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!

05/10/2024 - Ilfracombe part I (what a load of pollocks!)

As expected the rain put paid to any further sessions on the rivers so my left-over maggots went out on the lawn to feed the birds instead. Next opportunity to wet a line was our second Old Boys trip of the year down to Saunton. 

Weather forecast wasn't brilliant - very mixed, some heavy rain but above all very windy. However, nothing ventured nothing gained, so a selection of fishing tackle went in the car, including my LRF and bass lure gear, the latter with a view to possibly meeting up with Joel Squires for a session on the estuary again. Picked up friend Ken from Bridgewater on way down, arriving in Saunton mid-afternoon to find the others already settled in and the "bar" open, so joined in with a few beers and had a much-needed catch up. As is customary, Friday night is curry night, my contribution being a spinach and paneer butter masala, which we had with roasted vegetable madras, dhal, bombay potato, rice, naan and poppadoms. 

It was therefore a bit of struggle when the alarm went off at 0630 hrs the following morning, but after a quick coffee I was off up to Ilfracombe to fish a couple of hours either side of high water. Had brought some squid and mackerel with me, but popped into Lidl for some raw prawns as well. Got down to the pier as the sun was just creeping over the headland to find two anglers already installed on the top deck with three rods out apiece. The lower deck was already flooded by the incoming tide, so it didn't leave many options but after a quick chat they were happy for me to slot in next to them. Got set up with my usual two hook mini-flapper, alternating a small piece of prawn or mackerel on the bottom and a strip of squid on the top.

Dropped it down between the wooden posts, feeling the dropshot lead down until it just touched bottom. Didn't have to wait long before I had my first rattle followed by a confident pull down on the rod tip, the culprit being a poor cod that had taken the squid strip. Next drop down it was the squid again that accounted for a hand-sized pollock. After that nothing else was able to get a look in, because it was just pollock after pollock. The little spot in front of me must have been thick with them as sometimes the bait didn't even reach the bottom before it was intercepted in mid-water. Had got few under my belt when I struck into something that caused my rod to hoop over before the 5lb hooklink gave way. 

This happened three times during the session, the prawn on the bottom hook being taken each time. Therefore guessed that a decent, resident wrasse was responsible. Had turned into a fantastic, sunny morning and Verity was now lit up in all her glory. Another five anglers had also arrived to my right by now, all chucking leads or float rigs to the horizon whilst I carried on winkling out fish from under my feet. In fact the only other fish I saw caught the whole two hours I was there was a mackerel that one of the chaps to my right found unknowingly attached to his rig when he wound in to rebait! Packed up just before my parking ticket ran out, having caught 34 pollock, one poor cod and a single, small ballan wrasse that came right at the death. 

A decent session in terms of numbers, but a bit more variety would have been welcome. On to the next one...

20/09/2024 - Trotanostering, back to the River Soar

Had intended to head over the Derwent for my next trotanostering session, but a stiff north-easterly wind knocked that idea on the head. Switched my attention back to the Soar instead where I knew I could tuck myself away around the back of the island. 

However, looking out of the window I was in two minds and nearly didn't go but when I checked the weather forecast and saw the rain at the weekend and the start of next week I thought it was now or never! Was therefore just after 4 o'clock that I crossed over the lock and made my way through the wood. As I got to the river I could that there was somebody in the first swim again. Wasn't my spliff smoking friend from last week, but another chap who had just arrived and put a rod out for the barbel. 

Said hello and carried on upstream past the discarded drinks bottles, cans, sandwich wrappers and fag packets that some idiots had discarded in the undergrowth in the next swim. No doubt that whoever had was responsible had been fishing due to the presence of some empty deadbait packets. However, I certainly wouldn't call them anglers! They'd kindly left the Asda shopping bag that they'd obviously brought everything in so made a note to have a tidy up before I left later. When I got to my swim I saw that the river was a lot lower and clearer than last visit.

So much so that I could clearly see a decent pike sat in the lillies, just keeping station with an occasional lazy flick of a pectoral, but as soon as I lowered myself down the bank and into the river he slowly sidled off in the direction of the willow on the far bank. Got the paternoster rod set up ready next to me and then set about catching a suitable bait. Had three little bleak in successive casts before getting a slightly larger one, which was duly swung out onto the crease. Looked to be turning into a carbon copy of the last session as I quickly added several dace, roach and chub. After about thirty minutes I had my first interest on the paternoster. After a couple of bangs on the rod tip the line pulled out of the clip. 

However, when I got to the rod and wound down there was no resistance. Wound in to find the bleak still on the hook, albeit a bit dazed and beaten up - scuffed rather than with any teeth marks, so probably a perch. Swung him out again and carried on happily trotting away, adding a gudgeon to the species tally. After a few minutes the paternoster rod bounced in the rest again, but then fell still. Twenty minutes later I wound the rod in to find that I'd been robbed and had been fishing with a bare hook, but soon had another suitable bait, dropping this one a bit closer to the willow. Had a flurry of perch on the float rod and it looked as if a shoal had moved in, so when the other rod suddenly ripped off I thought I might have caught my target. 

I soon had that idea dispelled as a spotty torpedo started tearing around the swim instead. What was interesting was that he was accompanied by a much smaller pike that stayed so close to him during the fight that I thought I'd somehow wrapped him up. However, as I drew his companion over the net he turned on his tail and disappeared. Quickly removed the size 6 single from the corner of his mate's mouth, let him recover in the net for a bit, then slid him back a little way upstream. After that commotion the swim died off for a bit, but then the dace moved back in and it was back to a bite a chuck again. Popped the paternoster out near the willow again but this time I barely had time to pick up the float rod before the bite alarm burst into life. 

Wound down not to feel the head banging of a decent perch, but the mad acceleration of jack again. Bullied him into the net - he was shorter but fatter than the first one - got him unhooked and popped him in upstream. When I turned to face my swim the bigger pike that I had first seen when I arrived was back. This time he just sat there and it took a poke with with landing net before he begrudgingly sidled off once more. Didn't bother putting the paternoster out again - there didn't seem much point with so many pike about - but carried on trotting away until it was too dark to see the float. Lost count of how many fish I had, but a single, greedy minnow took the species count to eight. Packed my own gear up and then went and filled the shopping bag left by the morons with the rest of their crap. 

As I passed my fellow angler I could see he was down at the water's edge with his rod bent over. Duly responded to his shout of "can you pass me my net please!" and then watched him play out and land a decent fish. In the net the hoped for barbel transformed into a chub knocking on 5lb. My companion had also packed up and was literally going to reel in when he had the bite so rather than mess about getting scales out I took a few pictures for him instead before he popped it back. 

Was pitch black by now but I managed to get back to the car unscathed this time. Purchased two fish suppers on the way home to placate the wife and round off the day nicely. We'll have to see what the weather does now, but as I write this we've had at least two hours of thunder and lightning and heavy rain. Bye bye summer!

12/09/2024 - Trotanostering, River Soar

Had our third trip of the year down to Slimbridge in the van last weekend to meet up with friends. The campsite is right next to the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal and whilst I'd taken some lure fishing gear the conditions on the saturday morning were too perfect for paddle boarding to ignore - completely still and with little or no flow, despite the heavy, overnight rain. 

Therefore had a very therapeutic paddle up to Splatt Bridge and back, the canal like a mirror and not another soul about - bliss! At one stage I passed over a shoal of bronze dinner plates, lazily finning just below the surface with the odd one rolling and breaking the greasy surface. Had a thunderstorm and more heavy rain overnight, but generally the weekend was pleasant and mild. In contrast the drop in temperature during the week saw me putting on long trousers for my early morning walks for the first time. 

It also started me thinking about some autumn predator fishing. Therefore got work out of the way by late aftrnoon and headed over to Kegworth to see Scott in Soar Tackle for a pint of maggots. Had a quick chat about how he'd got on in the Nationals before heading down to the river. With time ticking on I quickly got togged up and started walking upstream. When I left the house the weather forecast had said that it would be dry the rest of the evening. However the black clouds ahead of me looked decidedly dodgy and made my decision of heading out with just a fleece instead of a waterproof coat seem a bit foolish. Crossed over the lock onto the island and up to my usual swim below the weir. 

Not having seen any other cars parked up at the bridge I was surprised to come across a chap sat in the first peg. Turned out he wasn't fishing and was just checking out the river (and just about to smoke the fat joint he'd just rolled for himself). Might not have been his first as he was keen to chat whereas I wanted to get to my swim. After a few minutes I politely made my excuses and carried on up the bank, although I was sure that I'd see him again. Set up the rods and then lowered myself down the bank with the rope, just as the first wafts of skunk drifted upstream. Plan was to fish the float as normal, but then put out a paternoster for the perch at the tail of the swim once I'd caught a suitable bait. 

First cast the float disappeared and a small bleak was swung to hand - perfect perch fodder - so the paternoster went out straight away. Carried on feeding and trotting, quickly adding dace, roach and a few wasps to the tally. As I thought, it wasn't long before my new friend appeared behind me asking me how I was getting on. What with the noise of the weir and concentrating on hearing what he was saying I missed the first run on the perch rod, finally registering that the bite alarm was bleeping and turning round just in time to see the rod tip violently bouncing and then fall still. Once my companion had returned to his pitch I wound the rod in to find that the bait and my chance had gone. However, soon caught a replacement bleak that was swung out onto the edge of the slack water downstream once more. 

Was a fish a cast on the float rod with a few small chub and a gudgeon adding ot the species count and was in the process of landing a hand-sized perch when the bite alarm on the paternoster went off again and the line pulled out of the clip. Unhooked the perch and got him back as quickly as I could, but when I picked up the other rod and wound down there was nothing there and the hook came back bare yet again. Was getting a bit frustrated as there were obviously fish there, but soon had another bait out on the spot. At this point the heavens decided to open and I was forced to retreat as far under the bush next to me as I could to avoid getting a soaking. Fortunately I could see blue sky following, although it seemed like an age before I could emerge from my temporary shelter. 

The dace had muscled everything else out of the swim by now and I was just lifting one out of the water when the lillies in front of me erupted as something made a unsuccessful attempt at snatching it off the hook, leaving a swirling vortex behind them. Wasn't long after that the bite alarm again signalled interest on the other rod. This time I was straight onto it and had the line out of the clip before the fish. Fed some line out and then wound down to feel a bit of weight. From the way that the fish then charged around the swim it was obvious that it wasn't my intended quarry. Wasn't surprised therefore when feisty jack, neatly hooked in the scissors by the size 6 single, rolled into the net. Decided to end the session there - it was raining again and I was getting a bit cold and hungry, plus I was getting concerned whether I'd make it back up the bank. 

Managed to do that okay, but the rain had also made the path along the bank slippy and treacherous, so I was a bit cautious making my way back to the car.  However, still managed to fall arse over tit, my feet sliding from underneath me despite studded boots - not breaking anything but covering myself and my gear in mud! On to the next one....

31/08/2024 - Quantity but not variety

Didn't get any more fishing done in middle part of August as we were in France for two weeks.  Hadn't taken any fishing gear with me as the cost of a "permis de vacances" outweighed the few opportunites I would have to fish, plus I'd spectacularly blanked last time I tried.

We did kayak 20 km down the River Charente, which was crystal clear and full of lillies and streamer weed, me with cling film wrapped around a dressing on my leg. This the result of being chased and bitten by a loose dog whilst out cycling and the subsequent trip to A&E on just the second day of the holiday! We spotted loads of wildlife, including coypu, kingfishers, buzzards, a sparrow hawk, a grass snake, dragonflies and damselflies. However, there was little in the way of fish apart from small perch, roach and chub. 

Suspect from what I've seen of the fishing matches down at the local aire de loisirs (which appear to be more an excuse to drink beer and wine and have a BBQ) that, apart from carp and catfish, nothing really gets a chance to grow that big in that part of France as anything caught usually ends up in a bucket and gets taken home. After France we were back home for a week and then we were off down to see our friends in Exmouth. Unfortunately the town has been making local and national news lately, but for the wrong reasons - untreated sewage leaking from South West Water's failing sewerage infrastructure resulted in beach closures over the summer and repeated warnings not to swim in the sea. 

Queues of tankers lining up to transfer sewage from the pumping station near the rugby club to the treatment works caused traffic misery and left an unpleasant odour hanging over the town centre. However, on the morning that my friend Simon and I headed down to the marina we found that the water was gin clear. I'd not brought any bait with me and it was far too early for the tackle shop, so we had to pop into Tesco Express to see what was available and ended up coming away with a small packet of cooked prawns and some crab sticks! The latter I shredded into small sections and fished on the top hook of my scaled-down two hook flapper as a substitute for a strip of squid. 

Seemed to work as first cast it was nailed by a small pollack. Only trouble was keeping it on the hook for any length of time. However, leaving the pieces to dry out a bit in the weak, early morning sun seemed to prolong their longevity. Bits of prawn on the bottom hook soon attracted the resident tompots and it was a race between them and the pollack to see who would get to the bait first. Often a hooked fish would be followed up to the surface by their brethren and a last-minute snatch of the other bait would result in a double hook up. Took turns with the rod, dropping the rig down the side of the wall and between the boulders in an attempt to winkle out something different but apart from a lone ballan wrasse and despite spotting shoals of sand eels and possibly sand smelts it was tompots and pollack all the way. 

After a couple of hours the tide was ebbing fast, bringing with it a dubious looking trail of brown scum from upstream and exposing the rocks, so we moved onto the slipway - normally a reliable spot for species such as shannies and long-spined scorpions. However, after about fifteen minutes without a single bite and with the water starting to colour up we decided to pack it in and headed to Abi's for a coffee and a bacon bap - well bacon in a brioche bun complete with hash brown and an onion ring! What was interesting and noteworthy for future trips were the three anglers obviously swinging lures in the outgoing tide for the bass, although I hope they gave their waders a good rinse when they got home!