10/09/2026 - Back on the river at last

Sad news recently about the death of Trent fishing legend and local character Archie Braddock. Was lucky enough to fish with Archie, mastering trotting with the long rod and paternostering for perch under his tutelage, although his propensity for speed made the drive to the river from his house in Long Eaton a real white knuckle experience! 

With a bit more water in the local rivers I was keen to get out this week with the float rod. However, demands of work kept pushing my plans back and it was Friday afternoon before I managed to find the time to head the short distance down the motorway to the River Soar near Kegworth. Go the chesties on and then headed up to the top of the section. The hot weather and low river levels over the summer seemed to have suited the dreaded floating pennywort as there were thick beds of it all the way up to the Deep Lock. Crossed over the lock gates onto the island and walked up to my usual spot downstream of the weir, negotiating several new fallen trees, although it looked as if some work had been done to clear out a couple of the pegs that had been unfishable last season. 

River looked in good nick and I was confident of a few bites as I waded out into the flow, disturbing a pike that had been hanging around on the edge of the pennywort as I did so. First trot down and float disappeared resulting in a clonking dace. 

Over the next hour and a half it was a fish a chuck - mostly dace, but also a few roach and chub and a single perch, all in cracking condition. Had a break from the float rod at this stage, breaking out the feeder rod instead and lobbing a "dink-dink" rig over to the far bank. 

Response was immediate but I had to risk the temptation to strike at the small knocks and rattles and instead wait for the quiver tip to slam over. Quickly added another half a dozen, nice dace to the tally. However, the reward didn't match the effort involved in constantly having to re-fill the black-cap feeder, so I was back on the float rod after about 30 minutes. Carried on where I had left off, catching more dace, chub and roach. Was winding in a small perch when I spotted a much bigger one following it in. Had a couple of traces tied up with size 6 single hooks in the bag from a previous session so, not wanting to miss an opportunity, I swapped the feeder rig over to a perch paternoster. 

However, I hadn't caught anything small enough to use as bait up to that point so shallowed up the float to try and catch a few bleak. After a bit of effort I managed to put half a dozen in the net and duly popped one out on the crease, roughly where I'd seen the big perch earlier. Didn't have to wait long before something showed some interest and bent the quiver tip round. However, after token resistance I brought the world's smallest pike in to hand! Popped him back to grow a lot bigger, put on a fresh bait and repositioned the rig. A few minutes later the tip wrapped around again, but I fluffed the strike. Slashes on the bait indicated that it wasn't my intended target anyway, so out it went onto the crease once more. 

A couple of taps on the quiver tip and this time I was straight on the rod, opening the bail arm and feeding the line out before striking into a decent fish. Initially thought it was another small pike due to the lack of head banging, but when I got it in closer I saw it was indeed the big stripey that I'd been after. However, as I tried to stop it from burying itself in a bed of pennywort, the hook pulled out and it promptly disappeared, swiftly followed by a couple of expletives! Took this as sign to pack up and head home. I'd also been having trouble with a tooth all week and it decided that this was the time to give me some proper aggro! Had been a reasonable session in terms of number of fish including some quality dace, but I'm once again rueing losing a decent perch. Next time...

06/09/2026 - Bassing in Exmouth

Didn't get out much over the summer - high temperatures and low river levels prompting local clubs to enforce fishing bans being one of the reasons. Had nearly three weeks in France as well, where temperatures peaked in the early evenings in the low forties. We therefore limited our excursions to the relative cool of the mornings and spent the afternoons back at the cottage sat around our makeshift pool and spa complex taking in plenty of liquid refreshment. In amongst the sight-seeing I managed several trips out on the local River Charente in the kayak or on the paddleboard.

With it being low and gin clear it was like like looking into an aquarium - saw roach and gudgeon, big chub and perch, shoals of coral-finned barbel and bream, carp exploding out of the margins and even two wels catfish with heads as big as my paddle that, in contrast, barely twitched as I passed over them. Certainly made me re-think about taking some tackle over next time. Arrived back in the UK just as some much-needed rain arrived to provide some respite, although it curtailed any plans to get out on the local rivers. 

Instead I found myself with an unexpected opportunity to do some sea fishing when our friends invited us down to Exmouth for the weekend. Normally I would take the LRF gear and go fishing for mini species in and around the marina, but this time I took my lure rod having seen a couple of clips on Youtube of people fishing the estuary for the bass. Arrived Friday afternoon and took a walk down to the seafront while our friends finished work. There were a few lure anglers about and I watched one chap catch a decent bass of 45 cm+ on a white Sandy Andy that was promptly despatched and popped in his bag. The following day my friend Simon and I got up at 6 o'clock and were down on the beach half an hour later for low water. 

There were already a few other folks down there thrashing the water, including the chap from the day before, with more arriving after us. The tide was already pushing back in so I joined them, punching out a Savage Gear sandeel as far as I could out into the channel and swinging it in the flow. Hadn't brought the chesties, but at 17 degrees the water was perfectly pleasant for wet wading. Carried on for about an hour in a couple of different spots without a sniff before suffering the mother of all wind knots. Hadn't seen anything caught up to that point, so rather than try and sort it out on the beach, we found a bench and had a coffee and a natter in the sun as the beach got busier with swimmers and dog walkers. The next morning we were up at the same time . 

In contrast to the day before there was a stiff breeze blowing straight in from the sea that was causing a good chop on the surface. Started with the same tactics but the cross-wind was a right pain and was limiting my casting distance. However, as the sun came up I had a bang on the rod tip as a greedy, little schoolie nailed the lure, then added another one a few casts later. As I carried on I could see a big flock of seabirds starting to work the surface out in the estuary in fronnt of me. Eventually they drifted tantalisingly almost within casting distance, so I clipped on a chrome Sling Shot "surface iron" in an attempt to get a bit more distance. Worked immediately as I had two more schoolies before the birds drifted off again. The wind had dropped off a bit by now and there were visible pockets of activity cropping up all over the estuary at this point.

In places the bass were striking really close to the shore with bait fish throwing themselves up onto the sand in panic. Following the disturbance and casting parallel to the beach I had three more small bass on the surface iron, which turned out to be a perfect match for the prey items they were busy gorging themselves on. More anglers had turned up at this point and it got a bit daft with people virtually running down the beach and wading in where I had been casting literally seconds ago! As there didn't seem to be any bigger fish about I therefore decided to pack it in and again sat and drank a coffee with Simon in the sun before we headed back to the house for breakfast. Still, it had been a fun couple of hours spent in good company.

Back home now and already a week into September - prime "trottanostering" time for a big stripey hopefully! 

02/08/2026 - Metal magic

A combined birthday and anniversary celebration involving several pints of Wye Valley Brewey’s excellent "Butty Bach" put paid to any ideas of a morning session yesterday. I was a knackered after the previous two early mornings anyway, so enjoyed the lie in instead. 

The plan had been to go wrasse fishing up at Fishguard and I very nearly headed there this morning, but having woken up shortly before 0500 hrs for some reason and not able to go back to sleep I decided to head to the estuary at Lawrenny for a bass session. Got there just after first light, the sun just starting to illuminate the mudflats, and drove down to the quay. The tide was already a couple of hours into the flood and I had therefore intended to bump soft plastics in the flow in mouth of the side channel. 

However, as I got togged up I could see a lot of bird activity out in the main estuary, so walked up to the breakwater for a look. A flock of gulls were diving on a shoal of bait fish and there was also the occasional strike from beneath.  Whilst all of this was happening some distance out of casting range I thought it would be worth a punt, so clipped on a 17g chrome Slingshot “surface iron” that I had recently purchased from Lures Edge. Whacked it out as far as I could and started retrieving it close to the surface. Within a few turns of the reel handle it got whacked by a small bass that punched well above it’s weight in the current. From that point onwards it was constant action with the lure getting smashed as soon as it hit the water. 

By the time that the birds and presumably the baitfish had finally drifted away an hour and a half later I’d had 27 schoolies, all like peas in a pod. Whilst it had been great sport, with about an hour left to high I upped sticks and went to a spot higher up the side channel to try and find a bigger fish. Worked a Savage Gear slender scoop shad around the clumps of bladder wrack in the hope that a big mama would come nosing in after an easy meal. However, it wasn’t to be and I was eventually pushed up against the wall by the incoming tide. I couldn’t really complain having just had my most prolific bass session so far. It had certainly been a case of being in the right place at the right time. 

I just wondered if a heavier lure would have given me enough distance to get right amongst the action and possibly the bigger fish. Oooh look, they do a 26g version. Where's the credit card......

31/07/2026 - Disappointing morning down Milford

Celebrated 33 years of marriage by sneaking off to Milford Haven for another quick morning session. To be fair, it was actually my anniversary "present" off the wife, subject to the condition that I got her a Lidl almond croissant on the way back home. 

In contrast to the previous morning it was bright and sunny with not a cloud in the sky. However, as a result it was a tad cooler at 10 degrees Centigrade and even briefly fell into single figures as I dropped down into the river valley at Gelli. Headed to the stone pier on the Hakin side of the marina entrance and found that I'd got the place to myself, although the port authority had put up some suitably grim posters to try and dissuade the local youth from tomb-stoning. 

Again, it was about half an hour before high and there was a stream of boats of various descriptions exiting the lock and heading off up the haven. Set up on the end, baited up my mini two hook flapper and dropped it down the wall. Didn't get anything in the first ten minutes, so tried a few different spots before finding a shoal of pollack that seemed to like a strip of mackerel belly. Had half a dozen in quick succession before they disappeared, so went back to the first spot which I'd "chummed" with a few broken mussels. Had a couple of small corkwing wrasse, but bites were unusually slow in coming. At one point I spotted a shoal of sand smelt swimming under my feet so quickly wound in and dangled the my rig mid-water for one to immediately oblige and snaffle the mackerel strip.

However, by the time I'd unhooked him and popped him back his mates had scarpered. The tide had turned now and the outgoing flow was bringing a stream of debris past the end of the pier, including clumps of weed and presumably what were discards from the fishing boats, including bits of crabs and a sizeable bull huss.  

Carried on moving about trying to chase bites, but could only manage a couple more corkwings and a rock goby. Briefly had a go off the main wall but it was a bit shallow and featureless, and after another ten minutes without a bite I was back on the pier. A few people had started to turn up now, including a couple of lady swimmers and a young family with some loud kids, so after a solitary shanny I called it a day. Had been a bit disappointing as the venue is usually far more prolific. Whether it was down to lack of ragworm for bait or something else, I don't know. Rounded off the morning dodging traffic and roads works to get the wife her croissant. Might need a rethink for the next two days.

30/07/26 - Quick session at Hobbs Point

With no let up with work through July and the hot weather continuing I didn’t really have the time or inclination to head out onto the rivers again. 

However, a few days break down in Pembrokeshire me a chance to unwind and do a bit of species hunting in saltwater. Arrived late on Wednesday evening with the temperature gauge in the car still reading 26 degrees Centigrade. However, the following morning I woke to find it grey and overcast and a cool 16 degrees. Driving through the country lanes over to Pembroke Dock it was nice to see some greenery compared to the endless swathes of “beige” back home. Popped into Tesco to pick up some bait to be going on with pending a trip to the tackle shop, but the usual mackerel and king prawns were extortionate, so I ended up getting a pack of mixed, cooked seafood instead along with some breakfast for myself. 

Pulled up in the car park just as it started to rain (shock!) so sat and drank my coffee, ate a croissant and peered through the windscreen into the gloom. Thankfully it soon settled down to a fine drizzle and as I’d had the foresight I pack my waterproof coat (it is Wales) I got tackled up and headed down the slipway. Had got there about half an hour before high and given it was going to be over 6 metres I reckoned that I’d got about an hour and a half of fishable water. Baited up my usual mini two hook flapper with a squid strip and a bit of prawn and dropped it down the wall. Did try a bit of cooked mussel, but they were far too soft to stay on the hook, so I broke them into pieces and dropped them in at my feet as “chum”. 

Made the mistake of giving a couple to a young herring gull that had been hanging around in expectation, but them had to listen to him whining for the rest of the session. Started getting a few rattles before the rod tip thumped over and, after a decent fight on the might rod, I had my first fish in the net - a nice ballan wrasse.

Added another shortly afterwards, along with a few rock gobies, corkwing wrasse and pollack, the latter shooting out from the weed fringing the wall and taking the squid strip on the drop. Almost bang on the hour after high the tide starting rip out again, forcing me to find a bit of sheltered water around the corner. 

However, could only add a few more rock gobies and a solitary shanny, so I packed up and headed to J & M Tackle on the High Street for some ragworm to tide me over for the rest of the weekend only for the chap in the shop to tell me that “there’s no ragworm in Wales”! Apparently the suppliers of farmed worm over in Port Talbot had lost all of their last batch due to the high temperatures and with no local diggers he was waiting to hear when the next lot would be available. Therefore ended up getting a wrap of frozen blacks and going back to Tesco for mackerel and king prawns anyway. I’ve done okay with them as a standby before, I just have more confidence in a bit of juicy worm. We’ll see…

09/07/26 - Summer trotting Part II (dace, dace, dace!)

Didn't get out again in June due to some unforeseen demands at work and by the time those were out the way it had got too hot and oppressive to think about staying outdoors for too long. Did have a pleasant long weekend in the Netherlands visiting the wife's cousin in The Hague, although again a high of 38 degrees Centigrade on the Friday effectively curtailed our initial sight-seeing to the morning. 

A quick nap after lunch was then followed by a trip to the beach in the evening for a dip and a beer and some food from one of the pop up restaurants along the front (along with eveybody else it seemed!). Thankfully it cooled down a bit after that and we were able to explore a bit wider and take in the modern and traditional architecture, along with the many coffee shops and shady, green spaces around the city. Back in the UK and suitably refreshed I checked the maggots I had left over in the fridge from the last session and found them in surprisingly good nick.

With the wife away for work, I therefore packed up work about 4 o'clock and headed to the Derwent. Pulled into an empty carpark yet again (not complaining, but where  is everybody?), got the chesties on and then made my way up to the run at the back of the island. 

Didn't fancy walking too far as it was still warm and my "breathable" waders didn't turn out to be that breathable last time, so decided to just stay in the same swim until I'd run out of bait. Could see from a distance that somebody was camped on the island itself and as I got closer I got a whiff of "medicinal" cigarettes. However, turned out to be a couple of middle-aged ladies who'd been enjoying a bit of wild swimming and they soon packed up and left after I arrived. 

River was gin clear and flat as a mill pond in the shelter of the far bank, but at least it was now overcast and a bit cooler as a result. 

Waded out mid-channel and sent the float and some freebies down the bubble line towards the overhanging trees. Ten, frustrating minutes followed trying to connect with a succession of stupidly fast bites that were violent enough to pull the rod tip around but just resulted in crushed maggots. Eventually I got my eye in and started to connect with the culprits - small dace, all like peas in a pod. Occasionally had a better one that at least put a bit of a bend in the Acolyte, along with the odd chub, roach, perch and bleak. However, it was the dace that kept me busy and the greedy, little buggers were still biting when I finally emptied my bait pouch three hours later. Good fun, but I might be tempted to get the "dink-dink" out next time to try and sort out some better fish. 

19/06/2026 - Summer trotting Part I (we're off!)

The closed season passed very quickly this year with nothing really blog-worthy to mention. Plans to fish the local canal and a club stillwater for zander and eels respectively never came too fruition, mainly due to apathy on my part. 

Had a couple of early bass sessions down in Pembrokeshire in April, but the weather was absolutely vile and I was fishing more in hope than expectation and blanked accordingly. In contrast, when I met up with Joel Squires at a new estuary mark in North Devon in May conditions couldn't have been much better. Unfortunately, despite fishing the dropping tide hard for five hours, we could only manage a couple of tiny schoolies between us. Next time! As well as trips to Wales and Devon, it was a busy time with trips abroad to Vilnius, Lithuania, to see the laddo and to Wroclaw, Poland, with friends and there was plenty of walking, sight-seeing and consumption of great food and beer on both occasions. 

Come the start of the new season I was therefore quite keen to wet a line, so having popped over to Stapleford Angling for a pint of maggots earlier in the week, I finished work early and headed for the River Derwent near Church Wilne. Was extremely surprised to pull into an empty car park, although it had been baking hot all day which may have put people off. Got togged up an then walked up towards the top of the section to find a spot in the shade and out of the stiff breeze, the long grass either side of the path alive with banded demoiselles. By the time I got to the first spot I was beginning to doubt how "breathable" my new waders were and it was a relief to drop into the relative cool of the gin clear river. 

Found that I could easily wade out to mid-channel and send the float straight down the bubble line. Second trot down the float disappeared and I was into my first fish of the season - a little dace. Soon became apparent that the minnows were going to be a pain in the ass - the float dithering and bobbing about as it travelled down the run and the maggot coming back looking like it had been tortured on a tiny rack! However, every so often a "proper" fish took the bait and I added several more small dace, like peas in a pod, along with some bleak and chublets. Despite it being the middle of June, there were still a few, fat mayfly duns emerging from the river although, having laboured off the surface of the water, they were swiftly nailed by the grey wagtails darting out from the bank. Short life indeed!

Carried on for about an hour and a half, but got itchy feet and decided to walk back downstream and try a couple of different spots. Dropped in just upstream of the pipe bridge but had nothing but bleak. Was on the point of moving again when two lads appeared at the top of the bank, one of whom grunted an unintelligible greeting and then proceeded to cast a spinner straight over the line I was trotting down. I really don't understand people sometimes, although I suppose they should be at least commended for actually being out in the fresh air. Whether they were actually members was not something I chose to pursue!  Whilst there hadn't been a cloud in the sky when I arrived it had now fully clouded over and it had gone quite gloomy, exacerbated by the fact that I'd stupidly only got my prescription subglasses with me.

The wind had also switched around and was now blowing straight downstream and putting a ripple on the water, so it was getting tricky following the float. Therefore headed to a usually reliable spot downstream of the island, making note of a couple of decent chub lazing about out of reach on the shallows in the process. Fished for another half an hour during which it was a small dace a chuck, with just a single, summer grayling to break their monopoly. In the end it was my stomach, not my eyesight, that got the better of me and I headed back to the car after having had a pleasant three hours getting a bend back in the rod. Will have to see if I can squeeze in another short session before it gets too hot next week.