13/01/19 - Storm after the calm

Spent all week at work this week looking forlornly out of the window at near perfect conditions for trotting on the river knowing that I would not be able to get out until Sunday at the earliest. To rub salt into the wound, the weather forecast wasn't looking great, with rain and blustery winds barrelling in from the West. Well, at least it was going to be mild! Had a think about where I could find a few, sheltered spots to run the float through and decided on the River Derwent near Draycott, which had the benefit of being only 15 minutes from home if conditions turned out to be completely unbearable.

As I got out of the car I was greeted by gusts and a fine drizzle, so headed upstream to where the trees and high banks would hopefully shield me from the worst of the weather. There had been one other car in the car park when I arrived and as I waded in to start fishing the first swim I spotted my fellow angler tucked into the spot immediately upstream!

After making a hasty apology it transpired he was chucking a feeder to the far bank, so wasn't bothered about me trotting the inside line. Started off with double maggot on a size 16 Drennan widegape, but with no immediate interest I soon changed to a single maggot on a size 18. A bit later the float buried and I had my first fish of the morning - a grayling that somehow got the line lassoed around it's tail during the fight and was dragged unceremoniously into the net backwards.

Carried on for another half an hour, but after just one more grayling and a bumped fish I moved downstream to the next spot. Had three more grayling fairly quickly before that swim apparently died as well. My fellow angler by this time had decided he'd had enough and had trudged past me without any acknowledgement, so took that as a sign that he'd not enjoyed his morning in the wind and rain! However, I decided to soldier on and moved downstream yet again. Again, it was a question of a couple of quick grayling then nothing, so it was obvious that the fish were well spread out, or not feeding hard, or both. En route to the next swim, a long glide that I'd earmarked earlier on the the way upstream, I bumped into another chap who was also fishing for the grayling, but with the fly rod. Stopped and had a chat and learned he'd had some success on the fly last season before wishing him luck and carrying on.

The wind had changed direction slightly by now and was gusting straight downstream, which was making it difficult to keep track of the float. However, I'd managed another three grayling when the float buried and I hooked into what was obviously the biggest fish of the day. Unfortunately, my joy was short-lived as the hook pulled out, making me rue my decision of dropping a hook size. I'd like to think it was a chub, but the brief fight told me otherwise. To rub it in, next cast I probably caught the smallest grayling in the river! Carried on until the strong gusts got ridiculous, having added a solitary, fat dace to the total, then headed home for some well-deserved lunch.