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.

The only Wey to go vlog

Headfirst - The only Wey to go

A couple of weeks ago and on a rather hot morning I placed a light amount of roving tackle in the car, the plan was to meet up with Tom Aldous, whom like myself also enjoys creating videos of his fishing trips. He had kindly invited me down to fish a stretch of the river Wey in Surrey, a delightful little river and perfect for a spot of fishing and teamwork, we both planned to rove about, casting to any likely  features and areas that might hold a fish or two, very little bait needed, opting to use a mixture of lobworms, maggots, bread and cheese.


We started the day on a more overgrown section of the river alongside a wall, here chub and dace could be seen drifting in and out of the weed beds and were very easily spooked.

Tom had brought some thigh waders with him and decided to wade further downstream of me, first cast resulting in a perfectly formed dace and it was not long before he had the first chub of the day, a lovely looking fish (3.2), taken on a piece of mature cheddar.

The first fish in gin clear conditions and we were off the mark, as is the case with such small waterways the fish in Tom's area had spooked and spread out more, meanwhile further upstream I had spotted a few fish feeding close to the far bank, a light underarm lob and the link ledgered worm was presented to the edge of a weed bed and marginal snag.

Tom had made his way into my swim as I had the first few taps before the tip bolted round, a livley fight then ensued, the chub making a powerful dash for the weed beds and made it there, after a little bit of pressure was applied and Tom kindly hopping in to land the fish, we had our second on the bank, a hollow, real brassy looking fish (3.1). We was both over the moon, as the conditions were proving a good test of our watercraft and presentation.

We then ventured downstream beating a path through a more urban area of the river and being a weekend, paddlers, people picnicking and even inflatable kayaks were spotted, we decided to journey on through this part of the river before stopping downstream to try our luck along a very basic area of the river, with just a few small bushes for coverage but likely looking spots, first cast resulting in me watching a rather nice chub of possibly 4lb, drift across only to disappear, two minutes later I had a savage bite, only to connect with thin air, hook returning sans lob worm, I turned to Tom and mumbled "that was a decent fish I missed!"

Tom managed another very plump dace from this spot, we never stopped for long, our motion a perpetual  and one that only a roving angler can enjoy, free of weight and like a rolling stone rarely gathering any moss.

By late afternoon and having tried quite a few spots we ended up under a bridge,  there were numerous signs of other anglers having been here, sweetcorn tins left behind and numerous other bits of rubbish which included beer bottles, aside from this it looked a nice spot, a deep depression, the water slowing up here and not far downstream there was a riffle. Apart from a shopping trolley looking rather forlorn, this looked a very nice area for a cast or two.

My first cast resulted in a near instantaneous bite, quiver tip walloping round and I was connected to another fine example of a Wey chub (3lb), not long after having landed this fish and whilst it was recuperating, Tom was into a lively fight from a very nicel marked brownie, which had greedily gorged itself on his maggots. A quick unhooking and Tom was soon cast back in the same spot, whilst I baited from upstream with maggots over his area. Not more than a few minutes later and whilst we was debating whether to take lunch under the bridge or not, his rod tip plucked round steadily, this fight was different, the fish powering off and hugging the bottom, "definitely not a trout" said Tom.

As the fish surfaced in front of us, the olive green skin, paint brush tail and beautiful eyes were a dead giveaway as a very pretty tinca slid into the waiting net (1.6). We was both overjoyed, grabbing a quick chevin meets tinca shot before slipping them both back to this diminutive river.

After leaving this spot we headed downstream, making our way through more parkland, I was transfixed by the many inviting gravel runs, so much so I had no idea what was happening as I put my foot on to a false bank, tipping forward I plunged upside down into the river, rucksack the lot, the stark contrast from hot to cold a complete body shock, I could just about hear a muffled sound of Tom shouting  "oh Mark!!" as he managed to net my hat for me.

Getting out onto dry land opposite two chaps who were sunbathing and another angler upstream, we all started laughing, thankfully the only fatality was my mobile phone, the camera saved by its bag. In all the years of fishing I have never fallen in, but there is a first time for everything and thankfully apart from the phone it was mainly bruised pride.

It was a very enjoyable trip spent with Tom, who remained enthusiastic and very eager throughout the day and one we must do again at some point and next time without me falling in like a porpoise!

Muddy Water - Mixed Bags & Leaf Strewn Currents

I had been hoping to fish a certain area of the Blackwater, but given the heavy rain, this option had to be left out of the equation which was a shame. But on such things other areas are found and plans are made to fish, heading further downstream than I have fished before, I found a lovely long bend in the river, the pace slower here, with lovely marginal tree coverage upstream and some nice gravel areas downstream, I planned to fish from lunch time to late evening, this time with no particular species in mind, just thoughts of catching a mixed bag of fish on maggots and worms.

The river was tea brown in colour and clarity conspicuous by its absence, the smell of fallen leaves surrounded me, autumn colours dotted along the bank. It was not the most straight forward of days fishing, lots of debris sailing by, catching the line at regular intervals, a light mixture of maggots and groundbait was placed downstream along my near margin, an area that I thought would give some protection from the course the debris was taking and to some degree it did.

Bites were very slow to begin with and at one point I was actually wishing I was trotting a float along the river instead of ledgering. The first of many hard rattling taps signaled that the Chublets had moved in and I began to catch one after another of these chaps at regular intervals, until their activity seemed to wane, only to be replaced by faster bites, which sent the quivertip round swiftly, until it sprung back like a diving board, strike miss, strike miss, strike miss, this went on for a while, to the extent I was beginning to question my sanity, whilst also thinking minnows had moved in, after what seemed like twenty more connections with thin air, I finally had the culprit a Dace, this brought back enjoyable memories of some of the large Dace that myself and a friend used to catch in the Loddon many years ago.

After more missed bites I managed to add seven more Dace and then I got a bit ahead of myself, thinking that I was perhaps in for a glut of them, my estimate was very wrong and their activity ceased abruptly, as did most of the fish activity, there was a good chance that a Pike might have been tempted to the area with the groundbait, I decided to rest the swim and open my flask of tea. Now I don't know about all of you and I like a cup of tea most days, but the warmth and taste just seems that much better on a cool autumn day.

As I drained the last drop of tea from my cup, I could hear the calls from Red Kites in the field behind me, I decided to take a look and I have to say what I saw was wonderful, two of them sat on a dead tree, I popped back to my swim and tried to get my camera ready as fast as I could whilst hoping they didn't leave, luckily they didn't and I managed to get the following shots

I have to say it really made my day and it was with a cheerful smile that I cast back out, this time with lobworm and in hope of perhaps picking up a few Perch, after a few light knocks followed by a long pause, the quiver thudded round and a nicely formed, small Perch of 12ozs was landed, this was to be the only Perch of the day, I have to admit given some of the features in this stretch I was expecting a few more, but seemingly it twas not to be.

This has got me thinking and I do feel that with the likes of the Thames and Kennet local to me, as well as the Loddon, that I should really be considering targeting those rivers for the chance of a specimen Perch this winter and it is something that I will most certainly be doing.

I spent the final part of the evening in the company of those hard biting fish, the ones that always punch well above their weight, giving Barbel style bites and numerous of them, I am of course talking about Gudgeon. I can clearly say that I have not caught this many since I was on the Loddon as a child, it was refreshing to see so many of them, replete with their irradiant, mother of pearl esque scales.

By 9pm it was getting chilly and I decided it was time to pack up, I had caught around 4lb of fish,  predominantly made up of Chublets and Gudgeon along with Dace and the single Perch.

As I made my way home, my imagination was filled with thoughts of kites gliding effortlessly in the infinite sky of my mind, nature affords us anglers some wonderful sights, how truly lucky we are to see and be able to share them with others.

Earthing The Current Vlog

Earthing The Current

It had been far too long since I had been able to last wet a line and having no time to be able to visit running water had dulled my senses heavily, the urge was however undying, but the availability of time was not so kind, leaving me feeling incomplete, hollow and almost empty.

When the time came to be able to finally put line to water, I was left with no doubt as to where I was headed, the Foudry Brook, the idea being to rove about and try a few likely looking swims on this tiny and fragile waterway. I was not sure what to expect as it had not been so long ago that this water  was hit by pollution, when raw sewage was released into its vein, killing a large amount of fish and other invertebrate.

Quivertip, link leger and pin, along with maggots and a small tub of liquidised bread were made up and I was ready to admire beauty in minature. On making my way down the bridle path I was greeted by the sight of no less than eight Deer in the field all of which proceeded to leap and bound to the safety of the adjoining fields, it is sights like this that really grab you as an angler and remind you of how lucky you really are.

I approached the old, but stout wooden bridge which crosses the water and as doing so almost held my breath before looking, the brook was diminutive and beautiful, I was glad to see it was crystal clear, the water caressing the speckled gravel bed, it looked and smelt clean, I was hopeful.

 Making my way upstream, I looked about for areas where the brook widened or any places where debris might have created a deeper and more likely looking area for fish to hold out, I placed some liquidised bread into a couple of likely looking areas upstream, one of which had a fallen tree and looked rather tempting, nearby I noted a stone bridge, one side of it there was a lonesome looking tyre dumped in the water underneath it, the other side was wider with some nice features that the fish might seek to snuggle under.

I dropped in a very light amount of bread, in the most tiny of balls so as to not spook any of the Chub that I was hoping to connect with and then sat down and waited a long while before casting, the day held a brisk north wind but was much milder than we have had of recent weeks, a group of Blue Tits  jostled about noisily with one and other in one of the bare bushes on the opposite bank, I smiled
no doubt it felt great to be fishing again.

I placed my first cast near to the bridge and placed the rod back down, a few minutes in and with camera in hand, the quiver tip trembled, a light rattle followed by the tentative pluck of a discerning customer at the other end, the quiver tip fell quiet before it eventually bobbed round more solidly, I struck and immediately saw the grey flank of a Chub flex its body in the shallow water, the fish felt good and zipped some line off the pin as it tried to make its way to the snags under the bridge, after a short bullish fight it was resting in the net, my first Chub from the Foudry Brook and a 3 pounder, I was most happy.

 I thought to myself that I had two choices after this fish, return it to the same spot and move on further upstream, or release it further downstream and see if I could perhaps pick up another fish. After much pondering I decided on the latter and released the Chub further downstream so as not to spook any other fish, a few more tiny balls of bread were placed out and I recast to more or less the same spot, after a few minutes the tip began trembling ever so slightly, so much so I thought a shoal of voracious Minnows may have moved into the swim, these trembles and light plucks carried on in a very stop start fashion. Eventually and after much trembling, the rod tip smacked round and as I lifted the rod, momentarily everything went solid, before the fish came free from an unknown snag and then tried to pull the same sly maneuover as the last fish, by bolting for the cover of the nearby bridge, it was not long before another Chub of similar size to the last was recuperating in the net, 1oz heavier than its brethren.

With this fish slipped back, I decided to chance my arm for another in the same swim, but this fish had caused quite a commotion and no more bites were forthcoming, so I decided to move on upstream, tempted by the look of a pool where a fallen tree had created a slower flow and a likely looking feature for a fish or two.

By now the sun had come out to play and it was a very pleasant afternoon, I spent the last of my remaining time in this swim, which I found the fish were most shy in and did not take a liking to anything more than a single maggot and even then they were most fickle, however it did reward me with a couple of small Dace.
It was a very enjoyable day, spending the time roving and trying likely looking areas on such an intimate and marvelous little water and yet there still remains  a multitude of pools and undercut gravel banks each with their own story waiting to be told, the future seems a bright one and this diminutive waterway is finally on its way to making a good recovery.