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.

08/01/2025 - Before the storm

Despite Storm Guretti rapidily approaching over the Atlantic and weather warnings appearing all over the place, a marginal window of opportunity presented itself for a quick session this morning. 

Had to go to the doctor first thing for a blood test, so decided to see how I felt afterwards. Was decidedly grim outside - only 1 degree Centigrade, grey and overcast - so I was in two minds when I got home. However, most importantly there was little or no wind, so encouraged by the wife ("what's the worst that can happen?") I chucked the gear in the car and set off for Draycott shortly after 9 o'clock. Questioned my sanity as the mist descended the closer I got to the river and with the back end of the car sliding about as I drove down the un-gritted lane from the village. Pulled into an empty car park and saw the river looked spot on - clear and at a nice level, at least 20 cm lower than last visit. 

Got togged up and walked upstream with not even a dog walker in sight and with cat ice fringing the river in the slower sections. Spotted that a resident thrush had been busy judging by the number of broken snail shells scattered around the exposed, cast iron sewer pipe that it been using as its anvil. Dropped into the water in my first spot and had a small grayling on my second trot down, quickly followed my another. I knew from experience that this didn't necessarily mean that I was in for a bumper session as the first couple of casts in a new swim often produces a fish straight away. So it proved, as subsequent bites were slower in coming and after about an hour I moved downstream to the next swim with only 5 small fish to show for my efforts and cold feet. 

Had nothing within fifteen minutes in the new spot, so didn't waste any time and carried on leap-frogging downstream. Picked up the odd fish here and there, but again all small and not in any numbers. Kept tweaking the rig, adjusting the depth and running the float down different lines, but it was changing the single maggot to a double that made the difference, a bigger mouthful possibly more attractive in the conditions. Got down to the sandbar with about 30 minutes left before I had to get back home for lunch. Worked down its whole length without a bite before trying "one last cast". Shallowed up the float and ran it down the inside off the end of the bar. Was taken by surprise when it disappeared, the double maggot offering taken by a feisty little grayling that punched above its weight in the current. 

Had five more in almost as many casts, the last one being the best of the morning, a nice, plump female. Thought it would be a good point to bring the session to a close as I really was on borrowed time by now anyway, so marked the spot as another potential holding area and headed back to the car. I'd had fifteen grayling in total - again nothing huge but better than staring at a screen all morning and then regretting not grasping the opportunity later on. Will now have to see how long lasting the knock-on effects are of Storm Guretti, which duly arrived covering everything in snow in the evening. I've got a new club book for another section of the river further upstream so am keen to do some prospecting!

30/12/2025 - Where did December go?

Answers on a postcard please because I haven't got a clue. Okay, not strictly true as work, weather, illness and the usual pre-Christmas madness have all played their part in me failing to wet a line this month. Couldn't even drag myself to the coast while we were down in Pembrokeshire for the festive period for some whiting bashing. 

Back in Nottingham I therefore decided to force myself out of the piscatorial rut I was in and went and got a pint of maggots off laughing boy at Stapleford Angling. At about mid-day and after a quick look at the river levels I headed off to the River Derwent. Whilst about a foot higher than I'd like, the river had been fining down over the last few days and I was sure that it would be clear and that I'd be able to find some fishable water. Parked up in the empty club carpark and crossed over the footbridge as two lure anglers appeared. Said hello and as they turned right I went the opposite direction down to the sand bar. With the extra water on it was a bit "boily" at the top end, but the flow had smoothed out nicely within 25 yards, so that's where I started running the Avon downstream. 

Second cast the float disappeared, the culprit being the smallest grayling in the river! Still, it was my first of the winter season and had saved a blank, so slipped him carefully back with instructions to give his grand-parents a nudge. However, after half an hour's trotting I had only managed to add two more of a similar size. Nice to see in terms of recruitement but they weren't what I was after, so I headed upstream to the back of the island. The main flow was tonking along the far bank and whilst it was a lot quieter on the inside, the river had done some re-modelling since my last visit and it was really shallow. 

Tried running the float throught the slightly deeper, narrow channels but I just wasn't confident that the fish were there and after a biteless half an hour I was on the move again. Headed to a "high water" spot upstream of the pipe bridge to find a tree had come down blocking access to the swim. However, scrabbling down the bank a little further upstream I dropped into a perfect looking spot with a nice even flow down the inside. Was a bit tight and involved trotting the float under another tree suspended over the river, making me wish I'd got my 11 ft Ultralite, but with about three foot of water off the rod tip over gravel it seemed ideal. Had a fish within a couple of casts - another tiny grayling. This was followed by a dace and another four little grayling before I finally struck into something worthwhile. 

Unfortunately I didn't get to see it as it was off almost immediately, the maggot deciding to foldover onto the hook point at a very inopportune moment. However, the very next cast the float disappeared again and I was rewarded with a satisfying "donk" on the rod tip and a proper bend in the Acolyte. After a short fight my first decent grayling of the winter was in the net. This was repeated on the next cast with an even better fish that made several dashes across the surface for the trailing branches to my left, its dorsal waving in the air like a pennant, while I tried to keep my rod tip out of the trees overhead. The last two fish happened to con-incide with a drop in the light levels, so I thought that was perhaps the trigger for them to get on the feed. However, after one more tiddler the swim apparently died. Walked back to the car in the gathering gloom, bumping into the two lure anglers again and who'd had just the one small jack between them. 

Hopefully that was enough to get my mojo back, but I say to myself every year that it's about grasping those opportunities. Until the next time, Happy New Year!

25/11/2025 - Like buses

Apart from the fact that the reservoirs are still filling up, the drought over the summer now seems a distant memory. Autumn came to a rather abrupt and dramatic end as well, more so in some parts of the country than others. 

Last week the in-laws down in south-west Wales were subjected to the "Pembrokeshire Dangler", a meteorological phenomenom (try saying that after a few) that can occur at this time of year due to a combination of the weather and relatively warm sea temperatures. Cold north winds are funnelled down the Irish Sea picking up moisture as they go and then dumping it on the land, in this case as heavy snowfall - cue lots of pictures on social media, severe weather alerts and travel disruption. Didn't have it so bad in Nottingham but made me realise how changeable things can be this time of year and how important it is to make use of any weather window. 

I couldn't have timed my last session on the small brook any better as less than 12 hours later the rain had swept in sending the levels shooting up again. Could see a similar opportunity coming this week, the only difference being that the temperature was now in single figures rather than low teens. It also happened to coincide with me being up in Ripley, so once I'd finished up at work I shot down to Derby. Was settled into the first swim by 3.30 PM, having baited up the usual spots with some free offerings. Last session the bites had been instantaneous, so after swinging a lump of cheese paste out onto the crease I sat with my hand hovering over the rod handle. However, apart from a couple of tiny knocks the tip failed to register any proper interest and after a 15 minute soak I wound the bait in to find it had been whittled down to virtually nothing. 

Moved into the next spot but again had to wait before the tip eventually tapped a couple of times and I struck into thin air. Recast but had no further indications, but then wound in to find a minnow impaled on the hook so at least something was feeding! The sun had long disappeared benind the hill by and it was getting very gloomy, so I upped sticks again as a flock of redwing flew noisily overhead. Had made the mistake last time of leaving it until it had gone fully dark before dropping into the pool below the footbridge, so hadn't really been abe to see where I was casting to. This time I was able to drop the lump of cheese paste right on the crease formed by the willow on the far bank. 

Started getting little regular taps on the quiver tip so struck to find a mint, little chub attached. He must have been just sat on the bait munching away as the hook was well down and needed the forceps. Put him in the landing net to recover and to stop him going and scaring his mates and cast out again. A couple of minutes later, tap, tap, tap and another chub was in the net. Again, retained him rather than putting him back and cast out to the same spot again. Tap, tap, tap and a third fish was drawn into the net with token resistance, although it turned out to be the biggest of the night. The late, great Tony Miles had a theory that the biggest chub in the swim always let his smaller, less-experienced brethren investigate the hook bait first and as long as you were able to remove these with minimal disturbance you would eventually be in with a chance of catching the big one. Took a quick snap of the three amigos before sending them on their way this time. 

Did have one final cast, but wasn't expecting anything else after that to be honest and so it proved. Just shows the line line between success and failure - three casts in the right spot had produced three fish in less than fifteen minutes. Packed up and headed back to the car with the temperature dropping rapidly. Hopefully if the rain holds off the Dove or the Derwent will be fit for a grayling session at the weekend, but we'll see.

13/11/2025 - Small brook blitz

Been looking for an opportunity to get out all week on the little brook and having already been thwarted twice and with Storm Claudia on its way it was now or never. 

Luckily it promised to be a nice day with no rain and the strong southerly wind that we'd been experiencing all week dropping off to virually nothing before switching to a colder and less welcome north-easterly. Therefore finished work at 3 o'clock, jumped in the car and set off along the A52 towards Derby. My tackle and bait had been in the car all week ready for a quick getaway and the interior had taken on a fetching aroma of "vintage" cheespaste as a result. Half an hour later I was parked up and yomping down the field to the brook, which looked absolutely perfect - fining down but with just the right amount of colour. Reckoned I had about an hour and a half before it got fully dark so only planned to fish a few, reliable spots.

These I pre-baited with a few small pieces of paste as I walked upstream. As last season, there was no evidence that anybody else had been fishing the brook recently, if at all - too far to walk for most and nowhere to plant a seatbox when you did get there. I'd just got my rod, landing net, rod rest and a small bag of bits as I intended to stay mobile. Watched a kingfisher for a few minutes in the first swim while the loose feed worked its magic and then swang out a lump of paste dotted with some Sonubaits cheesy garlic "lava" out onto the crease. The bait had hardly settled when the tip of my 8 foot Specialist Quiver knocked a couple of times and a hasty and over-enthusiastic strike sent my link leger whizzing past my ear. 

Managed to repeat the feat on the next cast, so sat on my hands and waited for the quiver to properly pull round, resulting in the first chub of the session. Quickly added a second but then started striking into thin air again, possibly due to small fish pecking at the bait rather than swallowing it, so moved down to the next swim having already used up a chunk of my time. Again the action was instantaneous - chub really are so obliging! Added two more to the tally in consecutive casts before snagging one of the little tiddlers that had been bothering me. Had to wait a bit longer in the next spot and again it was just a small one so with the light rapidly fading I headed to my final swim - the pool downstream of the footbridge where I'd previously been stitched up (twice!) by a much better chub. 

Once more, I had a bite straight away but not from the stamp of fish I was after. Carried on as the gloom descended but rather than bring more bites the darkness seemed todiscourage them instead. Packed up and headed back up the hill to the car, puffing out clouds in the beam of my head torch. Hadn't had anything huge but it was nice to get a bend in the light rod and I'd caught more fish in 90 minutes than in a whole series of Mortimer and Whitehouse (Aaaah, but it's not just about the fishing, is it?). Got home the same time as the wife who'd come back from the vet with the cat £1500 lighter after some dental work, x-rays and various tests!  Weather absolutely shocking tomorrow, but looking promising again next week, albeit a lot colder, so hopefully some more smash and grab sessions will be on the cards.

29/10/2025 - Time for a quickie?

Just had a fantastic ten days in rural France. Autumn is definitely my favourite time over there - warm, clear days spent walking and foraging for chestnuts, walnuts and fungi. Wildlife was also amazing this time. We saw deer every day, as well as coypu and red squirrels. Also saw kestrels, buzzards, a black-winged kite, a marsh harrier, little egrets, great white egrets and on our last two days, migrating common cranes - very impressive birds. 

Unfortunately our journey back home took an unexpected turn when we docked in Newhaven to find that they couldn't lower the front car ramp. After five hours of them trying to rectify the issue we had to sail back to Dieppe, get unloaded off the back and then drive up to Calais to get an alternative ferry to Dover. Eventually got back to Nottingham 33 hours after we left the house in France having had very little sleep. However, by yesterday the wife had sufficiently recovered enough to drive down to see her folks in Wales.

This left me to my own devices for a couple of days, so with some two week old maggots still in the fridge I naturally took stock of what the weather and the local rivers were doing. Made a snap decision to head down to the Soar again and was out the door as soon as work would allow. Walked upstream to find that the Canal & River Trust had moved in materials and equipment to start renovation work on the "Deep Lock" at the top of the section. Not before time as the old, wooden gates leak like a sieve but it did mean that access over the lock to the island was soon going to be out of bounds, so this looked to be be my last chance for a while. By the time I had got to the swim and got everything set up it was 1530 hrs so I guessed that I had about an hour and a half before dark. 

Quickly got to work with the float rod and whilst bites were initially hard to come by, the usual suspects started to show up, including chub, dace, roach, gudgeon and bleak. The paternoster rod had been deployed as quickly as possible and it wasn't long before the rod tip banged a couple of times and the line pulled out of the bobbin clip. Wound down into what I thought might have been a perch but turned out to be a micro-jack pinned by the size 6 single through the end of his schnozzle. A bit later I unhooked and dropped a small bleak back into the river to see it shoot across the surface but then disappear into a vortex. Quickly wound the paternoster rod in and cast it out onto the same spot. 

Hadn't even got the line clipped up before it was snatched from my fingers. Wound down into something a bit more substantial this time, but still not a perch. Carried on with the float rod until I could no longer see properly and then gave the paternoster rod an extra ten minutes. Was just about to pack up when the rod tip thumped over just the once. Waited to see if the agressor would return but then wound in to find a very dead roach with several puncture wounds - zander possibly? Packed up and walked back to the car, my breath coming out in clouds in the cold air, setting off the alarm in the Canal & River Trust site compound in the process! Will have to see about doing some sessions into dark now for an elusive River Trent zed.