With the wife off all week on a school field trip I was obviously hoping to get some fishing in. However, looked liked my plans were going to be scuppered right from the outset when thunderstorms and heavy rain swept across Derbyshire and Nottinghamshire at the weekend.
Luckily, whilst the rain was truly monsoon-like in its intensity and enough to cause flash flooding in Beeston town centre, it was blown through very quickly and only had a minor impact on the local rivers. By Monday afternoon levels had all but returned to normal. Unfortunately the weather forecast wasn't brilliant - blustery showers - but I was confident that I could find somewhere to tuck myself away. Therefore wrapped up work as early as I could and headed off to the River Derwent near Church Wilne. Arrived to find the car park empty and the river running at nice level with just a tinge of colour - bliss! Got togged up in the chest waders and headed upstream, the long grass either side of the path full of painted ladies and banded demoiselles. Had a brief look at the weir pool at the head of the section with a potential future session in mind before dropping into my first swim where a fast, shallow riffle dropped into a little pool.
Fed in a few maggots before swinging out the stick float, holding it back hard and then releasing it as it passed over the drop off. Had a couple of fast, un-hittable bites that rattled the rod top before one of the culprits revealed themselves - a fat, brassy, fin perfect dace. Added a couple more, but I was itching to move down to the next swim and do some proper trotting. Sheltered from the wind by trees on both banks it looked spot on. Dropped into the river and waded out to the edge of the reeds.
First trot down the float disappeared and the acolyte bent round as a fish went crackers out in the flow. After a few acrobatics a summer grayling slid into the net.
Added a few more of a stamp that I'd be happy catching over the winter, but all requiring a bit of attention to make sure they went back properly after their exertions rather than belly up!
In between the grayling came yet more dace along with a few bleak, chub and small perch. Unlike the last session when I didn't really have to work for my fish I was getting into a nice rhythm, running the float through to the end of the swim and then batting it back with the centrepin. When this didn't result in a fish the maggot invariably came back crushed by the tiny hordes and needed changing anyway. The showers up to this point had been light and short enough to be bearable in my shirt sleeves, but a heavier squall saw me reaching for my coat. The very next trot down I hooked into another angry fish and fully expected another grayling to grace the net. However, I was pleased to see a pristine, hand-sized roach on the end of the line instead.
I added half a dozen more of this size and quality over next hour or so, which made me wonder where they subsequently disappear to later in the year, as I've never had a sniff of one fishing the same swim for grayling in the winter. Carried on with just a couple of kingfishers and a buzzard, kiting on the wind above the treetops, for company. However, eventually the bites started to slow down and I had to drag myself away as my lad was cooking us an authentic carbonara for tea and there was another one of my "banker" swims I wanted to try before I left. Unfortunately when I got there I found that another angler had plonked himself in the middle of it since my arrival. Had a quick chat and discovered that a big snag had been deposited there over the winter and the barbel had moved in, hence why he was now there, so I moved downstream to the next run.
Added a few more dace and chub to the tally, along with a couple more clonking roach before my time was well and truly up and I headed home after another successful, multi-species outing with the float rod. And yes, the carbonara was great!
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