Water Tigers & Roving About Vlog

Water Tigers & Roving About

I must admit I have become some what distracted of late, the sight of this small waterway and its gravel beds, multitude of different types of weed, creating various habitats, numerous nooks and crannies which could hold any species of fish, I was fully transfixed by it. My thoughts started racing, each criteria in my head being ticked, good vibes were being sent from the river back to me.
My grin was a childlike one, I knew where I wanted to wet a line and could not wait to do so.

During the week I chatted  to Rob Thompson asking him a few questions regarding his tactics for Perch and he was most helpful and forthcoming (thank you again). With thoughts of luring a new pb in my direction, I headed off at the weekend, twin tip rod, fixed spool reel and centrepin at the ready. I planned to rove about, but at the same time, making sure not to forget one of the points Rob had said can prove critical and that was even though I would be roving, to make sure that I had a decent spot to give a go into evening time for the Perch. The day before, I raided our compost bins and a plentiful supply of redworms were gathered, enough for hookbait and groundbait alike.



The first sight of a river that you have never fished, bursting with vibrant colour and life in each and every twist and turn that it makes, is something that can gladden the heart of any angler and I felt almost light headed with excitement as I arrived at the first swim, greeted by dense patches of streamer weed

On seeing a few nice openings in the weed, I decided to feed the area with maggots and then trundle link ledgered worms through the area, after a few runs through the area and some timid plucks, the line eventually tightened and rod tip thumped round savagely, a distinctly coloured Perch was on. As I slid the net under it, I thought there was a chance of it being a pb and sure enough it was.

Weighing 1lb6oz not a leviathan, but given that my previous best Perch was a miniscule (12oz), I was over the moon with this lovely creature and in such brilliant condition, blood red fins and distinct tiger stripes, I can see myself being engrossed by these beautiful fish. After a few Chublets in this swim and some smaller Perch in the next, I moved further downstream into a tiny sloped swim with a moorhen and infant walking water, suspended by the dense surface layer of weed.

I decided to switch to maggot and placed my bait to a nice area on the left hand side of the swim, near some overhanging trees and weed rafts, it did not take long for fish to start intercepting the bait and and the hard tugs began in earnest, the powerful bites that only a Gudgeon can give, full blooded thuds, always punching above their weight, I caught 13 from this swim, along with numerous small Chub. I remember many years ago when I use to catch a netful of Gudgeon on the Loddon and Thames, a most willing fish, their numbers have declined a lot in my opinion.

I couldn't help but think of the other fish that might be lurking beneath the watery film, my mind thinking of anglers who would appreciate and truly love these little spots, thoughts of Jeff Hatt perhaps tempting some Roach from it crossed my mind on more than one occasion. I think you can probably tell that I have fallen head over heels into this river and I'm needy of more.

As the day moved past, I Changed to centrepin and quivertip trying many more spots, a bait lowered  here, cast there, held back at the edge of the weed beds and then allowed to move slowly through. Some spots I fed with a light amount of groundbait, containing maggots casters and chopped redworms, others none at all. Late in the day in a spot that I would not be suprised to throw up a good Barbel or two, I was getting regular timid bites, little knocks and twitches to worm and very finicky ones at that, I wasn't to sure what to expect and from what fish.

When the quivertip eventually hammered round, line zipped off the pin and I was fighting to stop a bullish run downstream to some very thick, coarse weed. After a very lively fight, a stocky Chub of 4lb8oz was slid into the waiting net, a superbly conditioned fish from a wonderful little ecosystem. As daylight faded away I opened my flask of tea and tried to reason with myself over a few things, going over them numerous times.

1) Why had I not fished this river before now?
2) I simply must do this again.
3) Where does the time go when fishing?

After mulling over point 1 the most, I slowly made my way for home, only to be distracted at one of the last swims on the way back to the car, I pondered  "mm isoptopes already on, why not?".
A light scattering of maggots and remaining groundbait were lightly placed into the swim and worm cast, leaving my chair folded I perched myself on my landing mat, eventually a few taps began, then all went suddenly quiet, deadly so.

I muttered to myself  "just another ten minutes", as I got to the last few minutes, the rod tip angled round, lurching alarmingly, quiver folding round as I lifted in, a powerful sprinting run took place torpedo like, as the fish made for the far bank repeatedly, it eventually tail walked and I caught a glimpse of it, a Pike, by now the centrepin was getting a solid work out as I tentatively played the fish, hoping that the line would hold out.

Thankfully the fish was well hooked in the side of the scissors. A Nice healthy fish of 8lb1oz. Yet more food for thought come winter time and some Pike fishing, this suprise package really rounded off the days roving and it was really enjoyable and one I intend to repeat again soon.

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.

 

Garden Paths 1 & 2 Vlog

Garden Paths - Part 2

The last few days have been very hot, so with that in mind I decided to head out and fish a late afternoon overnighter, back on that lovely stretch of the Thames, a place that has taken a firm grip of my fishing head.

After the last trip at the weir pool, I was contemplating to giving it another go, but I had yet to try any of the lovely spots that are much further downstream. After another look to reacquaint myself with the various swims, I decided to fish a small bay area, where the depth sloped from being shallow to eventually dropping away to form the near margin ledge, a lovely spot, replete with a lovely dense bush to my right, which covered a lovely area off the main flow.

It looked perfect and I had no doubt as to where one rod would be placed. The far bank margins were also looking very inviting, with numerous areas providing a welcome covering area for the fish.

So that was the plan, one rod out near marginal ledge and the other out to the far bank margin. I don't tend to use pellets as much, but I decided to put the closest rod out on one and heavily glugged it in Anchovy plus oil. The other on a black snail boilie wrapped in a little paste. The afternoon passed by in the company of a friendly heron, whom had taken to making frequent visits at a nearby muddy pool in the field behind me.

What was left of the sun eventually slipped behind the nearby trees, leaving a red sky with wispy cloud dotted about. As I made ready one of the rods, the last of the evenings boats chugged by, a polite wave shared by angler and boat owner alike, mine one of relief, he was at least being thoughtful as he plodded by. It was a lovely night, a heavy dew eventually formed, followed by a misty veil that seemed to roam the fields, its shape morphing and twisting, from one field to the next.

Sounds of owls and the shriek of vixen were heard as they called into the night and the odd rabbit sprinted about behind me, my pellet rod and one I favoured for some interest began to tap slightly, before the indicator lifted slowly to the top, a light strike was met with a steady plodding resistance and a fighting fit bream of 6lb 4oz was slid into the waiting net.

I did ponder if I should take a picture or not, it was in lovely condition, I decided on the former and a quick shot was taken, back it was slipped, rod re-cast and a cup of rather stewed tea was poured from my flask. One more slow bite occurred and I connected very briefly with what felt like another bream, before it slipped the hook.

Morning broke, mist lacing the water, the thames looked wonderful, but unfortunately it was time to pack up and make for home, my head well and truly filled with more food for thought.

Garden Paths - Part 1

 A place for an angler to those themself

Well as you will be aware, I have been spending my spare time trying to figure out a stretch of the Thames that is new to me and one that is certainly giving me plenty of food for thought and head scratching, in fact my hair loss is currently going very well and I don't think I will be needing any just for men dye anytime soon. This stretch is just packed with so many good looking swims, each one making you stop and want to wet a line, each spot whispering the promise of  an unknown leviathan, it's certainly an enjoyable predicament to be confronted by.

I decided to head out, with one thing in mind, fish the weirpool overnight and see what I could attempt to suss out. I arrived at my swim at late evening, the sun pleasently warm, complimented by a rather blustery wind. I opted for the boilie only route, both baits well glugged and placed out with a thick mixture of vitalin and birdseed wrapped around the ledger weights.

one was placed out to the right and an inviting slack, just away from the open weir gates, the other being placed to another slow area on my left side. The evening sun set and the full moon appeared and in doing so created an almost surreal atmosphere, one that added to my feeling of optimism.

But the night was a quiet one, with just one fish and my first from this area, a Bream of 5lb 7oz, a quick photo was taken and it was slipped back.

Very nice to catch and it put up a nice account of itself compared to its stillwater cousins, but it would have been nicer on lighter tackle and not what I am using, which is more beefy and primarily aimed at the Barbel and Carp.

As I'm writing this I have come back from another trip, my head thoroughly scratched again, ideas running through my head and another plan of action being considered, I can certainly think of no better place to search these multitude of garden paths, maybe I will eventually find that secret garden, one  that I'm sure exists somewhere along this stretch, maybe I have already found it, because this place has such timeless beauty.