13/12/2024 - A mixed bag from the Dove

After constantly checking the weather and the river levels for what felt like weeks it finally looked as if I would have an opportunity to get out after some grayling. The "hump" caused by Storm Darragh was finally out of the way, the main rivers were fining down nicely and it even looked as if the wind was going to behave as well, albeit until the weekend! 

Friday therefore saw me heading south on the M1 and then west on the A50 into Staffordshire. Decided to head to a stretch of the River Dove near Uttoxeter in the hope that it was far enough up the catchment for the level to be somewhere near normal for winter. Got togged up in the empty carpark and made my way across the wet fields, my footprints being the first since the floods had subsided. The river had a nice green tinge to it and, whilst it was still a bit higher than I would have liked, looked perfectly fishable. As I settled into my first swim the first salvos of shotgun fire from the aptly named  "Big Shoot" shooting range echoed across the valley. It always amazes me how the local wildlife have obviously become accustomed to this daily onslaught on the senses.

The flock of geese and the pair of black swans in the field opposite seemed completely oblivious to it all. I had also seen a heron, a little egret and a pair of dippers happily going about their business and as I ran the float downstream for the first time I spotted a kingfisher flying straight towards me. As soon as he noticed me he veered off across to the other bank and as my eye followed him I saw a BIG barbel "head and tail" in mid-river, his erect dorsal fin making him look like a mini shark! However, that's not what I was there for, so I stuck it in the memory bank and carried on with the task in hand, catching my first grayling of the winter season. Surprisingly after half an hour I was yet to have a bite, so I upped sticks and carried on downstream to the next run.

Before I left I flicked a few bits of cheespaste down the near margin as it looked "chubby" and I had hedged my bets and had brought along my quiver tip rod in just in case there was an opportunity. Carried on in the next spot, but struggled for another half an hour before the float finally disappeared resulting in a tiny grayling that did well to get the double maggot into its little gob! Carried on with renewed enthusiasm for a bit longer but to be honest I was struggling to see the float any distance down the swim due to the combined effects of the gloom and the ripple, so was soon on the move again. Next spot was equally dire and it continued in this vein all the way down to the bottom of the section.

With hindsight there was possibly just a little too much water on and it was a bit "boily" to fish the float comfortably, so I slogged it all the way back upstream to the spot I'd primed with my cheespaste. Swung a big lump of paste out onto the crease and had a sit down with a cup of coffee while I decided what to do. A couple of minutes later there was a tap on the rod tip, followed by a confident pull round. The culprit was a fat Dove chub a sliver under 4lb that gave me a good scrap in the current. Popped him back and had a recast, but I was getty itchy feet so quickly packed up and headed back to the car. I'd persuaded myself to go to another section upstream of where the River Churnet joined the Dove in the hope that conditions up there would be better. 

Got there about 2 o'clock knowing I only had a couple of hours to rescue the day, so quickly had another coffee and a bite to eat and then headed to my favourite spot. However, on the way upstream I met another angler with a fly rod who turned out to be the bailiff, so spent 10 precious minutes chatting before we parted ways. Dropped into the river, sent the float down the run preceded by a few maggots and was into a fish before he was out of earshot! Soon had my first decent grayling of the winter in the net. Bumped the next one, had another and then annoyingly bumped the next three fish as well. No issue with the hook, so changed from double to single maggot and didn't have a problem after that. 

After a few more grayling the trout inevitably put in an appearance and I'd had half a dozen out of season brownies when I struck into something a bit bigger that took me all over the river. The bailiff had mentioned that there might be a few salmon in the river at the moment, but when I eventually caught sight of it I could see it was another brown trout. Eventually got him in the net and was amazed by the nature of his markings and how he was almost orange across the back - I'd never seen anything like it. The bailiff came back at this point and was equally flummoxed. I thought I'd caught some kind of hybrid, but a call to my friend Tim from the Wild Trout Trust later revealed that it was just a stockie, the irregular patterned markings and lack of any red spots being the giveaway. 

Carried on until I could no longer see the float down the run, by which time I'd had 13 grayling to just over a pound and 7 trout. Was kicking myself a bit that I'd not come here first having struggled for four hours further downstream However, it's always easier to know these things with hindsight!   

11/12/2024 - Back to the brook

It's becoming a tradition that my first proper grayling trip of the year is on my birthday. Unfortunately, Storm Darragh well and truly put paid to any plans I might have had this year.

However, with a spell of dry weather forecast and with the wind dropping off as well it didn't look as if it would be too long before I'd be able to pursue my favourite species. In the meantime, fed up with Teams meetings and office politics, I found myself yearning for a spot of fresh air, so wrapped up things early and shot over to the brook for a short session into dark. All the gear was still in the car from last time, so there was nothing to get ready. Got togged up and took the less scenic route and slogged along the road rather than slipping and sliding across the fields, so I was bankside in ten minutes, not twenty. Walked downstream from the footbridge priming a few spots with a couple of pea-sized bits of vintage cheese paste. 

I'd decided to travel a bit lighter and leave my chair in the car, but my knees started to make me regret that decision almost immediately after I snuck into the first swim! Happily I didn't have to wait long for the first bite. In fact I was focussing on putting the rod on the rest when I felt rather than saw a sharp tap and instinctively struck. Felt a fish for a split second before it was off, the hook coming back stripped of its cheesy goodness. Quickly re-baited and cast into the same spot hoping that I'd not spooked everything. A couple of minutes later the rod tip tapped again, the strike was succesful and a little chub came splashing to the net. Didn't think I'd get a third chance, so moved onto the next swim. Again, the response was almost immediate, quickly resulting in a second chub. 

Was convinced that he'd have a mate down there with him, so left him in the landing net before making another cast into the same spot. A couple of minutes later his slightly large brother duly obliged and briefly joined him in the net before they both went back to their watery home. Moved on to the next spot and yet again the bait had hardly settled before the tip tapped once and bent round resulting in another chublet. Whilst the biggest fish had barely scraped the pound mark I was really enjoying myself - it was textbook chub fishing in miniature. However, that was curtailed in the next swim! After fumbling a strike when the rod butt got stuck in the long grass I tried a bit too hard with the re-cast and flicked the line over the branch of a hawthorn bush. 

Tried to extricate the rig but just made it worse and had to snap the line, pull the branch in with the landing net and then untangle everything by hand. By now it was pretty gloomy and having forgotten the head torch again I decided not to struggle tying a new rig. Headed back to the car instead, foregoing the last two swims, although I had to retrace my steps after walking about 100 metres without the top section of my rod! Hopefully the weather will behave now and there'll be a few grayling to report next time.

28/11/2024 - Small brook smash and grab

Had another quick go on the Embankment after work for the perch, but decided to try a different spot upstream near the tram bridge. Conditions looked good. The river had dropped slightly and it was mild and overcast. 

Unfortunately, I kept finding snags and after losing several hooks and a feeder and with about half an hour of daylight left I went for broke and headed back to the spot where I caught the 2 lber last trip. However, there was no repeat and I sloped back home without attracting a single bite. Cue bedlam on the weather front. Had to wait until this week for another opportunity to go out anywhere, although things hadn't quite yet settled down after Storm Bert. With the main rivers still too high I therefore had a look at some of the smaller waters on my club books. As it happened I was up in Ripley for a meeting on the Thursday and there was a brook near Derby that fitted the bill and was on the way home to boot. 

I'd fished it only once before in the past, but had managed to catch a couple of chub, so I retrieved a ball of 3 year old cheese paste from the the  freezer and stuck my new light quiver tip rod, bought a couple of seasons ago for this very purpose but as yet untested, and a few bits in the car. Got away from work as soon as I could, but it was after 3 o'clock when I stuck my head over the roadbridge halfway down the section to find the brook carrying a bit of colour but running at a nice level. Went and parked up and then spent 20 minutes slipping and sliding across muddy fields to the bankside. Primed a spot near the footbridge with a few small pieces of paste before carrying on downstream. 

Found the spot where I'd had a couple of fish previously and again threw in a couple of free offerings. Tackle was very simple, a fixed paternoster with a couple of swan shot nipped on the lead link, a 6lb fluorocarbon hooklink to a size 8 widegape with a small Korum paste cage attached with a knotless knot. Moulded a lump of paste around the cage, added a blob of Sonubaits cheesy garlic lava for added attraction and swung it underhand to settle on the crease between the fast and slow water. Reckoned I only had about an hour's fishing before it was too dark to see anything, so was pleased when after just a few minutes there were a couple of taps on the quiver tip followed by a confident pull round. 

Struck into a fish that splashed about on the surface making me think I'd hooked a trout until a small chub rolled into the net. Popped him back, re-baited and swung the lump of paste back on the same spot as I was convinced there would be more than the one fish in there. However, a precious fifteen minutes passed without another bite, so I moved slighty downstream to cover a bit more water.  Put a bait in a new spot close to the base of a tree and only had to wait a couple of minutes after it settled before the tip pulled round resulting in another, slightly larger, chub. Had a recast but another ten minutes passed without a bite and with the light rapidly fading I headed to the swim that I primed upstream. 

Couldn't see much in the gloom so just plopped a bait into the middle of the pool and hoped for the best. The temperature was also dropping rapidly under the clear sky. However, the bite came almost instantly and another small chub came protesting to the net. Got my mainline wrapped around the back of the spool of the reel in the process and by the time I'd sorted this out using the light on my mobile phone it was pitch black, so I packed up and made my was back across the fields and to the car. Had only been fishing for about an hour and, whilst the fish were small, it had been good to get a few bites and christen a new rod. Certainly somewhere to go back again when the main rivers are out of sorts and when I've got more time.

06/11/2024 - A tale of two bites

Spent a few days over in Lithuania at the end of October, visiting our lad in Vilnius. The city is spilt by two rivers, the Vilnia and the much larger Neris, which are home to a wide variety of fish species, including salmon, trout, grayling, asp and nase, so couldn't help peering over the many bridges on our various walks. 

Only a short distance out of the city the surrounding forests are full of secluded lakes and we saw quite a few lure anglers fishing for the resident pike, perch and zander. Perhaps I'll be allowed to sneak a travel rod in next trip! Back home this mild and overcast weather hasn't been good for replensihment of the old vitamin D but has felt distinctly "perchy", so after a rare visit to the office in Nottingham I stopped off at Matchman Supplies in West Bridgford for a pint of red maggots and a tub of dendrabaenas. 

A few minutes later I was parked up on the Trent embankment and walking over the suspension bridge to a spot that I'd last fished a couple of years ago. I knew that I only had about an hour and a half of daylight, but with my Drennan medium feeder rod already set up I was soon settled in at the bottom of the steps. Put the biggest dendra I could find on my size 10 widegape, filled my 30g black cap feeder 50/50 with chopped worm and red maggot and then flicked it downstream towards the bridge support. Felt the feeder hit the gravel with a nice "donk" and started watching the tip like a hawk as based on previous visits I was expecting bites to start pretty much straight away. 

However, half an hour later and despite keeping the feed going in all this time I was biteless, the only distraction the endless procession of university rowers and canoeists. Stuck it out for a bit longer with still no interest, so decided to gamble and move downstream of the bridge. Here the bridge support had created a little slack about the size of a snooker table. Therefore swung the feeder out a bit further hoping it settled somewhere near the far crease between the main current and the slack. After a couple of re-casts the glass quiver tip suddenly jagged round violently and I struck into a decent fish. There was quite a bit of head banging going on, so I thought I'd eventually achieved my target. 

However, that idea was put to rest when a bronze dinner plate appeared on the surface and a Trent snotty rolled into the net. Quickly sorted him out and put a fresh worm out as the light was fading rapidly now, although the diffuse light from the bridge and embankment were just enough for me to make out my quiver tip in the gloom. A couple of minutes later I had another, more tentative bite that I decided to hit. Felt another fish on the end and from the fight was fully expecting this to be another bream. However, when it came up to the surface I saw it was indeed a decent perch that I couldn't get my landing net under quick enough. Got him unhooked and gave him a quick weigh and at 2lb 2oz he was my first 2lb+ perch for a very long time, so was well pleased with that. By now it was getting on for 5 o'clock and pitch black, so packed up and headed back over the bridge to the car. 

Spent the next hour negotiating the rush hour traffic back home! However, if this mild weather continues I'll definitely be thinking about a return.

18/10/2024 - Trotanostering, mugged on the Soar again!

Had about half a pint of maggots to use up courtesy of one of my wife's experiments with her Year 13 class. It had started out as a full pint, so she was a bit surprised when I told her that about half of them had mysteriously disappeared. No doubt there'll be a few bluebottles buzzing around school soon! 

Whilst the Trent and the Derwent were on their way back down after all the rain they were still too high to contemplate fishing. In contrast the Soar had remained pretty steady over the last few days, so I headed down the motorway to Kegworth for a couple of hours after work. As I came off on the slip road I was treated to the sight of a buzzard dropping onto the roadside verge like a stone from his perch at the top of one of the lamp posts before making off with an unfortunate rodent grasped in his talons. Parked the car, walked upstream and crossed the lock, chock full of fallen Autumn leaves. Got to my usual spot to find the river gin clear but still quite a bit higher than normal. The main flow was therefore ripping along the far bank but down the inside it was thankfully much slower.

First trot down resulted in a bait-sized bleak that went straight out on the crease at the tail end of the swim on the paternoster rod. Had added several small roach, chub and dace when the float buried and I found myself attached to something more substantial. Couldn't see it properly because of the floating leaves and foam, but it felt like a decent perch due to the head banging. As it came into range I reached around for the landing net only for the rod to suddenly bend double and the centrepin spin out from under my thumb. Whatever it was had obviously been intercepted by something much bigger that was intent on claiming my prize. As it shot downstream I tried to put the brakes on. However, it was more than my 2lb 8oz hooklink could stand and everything fell slack.

Wound in and had just got a new hooklink out of my bag when the alarm sounded on the paternoster rod and I looked round to see it bouncing in the rests. Rather than a perch, the culprit turned out to be a small jack that tore around the swim before I bundled him into the net. Sorted him out, retackled the float rod and took a minute to take a breath. After a bit of a lull I was back to catching a silver a cast and soon had the paternoster rod out again with another bleak on. As the light began to fade I added a single gudgeon to the species tally. Had given myself until 6 o'clock and when my time ran out I had one more cast. The float had only travelled a couple of metres when it buried and I found myself connected to a heavy lump that just sat hugging the bottom out in the flow. 

Got it moving up towards the surface a couple of times but on each occasion it just went back down again leaving a vortex in its wake. Was starting to think that I'd hooked a rare Soar barbel but on the next try I managed to get the fish up to the surface and saw it was a decent pike. Could only think that I'd hooked a silver fish that had immediately been grabbed. Got it moving across the surface using as much pressure as I dared and it looked as if I might be able to get him in the net before he realised what was happening. However, as soon as the net went near him he woke up and made a bee line for the willow on the far bank. I knew that if he reached the fast water I'd lose him anyway, so gave him some more welly only for the inevitable to happen. 

My float pinged back past my ear into the bush behind me and I watched him him sink back down to the bottom again. Packed up and mde my way back to the car just as it started spotting with rain. That's three sessions now where I've been mugged by pike. Think I'll therefore have to give up on the idea of a perch and come back properly equipped - I fancy a wobbed deadbait, something I've not done for years!

07/10/2024 - Portishead pitstop

Another enjoyable weekend in North Devon shot by and no sooner than we had arrived it was time to head back up the M5 to the Midlands again. 

My friend Ken needed dropping off in Taunton for 1100 hrs so after a quick tidy up we were away a bit earlier than usual. This meant it was still before mid-day when I got to Junction 19 near Bristol. As the weather didn't look too bad I therefore decided to come off the motorway and hang a left to Portishead and ten minutes later I was pulling up in the car park at the marina. I'd left one of my rods made up on the off chance, so grabbed a few prawns and a bit of squid and walked round to the basin, stopping at Costa to grab a coffee on the way. 

Close to the lock gates it was looking a bit brown and murky, but as I walked further along the clarity improved and the water took on a greeny hue. Stopped where I'd had a few gobies in May, baited up with a bit of prawn on the bottom hook and a strip of squid on the top, and then dropped the rig down the side. Could feel the dropshot lead sticking in the silt but by walking slowly backwards and hopping it along the base of the metal pilings I found a couple of harder patches. Had a few rattles on the rod tip straight away but couldn't connect with anything, so carried on a bit further towards the slipway. After a few more nibbles the tip finally bent over properly and a rock goby came reluctantly to the surface. 

Had two more of these, followed by a black goby before the little spot appeared to dry up. As time was ticking (I'd given myself and hour and a half maximum and wanted to get onto the little pier at the top of the marina) I got moving once more, stopping briefly to chat to a chap who was float fishing for mullet. There was nobody up at the top end of the marina, so had the pier to myself. Baited up again and dropped the rig down the side of the wall. Here the holes in the brickwork looked as if they would provide a bit more cover for things like gobies and blennies, but the lead didn't even hit the deck as the squid on the top hook was taken on the drop. Unfortunately, whatever it was soon came off. 

However, next drop in the same spot resulted in a pin whiting. Had a few more rattles and knocks before connecting with the smallest bass I'd ever seen, sporting his juvenile black spots. A silver bar in miniature. Quickly had three more of the greedy little buggers, all on the squid strip. Had seen a large shoal of small fish in the shallows on my last visit and had guessed them to be small bass. The marina probably acts as a nursery area, providing a relatively safe haven for them away from most predators and the strong tides of the Severn estuary. At this point another angler turned up. He was on his way back home to Malmesbury from Cardiff and had also decided on a quick stop. 

Edgar, as it turned out, had fished the marina on a regular basis in the past and had caught a range of species including gilthead bream (another one on my wish list). He'd also fished a lot of the same venues as me in Pembrokeshire, such as St Brides Bay, so we were able to swap advice and share experiences. Had one more little bass before reluctantly heading back to the car as I'd now gone well over my self-alloted time, leaving Edgar with the remains of my prawns and squid. The car park at the marina is "pay as you leave" and when I went to pay for my ticket I found that I'd tipped over into the next price band by just one minute. Not that I was complaining as I'd got a bit more local knowledge in the bank that would hopefully stand me in good stead, including where to park for free next time!

06/10/2024 - Ilfracombe part II (a plethora of pouting and a pleasant surprise!)

Got back from Ilfracombe just in time for a quick shower and a bite to eat before we all set off for a walk over the hill to The Rock at Georgham. 

Was sat in the sun drinking a perfect pint of Butty Bach when I got an email from Joel Squires saying that unfortunately he wasn't going to be able to meet up for a bass session this weekend, but giving me some pointers in case I wanted to go by myself. In the end the strong southerly knocked the idea on the head anyway. Rather than try and fish into the teeth of the wind on the estuary I decided to return to Ilfracombe the following morning instead. Unlike the previous day it was grey, wet, windy and thoroughly miserable when I arrived around 0730 hrs but the immediate benefit was that there was nobody else on the pier, so I was able to pick my spot on the end of the upper deck where I'd had a variety of species in the past. 

The weather forecast also proved right for once as the wind soon dropped, the sky started to clear and the drizzle stopped. Unfortunately this was only to be short-lived as heavy rain was meant to be due in a few hours, so I made best use of the time available. Again, I baited up the mini two hook flapper with a bit of prawn on the bottom and squid strip on the top and dropped it down the side of the wall between two of the wooden pilings. Unbelievably there was a thump on the tip and the rod hooped over almost as soon as the lead hit the bottom. However, I never really stood a chance as a sizeable fish, most probably a wrasse, crashed dived into the kelp easily snapping my 5lb hooklink. Tackled up again and sent the bait to the bottom once more. 

This time the bite was equally aggressive but the outcome was a modest pouting on the squid strip instead. Added several more from the same spot as a steady stream of commercial boats and charter vessels left the harbour as the sky brightened. Remembered to go and get a parking ticket when the charges kicked in at 0800 hrs and when I came back I found a dad and his two lads had moved in next to me. Like everybody else I'd seen before them, they proceeded to launch their float rigs to the horizon, presumably after mackerel or garfish.

I on the other hand carried on catching even more pouting, together with some poor cod and pollock, from under my feet. Got smashed to bits once again, so after retackling I moved slightly to my right. First couple of drops in the new spot resulted in a rock goby and a male corkwing wrasse before it was back to pouting and pollock. The dad came over at this stage and we had a chat about LRF and species hunting in general before he went back to his lads. Next cast resulted in a tompot, making it six species for the morning, so already looking better than yesterday but unbeknownst to me the best was still to come. After even more pouting I had a subtle little rattle and lifting the rod I felt a small fish on the end. Expecting to see a micro-pouting or pollock I was stunned when I saw what emerged from the depths - a Connemara clingfish! 

Had seen lots of examples on Youtube and other people's blogs, so knew what it was straight away. Such a weird little fish with it's elongated snout, wide flat head and scaleless body but with such a stunning eye. Took a few photos as best as I could (he was a slimy little sucker) before letting him return to the depths. Much like when I caught my first topknot at the same venue in May, I was on cloud nine for the rest of the session and I didn't really mind when I resumed catching pouting and pollock again. Wasn't long before my two hours was up anyway. 

Got back to the car with minutes to spare just as the parking attendant was checking my ticket. Had been a much better session in terms of the total number of fish and number of species caught, including 26 pouting, 20 pollock, 6 poor cod, 1 rock goby, 1 tompot and 1 corkwing, but it was that funky little clingfish that put the icing on the cake. Thanks again Ilfracombe, see you next year!