26/09/2025 - Plagued by pike

Had another few days over in Lithuania last week to see the lad and his girlfriend. For a change we rented an apartment on the Coronian Spit, which if legends are to be believed, was created by the giantess Neringa to protect the Lithuanian coast from storms sent by the evil dragon, Naglis. 

A UNESCO World Heritage Site and national park, the narrow strip of land has a freshwater lagoon on one side and the Baltic Sea on the other and is covered in pine forest, a lot of it historically re-planted in the 19th century to stabilise the sandy soil and stop the settlements being swallowed up by sand dunes. Did lots of walking and had some great food, including fish and chips to rival anything I've had in the UK. The chef's secret? Curry powder in the batter! The lad is doing a PhD on birds of prey and we managed to see spotted eagles and a juvenile white-tailed eagle while we were there, along with cranes and great white egrets. Also saw deer tracks and lots of signs of wild boar where they had rooted up the road verges right into town. 

Was indeed a stunning location and one we'll hopefully visit again soon. However, came back to earth with a bump with a sh*t week at work, so decided to have some time to de-stress. Finished up at 3 o'clock, quickly popped in to Stapleford Angling for the usual "pint of mixed" and then headed to the River Soar near Kegworth. Walked up to my usual spot up by the weir and was soon up to my knees in the river and happily running the stickfloat downstream through the swim. Had a few dace and chublets from the off and was bringing another fish in when a spotty, green torpedo appeared from nowhere and snatched it clean off the hook! I then had to contend with this un-wanted attention for the rest of the session as, along with several other abortive takes, he managed to successfully ambush me at least another half a dozen times.

Unfortunately, on each occasion the ensuing tug of war either ended in a bite-off or the unfortunate dace or chub being spat out (retaken and spat out again on one occasion!) before I could trick him into the net. At one stage he sat lazily finning about six feet in front of me like a dog waiting for a treat. He must have sneaked in even closer a bit later, because when I dropped a chub back in by my side the surface of the water suddenly erupted scaring me witless. Despite this I built up a decent mixed bag of fish, adding roach, bleak, perch and gudgeon to the tally. After a couple of hours I got the Drennan medium quiver rod out and tied on a "dink dink" rig again, casting it to the tail of the swim in the hope of a better fish. However, by the time I'd finished off the maggots in my bait pouch I'd only managed to add another dozen modest dace and a single chub, so swapped the dink dink for a perch paternoster. 

I was a bit cautious about putting this out given all the pike activity but as I'd not seen any for a while I put on a small bleak and cast it out away from the "hot zone". After a while the quiver tip registered some interest - a couple of quick taps before hooping over. Picked up the rod to find the bait had indeed been taken by the target species, but not of the calibre that I'd seen on a previous session. Put another small bleak out onto the same spot. After a few minutes the rod lunged over violently but immediately sprang back. Wound in to find that the bait had been stolen, so put my last one out. Again it wasn't long before rod tip was being pulled over. However, this time there was a more weight on the end of the line and after a dogged fight a jack pike slid into the net. Wasn't sure if was the one that had been hounding me earlier, but he was certainly fat enough. 

The light was going by this stage anyway, so packed up and headed home after another short but eventful session. I'll have to see if I can get another one in while the going's good.

09/09/2025 - Dink dink dace

Had a window of opportunity open up for me and with local the rivers having benefitted from a splash of rain I decided to head down to the River Soar again. 

Popped into Stapleford Angling for a pint of maggots and a quick chat before heading down the short distance down the motorway to Kegworth. River was gin clear and there were clumps of the dreaded, bright green, floating pennywort starting to take hold everywhere. Once up at the weir I could see that, despite the recent rain, the water level was even lower than my previous visit and the bed of lillies that I'd been standing in had already virtually died off. On the plus side I could see lots of small fish milling about.

Started off with the float rod but had to wade out a lot further in order to reach the main flow. However, after I'd settled and run the float down a few times it was obvious that the fish were up for a feed. Whilst the chub, dace and bleak were waiting out in the flow, if the float went offline and ended up in the slacker water the roach and small bream (possibly silver bream judging by the size of the eye relative to the head?) were there to take advantage. 

Carried on for about two hours, buidling up the swim and amassing over 60 fish before I decided a change of tactic was in order. Had a brief dabble with the feeder rod at the end of my last session that had me thinking that the better fish were hanging off the back of the swim and mopping up any loose feed that made it through to them. Had therefore come armed with a new weapon - the "dink-dink" rig. Made popular in the 1990s match scene and used to such good effect on rivers like the Trent it originally consisted of a block-end feeder running on a large loop with the hook tied directly to the "tail" of the figure of eight loop knot. Bob Roberts devotes a short chapter to the history of the dink-dink in his excellent book "The Mighty Trent". 

However, for a more contempary take on the method and the version of the rig that I was using on this occasion see Rikki Richard's YouTube video here. Baited up the size 16 widegape with a couple of maggots, filled the black-cap feeder and then lobbed it out to rest at the far end of my float swim. The rod had been in the rests for literally seconds when the rod tip started bouncing violently and I lifted into a small chub. Quickly added a couple more before some better dace took over. It is obviously a very effective method, but one that requires very little finesse or skill as there is no need to strike as the fish basically hooked themselves! In fact, trying to strike just results in missed fish. It's also very intensive as the feeder needs to be re-filled as soon as it is empty. Consequently, after adding a dozen dace along with a bonus perch, I found that I had quickly run out of maggots. 

With about half an hour of daylight left I therefore swapped the dink-dink for a perch paternoster rig, popped on a small roach that I'd retained from earlier and dropped it in the margins to my right. Whilst I'd spotted a decent perch last time out, this was more in hope than expectation as I'd not seen a single sign of any predators on this occasion despite the presence of large numbers of silver fish. True enough, as the darkness descended I wound the rod in and gave my un-touched bait his freedom back, packed up and headed home. With more rain forecast this week the rivers will hopefully get another much-needed refresh, so we'll see if we can fit in another session somewhere.

24/08/2025 - A game of two halves

Didn't get out again in July or the early part of August for various reasons (work, weather, club fishing bans, general apathy, blah, blah, blah....). Then had two weeks very relaxing weeks in France with the family and friends in the middle of the European heatwave. 

Temperatures topped out at 41 degrees Centigrade, which meant we were up early every day and out and about before it got stupidly hot and then chilling back at the house for the rest of the day in the shade with a glass of wine or a cold beer (or several!). Also meant that it was too hot to contemplate the two hour journey each way to St Palais sur Mer on the "Wild Coast", so although I'd packed some LRF bits in anticipation they went un-used. Once back from France I had a couple of days at work before we headed down to Pembrokeshire for the Bank Holiday weekend. With potentially four days to play with I had hedged my bets and taken enough kit to cover all eventualities. However, in the end, I'd not reckoned with the weather or my own physical capability, but more of that later. 

Having eyed up the tide tables and keen to get on the bass again I was out bright and early on Sunday morning for high  tide. Headed to the same area where I'd had a couple of decent bass out in May with a view to fishing the ebbing tide as it exposed the beds of bladder wrack, flushing out any potential prey items of interest to a foraging predator. It was a big tide, over 7 metres, so the level was well up the shore when I arrived and partially submerging the clumps of grass and reeds at the high tide line. Rather than blast my lure to the horizon I therefore flicked it parallel to the shore. 

Two turns on the reel handle and the shad was taken with a bang, the rod tip hooped over and the clutch briefly sang as an angry fish tried to make its escape. Unfortunately for me it was successful and after a few seconds the line fell agonisingly slack. Disappointed and encouraged at the same time I carried on, but three hours later and with the tide whizzing out like an express train I was fishless. Better still I'd managed to gash the knee of my waders and fill both legs  with water, so I had to strip off and drive home in my pants! Had planned to return to the estuary later in the week for a low tide session, so on Monday I headed to Hobbs Point in Pembroke Dock. Popped into the local Tesco for some bait, but had forgotten it was Bank Holiday and that they wouldn't be open for over an hour - doh! 

Headed down to the point anyway and spent an hour or so fishing off the pontoon with isome on a dropshot rig. Quickly racked up several rock gobies, black gobies and poor cod before I was able to nip back to the supermarket and get a pack of raw king prawns. Moved onto the old slipway, setting up a two-hook flapper that was baited up with chunks of prawn and dropped down the side, hopefully for a trigger fish or a decent ballan. Swapped the drop shot rig on the LRF rod for a mini-two hook flapper, baiting the bottom size 16 hook with a sliver of prawn and the top hook with a section of isome. The corkwing wrasse and the pollack loved the isome, often intercepting it as it dropped past the weed growing on the wall, whilst the prawn continued to pick up the gobies, along with the biggest tompot blenny I think I've ever seen. 

Kept an eye on the other rod, reeling it in after 30 minutes or so to find both hooks completely stripped, so re-baited it and dropped it down again. With another big Spring tide that morning, there was only about 40 minutes of slack water before the tide started to ebb and rip along the wall. At this point the prawn rod hooped over and I struck into some firm resistance. Hope of a trigger or big ballan were dashed when I saw a snake-like shape emerge from the depths and I began to think I'd hooked a strap conger instead. However, once safely landed I saw that I'd actually caught a decent silver eel, not the first I've had out of the Haven either. Thankfully he was neatly hooked in the bottom lip so after a quick shake with the forceps he was quickly off back down the slipway under his own steam. 

Went back to the pontoon at this stage as it was impossible to hold bottom with my relatively light gear. Another angler had arrived by now and stationed himself on the end, but he graciously let me slot in next to him. Turned out he was from the Black Country not too far from where I grew up in Birmingham, but had retired down to Pembrokeshire with his wife. Had a good old natter, gaining some decent local intelligence in the process, whilst picking off a few more gobies, pollack and corkwing wrasse with the LRF rod in the process, interrupted briefly by one of the Haven's tugs testing its fire-fighting  jets. Had an eye on the time and was just about to pack up when I finally had a ballan wrasse to make it an eight species session comprising 17 corkwings, 13 rock gobies, 7 pollack, 5 black gobies, 4 poor cod, 1 tompot, 1 silver eel and that ballan. 

Headed home pretty satisfied but thinking I was going to get a wigging off the wife, who instead told me that I could have stayed longer if I'd wanted to! Unfortunately that was it for the fishing for the rest of our stay. I'd been feeling a bit dizzy and "out of it" over the previous couple of days and when my hearing started to suffer it became apparent that I'd got a problem with my ears. Taking a strong decongestent knocked me for six, but helped things a bit and I felt bright enough to contemplate a bass session on our final morning. However, by then the tail end of Hurricaine Erin had blessed us with high winds and heavy rain that knocked things on the head anyway. Not what I had planned, but at least I'd had a decent session at Hobbs Point for a change. 

With temperatures cooling down and a bit of rain forecast it's time to see how the rivers are faring now. 

09/07/2025 - Summer trotting part II (dozens of dace and a bit of improv)

Whilst still windy, conditions had improved enough to encourage me to head out again with the float rod. Had seen off a pint of maggots in my previous session, so popped in to see Scott at Soar tackle just before he shut for the day only to be told that there was a national bait shortage - conditions too hot in the breeding sheds for the flies to lay eggs apparently! 

Luckily he had enough left for a generous pint measure and after renewing my club book I headed down to the River Soar near Kegworth. As usual, only the pegs nearest the carpark had seen any use and the further upstream I went the more overgrown it became, so by the time I had crossed the lock and onto the island I was fighting through shoulder high nettles.  Had a surprise when I got to the swim - the overhanging willow on the far bank had gone, presumably removed to improve the view of the newly installed summer house in the garden opposite. Needed the bank spike and rope to get down into the water, but once installed I started running the float down the foam line followed by a good handful of maggots. 

Missed the first few bites, the maggot coming back crushed, before snagging a fat minnow....but then the dace arrived! Fished the float for three hours and it was literally a fish a chuck. Had fifty fish in the first hour - predominantly dace, with some small chub, roach and bleak thrown in. Second hour I bettered that with sixty-two fish. By the third hour I must have been flagging because I "only" managed fifty-six! At this stage I decided to give the float rod a rest and got the feeder rod out instead in the hope that a better fish might be hanging out at the end of the swim. Swung the black cap out and let it settle but hardly had time to put the rod down in the rest before the tip starting bouncing away. 

Again dace were the culprits, including the best of the session. Was bringing this in over the lilies when a fish made a half-hearted grab for it on the surface. Assumed it to be a small jack but when the water settled I saw a very big perch slowly turn and ghost away out of sight into deeper water. Interest well and truly aroused I unhooked the dace and dropped it into a hole in the pads in front of me. Almost immediately the water erupted as a decent pike shot out of its hiding place, bashing into my front rod rest and waving a stripy tail in the air in its eagerness to grab a free meal! Was in a quandry now as I was tempted to try for the perch with a livebait, but didn't really have the proper gear with me to cope with a pike. 

In the end I had a scrabble around in the bag and found enough bits to cobble together a paternoster rig. Decided to use quite a small bait and it took a while before I caught one I was happy with. Lowered the rig over the lilies and then settled back to watch the quiver tip. Wasn't long before the tip jagged a couple of times and then hooped over. Grabbed the rod and wound into a fish that obviously wasn't a perch, entering into a war of attrition as it shot out into mid-river and then just held station in the flow. After applying as much pressure that I dared I started to make headway and as I got it up to the surface and drew it towards me I could see the bait hanging outside the mouth of a nice pike. Just managed to bundle it into the net before it realised what was happening.

Whilst it had the head and length of a low double it was very lean so quickly unhooked him, the size 6 lodged nicely in the scissors, and made sure he had recovered before sending him on his way. With him hopefully out of the picture I soon had another bait out and again it wasn't long before the quiver tip signalled some interest. This time it was the target species, but was a fraction of the size of the perch that I had seen earlier - the little, greedy bugger! Gave it a bit longer, but with the light dropping and stomach rumbling I called it a day. Had been a mental session and I'll be back for that perch. However, the temperatures for the rest of the week are heading for the thirties again, so I'll probably leave it until it's more comfortable for me and the fish!

07/07/2025 - Summer trotting part I (F*ck off, wind!)

Have never really been in a hurry to get down the rivers bang on June 16th, preferring to let the rush die down first. This season, when I haven't been up to my ears with work, it's either been too bleedin' hot or too windy for my liking. However, with the wife away for a few days I didn't really have an excuse not to get out - better than just moping around the house as I usually do! 

I therefore popped down to the local tackle shop for a pint of "mixed" and headed down the River Derwent after work with the Acolyte and the 'pin. Despite some much-needed rain at the weekend the river had remained stubbornly low. Not quite down to bare bones, but there was quite a lot of gravel and ranunculus showing as I made my way upstream from the carpark. It was also quite windy (what a surprise!) and even better still it was blowing straight downstream, rather than from the opposite bank as hoped. After consigning yet another pair of "breathable" chest waders to the bin I was in a pair of cheapo rubber ones and after slogging along the bank for fifteen minutes it was a relief to get into the river and cool down a bit, although I could already feel the sweat running down my legs! 

The river was so low that I had to wade about halfway across to find a reasonable depth to run the stickfloat down, which unfortunately took me beyond any shelter that the bankside trees had to offer from the frequent gusts. Undeterred I sent the float on it's way and after a few casts had my first fish of the 2025/26 river season under my belt - a decent dace. Added a few more, along with a couple of small chub, but the bites weren't very prolific at all.

After an hour I'd only had a dozen fish, so moved to the next spot downstream, trusting my memory and scrambling blind down the bank throught the rampant Himalayan balsam. Again waded across the river and ran the float down off the rod tip along the trees fringing the far bank. Added a few more dace and a roach, but was getting blown inside out, so moved again in search of a bit of shelter. The next spot was better in terms of lack of wind, but my single maggot hookbait was getting mullered by either fry or minnows and was being reduced to a skin by the time the float reached the end of the run so after just one bleak to add to the species tally I was on the move again. 

Another angler was now in the barbel hole just upstream of the next run that I wanted to fish, so just checked with him how far he was casting down and whether he was happy me dropping in below him. Conscience clear I thrashed the water for another hour, just adding a few more dace. By this time the sun had disappeared behind the trees leaving me stood in shadow and, despite having pulled on a fleece, the gusts across my back had actually made me start to shiver. Decided enough was enough and headed home. Had been a bit of a struggle with only 36 fish over 3 hours. Float control had been an issue and I suppose I could have tried back-shotting, but really I want this wind to do one!

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!