09/12/2016 - Fifty up!

Gave myself an early 50th birthday present today and went grayling fishing on a small tributary of the River Dove. I'd booked the day off work ages ago with grayling in mind. However, Sod's Law, after days of cold, sunny weather, some unsettled, windy weather threatened to throw a spanner in the works. Rain was forecast over in Staffordshire early on Thursday, so the river level graphs were watched intently and contingency plans drawn up just in case.

Whilst the river had indeed been affected by the rain, it seemed to be dropping as quickly as it came up, so I gambled and made the journey West on the A50. I needn't have worried because, when I got there at about 8 o'clock, I found the river to be absolutely top condition. Still fining down, but at a nice level with just a tinge of colour.

It was still rather gloomy when I started off in the "banker" swim at the top of the section. However, first trot down with the double maggot yielded a nice grayling. In fact the first seven trots down each resulted in a fish - five grayling, a brownie and a dace. Had previously caught chub from a couple of swims further downstream, but never a dace, so it was pleasant surprise. 

Carried on trotting away, eventually ending up with a total of fourteen fish from that first swim before the bites started to dry up. Moved down to the next pool, but this didn't seem to hold any where near as many fish. However, it did throw up a small chub and another dace to go with the first, which was already more silver fish than I'd had in any previous session on the river.

Carried on downstream from here to the first of a number of fast, shallow runs where I'd found some fish before. Shallowed the float right up and inched it down the run, holding it back so it was almost horizontal. Was rewarded by a "clonk" on the rod tip and the sight of a grayling madly gyrating just under the surface. Steered him into some slacker water to land him, popped him back and then repeated the whole thing next cast with his mate.

Moving downstream, the impact of previous floods was visible in places, both in terms of the flood debris on the banks and trees, but also where the river had undergone some "re-modelling". One such spot was where gravel had been thrown up in a bank, creating a fast riffle that dropped into a new pool. Fed a few maggots in before swinging the float into the riffle. Held it back then let it drop over the lip into the pool where it promptly disappeared. Was left in no doubt what was on the end when a spotty went airborne! Proved to be another productive little spot, yielding several more grayling and a couple of chub, so was filed away for later. 

In contrast, the next usual "banker" was a bit of disappointment. The bankside woody debris (and dead cow!) that had previously diverted the flow had all been washed away and the gravel had been pushed up to create a slower, deeper channel. First trot down I caught a greedy, fat minnow. Had another seven of the little buggers before I gave the swim up as a bad job and carried on to the next run.

      Continued dropping into spots here and there, picking up more grayling and the odd chub. Had passed fifty in terms of total number of fish a while ago and was on forty-two grayling when came to another fast run with some slacker water to the side. Again, it seemed to have quite a few fish in residence and I was quickly up to forty-nine. One more trot through and I had my fiftieth grayling in the net. Decided that was a good a time as any to bring things to a close (I was pretty hungry at this stage anyway) and made my way back to the car pretty satisfied with my six and a half hours work. Finished with fifty grayling, nine chub, two dace, two brownies and a few minnows. Fully justified a guilty pleasure on the way home! 

05/10/2016 - Perch sessions, here and there.

September is usually the time when, after the slack period of the summer, I start to get my serious fishing head on again with perch being the first target. I had various new venues and swims in mind this year, but my first session was on the River Soar in a spot that is becoming my autumn "opener" and one in which I've not failed to catch a 2lber every time I've fished it...famous last words!

Arrived to find the river low and clear, but with lots of small fish topping in the area. Set up the float rod and started working the stick float down the crease. First trot down I had a little chub, which was soon followed by more chub, dace, bleak, roach, skimmers and the odd small perch. Set up the perch paternoster and positioned it on the crease at the downstream end of my swim and carried on trotting. However, didn't have to wait long before the rod tip showed some interest. Pulled the line out the bobbin and watched it shoot away across the surface before winding down to the fish. Felt more like a jack the way it was charging about, so gave it some welly to limit the disturbance to the swim. Was a bit surprised and then relived when a decent perch popped up instead and went straight in the net, a nice fat and young-looking fish with vivid red fins. Thought it would do 2lb and this was confirmed by the scales, albeit by a gnat's whisker. Popped him back and re-baited.  However, as it got dark, the only other action on the perch rod was from an inevitable jack, but at least I was off the mark.
The following week saw me back on the Soar, but in a different swim. As with many of the swims along this section, lack of maintenance by the controlling club meant that the willows had encroached, forming an impenetrable curtain about three feet from the bank, so a couple of days earlier I'd been along with the extendable loppers. 

After half an hour's work I'd cleared the swim enough to give me a decent length to trot through, but enough cover and space downstream for me to position the paternoster.First run through with the stick and I was into a hand-sized roach and it continued from there, with some clonking dace, skimmers, bleak, chub and perch and even a small jack that took a roach off me, transferring the size 16 to his scissors in the process, all falling to the float. Once I'd got a few  baits in the bucket, the paternoster was duly positioned at the tail of the swim to work its magic. Unfortunately, two more jacks were the initial result, doing their best to ruin things by charging around the swim. It wasn't until it started getting dark that I started getting some indications that something else was around. First had a bait snatched off the hook, then a dropped run with the bait coming back virtually scaleless. 

Third time lucky I struck into fish that went head banging into the cabbages before rolling into the net - another scraper 2lber with a few battle scars. Fished on into full darkness without any more interest. Had a funny experience on the way back to the car. Had crossed over the lock from the island where I'd been fishing when a fox appeared and kept pace with me along the far bank. When I stopped, he stopped and when I turned and walked back the way I'd come from, he did the same. He only stopped following me when he ran out of bank and even then he sat and watched me walk off. Don't know if he's been fed by the boaters, but he certainly wasn't at all afraid of me! 

One week later and another venue, the River Derwent, on a section recommended by a work colleague. It certainly looked the part, as I settled into a tasty slack in between two overhanging willows, my only concern being that it was a bit shallower than I would have liked.

However, got the float rod out and soon found that the swim was actually full of perch, just the wrong size! Managed to catch a few silver fish in amongst all of the stripeys, including some chub, roach, dace and bleak. Put the paternoster rod out up against a willow, but after two hours I'd had no interest. Moved to the next swim downstream, where I stayed until dark. However, despite concentrating on the paternoster rod alone and moving it around various features, a bigger perch remained elusive. It was a similar story on the River Trent a few days later. This particular section had been kind to me in the past, with five fish over 2lb in two session, including my current PB of 3lb 10oz. However, arrived to find that some of the swims were completely different in nature to a few years ago and were unfishable, or inaccessible. Undeterred, I managed to find a suitable spot, but then struggled to catch anything on the float rod. Resorted to shallowing right up and snatching half a dozen bleak off the surface. Even that wasn't worth the effort as the paternoster rod failed to attract anything and I was back off home once again with out any decent reward. 

The last of this series of sessions saw me back on the River Soar. A stiff, Easterly wind meant that I was back in the swim where I started four weeks ago. However, the river was carrying a bit more water this time, which made trotting a much easier and more enjoyable affair. Soon had a few suitable baits in the bucket to allow me to deploy the paternoster, while I carried on trotting for the hell of it. A couple of sharp knocks on the rod tip alerted me to some interest and a few minutes later a nice perch was in the net. Had one more take that resulted in a stolen bait before I upped sticks and tried a couple of spots upstream before it got dark. However, apart from a greedy half-pounder, that was it. Ran into my foxy friend again on the way back. This time I'd not even made it across the lock before he appeared no more than six feet away from me. Judging by his boldness and a certain air of expectation, he must be being hand fed. Said I'd probably see him again (I fancy some of the swims for a chopped worm approach after Christmas) but, after a short break for surfing and possibly mini-species hunting in Devon next weekend, my next mission will be to up my zander personal best.

04/09/2016 - Go (South) West!

Considering I live in the Midlands, I've had lots of opportunities this summer to indulge in a bit of sea fishing, particularly light rock and light game fishing for the smaller species.

The August Bank Holiday saw us down in Pembrokeshire again. However, the fishing didn't go entirely to plan as I had a blank for the bass and then again for the trigger fish. However, I did find a spot where I caught some donkey-sized shannies that will come in useful for next year's species hunt. 

This weekend we were down in the South West again, but this time in Exmouth visiting friends. Saturday morning saw the lads and dads heading down to the docks for high tide armed with a pack of fresh rag. Unfortunately, ongoing works to the slipway and a residential development meant that access was quite limited. However, we found a spot near the compass where we could fish over the wall into a large slack next to some rocks.

My friend Simon had brought his kayak rod, so I set him and his lad, Daniel, up with a two hook flapper rig baited with whole rag on size 4 Aberdeens for the "big" stuff, whilst my lad, James, and I fished with scaled down scratching rigs baited with scraps of rag on our LRF rods. Simon was quick out the blocks with a couple of small ballan wrasse before I'd even got the other rods set up.

With the other baits in the water we soon started picking up more ballans, along with the occasional male corkwing wrasse, James getting a "triple shot" at one stage! Despite being the only fishable spot, it soon became apparent that there were loads of fish about and, whilst we were fishing over rocks, they were flat and relatively snag-free. Along with the wrasse there were lots of small pollock to keep me busy unhooking fish, re-baiting hooks and tying new rigs for everybody else - deja vu! We weren't the only "fishermen" in attendance either - the local seal popped up a couple of times and there a couple of cormorants fishing off the little beach in front of the apartments.

        As the tide started to ebb, the bites from the wrasse seemed to dry up and, whilst Simon got a bonus little bass, it was the shannies that moved in instead. James started bringing them up two at a time and Daniel caught some real "donkeys" by sight-fishing for them in the shallower water. However, I was holding out for either a scorpion or my first tompot blenny, both of which had featured in various Googled write-ups about the venue. Just as we were thinking of packing up, I had a determined rattle on the rod tip and as I wound the fish to the surface I realised I'd added to the species list after all.

Bizarrely, next and last drop down I had another, so I was quite chuffed when we headed home for a well-deserved sausage bap!

Simon and Daniel had rugby training on Sunday morning, so it was was just James and I that headed back down to "compass point" for high tide again to use up the last of the rag. Unfortunately, I'd not checked it before we left. Upon unwrapping the newspaper, it was obvious it hadn't fared well in the utility room overnight, i.e. it was dead and well on the way to decomposition! However, whilst this made the baiting up process not particularly pleasant, it didn't seem to put the fish off at all as we picked up where we left off the day before. The juvenile pollock appeared first before James found a spot in between two rocks that yielded a number of ballan and corkwing wrasse and a couple of bass. The fishing followed the same pattern as the previous day, with the shannies becoming more prevalent as the tide turned. James added a tompot to his tally before I got smashed up by a much bigger fish that took the very last scrap of usable bait. Packed up at this stage and headed home after another successful session, but stinking of semi-rotten ragworm and very keen to wash our hands!

05/08/2016 - Gars and silver bars

Happened to have a chat with John at Raven Trading about how his species hunting was going and got around to garfish. He mentioned that there were quite a few coming out at Saundersfoot so, having managed to procure a mackerel at the last minute for bait, James and I headed off down to the harbour for a evening high tide.

The outer wall was lined with grockles flinging mackerel feathers to the horizon, sideways or straight up in the air depending on their competency, but we spotted a gap where a couple of chaps and their kids were packing up. Had a quick chat with them, but it didn't sound too hopeful as they said nobody had caught anything all evening! However, undeterred, I set up the float rod for James with an adjustable two-hook rig baited with thin belly strips of the mackerel, which turned out to be less than fresh! To start with one of the size 6 hooks was set at about 18 inches below the float and the other at 3 feet. Cast it out about 20 yards to the edge of the ripple. It was then just a question of getting the boy to keep an eye on it as it drifted back towards the wall, hopefully to be intercepted by a garfish or a mackerel. 

In the meantime I set up one of the light rods with a scratching rig and dropped it down the side of the wall baited with bits of equally stale ragworm and prawn to see if there was anything about. Didn't have to wait long before I had the first of many rattles.

Basically there just seemed to be a couple of species present. Either the bait on the bottom was taken by a shanny, or a sand smelt grabbed the bait on the top hook - it was a race between the two! However, didn't mind as there were plenty of both and I still appeared to be the only person catching anything! The garfish rig had been re-cast a couple of times when James said the float had gone under. Told him to wind the slack in quick and he briefly felt a fish on before it came off. Cast out to the same spot and it wan't long before the float was off again. This time I wound down and struck for him and then handed him the rod. After some brief, surface acrobatics our target species was safely in the net.

Unfortunately, he turned out to be deep-hooked, so he was swiftly dispatched for the boy's tea. Re-baited and cast out again for the float to disappear almost immediately. James confirmed fish on and got it to the point of lifting it out of the water when it fell off. However, there were no problems with the next one. This was hooked nicely in the beak, so was released with a quick shake of the forceps. Not long afterwards I had an unexpected silver eel that made a complete mess of my end rig! It was getting a bit dark to see the float by now and the crabs seemed to have moved in under my feet. John happened to turn up at this point as well so, after thanking him for his tip off and gleaning yet more useful information off him, we gave the crabs the leftover, manky bait and headed home. 

A few days later, I had the opportunity of lure fishing a couple of early morning low tides down on the estuary at Lawrenny for the bass. 

First morning I was up at 5 am, making my way down to the estuary in the half light to catch the tide as it turned and started flooding back in. Kept faith with the "teaser rig" - a bass fly on a dropper about three feet up from the lure. It was nice and still when I arrived, so started with a surface lure, but after about half an hour I'd had no interest, so switched to my favourite Megabass X-120. However, whilst this obviously got down the where the fish were feeding, all of the subsequent takes were on the fly. Had a couple of mini-bass, then lost a decent fish as I was drawing it into the shallows to unhook. Working my way up the beach I had a better schoolie before the racing tide and bright sunshine called a halt to the session.

In complete contrast, whilst I got an extra hour in bed, the following morning was cold and windy. Got to the venue to find somebody already fishing from the point and, as I put my waders on, another van pulled up beside me. Had a quick chat with the driver who was also down for the bass. He said that there'd been some decent fish coming out on soft plastics. I'd not got any with me this trip, so that was filed away for future reference. He was obviously keen to get going, so left him to join his mate on the point, while I went down onto the beach.

Over the next couple of hours I methodically fished my way towards them, occasionally having a crafty look to see how they were doing. Saw van chappie catch at least two nice fish. All I'd had at that stage was a micro-schoolie that you would have struggled  to make a fish finger out of! However, that was to change with the weather. The wind dropped completely and a fine drizzle set in.

My companions on the point packed up, confirming as they walked past that they'd just had the couple, whilst I persevered a bit longer. Walked up to the point where the incoming tide was now creating a pronounced crease between the main channel and the beach. Cast down and across the crease and was rewarded by a thump on the rod tip from a plump schoolie. Next cast the tip thumped over again, resulting in a bigger, albeit skinnier, fish. Carried on for a bit, working back down the beach, but that was it. 

Stopped off on the way home to pick some samphire, which I made a very satisfying breakfast of with a poached egg on toast. Well...you can't have a bacon sarnie every day!

31/07/2016 - Gobies, gobies and more gobies!

A family celebration combined with a "staycation" meant two weeks down in Pembrokeshire this summer and hopefully plenty of opportunity to wet a line. Mini-species hunting was definitely on the cards again and I'd already made up some light rigs at home in anticipation.

Rather than fiddle about tying these up from scratch with my fat fingers and failing eyesight, I bought some Flashmer "mini sprat" rigs from Alderney Angling. With a couple of extra swivels, a few beads and some hooks hooks to nylon out of the tackle box I got three "two up, one down" rigs out of each packet, which for £1.30 each I thought was a bargain.

First opportunity to put them to use them was the morning of the family do. With things not kicking off until the afternoon, my son James, friend Simon and I were allowed a couple of hours down at Hobbs Point. Things didn't get off to a flying start when we called in at Raven Trading to find that their last two packs of ragworm were already spoken for. However, after a quick stop at Tesco we had some raw tiger prawns as back-up and headed down to the dock. We'd timed our arrival to co-incide with low tide, so we could fish in comfort off the end of the old car ramp.
Tackled up the rods and baited the mini-rigs with slivers of prawn. James was first in with the ubiquitous rock goby, the first of many!
                                                                                                   I was soon into the action with some rock gobies of my own, with the occasional black goby also making an appearance when they could get a look in! Could see a few fish darting in and out of the weed on the side of the ramp and a bait dangled in front of their faces soon confirmed these to be little pollock. Simon had been struggling up to this point with his heavier gear and bigger baits, so I swapped rods with him and it wasn't long before he was into the gobies as well!
Carried on being pestered by the hoards of "rockies" (the seabed must have been covered with them), with just the occasional pollock and small wrasse thrown in to break the goby monopoly. However, by the time our couple of hours were up, we'd all caught fish and thoroughly enjoyed ourselves.

The next trip down I was by myself. The weather had also taken a turn for the worst, with a brisk wind blowing straight up the Haven, bringing squally rain showers and white horses with it. Figured the best place to be was down on the temporary mooring, tucked out of the wind. The downside was that it was like fishing off a boat with the swell pushing up the estuary rocking the mooring from side to side!

Fortunately the weather hadn't put the fish off and I actually managed a couple of other species apart from the ravenous packs of gobies. Dropping the rig off the end off the mooring platform into open water I had a couple of sand smelt in quick succession, almost translucent when held up to the light apart from a solid line of silver scales along their lateral line. Moving around the corner I tried something different, scraping the lead down the face of the wall until it found a ledge. The reaction was instant as a greedy little shanny, or common blenny, grabbed one of the baits. Tried the trick again only to feel a familiar "pluck, pluck, twang" and a dead weight as a crab seized the bait instead.

Had had a few of these bait robbers when a particularly vicious little shower came through and  effectively called a halt to proceedings. Called into Raven Trading for a pack of rag on the way home looking like a drowned rat! Had one more session down at Hobbs Point the following day. Fished the first hour with the heavier rod and bigger baits hoping for a bigger wrasse, pollock, but didn't get a sniff. Switched over to the light rod, but couldn't shake off the gobies, or add to the species tally. Time to follow up a hot tip..........?

11/06/2016 - Return to Gran Canaria, part two

Over a few beers on the terrace, Stuart suggested that we have a fishing competition - one hour with same bait and method (Angleworm on the dropshot) for most fish and most species, me against him and Rob - so the next morning saw us heading over to Puerto Mogan again. As soon as the tide allowed we scrambled out onto the breakwater with the crabs. 

The competition was a "roving" competition within the confines of the rock, which in practice meant we were often fishing within a foot of each other depending on where the fish were! 

The action was fast and furious right from the off, with hordes of damsels and ornate wrasse attacking the bait as soon as it hit the water. At the end of the hour I'd edged it on numbers 49 to 47, whilst we'd both had three species - me a parrot fish and the others a small puffer. With it being Saturday, there were also quite a few locals on the main breakwater, all float fishing bread or prawns, in the deeper water beyond the drop off. However, apart from one unfortunate parrot fish that was dispatched into a bucket, we saw nothing else caught! 

Next day we drove into the interior via one million hairpins (certainly felt like it!) and walked up to Roque Nublo, a basalt needle in the centre of the island and what's left of the original volcano that formed it. On the way back we stopped off at the beach at Taurito for some food and a couple of beers. Leaving the others at the bar I ventured onto the rocks up the right hand side of the beach and made my way around the corner to a spot I'd had some success the year before.

However, apart from getting smashed up a couple of times by what were probably big parrot fish, I only managed a few damsels and ornate wrasse before the tide forced me back up the rocks. Stuart had snorkelled around at this stage and mentioned that he'd seen a big shoal of small barracuda in the vicinity of one the hotel discharges, so I switched to small metal lures in the hope of snagging one. Didn't have to wait long before I had a couple of bumps and then a fish on. Unfortunately, despite carrying on casting to the same area, that was the only 'cuda I could manage and a couple of lost jigs brought the session to a close. Monday morning saw us back at "sex" beach. Stu had ear problems, so it was just me, Rob and Duncan that scrambled down the valley. Upon arrival we found we had the beach all to ourselves. Unlike the previous visit, there was a visible line of debris at high tide level, presumably blown in by the onshore wind. Unfortunately, upon closer inspection, it was obvious that it was mostly fragments of plastic, an all too common sign of what we are doing to our oceans!

The tide was still in, so I started off casting from the beach over the sand, slowing bumping the rig back over the ridges and feeling for bites. 

After a few casts I had firm rattle and hooked into a small fish. As it got in closer I could see it was a flatfish, similar to the one I'd lost on the previous visit. When I swung it into my hand I confirmed that it was specifically a perfectly camouflaged (and perfectly named), wide eyed flounder - another new species. Had three more of these of various sizes before handing the rod over to Rob, who'd been hovering around behind me. After a bit of tuition he managed to catch a flounder and a couple of Atlantic lizardfish, which seemed to satisfy his curiosity and get me my rod back!  A few casts later I was bringing in another small fish when the rod tip slammed over as something suddenly made a beeline for the rocks. My suspicions about what had happened were founded a couple of minutes later when I dragged a large Atlantic lizardfish up the beach clutching the cleaver wrasse I'd originally hooked. The wrasse was successfully rescued and returned apparently none the worse for wear before I had a closer look at the lizardfish. I certainly wouldn't want to be a small fish faced with that huge mouth filled with needle sharp teeth! 

Had one more flounder and a couple of small lizardfish before it went quiet, so had a break and sat in the sun with the others for a bit. However, once the tide had gone down sufficiently I started to make my way over the rocks to fish the drop off. I'd just passed a dustbin sized rockpool when I spotted a big blenny-like head poking out of hole. Whatever it was hastily retreated upon seeing me, so I quickly tied up a split shot rig with a #16 to nylon baited with a fragment of Angleworm and dropped it in. Felt a tug and unceremoniously hoiked what I later identified as a pretty little rockpool blenny out of his hideaway!

Popped him back from where he came and headed to the edge of the rock platform where I reverted to the dropshot rig again. Had loads of nibbles from the off, but converting them into fish was difficult. I suspected that pufferfish were to blame as they tend to chomp their way up the Angleworm leaving it looking like beaded necklace! Managed a few Canary damselfish and ornate wrasse and a single, female parrotfish that had two horrible looking lice on her head, which I carefully removed before popping her back. Wasn't too long before I was getting "hurry up" gesture from the others on the beach, so called it a day. 

Had one last session at Puerto Mogan before we left for home but, to be honest, I was feeling a bit fished out. However, overall we had a great time and I would certainly recommend sneaking a few bits of fishing tackle in your luggage if ever you head to the island, or one of its neighbours.

Final scores on the doors

94 canary damselfish
45 ornate wrasse
5 wide eyed flounder
4 Atlantic lizardfish
4 cleaver wrasse
4 European parrotfish
2 Madeira rockfish
1 derbio
1 European barracuda
1 Macronesian sharp nose pufferfish
1 rockpool blenny

Cheers Gran Canaria!