was to be heard as the prize was finally safe. Leaving her to safely recuperate I made my way up the bank to ready the camera only to trip and fall, dad just seeing a pair of legs flipping up into thin air. "What the hell is happening!?" he shouted, "erm I..I seem to have managed to fall over" I replied sheepishly, "how can you manage that on flat ground?" I didn't really have a reply to this as it was all a bit daft, I suppose the best explanation would be that adrenaline can do some funny things or more to the point I'm about as agile as a feline that has paid a visit to a taxidermist.

Happy as a sand boy (11 lb)

I was deeply overjoyed to have had a barbel from this waterway and a double at that on the light tackle, this fish was in perfect condition, no sign of any otter damage to it whatsoever and in perfect health. I remember saying to my father "if I don't get any more during this vacation I certainly won't be unhappy". Finishing up around 1.30 am we made our way back to the snug and I must admit we both slept pretty well with our confidence and hope buoyed by this capture. 


We had made a decision during this vacation to not fish on the first weekend as it seemed busier with boat traffic and people in general and like anything there has to be some give and take, so we planned to have a family barbecue or two, this also gave my dad time to recuperate from the night fishing as he is not the active angler he once was.

bbq or bonfire? Probably too much pallet wood!

A roaring success

After the weekend and mum having some time to enjoy herself on the boat taxi, dad and I decided to give the same swims another crack, personally I would have liked to have tried a bit further upstream but at the same time I did agree on giving it another go as we had baited it on the couple of times that we had fished it. That evening was to be quiet for myself save for a few small chub and a couple of skimmer bream. Dad however managed a better fish, in the shape of a stocky chub (4.7), missing another bite late on, which we both felt could well have been a bream.

A stocky chevin and a happy dad (4-7)

During this particular night we both noticed two different otters, one smaller, perhaps a youngster and an adult, the adult actually surfaced in my swim just prior to packing up, as much as I love my wildlife I can't help but feel that an imbalance is being created with the reintroduction of these animals, last time we were on the Warwickshire Avon my fathers barbel exhibited enough ragged marks on the tail to suggest that something had taken a fancy to it and I somehow doubt it was another randy barbel! Meanwhile on my home waterways I have witnessed the odd carp with its throat ripped out and the E.A wanted to suggest it was the doings of mink, really guys?  Not wishing to be too coarse here but do you take anglers for ignoramuses who don't know the difference between otter and mink or perhaps you take us for a word that rhymes with stunts?

Mini rant over, but how about we at least have some transparency regarding how fish stocks are being damaged by the reintroduction agenda?

Both my father and I felt that by fishing the same spot and ground baiting we might perhaps be helping to lure the fish to their own deaths so to speak, as it seemed quite clear that on the last couple of evenings the otters whilst nearby didn't seem to be directly working the swims as they had done during this particular evening, so with this in mind we decided to move.

A nice tree line

The following evening was pleasantly calm with the cloud breaking at irregular intervals, certainly nice conditions for October time, I picked up a few skimmer bream on the quiver tip along with the odd larger bream (4.6) and plenty of smaller chub.

During this particular evening dad had a good bite which he failed to connect with, I must admit he seemed pretty down about that and I can empathise with him, it can't be easy feeling how he does health wise and he did say "I have lost the ability to fish. Now I know you wouldn't expect me to post such a statement up on my blog, but this blog is at times warts and all, the reason I find myself sharing it is because it sticks in my mind most poignantly. Memories of the times when I was younger and forgetting to bring my jumper with me whilst we were carp fishing, dad kindly lending me his and being able to show me how to fish, someone that I looked up to (still do), hearing him make such a statement filled me with a painfully deep remorse that only passing of time has the ability to evoke.

During the coming evenings I was wondering where the carp might be hiding, we had heard some activity which sounded like carp moving along the opposite margin, but that was to be a blank for my father, with a few chub and quite a few roach to myself fishing half worm over maggot and included a very plump red fin (1-5).

A plump roach, I wouldn't mind a few of this stamp on float from this waterway

I was glad to be fishing quite an open ended method where species were concerned, as I have to be realistic this reach of river was being a fickle mistress.

I do wonder if fishing during evening time was really the best idea, as it makes me wonder if otter activity being higher from evening onward could in fact make fishing more tricky, surely there has to be a possibility that any such activity would spook any larger fish away from the area you're fishing, I mean what fish in their right mind wants a pair of sharp teeth sunk into them? I actually wish during our stay that we had tried a couple of daytime trips just to ascertain if there might be some correlation.

Dad waiting patiently on a cool bright night.

We had an enjoyable trip in general with a nice mixture of species for myself, Robert wanted to stick to a boilie and paste approach, which was understandable, I just feel that at times when conditions are transitional and having those first few colder nights with low and clear conditions that fishing a less selective method can be very helpful, such as maggot feeder, worm, caster etc.

A brassy chevin (4-2)

A short dumpy chevin 4-5

Nearer the last couple days of the vacation, Robert did connect with a very good fish and judging by the way it powered off we both felt it was a carp, sadly this eventually ended in a  hook pull as he had to put some side strain on the fish to stop it from going towards some snags upstream, I really felt gutted as I had been hoping throughout the vacation that a barbel or carp would put in an appearance for him just like last year, sometimes despite the effort you don't always get the rub of the green and this was one of those occasions, he really deserved a bit more luck with this fish, especially for his diligence and being so willing to get out on some of the cooler evenings despite his health, there's always next time dad.

It hadn't been straight forward but dad and I were happy to have had the fish we did, although this stretch of river on some evenings was most fickle and it reminded me of the Loddon for its moods, due to this you could say that over the last two vacations it has struck quite a chord with Robert and myself, hopefully a return visit will be on the cards in 2017.




Over the last couple of months a friend (Mark) and I had arranged and rearranged a trip together, we finally made a date set in stone and that nothing (hopefully) would get in the way of as we had not wet a line together since last season, so this was long overdue and from our numerous phone calls we were both looking forward to hooking up to spend some fishing time together, Mark had mentioned that he would like to come down and spend the day after barbel if possible as they are a species he doesn't target as much and I suggested that would be great and would try to advise and offer suggestions regarding swim selection and such.


The following morning I received a text text "I'll be there within a couple of minutes"  he was punctual to say the least and within two minutes he had pulled up outside the house, after stopping in for a cup of tea and quick chat we were soon on our way to the river.

It was a delightful day, dew lacing the grass, mist gradually lifting to reveal a day filled with promise and sunny intervals, we both chatted a great deal during the trip, stopping off to rest ourselves regularly. Along the way I pointed out quite a few swims, suggesting a light baiting followed by fishing some of these on the way back. Prior to the trip I had made a mental decision to not fish as much as normal and concentrate on some of the swims with Mark, stopping in a few spots along the way and during the evening in hope that one of the better chevin might take a liking to a spot of cheese paste, but no dice on this occasion.

Come early evening and as I was reeling in I could see that Mark had his headlight on and soon my phone was ringing, "I got one mate!" he said, to say I was overjoyed would be an understatement and I was soon in his swim with the kind of elation that you might compare to an overweight and overexcited Labrador, "oh mate well done, well done indeed, I'll go grab the camera!".

One very happy angler! (9-4)

It was a perfect looking fish not a single scale or fin out of place, a few hearty pats on the back were called for, probably too many by myself, but the amount of joy to see that one had shown itself and Mark had winkled one out was a bit too much for my adrenaline levels, I was relieved as when I have any friend come down my neck of the woods I always want them to have a good trip, however Mark did state that he had enjoyed the day anyway but we both agreed this was the icing on the cake, that evening we made our way back to the car chirping away and insisting that we shouldn't have left it for so long and would have to head out together again but in his locality. On the way home he kindly treated me to kebab and chips, thanks for the cracking company throughout the day mucka, it was brilliant to see you so happy with your capture and we must not leave it so long next time.





About six days later and I was pondering where to fish and what species to fish for, I did want to start doing some perch fishing in earnest and perhaps a spot of chevin chasing, that said my barbel itch was starting to tickle me a bit, so I made a decision to head out late afternoon with the words of a certain woman ringing in my ears "if you go today I can only pick you up if you come home early evening". I must admit I didn't get down to the river till 3pm and was then torn in making my mind up where to fish, admittedly having a plethora of features on a river is an enjoyable spanner to have thrown in the works, that said boy can I dither at times, finally making my mind up over a full hour later.

I was soon ensconced in a perfect little spot, with a nice depth and some deep undercuts, preferring to fish this area upstream due to the amount of debris that was flowing by. A whittled down boilie wrapped in some paste, fished alongside a very frugal helping of birdseed was my choice and at around  6:45 I had a lively scrap on my hands from a golden barbel and one that didn't want to take no for an answer, twice making a dash away from the waiting landing net.

A welcome gold bar (7-9)

This fish was a lovely way to end a short fishing trip and I went home very contented.



Recently I have had quite a few people ask me via youtube and email where my intro has gone on most of my recent videos and that they quite enjoyed it as the opening to each episode, I must admit I quite enjoyed what you could call the theme tune for the channel, but at the time of removing my intro I had not thought that it would be missed and suspected that it got in the way of viewers wishing to into the meat of each vlog. Thanks to those of you  whom got in touch, I may reinstate it in due course but with an updated visual.

I guess that brings everything up to date and this will probably go down as one of my largest all in one posts, not sure I'll be planning to allow it to build up in such a way again before posting, as that was a lot to remember!

A look back at the 2015/2016 season

I was going to post a written review of last season, however I thought that I would put together a montage video of some of the fishing trips from it instead, some also with friends.
Many of the clips are from trips where I didn't make a complete vlog.I would like to extend a big thank you to all of you blog regulars whom visit here and take time to read my musings and fishing tales.

Fluffing my lines

Over two weeks without fishing is no good for any angler who enjoys their hobby and I have recently been put on course of cyclizine to combat motion sickness, think feeling you are permanently on board a boat and you would be some of the way there, like all medications it's not without its side effects, one such being drowsiness, although I probably haven't felt this sleepy from an antihistamine since the days of triludan.

Come Sunday and despite the clocks going back I was not fully awake until gone 12pm, it felt like someone had clobbered me over the head, I can understand why such tablets can treat motion sickness because they replace it by knocking the person out instead!

I decided to chance my arm with a spot of link ledgering and when I eventually got down to the river (2pm) I could hear a couple of other anglers walking up the path whilst chatting fervently about football and the sacking of Tim Sherwood, they stopped briefly to ask how I was getting on and told me that they had been fishing since early morning but had managed a couple of chub to just over 4lb on bread and cheese paste.


It was a gloriously sunny afternoon and I planned to fish till 7pm to see if I could perhaps tempt one of the better chub as daylight faded. This particular area of river is quite narrow in places but there is good fish to be found and stealth is very much key. I had hastily packed worms and maggots deciding to use these as my main approach, now I could have taken liquidised bread and cheese paste with me but I wanted to travel as light as possible, preferably without the bait bucket that I usually have in tow.

Some swims are very much hit and hold

The first handful of swims produced the obligatory minnow rattles and taps, followed by a very confident bite which I somehow conspired to miss, little did I know this would be a recurring theme for most of the afternoon. Further downstream I opted to fish a slack created by a fallen birch tree and this looked a prime skulking zone for most species, in fact it looked rather perfect for perch, sure enough a few minutes later and pluck pluck, it seemed like a perch bite and my hand was firmly on the rod, five minutes later the tip swept round, as confident bite as one might expect, in fact more so given the bright conditions, my strike was delayed and dare I say mistimed, I once again connected with thin air, by now I was pretty much miffed to say the least and repeatedly chided myself for having been slow off the mark, thoughts of cremating the new medication and offering it to the fishing gods did also pass through my mind.

Further downstream I found a deep slack, once again not a wide swim but one with a good depth to it and just off the main flow, a light feed of maggot was fed in upstream a good ten minutes before I planned run my bait through. The first trundle produced the one and only bite, once again very confident and I connected with this fish for a few seconds, the resistance felt good, the hook hold however was not and that less than favourable anti climax of a hook pull occurred. I was now wondering if it was going to be one of those trips, you know the kind I mean where you botch up every gilt-edged chance that comes your way.

By evening time and with just over an hour left I was well and truly ruing those missed opportunities  so I headed back upstream to cover a couple of swims that I had yet to try. It turned out to be a case of fortune at the last chance saloon, when the tip thudded round this time I was met with a solid resistance and the surging sprint from what felt a bullish fish, it was bristling with energy as it made for the weed beds and overhangs giving a brilliant account of itself. My reward was a solidly built chub and one which went a long way to banishing those missed bites earlier in the afternoon, after this fish the swim fell quiet, no wonder really given the run around this fish had given me, but boy was I elated, I thought I had expended all my chances

5.06  of small river chevin

My final cast was made in what you might call a pool swim, an area without so much flow to it, this particular spot looked good and had a lot of detritus which had collected, I figured it would be a perfect for any food particles to hold up and also a nice spot for any fish wishing to recuperate from exertions in the main flow.

After a little and often trickle of maggots, I started to receive a few delicate taps, followed by a more confident, slow but steady bite. I knew straight away that this fish was certainly not a chub as it kited out of the pool and headed ponderously downstream, the golden flank of a nicely conditioned bream soon broke the surface.

5.10

One thing I have noticed over the seasons on this particular river is that most of these bream tend to have a gorgeous colouration to them and always put up a good a good scrap in my opinion, especially on balanced tackle.

A look at my watch told me it was time to make for home, it had turned out good in the end but I had really fluffed my lines with those other chances.

Waxing lyrical

Locally we have had some very heavy rain recently and the rivers have been topped up nicely, almost to the point of localised flooding, a stark contrast to how dry it has been previously, so at the weekend after a bit too much dilly-dallying, trying to choose between barbel fishing or some general roving, the latter was chosen and I decided to take with me what is to myself a fairly new bait and one I have used on three occasions this season, each time they have been nothing less than superb, that bait is wax worms.

These are the plump larvae of the wax moth, think super sized, buoyant, cream coloured maggot and that would lightly sum them up. They can be fished popped up or as a sinking bait and are a very natural looking food, something a fish might expect to see dropping from a bush or tree into the water invitingly. Earlier in the season I put them to use for chub and they worked very well trundled between the weed runs, I tend to fish these in two ways, the first is using an opportunistic approach by casting into a swim with no free offerings and trying to pick off an unsuspecting fish that sees a free meal rolling past, the second is to fish these in conjunction with a light feed of maggots.

The amount of liquid content is akin to a juicy orange, so when nipped on the hook they do give a superb leak off, on larger hooks I prefer to thread one on length ways and then nip one or two on the hook as you would with a normal maggot. They keep very well in the fridge just like maggots and from what I have seen seem to have a better heat tolerance than worms do.

You should be able to purchase these from your local pet shop, however I have been ordering mine from UK Waxworms, you get approximately 270 for £6, now I am unsure as to how that stacks up against the price for these in a pet shop, but baring in mind that the £6 also includes the postage and packaging I would suspect that it is not bad, plus these are mainly used as hook bait only, so 270 tend to go a long way.  I have detoured a little from topic but wanted to explain a bit about them.

On reaching the river this weekend I was met with a pacy, tea coloured scenario and part of me was kicking myself for opting to go quiver tip and link ledger, but there were still plenty of slacks to target and submerged marginal features which would allow fish respite from the burgeoning flow.


As I had not got down till 2pm I decided to concentrate on only a handful of swims, chopping and changing between fishing the wax worms as single baits and using them fished over the top of maggots which were trickled into some swims. The first couple of spots produced a few small perch and gudgeon, moving downstream I found a slack just off a glide and begun to receive some rapier-esque bites hitting the tip, now I have not had that many dace from this waterway in the past, many other species but not lots of dace, at least not from some of the reaches that I fish, well imagine my delight when I started picking up a few of these at regular intervals, not huge fish for the species, the largest was  probably 6oz's, but given this particular waterways thriving ecosystem who knows what sizes that they might go to? Certainly food for thought where a bit of trotting might be concerned, which in my opinion is a more enjoyable way to catch these silver arrows.

It was not long before afternoon was gradually turning to early evening and I was sorely wishing I had commenced fishing earlier, by now the river had risen more and I found myself in the final swim of the trip, a slack near to a sunken tree, this area having plenty of breaks in the flow and a very nice undercut bank next to said tree. Twenty minutes into fishing this swim and I received a slow, almost deliberate bite which I somehow failed to connect with, so a change of hook was made to a heavier gauged size 10 and three wax worms were soon rolling along the undercut bank.


A few trundled casts later and the tip twitched delicately before arching round, I soon realised that I was connected to a better fish as it moved into the pacy current, after a very enjoyable scrap I could see a lovely conditioned bream breaking the surface.

Wax worms, like the American Express advert "never leave home without them"

A perfectly proportioned Abramis from a small Thames tributary, an excellent scrap on the quiver (8.7)

Gold intermingled with a deep, burnished bronze colouration and without doubt one of the nicest river bream that I have had the pleasure to catch, this was the perfect way to end the afternoons fishing and it is safe to say that wax worms have cemented themselves as a firm favourite with me as a welcome addition to an anglers bait armoury. I have not used them trotted as of yet, but I would suspect with delicate presentation by float that they would be the downfall of many a good roach and rudd.

Opening season trip compilation

Just a short video compilation of my first two trips at the beginning of the river season

Back in the flow

How I have missed your tranquil embrace, cabbage patches and gravel runs looking so sumptuous, but at last the hiatus has finally abated.

Despite enjoying still water fishing, I do feel more of an affinity for flowing water, the sound of  rivers as they makes their way through the landscape is almost a language of its own, plucking at an anglers heartstrings. The heady aroma as mist rises from the rivers on a June morning, deer picking their way through the fields, foxes and their offspring tumbling about together until they rest in a heap on top of mum and dad.


My first trip out of the new season found me heading to the Blackwater in the afternoon replete with feeder rod and link leger in hand, along with a small amount of bait in my bucket (maggots,lob worms, sweetcorn). I was stuck in two minds, fish a few swims or concentrate on one only, the latter was decided upon,I settled down in a rather snug Borneo-esque swim that was alive with the chatter of Dormice and they did take a liking to one of my rucksack straps leaving me with a souvenir in the shape of a tiny nibble hole.

With a reasonably deep margin in front of me I decided to start by lightly feeding a mixture of maggot and corn slightly upstream. Downstream of my near margin there was some perfect coverage that simply screamed chub and it was here that I intended to let the link leger trundle down to.


The first trundle resulted in the first fish of the new season in the shape of a brassy chub (4.4) which gave a good account of itself.

A little and often approach with the feeding and I was soon picking up chublets, gudgeon and perch at regular intervals and a smile was fully cemented on my face. Into the evening the bigger fish started to show and after a very agressive bite and scrap saw a rather short, but deep bodied chub try to ditch me in the marginal foliage, I slipped the net under the first 5lb+ chub of the season, this fish was rather hollow and looked like it would be a good 6 come winter time.

 

5.3

I can assure you I have not knelt in something nasty in this picture, unfortunately my landing net had decided to break, the metal thread coming away from the plastic spreader block, I was not amused to say the least and spent a good hour trying to repair it, in the end I had something that was sturdy enough yet looked akin to a sawn of shotgun meets the mummy from one of those hammer horror films, I was only too glad to get it repaired once home, but I guess that will teach me for buying a cheap net.

I fished on till late evening, switching to sweetcorn in hope of picking up one of the rivers bigger bream. At around 9pm the quiver tip pulled round steadily and I was into what looked a rather wide slab which gave a great account of itself, slipping it into the mummy of all landing nets I could see she was in very nice condition and my first Blackwater bream.

8.9 of healthy river Abramis

Metal thread into plastic what a great idea... not

This was to be my last fish before heading off home,it had been an excellent way to start the new season off on this fabulous little waterway, however back at home a healthy amount of glue was awaiting said spreader block...

Mishaps mayhem - Double trouble

Writing this and thinking about one of my trips back in September feels a bit surreal now. I was having some enjoyable fishing trips and trying to tempt some of the larger barbel from the Loddon, two of my prior visits had been a combination of blanks with and without crayfish nightmares thrown in for good measure.

But my third trip was a bit too eventful for my liking, having packed up my rods I went to drop some broken up paste into another swim, a little bit of a future investment if you like. Not happy with my position on the bank, I instead decided to hold on to a branch from a nearby tree. The voice in my head was echoing warning words, "branch dead, wouldn't take your weight in a thousand years if it was still alive". I foolishly ignored this and grabbed hold of the branch, as I began leaning a little over the river the inevitable happened, "crack!" and that was it I was clutching thin air and doing a good impression of a cartoon character before falling in yet again. A thick mixture of silt and mud, along with a sinking feeling is not something I would recommend any angler to experience at any time, be that day or night and has to rank as one of my most scariest mishaps, as I did genuinely think I was not going to get back out again, had this happened during floods then I would have been in serious trouble.


Sitting in the car on the way home was an interesting affair, mum mentioning asking at regular intervals "Mark why do you smell like s*%t". I have to admit that I did not divulge anything about falling in until I was back home and still don't think I have lived the incident down, Once back home  with my clothing in the washing machine and a hot cup of tea inside me, I sat thinking over what had been a bit of an unpleasant experience, trying to work out why I had decided to ignore my inner voice and put my safety at risk on the river, there was only one real reason and that was a mixture of over confidence and total idiocy on my part.


Not having any of my usual baits I opted to put together a mix that had done me well in the past as well as some matching paste with which to wrap round the bait, along with this I had made up some luncheon meat broken into irregular shapes and then soaked in some Sharwoods Thai curry sauce.

A few days later and I was making my way to the river, it was a very pleasant late summer day, a light breeze and nice amount of sun. On reaching the river there was no mistaking the fact that it was running very low and looked a bit stale. Two thoughts were in my mind, either target a deeper area, or try to place some baits along the weed and cabbage patch areas of a shallower spot.

I decided on the latter, one rod placed upstream, just shy of cabbage patch beds and with one of the fresh boilies which I had decided to trim down, glug and wrap in paste. My other rod was placed downstream where there is a slight difference in depth and a lomg trench where food particles do tend to collect. It was not long before I started receiving attention on the upstream rod, followed by a slow, meandering run, which turned out to be a very well conditioned bream of 5lb.

I was buoyed by this early fish and rather happy, a quick cast back out and check of the luncheon meat rod showed that crays were indeed about, not wishing to risk being pestered I switched to the same bait as which I had taken the bream on. The rod had perhaps been in the water for forty five minutes and started receiving light plucks and taps, certainly not the usual tug and static hold the crayfish give. An hour past by and during that time there had been a good few plucks but no committal, no full blooded bite was forthcoming. As I sat wondering if perhaps the fish were in a far to apprehensive mood, all hell broke loose, the rod arching round and baitrunner purring.

As it plodded downstream it was fairly evident that I was playing a rather hefty fish and the rod did not disagree as it bent round, a game of give and take began, me giving and the fish repeatedly taking was how it began, a wind of reel handle, followed by steady "tick tick" of the clutch.

When my prize was finally beaten and I slipped the waiting net under her I could have jumped for joy, it was a beauty, long wide and a powerhouse of a barbus, with one very powerful paddle.

At 14lb it was a new best for me from this river, words failed me as I looked upon its bronze flanks, it is moments like these that are really special and a grin that could last quite a few years was etched on my face for the rest of the evening.

As night time crept on, the upstream rod which had been very quiet since the initial bream, did not give any warning as it tore off into mid-river and after quite a nervy battle which saw this fish head under some sunken tree trunks and back out again followed by diving into two different cabbage patch beds, I finally had another barbel in the net, this fish had a slight amount of  dorsal damage, perhaps from being kept in a keepnet at some point?
Unfortunately I only have the video footage of this fish as my battery packed up on me and I had left my spare one in the charger at home. Weighing in at 11lb 2oz's it was another nice fish and the cherry on top of what had been a very special fishing trip.

Once I had packed up I decided to sit a while, taking in this trip and to give a long look at the river, thanking it multiple times. The relationship of angler and river is an interesting affair, one I would call a passionate love and each waterway has different reasons why it attaches itself to you. I have many wonderful memories of my father spending time teaching me to fish on this waterway and if he had not, would I be having the mishaps and fishing adventures today?

Barbel fishing a trip to remember vlog

Unde-turd Vlog

Unde-turd - Of stinging nettle rash and mosquito bites

Come June 16th I was looking forward to my first river trip of the season and planned to fish overnight on the Loddon, unlike some I have never really felt the urge to be on the riverbank  ready to cast out at 12am, rather preferring to venture out on the opening day itself.

It was a pleasant day and as I made my way to my swim of choice I took note of a wheelbarrow in one of the swims downstream, the occupants of a bivvy, rod pod, bed chair and everything bar the kitchen sink, seemingly sound asleep. I guessed they had been there for the start of the season although part of me can't help but think they were there before this too..

Now I have nothing wrong with this style of fishing and many times have done similar on the larger rivers, such as the Thames and Lot in the past, but on the smaller waterways I do wonder why the need for it. Granted I do fish at night, but an umbrella, seat and small rucksack is all I have ever felt the need for.

I took my time setting up whilst watching the kingfisher speed up and downstream and a family of swans and cygnets paddle on by. Ten minutes later the water was abruptly disturbed, by not one but two Cormorants erupting through the surface and taking flight. I was not too happy and decided to let the swim rest for an hour before making my first cast of the season.

The afternoon and evening were a quiet affair, the rivers surface peppered by the movement of smaller fish and a rapier like bite to the pellet rod which seemed to come from a chub was the only activity. By now the occupants of the Alamo downstream had finally gone home, I find it odd to bivvy up and then pack up on opening day, I think you might agree?

I decided to wind in, take a carrier bag with me and take a look at what damage may have been done in the way of litter left behind. On reaching their swim I was grateful to find no rubbish whatsoever, instead a large fire had been left behind, "could be worse" I said to myself.

On taking a look right next to their swim it was a lot worse, shit laden toilet roll and the contents of their bowels had been dropped right in their own swim, all uncovered and strewn in and around the surrounding area, fuming was not quite the word to use, I was bloody livid with anger. With so much better areas to dig a hole and then cover it should you get caught short, why the hell you would take a dump in your own swim beggars belief and to leave it uncovered too, worse than animals.

Thirty minutes later and having collected all the faeces covered toilet roll up using a stick and then covering it all with two kilo of soil I was still fuming. Worse than scum and it now comes to light that they are both local, so perhaps I have more of this to look forward to in various swims? Well we shall see, I will take great pleasure in rubbing both your faces in it should we ever meet again.

I walked back to my swim, the feeling of such a beautiful place being sodomized by people like this, the term "angler" not something I would use to describe such vermin. The night was peaceful, but partly ruined by the thoughts of what had occurred and how often it might in the future, I took consolation in the fact that she can be a moody and mysterious river and how that might put such people off from ever returning.

Both rods were cast back out into likely areas, one on a pellet soaked in anchovy plus, being a pre-drilled pellet I always prefer to plug either end with a piece of wood and then glug them, as this slows down the ingress of water some what which can normally hinder drilled pellets quite badly, the other rod placed out on a Thames baits TB1 boilie chop.

Now this is the first time I have put them to use this season and I'm quite interested on finding out how they will perform, they however look and smell great.

Crayfish spent the night teasing off my bait stops and chipping away at my bait, I figured the fish were still very much into spawning and at first light I had a slow bite on the TB1 boilie, resulting in a lovely looking Bream (7lb 15oz), it was covered in spawning tubercles and partly milting, a very welcome fish and a nicely conditioned river slab at that.

Back home I considered my next trip out and whether I should perhaps venture to a new area of the river, a land of stinging nettle and mosquito, a place where not so many anglers tread, no sign of use and abuse or litter louts and those whom only concern themselves with targets to achieve and little love for much else.


Come the following weekend I had made up my mind where to angle, this was to be a short trip of around 4 hours, to rove or not, I decided to opt for the latter, but surrounded with so many features I began to wonder if it would have been wiser to rove instead.Getting to the swim at 6am, I settled on a shallow area with an overhanging tree and a couple of sprigs of reed mace, this area also near a run of cabbage patch, not too deep at around three to 4 feet in depth. The rain that was forecast was on and off, the sun playing hide and seek between the clouds.

About two hours into the fishing trip, my rod wrapped round, fish making a surging dash upstream, after a very energetic and spirited fight, the first barbel of the season was recuperating in the net. A short fish (7lb 2oz), bearing some distinct red spawning marks on its belly and tail, this fish falling to a Thames baits TB1 boilie.

I was overjoyed, a new stretch and the first barbel, although I was apparently keeping the local mosquito populace happy too!

In the four hours that I fished they managed to rack up 50 bites on various areas of my body, at least not on my gonads this time! Unfortunately I am allergic to deet based repellents and usually go the garlic route, sadly not this time, Instead thinking I would try and get away with it, not the best of ideas and I am surprised that I did not require a blood transfusion by the end, but along with the stinging nettles and mosquito hoards there was a most welcome reward at the end, I went home lumpier than usual and rather itchy, but very happy.

An Angling Flow Vlog

An Angling Flow

After my last few trips and much pondering, wondering where the fish might be hanging about and all those likely looking, sumptuous spots that are full of features which us anglers are drawn to, I decided that on my next trip I would head further upstream. After spending some of the evening time having a good feel about with rod and lead, I found a nice deep, near margin spot, with a lovely overhanging feature, I decided to place a single Hinders Crab and Krill pellet to this spot and heavily glug it in some Anchovy plus, just to give off an attractive slick and to slow down the ingress of water into the pellet.

Decisions decisions

My other thoughts were  very much preoccupied with trying to accurately place a bait to the spot pictured above. There is a dense jungle of pads,cabbage patch and other snags, thick enough  for various waterfowl to stand on, eventually I decided to go short of the main area, the idea being to intercept any Carp cruising up and down the weed line, just a single 30mm pillow shaped, black snail bait, with a small stringer of 4 boilies was placed to the outskirts of this area. I rather fancied this low bait approach.

The consummate angler

Just myself and the frequent call of two very good anglers, the Kingfisher and Heron, the former passing me by before perching itself in the nearby tree on more than one occassion, perfect.

It was a still, humid evening, a trail of red left in the sky and wispy clouds, probably one of the warmest I have fished this season, just t-shirt and optimism needed. The movement on the far bank began after 11pm, the sound of clooping, synonymous with carp, perhaps feeding on freshwater snails and other insects. Part of my mind began to whisper to me with words that I didn't wish to hear.

"Preoccupied on naturals Mark, or perhaps your bait placement is not close enough to them?". I realised that I had turned round and placed my invisible other half as if he was there in front of me and we had conversed some, it has always been my way of processing my thoughts and ideas. I must admit I have had anglers walk up to me in the past, looking slightly bewildered and wondering just who it is I'm speaking with, not the easiest thing to explain either, but there you go.

My near margin rod started receiving, numerous fast bites, I did consider Crayfish, but had been told there was not any in this particular stretch, but on my previous trip I had spotted two in the margins, so knew of their existence, the fast bites continued, before finally falling quiet. it was an hour later when the butt of the rod leapt out of the rear rest, swinger and baitrunner coming alive, I grabbed the rod with some urgency and was immediately met with a dogged resistance, that made five long hard runs, one of which was an attempt to get under my marginal bush, eventually the flank of a fighting fit Barbus appeared through the surface, glistening gold and looking fresh as a daisy.

It was 9lb and with room to fill out, you can probably tell how happy I was and still am as I write this. The first Barbel from any new stretch of water, is something that is always very special to me and this fish was no different. The rest of the night the action was all on the same rod, with five Bream ranging from 5 to 6lb. By 5am The far bank had gone quiet, the Carp silent as if they were ghosts or perhaps figment of my imagination, this rod remained quiet.

By 9am I had my last fish, a small Chub, once again to the same rod as the Barbel. The sun was out along with Bees and other insects, but it was time to pack up and head for home, the enjoyable contrasts of angling, something that I certainly could not live without.