07/04/2026 - Change of plans

Popped down for a few days over Easter with the in-laws in Pembrokeshire so took enough tackle to cover a range of eventualities, but with the main target being my first bass of the year. 

However, whilst I knew that the tides were going to be less than ideal, I hadn't reckoned upon the added influence of Storm Dave. Saturday was grim as a result, but by Sunday morning the worst of the weather had blown through and I was down on the estuary at dawn, albeit still with a stiff breeze at my back. Only had about an hour and a half before high tide so planned to fish creature baits as the water came flooding across the mud, hoping to intercept a feeding bass. Worked a Megabass sleeper craw around the clumps of bladderwrack whilst keeping an eye out for any fish movement. However, by the time I'd been pushed back against the sea wall I'd not had a sniff. 

The water had become progressively murkier as the tide came in and a trip to Lawrenny Quay for lunch later in the day confirmed my worst fears. There were white horses being driven by the wind up the main estuary and the water was now the colour of mud due to the wave action on the shore. That knocked any further ideas of lure fishing on the head, so the following day I scratched around in the father-in-law's garden for some worms instead, having brought the ultra-lite gear as back up. Tuesday I was up early again and headed over towards Haverfordwest to my little, urban trout stream. Parked up in the layby on the bypass, got quickly togged up in the waders and then sneaked down the bank into the water when there was a suitable gap in the morning traffic - more to avoid bringing unwanted attention to "my spot". 

Flicked a worm on a 0.5 gram jig-head up to the head of the first run and let it drift back towards me. Was immediately met by un-hittable  jabs and rattles on the rod tip, the worm coming back mangled by tiny teeth. Eventually hooked one of the critters responsible, but it turned out to be a perfect little silver tourist rather than the expected brownie. Later confirmed as a salmon rather than a sea trout smolt by a friend who works for the Wild Trout Trust, I carefully popped him/her back to continue their perilous journey downstream and out into the Atlantic. Salmon stocks have declined in the catchment to the extent that National Resources Wales have categorised them as "depleted and at risk".

When I had two more in the next few casts I was therefore seriously contemplating cutting the session short to avoid unduly disturbing them. However, the next spot yielded my first wild brownie of the morning so I carried on upstream after that, picking the odd one off here and there from amongst the assorted urban debris. Had another surprise when I spotted some movement in the outflow from a sluice around an old dam. Upon closer investigation it turned out to be a small cluster of spawning brook lamprey. Several males mate with a single female, whose eggs are then deposited in a "nest" in the gravel. Job done the adults then die, leaving the eggs to hatch into larvae which stay buried in the substrate for several years before transforming into adult themselves and starting the cycle again.

Managed to get a reasonable photo just to get expert confirmation of the ID and then watched them fascinated for a good five minutes before carrying on. In the light of my morning's observations I was pleased to see that the pollution I'd reported last time had apparently been resolved, althought the occasional whiff from the nearby sewage treatment works served as an unwellcome reminder! By the time I reached the road bridge about 200 metres upstream I was down to my last worm. Used it to trick one final brownie and making it a "baker's dozen" before packing up. I often feel quite privileged that, as an angler, I get to see and experience nature much closer than most and this morning was no exception. 

As I walked back to the car I wondered how many of the people speeding past were even aware of this little gem of a stream so close to a busy road, but I suppose that's what makes it special.

10/03/2026 - Last chance saloon

Well the February water situation report for the Midlands wasn't really a surprise, all river catchments receiving well above normal rainfall during the month, with the Lower Trent and Soar catchments getting a whopping 254% and 272% of their long-term averages respectively. Drought, what drought?!

Thankfully we've had some respite for the start of March giving the rivers chance to finally fine down to reasonable levels, although I've not really had much success when I have been able to get out, apart from the one decent session up on the Dove. Today was just about grabbing a couple of hours on the Derwent with the float rod and remains of the maggots, possibly my last opportunity due to work and family commitments over the rest of the week. Headed to Draycott late afternoon to find it overcast and with a stiff, cold breeze blowing, so walked upstream to the wood where I could find some shelter in the trees. Passed a chap who was in the process of packing up and stopped for a quick chat to see how he'd got on. 

Said he'd been there all day, fishing big baits for chub in various swims but had also tried maggot feeder in some of the runs hoping to pick up a grayling. However, he'd not had a single fish, which was not very promising to say the least! Carried on a bit further upstream and dropped into the first swim but, rather than get into the river straight away, I decided to send the float down the inside to see if there was anything tucked in close to the bank. Halfway down the run it promptly disappeared resulting in a first cast fish - a small grayling. Had two more in the next three casts and thought I was onto a winner. However, the bites dried up and I eventually slid into the river to cover some different water. Worked the run hard for another half an hour but surprisingly didn't get another sniff, so upped sticks and headed back downstream. 

Stopped and had a look at a spot that is usually good for a few dace in the summer. There was a nice crease coming off a bush on the nearside so I gave the float a few runs through. Quickly had three more grayling out of there including a decent male, albeit with a bit of bird damage, before it again seemed to go quiet. Drew a blank in the next swim by the pipe bridge so moved downstream of the island, usually a reliable spot. However, the winter floods had moved the gravel about and had changed the nature of the bottom, so it felt unfamiliar and just a bit too pacey and turbulent to be holding fish. Had a few trots down but soon lost confidence as I kept snagging up so walked across the bottom field to what was going to be my last spot on the sand bar. 

As I did so the waterlogged soil released an unpleasant, "rotten" odour - testament to just how long it had been under water and starved of oxygen.  Off the bar the current was much more even and gentle, the only problem being that the wind was gusting straight upstream and making it difficult to keep track of the float in the resulting ripple. Perservered for a bit, eventually adding another grayling to the tally before deciding that I'd had enough and headed back to the car, crows and jackdaws flying noisily overhead to their roosts. 

As I said, can't see myself getting out again now, although it looks like the weather is going to have the last say anyway with strong winds and rain forecast for the end of the week, so another season fizzles out. Didn't get to do half the things I'd planned to do over the winter due to the atrocious weather, but not going to dwell on it.Time to have a bit of a rest and a reset...

08/03/2026 - An unfortunate feeling of deja vu

Despite the loss of that trout I felt quite bouyed up by my last session, so when the weekend came around I decided to do some prospecting rather than play safe. Had rejoined a local club after a hiatus of fourteen years to gain access to some more sections of the Derwent. At that time grayling were pretty rare downstream of Derby and I had concentrated on the perch, catching multiple fish over two pounds up to a best of 3lb 3oz, but with them now widespread in the lower river I was keen to try some new spots. 

However, on this occasion I decided to try a section just to the north of the city centre that was meant to have a track record of producing grayling in numbers. Set off nice and early along the A52 but ran into my first issue when I got there. The code for the combination lock on the gate wouldn't work and after several phone calls and WhatsApp messages I finally got through to somebody from the club who told me that they were in dispute with the landowner over access and that he had replaced their padlock (none of which had been on their website). They did direct me to an alternative access but by the time I eventually got on the bank I'd already wasted an hour. Started walking downstream until I came to a nice run that screamed fish. 

Began running the float down the inside, moving progressively further out into the river. However, after 30 minutes I'd not had a sniff. Had one last trot down before stopping the float at the end of the run but when I lifted the rod I found that I'd got a fish on! Must have taken the double maggot as they lifted in the current. Gave a good account of itself all the way back, but unfortunately turned out to be an out of season spotty rather than a grayling. Carried on for a bit more, but was soon on my way again. Downstream the river was quite uniform and with tree-lined banks, so I didn't stop until I came to a big, open horseshoe bend at the bottom of the section. Again, it absolutely screamed fish with a clean gravel bottom sloping away to where the main flow raced along the far bank but with a nice, steadier current on the inside. Started working my way slowly downstream and had got over halfway around the bend before the float eventually disappeared. 

Struck and thought I'd snagged bottom before I felt a couple of heavy head shakes and the Acolyte hooped round. Was clear that I was attached to big fish as it did absolutely nothing except use its weight, forcing me to slowly draw it upstream against the current, before turning and powering off and easily taking back what I'd just gained. This went on for at least ten minutes before I finally caught sight of the float. However, the fish decided to really wake up and had me frantically wading after it as it shot downstream. Caught up with it again and saw a chance of getting into some slacker water on the inside, so changed the angle of the rod to try and make it kite into the near bank. Just as it started to move in the right direction...the hook pulled out. Needless to say, I turned the air blue! Unlike the fish I lost last session where I didn't really have any control from the start, I'd lost this one just through being impatient. Took a few minutes to calm down before resuming. 

About ten minutes later I repeated the trick of lifting the rod at the end of the run to find myself connected to another fish. Turned out to be another brownie that looked like it had a recent and lucky escape from the Black Death. Fished on for another half an hour but didn't have anything else after this and, having promised the wife I'd take her out to lunch, I packed up still kicking myself. Whilst I hadn't seen that lost fish I was pretty sure it was another big trout. However, it was the complete absence of any grayling that was a bit perplexing. On the way back to the car I did pass a small commercial fishing pond by the side of the river. The fact that it was criss-crossed with wires and tape perhaps told it's own story. Went home with thoughts of returning in a couple of weeks time with the fly rod and chucking around some big streamers...

05/03/2026 - A decent session at last (with a twist)

I've probably said before that grayling are my favourite fish and normally the majority of my time over the winter is spent in their pursuit. I would argue that there isn't a prettier freshwater fish in the UK, with their slender, tapered silver bodies turning to pewter as they get older and bigger, the unique pattern of lines of spots, the delicately striped fins with shades of purple and violet, the large, tear drop-shaped eye and, of course, the crimson and orange, sail-like dorsal fin of the males. 

Having only managed just a couple of short sessions so far this season due to all the rain we've been having I was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and in need of a fix.

 

With the rivers eventually starting to fine down to a fishable level I therefore loaded up the car nice and early and headed west on the A50 into Staffordshire, the rising sun a red disc in the rearview mirror. 

Ahead of me the Dove valley was shrouded in mist and at one stage the temperature dipped to 1 degree Centigrade! However, when I reached my destination the sun was starting to burn through the gloom and it promised to be a fantastic day. The river looked in good nick as well, with the gravels clearly visible off the bridge. Squeezed into the chest waders and made my way upstream to the first swim. The club only has a short section of river here and there are only really a couple of spots suitable for trotting in the winter, but having never seen another club member there I fully expected to have it to myself anyway. Therefore sat for a bit trickling in a few maggots whilst waiting for the sun to climb a bit higher before sliding down the bank into the river. 

Sent two maggots on a size 16 Kamasan widegape on their way under the Avon hoping for a first cast fish. A modest grayling duly obliged and I was off the mark, in fact the next six trots down all produced a fish, including a couple of handsome but out of season brownies. 

Things calmed down a bit after that and I got into a rythhm of trotting and loosefeeding. By 10 o'clock I was bathed in full sunshine and felt like the proverbial pig in shit, not only enjoying the fishing but just being out in the wilds enjoying the surroundings with a dipper and a grey wagtail to keep me company.

When the bites eventually died away to nothing I moved down to the other swim and started again. Fished that spot out and then went back to the car for some much-needed scram, having had 28 grayling, including a cracking male of 1lb 6oz, and 12 nuisance brownies. By now it was 2 o'clock and I had a decision to make - try the swims again having given them a rest or go somewhere else. In the end I opted for the latter and headed further downstream to Tutbury. In hindsight I should have stayed where I was because I struggled to find any fish and was only able to add another three grayling to the tally, although one of these was another nice male. Did have a bit of excitement in my final swim. Had just bumped a fish and decided to have one last cast before packing up. When the float disappeared at the end of the run I struck and nearly had the rod pulled out of my hands as a massive trout jumped about three feet in the air before hitting the water like a brick! 

By some miracle I still found myself attached and hanging on for grim death as it shot downstream. However, no sooner had the thought "I'll be lucky to land this" flashed across my mind the fish suddenly turned upstream and started swimming towards me faster than I could get line back on the centrepin. When I managed to take up the slack I found everything had gone solid mid-river, the line possibly caught around some debris on the bottom. Tried everything to try and get it free but suspected that the fish was long gone anyway and had to pull for a break. Oh well, another one to add to the list of tales of "the one that got away" to bore the wife and kids witless. Despite having had a fantastic morning I was feeling a bit deflated when I got to back to the car. 

However, that didn't last long as I was treated to a fantastic starling murmuration over the coffee factory at Hatton and a stop at the chippie rounded off the day nicely. Hopefully be out again at the weekend.

03/03/2026 - Scant reward

Well, we have certainly had some exceptional rainfall here in the Midlands this winter. The period from November to January has been the wettest since records began, with the long-term average (LTA) rainfall exceeded in every catchment across the region. Locally, the Derwent, Dove and Lower Trent catchments received 155%, 144% and 185% of their LTA respectively. 

Falling on fully saturated soils it only had one place to go! The full Water Situation Report for the Midlands for January can be found here. It'll be interesting to see the February report as there has been no let up since and again I've been scratching around for opportunities. Went out for a quick session last week after the rain had held off all day only for it to start pissing down when I was half way along the A52, so turned back at the earliest opportunity. It also put the mockers on any chance of a session at the weekend, the Trent at Beeston yet again an angry, brown torrent. 

It was therefore a relief to see some dry conditions this week, giving the rivers a chance to fine down and me the prospect of cramming some sessions in before the end of the season. In the interim I decided to head out after work to the little brook again. To supplement my dwindling supply of cheespaste I popped into Stapleford Angling for a few dendras and then headed off to Derby. Turned out to be a pleasant afternoon and the wildlife was certainly out enjoying it as well.There was a pair buzzards mewing overhead as I got togged up and as I walked down the field I startled a pair of brown hares that shot off at such a speed that they would have left Usain Bolt dead in his starting blocks. Last but not least I spotted a female sparrowhawk gliding along the hedgeline before it expertly threaded itself through the trees.

The brook had a bit of a brown tinge to it, but was running at a nice level, so flicked some bits of broken worm into a few spots as I walked downstream. Again there was no evidence that anybody had strayed from the public footpath and the onlly prints I saw belonged to a badger and a muntjack. Settled into the first spot, crushing and releasing the scent of wild garlic from the new shoots pushing up thorugh the soil. Threaded three dendras on the hook and swung it out onto the crease. With hindsight worms probably weren't a good idea given the minnow population and I soon got fed up of the tip going back and forth like a fiddler's elbow as the little buggers reduced my bait to pulp. I was therefore soon in the bridge pool with a decent lump of cheesepaste on instead. 

Had to wait until it was nearly dark for my first bite and I found myself hanging on as a decent fish headed for the overhanging brambles on the far bank. Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough because after a couple of big headshakes everything when sickeningly solid. Gave it some slack to see if it would swim out again, but when I tightened up I could see my line disappearing deeper into the vegetation. Gave it a heave and felt something start to move, saw a brief flash of a deep, brassy flank...and then the hook pinged out! Thought the swim would be knackered after that but still had half an hour, so rebaited and plopped another lump of paste into the hole. Was surprised when the tip knocked again a few minutes later. However, this time my strike met with token resistance and I skull-dragged a small chub straight into the net. Oh well, not a blank. 

Decided to call it a day at that point and packed up as v-formations of Canada geese flew noisily overhead back to their roosts after spending all day at the local golf club eating grass and crapping all over the fairways. It's grayling or bust later in the week as I'll be having a day off and heading up to Staffordshire. Fingers crossed!

05/02/2026 - Fed up

Seems to be the case that we are getting increasingly wet winters but this has to one of the worst so far. Every time I look at the weather forecast there is a line of rain icons stretching into the distance. 

Coupled with days where it has barely got light and with temperatures in single figures it has been pretty grim. The local main rivers, such as the Soar, Derwent and Trent have been unfishable for weeks (unless you happen to be a masochistic barbel angler I suppose!), the fields round here being so saturated that any amount of rain just ends up straight in the drainage ditches and down the river valleys. 

Hence why I've been looking at the small tributaries just to be able to wet a line. However, today turned out to be a pleasant change - dry, no biting wind and temperatures scraping double figures, plus the sky, whilst still grey, was at least a lighter shade of grey than previously. I therefore finished work at three o'clock and drove over to the little brook near Derby, which had been fining down slowly but nicely over the last few days. Walked down to the brook, flushing redwings and fieldfares out of the hedgrows and disturbing a group of four herons staanding in the middle of the field, looking like a bunch of old men in grey overcoats with their hands shoved in their pockets. Found the brook running at a decent level with just a tinge of colour, the gravel bottom visible in the shallower runs. 

Feeling full of confidence I baited three of the usual spots with some bits of cheespaste and was settled in with a bait in the water before 4 o'clock. Was briefly distracted by a big, yellow shiny thing that appeared briefly in the sky in the gap between the low cloud and the horizon, but as quickly it appeared it was gone! Gave it half an hour but didn't have a sniff, the only excitement being a female sparrowhawk that ghosted up the brook over the water, veering off into the field when she spotted me. Missed a couple of very tentative bites in the next swim before ending up in the bridge pool as the light was fading. Moulded a fresh lump of paste onto the hook and the swung it onto the crease on the far side. 

Half an hour later I'd not had as much as a tap on the quiver tip and was contemplating my first blank on the brook. Wound in to find the bait intact so just dropped it down the nearside close to the bank. It must have only been in the water for about 30 seconds before the tip pulled round. Struck into a fish that immediately leapt straight out of the water and had me thinking I'd hooked a trout. However, turned out to be a modest but blank-averting chub. Gave it another ten minutes but the sky had cleared, the temperature had dropped and my breath was coming out in clouds, so packed up and squelched back to the car. Need some settled, dry weather so I can get some grayling fishing in but it doesn't look as if we're going to get it any time soon!

20/01/2026 - January blues

It was apparently the most depressing day of the year yesterday, although mention "Blue Monday" to me and it immediately conjours up memories of 1983 - under-age drinking in dingy nightclubs in Birmingham, sticky dancefloors and girls with big hair. 

Saw New Order for the first time at the Tower Ballroom shortly after buying Blue Monday on 12" (original and best version) and remember being in awe of Peter Hook as he pounded out one growling bass riff after another. Happy days! The more modern connotation is a load of old, psuedoscience rubbish to me - just a label on any other ordinary day of the year. However, no getting away from the fact that January has been pretty wet and miserable so far with any glimpse of the sun a rare event. My winter river season has also hardly got off the ground. Lost count of the number of times I've checked the weather forecast and river levels only to have my hopes dashed yet again. 

In the end, with even more rain forecast this week and with conditions less than ideal, I decided to head out for another quick session while I had the chance, so headed over towards Derby after finishing work. Squelched across the waterlogged fields to the brook and had a bait in the water in the first swim by 4 PM. The water clarity was not bad, a nice green tinge. However the level was a good 10 cm higher than last visit, which on a small watercourse makes a bit of a difference. My normal swims were therefore a bit "boily", so a decent lump of cheespaste from my diminishing supply was cast into the quieter spots next to the bank where I thought fish would be lying up. Did my usual trick of being far too hasty when the first bite eventually came, sending the rig flying into an overhanging branch behind me. 

Five minutes spent untangling the mess and with the swim ruined as a result I moved upstream, only to repeat the process. Frustrated by my bad angling and with the sun rapidly disappearing behind the hill I decided to go an sit on the pool below the footbridge. Swung out a lump of paste into the back-eddy on the far bank and had a fast, jabbing bite almost as soon as I'd put the rod down. Left to see if it developed, but the culprit apparently didn't come back. However, when I wound in to recast 5 minutes later I was surprised to find a modest chub on the end of the line! Found that he had self-hooked himself squarely in the top lip and then presumably just sat there. Blank avoided through no skill of my own I kept him in the landing net and recast a fresh bait to the same spot. 

Few minutes later the tip knocked and this time I managed to successfully hook and land another chub of a similar size. Carried on into dark, but the wind had got up quite a bit and was blowing over my shoulder, causing the isotope on the 1 oz glass quiver tip to bounce around and make it difficult to spot bites. Packed up and slipped and slithered back up the hill to the car. Oh well, back to watching the weather and hoping for the best.