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.

Chubby Chaser Vlog

Chubby Chaser, A Very Red Breast & Close Encounters Of The Furred Kind

After a heavy but most welcome deluge of rain over the weekend and the river season rapidly running out, my thoughts turned to chevin and a spot of roving on that most wonderful and intimate of waterways that is the river Loddon, the night prior I had made up some cheese paste, but only having cheddar and no blue cheese for that extra added flavour, I set about hunting high and low, as I remembered having a pot of Richworth active xtracts blue cheese and garlic somewhere in the house.  After much mumbling and cursing of my memory which seems to get worse every year, I eventually found it and on popping the lid off I was greeted by that ever so pungent and sense awakening smell of blue cheese and garlic, this was mixed in liberal amounts till it created a lovely putty like, smooth textured  paste.

An aroma that never fails to clear the sinuses

The plan was to take this along with maggots and breadflake, feeding a few swims with liquidised bread mixed with some krill meal and then fish those swims over the course of the day, roving about with quivertip, link ledger setup and centrepin loaded with  6LB line.

Morning dawned crisp and frosty, a quick check on the river levels showed that it was dropping but would no doubt be carrying some colour, bait belt, bucket and flask were hastily put into the car and I was on my way. The footpath was laced with frost and lightly frozen puddles, a group of rabbits were sat having an early morning meeting, no doubt discussing what capers they might get up to today, Watership Down in the making I thought to myself and chuckled.

Eventually upon reaching the river it looked pacey and coloured, the current boiling back on itself, spinning and creating a myriad of different patterns and shapes in the water, smooth areas, slacks and rafts created by fallen trees with dead weed draped over them, along with deep undercut banks, all creating likely looking areas to hold a chub or two. I settled on putting liquidised bread into a few choice swims upstream and down. Then I rested, watching the water whilst feeling the warmth of the sun as it tried to invade and devour the frosts grip on the cool morning.

I slowly made my way to one of the first spots downstream, an area where the river slows up some what and is packed with numerous sunken features and snags that wait greedily to snatch tackle from an unsuspecting angler, no doubt many a feeder and hook has fallen foul of this area in the past.

There be chub and many a lost rig Here

With this in mind I cast short of one of the nearby rafts, three maggots on a size 14 Drennan super specialist, were the first bait I thought I would try,  it was not long before the tell tale signs of minnows began to show on the quivertip, light vibrations followed by sporadic taps, on winding in, the maggots were looking rather forlorn and regular recasting followed more of the same, they were simply ravenous. A change of bait was in order, so I wrapped a tiny piece of cheese paste around the hook shank and cast again. During the day I was kept company by many different birds and animals none more resplendent than the Robin whom which I shared many a piece of my sandwich with.

But the spot I was fishing remained quiet, I had no doubt there was chub in the area and this was confirmed in a rather amusing way, when right under my feet a large chub rose to the surface and then drifted out of view again, I have to admit I saw a very funny side to this, as I'm not the lightest of chaps and quiet footfall is not easily accomplished, but my level of stealth was obviously approved by this chub and I had clearly reached the level of at least a brown belt in chubby bankside stealth, either that or this fish was simply taking the proverbial. After seeing this I must admit I spent longer in this spot than I should have in trying to tempt this fish in to succumbing to my variety of bait, but it was having none of it, so with tail firmly between legs I decided to move slowly upstream, trying the other spots I had baited.

By late afternoon I had tried a fair amount of swims, all of which were giving me minnow déjà vu and some serious head scratching I must admit, one of these swims had a regular visitor which I would like to say was a welcome one, but I would be lieing, the first sight I saw of it was a long furry tail, which was poking out from the nearby bankside margin.

spot the expensive coat

Tail waving back and forth in the current, this was to be one of many sightings of Mr Mink, whom had little inhabition when it came to either paddling by me in many of the swims I was to fish or simply scurrying along the bank toward me, thoughts of making a coonskin style hat out of him did occur on numerous occasions and I have to admit it was a rather appealing one.

A nice hat in the making

By now the sun was beginning to turn into a bright but watery ball over the back of the river and its beams danced lightly between the skeletal shapes of the denuded trees, I decided to try yet another swim that was further upstream, which had a deep undercut bank and at least what I felt would be futher afield than the other spots were from the prying claws of the dreaded Mink. This was also one of the first spots I had baited on arrival to the river and I fancied fishing it as the light faded, I have found many of the spots on the rivers switch on as the daylight gradually vanishes, with fish usually losing their inhabitions and feeding more confidently. I settled quietly into the swim, breaking off a few pieces of  cheese paste in irregular shapes and sizes, a light flick and the bait was placed out, I allowed it to roll under and along  the bank till stopping it alongside a very tired looking bush, my flask of coffee which was running low was sipped sparingly as I watched the quivertip avidly for any signs of activity, twenty minutes later, a light but steady pluck was followed by a rattle, after a few minutes passed by, the quivertip smacked round jerking into life, I struck and the reply from the other end of the rod was immediate, a solid sprinting run as the fish headed off in the direction of some tree roots under the near bank, it felt a good fish and made several sprints for the safety of the snags. Eventually and after many fraught moments the flank of what looked a very chunky Loddon chub was drawn across the cord of the waiting landing net.

Chunky six pounder

A lovely looking, chunky chub, which weighed six pound on the dot was my reward, it was in absolute rude health and sped off as I released it upstream, I pondered to myself, make my way home or see if there might be the chance of another, the latter got the better of me and I decided to stay longer. The scant remainder of mashed bread and bits of cheese paste were placed slightly upstream of the swim and I recast, sitting back I remembered I  had stored a flapjack in my bait belt somewhere, it's funny I never have memory problems when it comes to food.

It was pushing on for 8pm when I received my next bite, not so much a tap as a spring board style response by the quivertip which saw the isotope lurch downward, as I set the hook the pin gave line readily and the fish charged off into midstream, this I didn't like too much, given the added pace of the river and the areas this fish could take me for a whistle stop guided tour if it so wished, I applied more side pressure, the fish turned on its flank making it that bit more difficult to bring in against the current, after a very solid scrap, I had a fighting fit 5LB 8oz chub in the net, replete with one of my more quizzical self take pictures.

Some of my self takes never fail to amuse me

At around 8pm the wind had picked up more and the clouds had gathered overhead, I poured my last cup of cold coffee and thanked the river for its kindness, saying a few choice kind words, before packing up and making my way home.

Opening Day Magic

A few weeks prior to the beginning of the river season I had tinkered about with my fishing tackle,to the extent of looking like some crazed squirrel,the hiatus was nearly over,I was so excited just like a child at Christmas Eve.

It was evening as I made my way to the river,to the splash and patter of rain which became increasingly steady,the rivers would certainly welcome this,as it had been such a very dry spring,the rain was turning into more of a monsoon,I reached my swim a little damp in body but not soul,the river looked in fine shape and the insect and wildlife was in abundance.
As I slowly set up,the kingfisher gave me a customary flypast replete with shrill whistle,the hairs stood up on the back of my neck and a tingle ran down my spine,it was something else altogether to be back on the rivers again.



Evening past into darkness and barn owls began their hunting calls,my rod twitched and the swinger rose,I was into my first Chub of the season a slim jim of 3Lb 8oz,a nice way to christen the new season.


I sat back and smiled,it was the smile of a contented soul,surrounded by nature,at peace with my surroundings,I sipped tea,relaxed and listened to the ebb and flow of the river and the sounds of nature as a fox barked into the night.

It was gone 3am as the rain gathered pace when I had my next fish,a lovely well conditioned Bream of 6Lb 8oz in full on spawning mode covered in tubercles,a sign that it would still be a while till the Barbel will have spawned and getting their heads down properly as is usually the case.


By first light the river was the colour of a strong cup of tea and the flow had increased significantly,but the baits were still holding in position save for the extra large chunks of flotsam that were now drifting by at regular intervals,I had seen a Carp pop its head up and roll back down in front of me,a dark looking lady with a large flank and belly, "you must be hungry" I whispered to myself.

A single bleep later was met by the spool of the baitrunner melting into life as if possessed by demons,the fish ran for the far bank cover of pads and streamer weed,firmly lodging itself there and not wishing to come out,applying some steady pressure there was the feeling of some slight movement and sure enough the fish moved free and continued a powerful upstream run,more pressure applied and eventually I had a glorious Common Carp of 18lb 5oz,immaculate and scale perfect,sat in the net.


Well I was more than made up with that and that would be putting it mildly,it was also the perfect way to Christen my new Chris Orme handbuilt rod,which felt beautiful,a perfect balance
between forgiving tip to help soften any sudden lunges,yet still with massive reserves of power and strength,without being a stiff poker,excuse me a moment of indulgence,I have really fallen in love with it.

It was late morning when I had my last fish.a very powerful surging run on the same rod,I was connected with another fast paced bullish fish,that was not in the least bit happy to be hooked and showed it by making its way downstream and bullying me,the rod responded and took every surge of the fish in its stride,eventually nestling in the landing net was a moody,lovely looking mirror of 13Lb 1oz and one of the prettiest mirrors I have ever caught.


It was without a doubt a beautiful start to the river season and with another 9 months of river fishing now available to us,I would like to wish everyone a good time and enjoy it on whatever river you're having a dabble on and more importantly,take pictures and leave only footprints.

Attention To All Bloggers

Hello everyone.
Will you please take a look at the following link, http://www.ourrivers.org.uk/
Please complete the letter to Richard Benyon, the minister in charge of Defra and tell him what you think.

It takes less than 5 minutes to complete.If you have a blog, would you also copy and paste this and post it on your blog.

Thank you
Mark

French River Carping Redux Movie

Roving on the Ter

Mid August Came and found Robert and I fishing the river Ter in Spain,which was a bit of an unknown quantity to us,but would prove to be interesting,we would end up having to fish more mobile and a lot lighter than usual.


The water and course it runs,is an interesting one,with a very wild look to it and a plethora of different features from sunken trees,areas where rafts of dead wood have created slacks and islands covered in dense bamboo jungles,the setting was quite simply beautiful,but with a serious lack of any real depth,averaging 1 metre and in some places not even that,Robert and I opted to switch to the Shimano STC rods fishing one rod each and adopting a roving approach.What we did realise was that due to how shallow this particular river was and given the weather conditions,we would have to drop down to some very light tackle to entice these rather wary,torpedo shaped wild Carp,which whilst not the largest,to all intents fought like demons and went off like exocets when hooked.

Power reflon exceed was the order of the day in a 5lb breaking strain,with a very light weighted link ledger setup and size 12 kamasan B982.

Having fed some likely looking runs and snaggy areas with some maize and luncheon meat,we decided to then rotate swims whilst letting the swims that were first baited,have time to switch on to the baits.

I can tell you now this river was quite a jungle,and it was not uncommon to hear wild boar thrashing about nearby,which made for some interesting moments of trepidation






I think you will agree that it looks rather tranquil and wild,this was also proving to have it own rather large problem,being underground nests of wasps,akin to treading an insect minefield,something Robert and I fell foul to many times despite keeping our eyes pinned down looking for these blighters.and resulting in myself and Robert getting stung pretty badly on three occassions.these were the most vicious bunch of sorely wasps I have had the displeasure to meet and something neither of us care to repeat.

Myself and Robert set about fishing some likely looking fish holding areas and as the river has many sunken trees dotted along it that would be one of our main features,running the light link ledger along these areas.


The first days outing Robert and I got out around 8am,the river laced with a light mist and looking every bit inviting,however despite fishing it all day and only managing two very light plucks,it was a solid blank,this despite us knowing there was fish in the vicinity,we both felt this was partly due to the massive amount of natural food that was being deposited into the river. But I also felt that the 5lb hooklink being used was too much and suggested the next time out we stepped down to 3lb breaking strain.


The following day was an absolute belter with teperatures of 40c not the most reliable for a good feeding spell,so our hope rested on the fish switching on a bit later in the day,at 7pm robert's rod with a single grain of maize wrapped round and he was into a very bullish fish that burst into life and carried on downstream,it was at this point that on one hand I was happy the lighter line had worked but on the other,I was pondering if it would be enough given some of the snags about,but sure enough after some steady playing and letting the rod take all the lunges,I slipped the net under a dark and frisky common of 10lb.The lighter line had paid off.




Despite this,the rest of the evening was quiet with nothing showing and me finishing with a resounding blank.


The following morning the weather had changed somewhat,despite still being very humid there had been a dusting of rain,which we both felt would help our chances,we decided to move further downstream and try another likely area with heavy sunken trees nearby,which was a struggle to get to due to the dense forestry.



I Was hoping this would be a productive spot and opted to cast out luncheon meat over a bed of hemp and corn,Robert decided to stick to the tactic that had worked for him on the previous day.within half an hour my rod sprung to life and I was playing a small but lively common of 7lb.



I was happy,my first Ter Carp and hopefully a few more would be on their way.Robert meanwhile had moved further downstream where the river widened and was into a a very solid fish and one that seemed to be a better stamp,every bit of line gained was met with an equal amount stripped back off the spool as the fish headed downstream trying to make a large raft of weed and branches.This fish was adamant about being hooked and simply refused to be told where it was going to go.Finally a lovely looking brass coloured Common of 11lb was sat in the net.



There was no doubt that Robert was getting into some better fish,so I decided to switch on to the animal maize dipped in betalin.a few hours later and my rod swung round and the Exage reel purred into life,I was into another frisky Ter Common of 9lb which went off like a turbo charged rocket.



Well things were going steadily and we were building up a mental picture of the river and the patrol routes that the fish took,it was not long before I was into another torpedo shaped Common of 9lb,which tried to dart for every bit of cover it could find,making for excellent sport on light tackle.





This was our final day on the Ter so we decided to fish on till late evening and see if we could capture a few more of these Carp,I had suggested to Robert to try a few Tutti barrel shaped pellets and he had been introducing them into his swim at regular intervals before switching to them as his hookbait,Robert and I were chatting about what head of larger Carp inhabited this stretch of river when Robert's rod lurched down and the reel screamed off,he lifted in and was met by a very agressive,bullying resistance that powered off and carried on running,"this feels a reasonable fish" said Robert,the rod did not disagree as it hooped over as the fish took yet another surging run.The landing net was eventually slid under what looked like a nice mid double Common and sure enough it weighed 14lb.




Evening time was coming and I was hoping for one more take,so I decided on a move slightly further downstream where the margins were very heavily overgrown but with a slightly deeper looking pool which looked like it might hold a fish or two.

Lowering the rod down quietly and putting the bait in place no more than a rod length out,I played out some slack line and brought the tip back in so as not to spook any passing fish. Opting to fish a tiny mesh bag of maize alongside the hookbait,so as not to disturb the swim with loose fed free offerings.


The humid,cloudy evening eneveloped us and the sky was interspersed with tinges of red and dark grey,two hours later and my isotope lit rod tip that had been still and motionless had the faintest of plucks.The slack line perked up and drifted out,I slowly lifted the rod up and waited for the right moment to set the hook,as the final bit of slack line straightened out,I set the hook and then all hell broke out with a very stream lined common powering off into the main river and then trying to bolt for the cover of some snags in the margins.

The fish was an immaculate and beautifully defined wild looking common of 9lb8oz.


This was the last fish for myself and Robert,as we packed up we chatted about the river and what other sizes of Carp it might throw up,we both came to the agreement that more time would be needed to ascertain that,either way it had been a very enjoyable and interesting spot of roving on light tackle.