06/06/2025 - Briefly back down Bill's

Had a meeting with a new financial advisor down near Studley in Shakespeare country, so took the opportunity to use my Birmingham Anglers Association ticket that I've been hanging onto. 

Meeting went on longer than expected so, after popping in to get a much-needed doorstopper sandwich and a coffee at Bruno's Bakery (highly recommended) on the way, it was well after 3 o'clock when I pulled into the parking spot next to the river. Had brought a couple of rods with me - a 7 ft rod for trout spoons, spinners and small plugs and a 6 ft ultralite for jigs and small plastics. Got them both rigged up, pulled on the waders and made my way downstream to a couple of spots that I had fished on a previous visit back in 2021! Despite the recent rain the river was pretty low and clear and in the slower sections I could easily see the bottom, which looked pretty featureless and covered in fine silt, plus there were no signs of fish. 

Therefore concentrated on the faster water at the head of the pools where it was more oxygenated and hopefully where the bottom had been kept cleaner by the flow - I figured that if I was a trout that's where I would be. Started off with a tiny "Magbite"  2" soft plastic on a 0.5 g jighead on the ultralite rod, flicking it across to the far bank, letting it swing in the current and then hopping it back along the bottom after it had settled in the slack water. After a few casts, flicking it a bit further downstream each time, I had a thump on the rod tip and after a brief tussle bundled my first wild, Warwickshire spotty of the session into the net. Had a much better one a few casts later that really put a bend into the rod and briefly courted danger in the tree roots before I got it safely on the bank.

 

Wandered down to the next spot, briefly trying a small Mepps in a deeper section, but just picking up weed and brown goo if I let it drop too close to the bottom. At the head of the next pool I lost a good fish when the hook pulled and was just going to recast when half a dozen juvenile mallard appeared round the corner. As soon as they saw me they went bonkers - back pedalling furiously and thrashing the water with their wings. Thought that was the swim well and truly knacked, so left it to come back to and carried on. 

Picked up the odd brownie here and there, all on the soft plastic fished  in faster spots. Had also been getting a lot of nips and tugs that I assumed were small trout until I foul-hooked a fat minnow! Therefore changed the spinner for a suitably coloured trout spoon on the other rod, but the deeper water seemed to be devoid of fish. Still, it was great fun using the ultralite, which still had enough backbone to get the fish in quickly whilst enjoying the scrap. In fact the best spotty of the afternoon still had enough energy to unhook itself in the net and then do a backflip back into the river before I'd had a chance to properly admire it! Gave it until 6 o'clock as I was conscious that I had to get back up the motorway to Nottingham, plus I had a sick wife in bed that I'd promised a fish and chip supper to. 

Hopefully I'll be in need of some more financial advice and be back again soon.

28/05/2025 - Two venues and an unpleasant surprise

Decided that two days of standing up to my nads in freezing water whilst getting battered by the wind was probably enough, although there was the obvious benefit that I'd discovered a new, high water mark in the estuary, not only for the bass but also potentially for the mullet judging by the hundreds of lip scrapes in the exposed mud. 

Instead I decided to head over to Hakin point near Milford with the remnants of my salted rag and a bit of squid. Pulled up about 7 AM to find another angler already on the pier. Recognised him as a local chap called Graham that I'd previously met bass fishing, so went and had a chat. He was after the bass again and was using a very interesting rig with a home-made hook release system consisting of a rotten bottom clip, an elastic band and a Weeto - yes, the ring-shaped, chocolate breakfast cereal! Whilst there was a bit of colour and quite a lot of weed fragments in the water due to the wave action on the shore I decided to give it a go on the leeward side of the pier. Set up my usual two-hook, mini-flapper baited with a sliver of squid on the top hook and a piece of salted rag on the bottom. 

Dropped it down the side and felt for a clear patch with the lead. Started getting knocks straight away and it wasn't long before the rod tip properly bent over resulting in a female corkwing wrasse. Had a colourful male a couple of minutes later, after which it was just a procession of more corkies with a the odd, morose-looking shanny thrown in. Looked up at one stage to see Graham with his beachcaster well bent over, so paused to see what he'd got. 

Unfortunately, rather than the monster bass hewas after, it turned out to be a huge ball of seaweed with a small doggie in the middle of it! He took that as his cue to pack up, so took the opportunity to glean a bit more local information from him before he toddled off on his bike. I wasn't long after him as the ebbing tide had started pulling down the side of the pier and my braid was starting to look like a washing line, abeit covered in bits of weed. It was only 9 AM at this stage so after popping into Costa for a flat white and a bacon roll, I headed back towards Haverfordwest to "my" little, urban trout stream, having brought a few red worms scavenged from the in-laws' garden on the off chance. Swapped my two hook flapper for a 0.5 gram jig head, popped on the waders and scrambled down the bank to the first pool. 

Hidden down in the water and under the trees with just a dipper for company it was a world away from the busy road just a few yards away and I do wonder how many people even realise that it is here. Despite all the rain we'd had the day before the stream was low and clear and various bits of urban rubbish and detritus, including tyres, rebar, road signs and plastic could clearly be seen on the bottom. Flicked the worm-baited jig upstream and let it drift back towards me. Did this a couple of times before getting a positive rattle and after a spirited fight landed my first little wild Welsh brownie of the morning. Knacked the swim on the next cast by snagging up in aforementioned rubbish, so slogged downstream through the brambles and Himalyan balsam. 

Started working my way back upstream but was shocked when I came to the first riffle to find it covered in slimy, cotton wool-like growths of sewage fungus. Not actually a fungus, but colonies of naturally-occurring filamentous bacteria that thrive in the presence of organic material, smothering the substrate, displacing invertebrates and, in extreme cases, stripping oxygen from the water and killing fish. Carried on upstream to find several places where black, foul-smelling liquid was running down the far bank. Took a few pictures with the intention of reporting it when I got back home. Thankfully the brook was clear further upstream and I'd managed to land half a dozen more little brownies by the time I got back to the car, although I'd probably been mugged by as many again - the hook either coming back bare or the worm chopped up by tiny teeth. 

Got stuck in roadworks leaving Haverfordwest, but was on the phone to Natural Resources Wales as soon as I got throught the door. Was assured that my report would be passed to the local environment team for investigation. Hopefully the two prime candidates of a dairy and a sewage treatment works will be getting a visit soon! 

27/05/2025 - Two estuaries, mixed fortunes

Took the opportunity to hook up with Joel Squires while I was down in Saunton. Cirumstances had prevented us from meeting last year and I was keen to build on the success of previous sessions. Exchanged emails beforehand and whilst Joel had only been out a few times himself this season, he had managed to find a few fish in his last couple of outings so things looked promising. 

After an 8 km paddle up the Taw estuary from Crow Point to Braunton and back with the lads in the morning I returned a couple of hours later to meet Joel in the car park.Got togged up and had a good natter as we walked over the dunes and down onto the estuary. Started off by fishing topwaters over the reef on the last of the ebb without a hint of a fish, so slogged back up the to the mussel beds as the tide turned. Was unusual to walk past a few bait fishermen on the way, which had Joel bemoaning recent social media posts about gilthead bream, smooth hounds and even tope showing up in the estuary, although everyone that we stopped and spoke to was also fishless. 

Out on the mussel beds we carried punching our lures out into the fresh breeze, but as the light began to fade the wind dropped and conditions seemed perfect. However, try as we might the fish were either not there, or just not interested. Nail in the coffin came when I had the mother of all wind knots in my braid after having carefully looked after it, checking it after each cast, all afternoon. Headed back to the cars a tad disappointed, but it had been good to catch up and we pencilled in some plans for later in the year. Fast forward to May Bank Holiday down in Pembrokeshire. 

Saturday was taken up with the mother-in-law's 80th birthday, including assisting the wife put on a surprise tea party up at the village hall with friends and family and then a massive curry in the evening. With plenty of brownie points in the bank I snuck off at 5.30 AM the following morning to the Cleddau estuary. With stiff westerley winds forecast all weekend I had my eye on an area just around the corner from Lawrenny that I thought would hold a few fish at high water and where I would hopefully find a bit of calm. However, I'd forgotten that it was the "Big Retreat Festival" and when I pulled up in the car I found a dozen middle-aged ladies enjoying an early morning wild swim, although it sounded more like an excuse for a chinwag. Got togged up in the chesties, said good morning and then headed a decent distance further up the bank. Was initally flat calm and looked perfect for topwaters. 

Started off subtle with a small Fishus Espetit, working it over the top of the eel grass and bladder wrack. As the breeze picked up and ruffled the water I changed over to a Patchinko 125 and carried on working the area in front of me. After a while the ladies left, but were immediately replaced by a paddle boarding class. Thankfully they steered clear of me and as they disappeared around the bend in the river I changed lures again to a larger Espetit in hot belly glass. First cast a fish slashed at the lure just beyond the edge of the weeds then came back for a second go, resulting in my first bass of the year. Carried on with renewed enthusiasm, but as the tide rapidly ebbed exposing the bare mud beyond the weed beds I figured that the any fish would now have disappeared for pastures new so headed home for breakfast. 

Despite the appalling weather forecast I was back again this morning, hoping that there would be an early window of calm before the storm. However, when I arrived it was already raining and blowing a hoolie, although this did mean that there were no wild swimmers to contend with. Decided to go with soft plastics this time because of the chop on the water and popped on a slender scoop shad on a 5g cheb rig. Spent an hour and a half covering some new ground in the wind and rain without any interest before making my way slowly towards the car. As I came around a slight corner I could see the area that I'd fished yesterday was a bit calmer and that the ebbing tide had started to expose the top the of bladder wrack. Decided that it looked "fishy" and was worth staying a bit longer, so started working the lure in clear channels between the weed in the hope that a bass might still be mooching about. 

Third cast the shad was taken with a thump and a fish took off against the drag of my Penn Spinfisher. Managed to get itself stuck in a clump of bladder wrack, but after I gave it some slack line it was out and off again. When I got it up onto the surface I could see it was a decent fish, so was glad when I eventually drew it safely into the margins - a nice fat bass of 55 cm that made everything worthwhile. Took a couple of snaps on the phone and watched him swim off strongly before carrying on. However, I was pretty wet through by now and starting to shiver with the cold, so decided to end on a high. Left me with a bit if a quandry of what to do on our final day in Wales - had planned to go LRF or trout fishing, but who knows now?!

17/09/2025 - Need to get my mojo working!

Suffice to say that I have had little or no enthusiasm to go fishing recently. Work has been particularly shite and has been sapping my energy, whilst life in general seems to be stuck in fast forward and I just seem to be hurtling from one day to the next. However, the first of two annual trips with friends down to North Devon offered some respite and a chance to break the cycle. 

The drive down on Friday was thankfully smooth and interrupted - an increasingly rare event on our over-crowded motorway network - and we were all safely installed in the bungalow by mid-afternoon. Rest of the day was spent catching up and celebrating my friend Craig's birthday with a home-made, three course, Italian meal washed down with plenty of beer and red wine. Was still feeling the effects when I snuck off early the following morning at first light and headed the short distance up to Ilfracombe for a couple of hours with the LRF gear. Pulled into the carpark overlooking the pier as the sun was coming up over the far headland and lighting up Verity. Could see that there was an angler already on the lower deck, so got my stuff out the boot and wandered down for a chat. 

Turned out he was targeting wrasse, fishing a whole, cooked prawn on a Texas rig straight down the side. Dropped in a bit further along and was amazed by the clarity of the water, probably the clearest I'd ever seen it. Got tackled up, baited up my mini two-hook flapper with bits of salted ragworm and dropped it down to the bottom. Had to wait a bit before I started to get some interest, however, my first positive bite resulted in a small, long-spined sea scorpion. Had a much larger one a few minutes later, but it was soon obvious that it was going to be slow going, unlike in October when it had been a fish a cast. There was decent swell pushing into the bay and as the tide came in it wasn't long before the waves started breaching the lower deck, pushing both of us up onto the steps and up onto the top level. 

My fellow angler left at this stage to try the rock ledges on the other side of the car park, whilst I dropped my rig down into my "pouting hole". Got a rattle on the rod tip straight away, but it wasn't a pouting but a poor cod that had snaffled the bait. Had another one soon after, followed by a tiny tompot blenny. Moved into the next "bay" between the pilings and had a pollack almost immediately. However, after no further interest I was soon back in the pouting hole. 

However, again it was a different species - a female corkwing wrasse - that took the ragworm on the bottom hook. My companion from earlier returned at this point and showed me a picture of a nice, orange ballan wrasse of about 3lb that he'd caught before being pushed off the rocks by the incoming tide. Had another corkwing whilst we continued to chat and look at some more photos of his previous captures but, despite the sun, the wind had really started to cut through me (it had only been 4 degrees Centigrade when I'd left the bugalow earlier!) so when my new friend headed off I decided to do the same. Have found that this time of year can be very hit and miss, having blanked completely on occasion.

Was therefore pleased to have had a few fish, not least so I had something to report upon my return to the bungalow. Hopefully on the bass next.

21/04/2025 - Treading water

Been in the doldrums ever since the river season finished. However, the Easter holidays gave me a chance to snap out of it, firstly with a trip to Exmouth for my godson's 18th birthday celebrations. Included in a packed agenda drawn up by his mum was a trip down to the marina with the LRF gear. 

Unfortunately, I had returned from Lanzarote in January having broken both tips of my much loved and abused Rock Rover - a combination of clumsiness and the unforgiving landscape! Contacted Tronix to find that they no longer carried spares, so I set about repairing them instead. The tubular tip was straightforward - a clean break that just required a spigot cut from the tip of an old float rod glueing between the two pieces and a bit of sanding and varnishing to finish. The solid tip had to be cut down to the tubular section so I could insert a Drennan quiver tip that I'd laboriously sanded down to fit. Fixed the eyes back on with shrink tube rather than trying to whip them on, then painted and varnished the whole thing. 

Was pleased with the end result - looked quite professional compared to my usual cack-handed efforts. However, the quiver tip I'd used was quite a bit softer than the original, so I was keen to see if this had made much difference to the action of the rod. After brunch we headed down to the esplanade and walked along the beach to the marina. The water that was flying out of the estuary was gin clear, but by the time we'd got to the slipway the flow had eased up and the water had taken on a distinctly muddy tinge. Set up a dropshot rig with a Decoy SG-3 baited with a small section of Gulp! isome. Started off by dropping this into any gaps between the rocks of the breakwater and into the pockets behind the pilings. 

Had a female corkwing, followed by a long-spined sea scorpion and a few shannies, some of which were full to bursting with spawn, before going to join the others on the slipway itself. They were amusing themselves by sight-fishing for shannies with lumps of prawn but after a bit I suggested we move and fish off the corner of the carpark, a spot that is usually full of tompots, wrasse and pollack. However, whether it was due to the clarity of the water or the level of the tide, we couldn't buy a bite between us. Tried one more spot, by which time the wind had started to pick up, but again failed to pick anything else up so headed back home. From Exmouth we headed across to Pembrokeshire to the in-laws for a few days. 

I had planned to do a bit of everything while I was there and had even dug out my fly-fishing gear. However, the weather had other ideas and it blew a gale and pissed down from Monday through to Wednesday, causing muddy water to pour off the fields and roads into the local rivers with the inevitable consequences and knocking any ideas of trout fishing on the head. Thursday in complete contrast was dry and sunny, although it was distinctly chilly when I headed off bright and early to Milford Haven for high tide. Got there to find that the water in the marina was the colour of coffee grounds and I could see that the lock gates were open onto the estuary, so feared the worst. However, just around the corner the clarity was thankfully much better. 

Had been and got some rag from County Sports in Haverfordwest the day before and it was small sections of this that I used on my mini-two hook flapper rig off the end of the pier. Didn't take long to start getting fast, pecking bites and I was soon busy wading through hordes of little corkwing wrasse, with a few miniature ballans and shannies thown in. The haven was equally busy with vessels, including the fire-fighting tug testing its jets, and at one stage the inshore lifeboat arrived to assist a small boat that was having engine difficulties. As the tide turned it started pulling a plume of dirty water out of the marina and past the end of the pier, so I decided to pack up and head home to make the best of the rest of the day, having had a total of thirty fish.

The forecast had indicated another, albeit brief, weather window the following morning. However, woke up to the rain hitting the bedroom window, so that was the end of that. Oh well, we're back in May. I'll see if I can be bothered to do something else in the interim!

14/03/2025 - A mixed bag to finish

Last week was spent aimlessly messing about, although to be fair the weather was all over the place - cold, gusty wind, bright sunshine, squally showers, sleet and even hail. 

Had a couple of hours on Tuesday soaking some cheespaste on the River Soar for a couple of hours. However, missed my one, proper bite while I was taking arty photographs of the sunset through the trees on the far bank! Then had another short session on the Trent near Beeston on Wednesday to check that the grayling were still there and worth targetting. Managed to catch one small one that at least answered the first question but not the second, which still left me with the quandry of whether to renew my club book or not next year. 

Therefore thought I'd play it safe for the last day of the river season so I booked onto a club section of the River Dove up in the wilds of Staffordshire. The club only allows two anglers on at a time, but I've yet to share it with anybody else and wasn't expecting to this time either, even at the end of the season. Grayling were the target, although the quiver tip also went in the rod sling just in case an opportunity for a chub arose. Had a leisurely breakfast before chasing my own shadow westwards on the A50 towards Uttoxeter in bright sunshine. Caught a glimpse of the river as I dropped into the valley and, as I thought, the banks were empty. Parked up the van, made myself a quick cup of coffee and then headed across the field to the river. 

From the top of the bank I was a bit shocked to see how low it was, the bottom clearly visible all the way across to the far side. Could also see that the gravel was covered with a snotty, brown filamentous growth of spring diatoms. My confidence having taken an early hit I dropped into the river and got down to business. Second trot down the run the avon disappeared and I was into my first, albeit modest, grayling. Confidence immediately restored I carried on, although I had to work hard for the bites, running the float as far downstream as my crap eyesight would allow and periodically taking a couple of steps further across the river to change the line. Had had a few small grayling along with the odd, nuisance brownie when I struck into something bigger that hung out in the current. 

Following a dogged fight I had a cracking dark male grayling in the net that went 1lb 4oz onthe scales. Popped him back and watched him swim off in the clear water, his dorsal fin waving in the current like crimson pennant - one of the best sights in angling. After finally exploiting the width of the river I moved downstream to the next spot. Had a couple of small grayling and a couple of spotties before hooking another cracker, also bang on 1lb 4oz. Looking at my watch I found that 4 hours had flown by, so decided to break for lunch having had a dozen grayling and 9 trout. Whilst the fishing had been relatively slow I'd seen no end of bird life including, two pairs of feuding dippers reinforcing their territorial boundaries, ravens, buzzards, a kingfisher, tree creeper, grey wagtail and a female sparrowhawk that flew straight downstream just past my rod tip. Back at the van I made myself a sausage and bacon cob and another cup of coffee and thought about what to do with the rest of my day. 

Decided to drive a short way downstream to a different club section downstream of Rocester where I'd had some success in the past and would also be in with a chance of a chub. Fifteen minutes later I was amazed to pull into an empty car park - where was everybody? Not that I minded! Made the long walk over the rig and furrow to the first swim, disturbing a little egret and a pair of lapwings in the process. Clambered down the steep bank to a small platform at water level to find a little pile of remains where something had made a snack of a signal crayfish judging by the red claws. Another angler appeared appeared on the opposite bank at this point. Like me he was after grayling and chub, but hadn't had anything all day despite trying several spots, including the run I was just about to fish. 

Not encouraging news and after a biteless half an hour, I moved on. Had a small grayling from a spot I'd not tried previously - a short run at the tail of a deep pool - before moving on again, dumping the majority of my gear in a swim where I'd had a few chub in the past. Managed to find a few grayling in the next spot, catching half a dozen in quick succession but nothing of any size, so with an hour of daylight left I headed back to my chub swim and got the quiver tip rod out, initially casting a black cap feeder full of maggots out onto the crease. After 45 minutes I was about to change tactics when the tip pulled round resulting in a chub of about 3lb that gave a good account of itself in the current. With the light fading, I took off the feeder and replaced it with a link leger with a big lump of cheese paste on a size 6. However, as the sun set on another river season I failed to attract any further interest, so packed up and made the long trudge back to the van. 

Ended up being a reasonable day out, but on the whole it's not a winter season to write home about for me. Oh well, there's always the next one and there's plenty to do in the interim!

08/03/2025 - Still struggling

Forecast for weekend was more May than March with a forecasted daytime high of 16 degrees on Saturday and a degree higher on Sunday, so a session had to be on the cards.  Decided on the Dove near Turbury, normally reliable for a few grayling.

The only possible fly in the ointment was the wind, and as it looked marginally less breezy on Saturday I got a pass out from the wife until lunchtime. Therefore got up nice and early and was heading West on the A50 as the sky was just starting to brighten in my rear view mirror. Parked up next to the river just as the sun appeared over the horizon, got togged up and then walked upstream through the low mist still covering the fields. There wasn't a hint of any breeze at this stage and the surface of the first glide that I dropped into was as smooth as a millpond. Had a nice grayling early on - a fat hen fish over the pound mark - but then had nothing else over the next hour, despite searching the length and breadth of the swim. 

Therefore decided to head upstream, but as I did so a lure angler turned up, so had a quick chat (always looking to gather a bit of intel) before leaving him to try the swim I'd just vacated. Followed the same drill in the next swim and had another nice fish and two smaller ones as I slowly made my way down the glide. My lure-fishing friend turned up at this stage and sat and watched me for a while he had a cup of coffee. Exchanged catch reports - he'd had a couple of jacks - before he headed off futher upstream. He'd only gone a couple of minutes when the float disappeared and I struck into a good fish that shot downstream. Unfortunately I never got to see it as there was an eruption in mid-river, the rod hooped over and then everything went solid. 

Whatever I had hooked had been in taken in turn by a decent pike that just sat holding station in the middle of the river. Every so often I felt a thump through the rod, but I could do nothing with it despite giving it full welly with the Acolyte and eventually the inevitable happened and the 3lb hooklink gave up. Felt a bit bad as I'd not only lost a good fish, but I'd served him up on a dinner plate for a hungry pike! Not surprisingly this killed the swim.The breeze that had been forecast was also now making itself felt, blowing straight upstream and making presentation so I decided to head back to my first spot. On the way I bumped into my friend - again, he' d got designs on the swim I'd just left - so I told him about my recent encounter and he hurried off with a nod of thanks and renewed enthusiasm. 

Had a few trots throught the first swim but again the stiffening breeze was proving problematic so, with no more bites fortcoming I started to walk back to the car. On the way I spotted a short little run down the nearside bank that was also sheltered from the wind, so dropped in for a couple of speculative casts just as a chap showing an expanse of arse crack plonked himself down in the swim directly opposite. Second trot down and the float buried, resulting in another nice chunk, which piqued the interest of Mr Builder's Bum. Next trot down the float disappeared again. Felt a fish briefly before it came off. Wound in to find one of the maggots had folded over onto the hook point. Doh! Not something you really want to happen on a day when bites are at a premium. Gave it a few minutes longer, but I was on borrowed time by now, so reluctantly headed off. 

Again, it had been hard work with just half a dozen fish in almost five hours. Running out of time to turn it around!