05/04/2024 - Ilfracombe part I (what a load of pollocks!)

As expected the rain put paid to any further sessions on the rivers so my left-over maggots went out on the lawn to feed the birds instead. Next opportunity to wet a line was our second Old Boys trip of the year down to Saunton. 

Weather forecast wasn't brilliant - very mixed, some heavy rain but above all very windy. However, nothing ventured nothing gained, so a selection of fishing tackle went in the car, including my LRF and bass lure gear, the latter with a view to possibly meeting up with Joel Squires for a session on the estuary again. Picked up friend Ken from Bridgewater on way down, arriving in Saunton mid-afternoon to find the others already settled in and the "bar" open, so joined in with a few beers and had a much-needed catch up. As is customary, Friday night is curry night, my contribution being a spinach and paneer butter masala, which we had with roasted vegetable madras, dhal, bombay potato, rice, naan and poppadoms. 

It was therefore a bit of struggle when the alarm went off at 0630 hrs the following morning, but after a quick coffee I was off up to Ilfracombe to fish a couple of hours either side of high water. Had brought some squid and mackerel with me, but popped into Lidl for some raw prawns as well. Got down to the pier as the sun was just creeping over the headland to find two anglers already installed on the top deck with three rods out apiece. The lower deck was already flooded by the incoming tide, so it didn't leave many options but after a quick chat they were happy for me to slot in next to them. Got set up with my usual two hook mini-flapper, alternating a small piece of prawn or mackerel on the bottom and a strip of squid on the top.

Dropped it down between the wooden posts, feeling the dropshot lead down until it just touched bottom. Didn't have to wait long before I had my first rattle followed by a confident pull down on the rod tip, the culprit being a poor cod that had taken the squid strip. Next drop down it was the squid again that accounted for a hand-sized pollock. After that nothing else was able to get a look in, because it was just pollock after pollock. The little spot in front of me must have been thick with them as sometimes the bait didn't even reach the bottom before it was intercepted in mid-water. Had got few under my belt when I struck into something that caused my rod to hoop over before the 5lb hooklink gave way. 

This happened three times during the session, the prawn on the bottom hook being taken each time. Therefore guessed that a decent, resident wrasse was responsible. Had turned into a fantastic, sunny morning and Verity was now lit up in all her glory. Another five anglers had also arrived to my right by now, all chucking leads or float rigs to the horizon whilst I carried on winkling out fish from under my feet. In fact the only other fish I saw caught the whole two hours I was there was a mackerel that one of the chaps to my right found unknowingly attached to his rig when he wound in to rebait! Packed up just before my parking ticket ran out, having caught 34 pollock, one poor cod and a single, small ballan wrasse that came right at the death. 

A decent session in terms of numbers, but a bit more variety would have been welcome. On to the next one...

20/09/2024 - Trotanostering, back to the River Soar

Had intended to head over the Derwent for my next trotanostering session, but a stiff north-easterly wind knocked that idea on the head. Switched my attention back to the Soar instead where I knew I could tuck myself away around the back of the island. 

However, looking out of the window I was in two minds and nearly didn't go but when I checked the weather forecast and saw the rain at the weekend and the start of next week I thought it was now or never! Was therefore just after 4 o'clock that I crossed over the lock and made my way through the wood. As I got to the river I could that there was somebody in the first swim again. Wasn't my spliff smoking friend from last week, but another chap who had just arrived and put a rod out for the barbel. 

Said hello and carried on upstream past the discarded drinks bottles, cans, sandwich wrappers and fag packets that some idiots had discarded in the undergrowth in the next swim. No doubt that whoever had was responsible had been fishing due to the presence of some empty deadbait packets. However, I certainly wouldn't call them anglers! They'd kindly left the Asda shopping bag that they'd obviously brought everything in so made a note to have a tidy up before I left later. When I got to my swim I saw that the river was a lot lower and clearer than last visit.

So much so that I could clearly see a decent pike sat in the lillies, just keeping station with an occasional lazy flick of a pectoral, but as soon as I lowered myself down the bank and into the river he slowly sidled off in the direction of the willow on the far bank. Got the paternoster rod set up ready next to me and then set about catching a suitable bait. Had three little bleak in successive casts before getting a slightly larger one, which was duly swung out onto the crease. Looked to be turning into a carbon copy of the last session as I quickly added several dace, roach and chub. After about thirty minutes I had my first interest on the paternoster. After a couple of bangs on the rod tip the line pulled out of the clip. 

However, when I got to the rod and wound down there was no resistance. Wound in to find the bleak still on the hook, albeit a bit dazed and beaten up - scuffed rather than with any teeth marks, so probably a perch. Swung him out again and carried on happily trotting away, adding a gudgeon to the species tally. After a few minutes the paternoster rod bounced in the rest again, but then fell still. Twenty minutes later I wound the rod in to find that I'd been robbed and had been fishing with a bare hook, but soon had another suitable bait, dropping this one a bit closer to the willow. Had a flurry of perch on the float rod and it looked as if a shoal had moved in, so when the other rod suddenly ripped off I thought I might have caught my target. 

I soon had that idea dispelled as a spotty torpedo started tearing around the swim instead. What was interesting was that he was accompanied by a much smaller pike that stayed so close to him during the fight that I thought I'd somehow wrapped him up. However, as I drew his companion over the net he turned on his tail and disappeared. Quickly removed the size 6 single from the corner of his mate's mouth, let him recover in the net for a bit, then slid him back a little way upstream. After that commotion the swim died off for a bit, but then the dace moved back in and it was back to a bite a chuck again. Popped the paternoster out near the willow again but this time I barely had time to pick up the float rod before the bite alarm burst into life. 

Wound down not to feel the head banging of a decent perch, but the mad acceleration of jack again. Bullied him into the net - he was shorter but fatter than the first one - got him unhooked and popped him in upstream. When I turned to face my swim the bigger pike that I had first seen when I arrived was back. This time he just sat there and it took a poke with with landing net before he begrudgingly sidled off once more. Didn't bother putting the paternoster out again - there didn't seem much point with so many pike about - but carried on trotting away until it was too dark to see the float. Lost count of how many fish I had, but a single, greedy minnow took the species count to eight. Packed my own gear up and then went and filled the shopping bag left by the morons with the rest of their crap. 

As I passed my fellow angler I could see he was down at the water's edge with his rod bent over. Duly responded to his shout of "can you pass me my net please!" and then watched him play out and land a decent fish. In the net the hoped for barbel transformed into a chub knocking on 5lb. My companion had also packed up and was literally going to reel in when he had the bite so rather than mess about getting scales out I took a few pictures for him instead before he popped it back. 

Was pitch black by now but I managed to get back to the car unscathed this time. Purchased two fish suppers on the way home to placate the wife and round off the day nicely. We'll have to see what the weather does now, but as I write this we've had at least two hours of thunder and lightning and heavy rain. Bye bye summer!

12/09/2024 - Trotanostering, River Soar

Had our third trip of the year down to Slimbridge in the van last weekend to meet up with friends. The campsite is right next to the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal and whilst I'd taken some lure fishing gear the conditions on the saturday morning were too perfect for paddle boarding to ignore - completely still and with little or no flow, despite the heavy, overnight rain. 

Therefore had a very therapeutic paddle up to Splatt Bridge and back, the canal like a mirror and not another soul about - bliss! At one stage I passed over a shoal of bronze dinner plates, lazily finning just below the surface with the odd one rolling and breaking the greasy surface. Had a thunderstorm and more heavy rain overnight, but generally the weekend was pleasant and mild. In contrast the drop in temperature during the week saw me putting on long trousers for my early morning walks for the first time. 

It also started me thinking about some autumn predator fishing. Therefore got work out of the way by late aftrnoon and headed over to Kegworth to see Scott in Soar Tackle for a pint of maggots. Had a quick chat about how he'd got on in the Nationals before heading down to the river. With time ticking on I quickly got togged up and started walking upstream. When I left the house the weather forecast had said that it would be dry the rest of the evening. However the black clouds ahead of me looked decidedly dodgy and made my decision of heading out with just a fleece instead of a waterproof coat seem a bit foolish. Crossed over the lock onto the island and up to my usual swim below the weir. 

Not having seen any other cars parked up at the bridge I was surprised to come across a chap sat in the first peg. Turned out he wasn't fishing and was just checking out the river (and just about to smoke the fat joint he'd just rolled for himself). Might not have been his first as he was keen to chat whereas I wanted to get to my swim. After a few minutes I politely made my excuses and carried on up the bank, although I was sure that I'd see him again. Set up the rods and then lowered myself down the bank with the rope, just as the first wafts of skunk drifted upstream. Plan was to fish the float as normal, but then put out a paternoster for the perch at the tail of the swim once I'd caught a suitable bait. 

First cast the float disappeared and a small bleak was swung to hand - perfect perch fodder - so the paternoster went out straight away. Carried on feeding and trotting, quickly adding dace, roach and a few wasps to the tally. As I thought, it wasn't long before my new friend appeared behind me asking me how I was getting on. What with the noise of the weir and concentrating on hearing what he was saying I missed the first run on the perch rod, finally registering that the bite alarm was bleeping and turning round just in time to see the rod tip violently bouncing and then fall still. Once my companion had returned to his pitch I wound the rod in to find that the bait and my chance had gone. However, soon caught a replacement bleak that was swung out onto the edge of the slack water downstream once more. 

Was a fish a cast on the float rod with a few small chub and a gudgeon adding ot the species count and was in the process of landing a hand-sized perch when the bite alarm on the paternoster went off again and the line pulled out of the clip. Unhooked the perch and got him back as quickly as I could, but when I picked up the other rod and wound down there was nothing there and the hook came back bare yet again. Was getting a bit frustrated as there were obviously fish there, but soon had another bait out on the spot. At this point the heavens decided to open and I was forced to retreat as far under the bush next to me as I could to avoid getting a soaking. Fortunately I could see blue sky following, although it seemed like an age before I could emerge from my temporary shelter. 

The dace had muscled everything else out of the swim by now and I was just lifting one out of the water when the lillies in front of me erupted as something made a unsuccessful attempt at snatching it off the hook, leaving a swirling vortex behind them. Wasn't long after that the bite alarm again signalled interest on the other rod. This time I was straight onto it and had the line out of the clip before the fish. Fed some line out and then wound down to feel a bit of weight. From the way that the fish then charged around the swim it was obvious that it wasn't my intended quarry. Wasn't surprised therefore when feisty jack, neatly hooked in the scissors by the size 6 single, rolled into the net. Decided to end the session there - it was raining again and I was getting a bit cold and hungry, plus I was getting concerned whether I'd make it back up the bank. 

Managed to do that okay, but the rain had also made the path along the bank slippy and treacherous, so I was a bit cautious making my way back to the car.  However, still managed to fall arse over tit, my feet sliding from underneath me despite studded boots - not breaking anything but covering myself and my gear in mud! On to the next one....

31/08/2024 - Quantity but not variety

Didn't get any more fishing done in middle part of August as we were in France for two weeks.  Hadn't taken any fishing gear with me as the cost of a "permis de vacances" outweighed the few opportunites I would have to fish, plus I'd spectacularly blanked last time I tried.

We did kayak 20 km down the River Charente, which was crystal clear and full of lillies and streamer weed, me with cling film wrapped around a dressing on my leg. This the result of being chased and bitten by a loose dog whilst out cycling and the subsequent trip to A&E on just the second day of the holiday! We spotted loads of wildlife, including coypu, kingfishers, buzzards, a sparrow hawk, a grass snake, dragonflies and damselflies. However, there was little in the way of fish apart from small perch, roach and chub. 

Suspect from what I've seen of the fishing matches down at the local aire de loisirs (which appear to be more an excuse to drink beer and wine and have a BBQ) that, apart from carp and catfish, nothing really gets a chance to grow that big in that part of France as anything caught usually ends up in a bucket and gets taken home. After France we were back home for a week and then we were off down to see our friends in Exmouth. Unfortunately the town has been making local and national news lately, but for the wrong reasons - untreated sewage leaking from South West Water's failing sewerage infrastructure resulted in beach closures over the summer and repeated warnings not to swim in the sea. 

Queues of tankers lining up to transfer sewage from the pumping station near the rugby club to the treatment works caused traffic misery and left an unpleasant odour hanging over the town centre. However, on the morning that my friend Simon and I headed down to the marina we found that the water was gin clear. I'd not brought any bait with me and it was far too early for the tackle shop, so we had to pop into Tesco Express to see what was available and ended up coming away with a small packet of cooked prawns and some crab sticks! The latter I shredded into small sections and fished on the top hook of my scaled-down two hook flapper as a substitute for a strip of squid. 

Seemed to work as first cast it was nailed by a small pollack. Only trouble was keeping it on the hook for any length of time. However, leaving the pieces to dry out a bit in the weak, early morning sun seemed to prolong their longevity. Bits of prawn on the bottom hook soon attracted the resident tompots and it was a race between them and the pollack to see who would get to the bait first. Often a hooked fish would be followed up to the surface by their brethren and a last-minute snatch of the other bait would result in a double hook up. Took turns with the rod, dropping the rig down the side of the wall and between the boulders in an attempt to winkle out something different but apart from a lone ballan wrasse and despite spotting shoals of sand eels and possibly sand smelts it was tompots and pollack all the way. 

After a couple of hours the tide was ebbing fast, bringing with it a dubious looking trail of brown scum from upstream and exposing the rocks, so we moved onto the slipway - normally a reliable spot for species such as shannies and long-spined scorpions. However, after about fifteen minutes without a single bite and with the water starting to colour up we decided to pack it in and headed to Abi's for a coffee and a bacon bap - well bacon in a brioche bun complete with hash brown and an onion ring! What was interesting and noteworthy for future trips were the three anglers obviously swinging lures in the outgoing tide for the bass, although I hope they gave their waders a good rinse when they got home!

04/08/2024 - Bass blanks and back to basics

Headed down to Pembrokeshire for a few days last week for the father in law's birthday - 83, increasingly cantankerous, deaf and with dodgy legs but otherwise still going strong. As usual I took my bass and LRF gear, although the priority was to try get another bass on the lures. 

Unfortunately the tides were a bit neither here nor there and I had to wait until the Friday morning before I could head off to the estuary at a reasonable time. Usually I fish the flood, but this time high tide was early doors so I would be fishing the ebb instead. Therefore had a look on the map at a couple of spots higher up the esturary, eventually settling on Picton Point where the Eastern and Western branches of the River Cleddau join together - on paper at least an ideal ambush point for fish travelling back down river on the outgoing tide. Got there an hour after high water and got togged up, trying not to disturb the inhabitants of a couple of vans that had been parked up for the night, and made my way along the shore to the point.

Didn't have the need to use the open air toilet facilities and took stock of my surroundings instead. In contrast to the warm, sunny conditions of the previous day, it was overcast, cool and quite breezy and the resulting wave action had muddied up the margins. I also had to wade out well over waist depth as well to clear the band of floating debris that was being dragged out to sea by the tide and I was beginning to regret my choice of venue.The next two and a half hours was spent punching various lures out into the flow. However, my efforts proved to be for nothing with not even a bump or a knock. 

Undaunted I returned to the estuary the following day, but this time I'd played it safe and headed to Lawrenny instead. The conditions had improved and the wind had dropped enough to try for one off the top. Unfortunately after a couple of casts with the Patchinko I found that there was far too much floating weed about, so it was back to bumping soft plastics around on the bottom the instead. Went through the lure box over the next couple of hours trying various different sizes and colours, but again I ended up fishless. Even the mullet seemed to be taking the mick - launching themselves out of the water without any warning and boshing back on the surface, scaring me witless in the process. 

The only saving grace was that Poseidon hadn't claimed any of my tackle, but it was still a tired and disappointed angler that went home that morning. Gave the bass a miss then next day as it obviously wasn't happening on that front and instead headed to Milford Haven with the LRF gear. Had intended to fish off the pier at Hakin, but as I dropped down the hill towards the marina I could see that there were some people already there. Pulled up a couple of minutes later to find three anglers with six rods spread out between them. Bugger! Contemplated fishing next to the marina entrance, but there was already a stiff breeze blowing straight across the Haven that would have made fishing down the high wall a bit tricky. 

Instead I jumped back in the car and made the 15 minute journey back out of Milford, over the Cleddau Bridge and down into Pembroke Dock to Hobb's Point just in time for high water. Made my way down the ramp to the water level and rigged up my usual mini-two hook flapper with size 16 Drennan widegapes. I hadn't had time to get any fresh bait, so was making do with the last of my salted rag and what I had stashed in the mother-in-law's freezer. Went with a sliver of squid on the top hook and alternated bits of worm and tiny cubes of mackerel belly on the bottom. Had a couple of small pollack and the inevitable rock goby but it was slow going and it wasn't long before the ebb tide started picking up. 

At that point I decided to move and made my way down the gang plank and onto the floating pontoon at the base of the wall. A change of spot, possibly combined with the increase in flow, seemed to make a difference straight away as I was immediately into the fish, a succession of pollack coming on the squid strip and the mackerel (I'd dispensed with the worm as it was just getting stripped off the hook) picking up corkwing and ballan wrasse, black gobies and yet more rock gobies. 

Even managed a little bass, which was a nice surprise. Was fishing away quite happily when a string of mackerel feathers came flying over my head. The culprit, a chap about the same age as me, then came stomping down the gangplank, winding furiously. Whether it was due to the look on my face but rather than apologise when he spotted me he immediately got a bit arsy saying "What's the matter? You in a mood 'cus I pinched your spot?". Decided not to get into it and said "No, carry on", but it just re-inforced the fact that there a lot of twats in this world. Carried on for a bit longer, but had to get back as we were heading off back to Nottingham at mid-day. Despite a slow start I'd had over 50 fish, half of which had been pollack. 

Hadn't been hampered by the lack of fresh bait and it was good to know that squid and mackerel are a decent standby. Doubt if we'll be back to Wales this summer, so that'll leave our October trip to Saunton for one last chance for a bass. 

25/07/2024 - Summer trotting part IV (sobering times)

My neighbour Mark sadly passed away yesterday at the age of 57, the same as age as me. An intimidating character with tattoos and piercings who rode a huge, two-stroke chopper that made the windows rattle in their frames every time he fired it up. In reality he was a very private person who kept himself to himself. 

However, if he happened to be out in his garden tinkering with one of his classic American cars we always had a chat and if there was any need for a weird, non-standard tool, socket or allen key he'd always have it and be glad to lend it to you. It was while he was working on his latest acquisition, a "rat rod", that he suddenly collapsed and despite his partner immediately calling an ambulance there was nothing they could do for him. Brought to mind the loss of my father who passed away without any warning while I was on holiday. Four years down the line I still find it difficult sometimes to comprehend that he's gone and now similarly with Mark, it's strange to think that we'll never hear the staccato roar of his bike on the road again. 

I was therefore in a sombre mood when I started work this morning and after a particularly meaningless, morale-sapping meeting I decided to finish early and go and get some head space instead. Ended up taking my dad's old Abu match rod back to the River Soar near Kegworth. The river had dropped significantly since my last visit, but still had a peaty brown tinge to it. Walked up to the island, crossed the lock and then fought my way through the even taller nettles and clinging burdock to my swim. With the rod still set up from the previous session I was set up and in the water within five minutes and less than one minute after that I swung my first fish - a fin perfect dace (what else?) - to hand. 

After that it was a bite a cast, mostly dace, but with bleak, roach, chub, gudgeon and perch adding to the tally. Was also unlucky not to land a pike that shot up from the bottom like a missile to grab an unfortunate dace off the surface. Just like what happened on the Derwent a few days ago my size 16 widegape was somehow transferred into its jaw far enough away from any teeth and I spent the next five minutes resisting its attempts to get out into the flow and over to the far bank. Eventually got it up onto the surface and saw an opportunity to net it so gave it a bit more welly. Unfortunately at that moment the hooklink parted and I had to watch it slowly glide away to sulk at my feet in the lillies. 

Went back to getting a bite a cast without any further interruptions and before I knew it three hours had shot by.  Had lost count of how many fish I'd caught ages ago, but it was well over a hundred again with fifty percent being dace. Didn't really matter, the thing was that I'd a few hours to clear the head and just live in the moment. Consigned the remains of my sweaty maggots to the depths and packed up. Found that a barbel angler had moved into the swim upstream of me and had a quick chat but he'd only been there an hour and was yet to have a touch, which was surprising given the number of little chub that were about. Got a few days holiday in Wales next week before the main event in France later in the summer, so another chance to chase a silver bar tides permitting. Fingers crossed for another biggie!

19/07/2024 - Summer trotting part III (Summer madness)

Another spell of rain caused the local rivers to spike early in the week but after two days of warm, sunny weather (is it finally summer?) they were back to near normal again, so I went and got a pint of mixed from Stapleford Angling (open this time!) and headed off to the Derwent again. 

The temperature was nudging 30 degrees Centigrade when I arrived at the empty carpark and I contemplated just putting on my boots and wet wading, but pulled on the chest waders in the end, still clammy from last trip. Whilst there were no other anglers on the section, the sun had brought out the local youth and I could see a group of lads tombstoning off the high bank into the big slack upstream of the island. I've often had my eye on that spot for a perch or a pike, so I stopped and had a chat with them. One was obliging enough to stand on the bottom to show me how deep it was (up to his shoulders so a good five feet) and confirm it was a gravel bottom, whereas it was soft mud closer to the bank. 

Filed that away and left them to it. Carried on upstream, the vegetation either side of the path alive with banded demoiselles and various butterflies, including peacocks, meadow browns and large whites. Whilst at a decent level the river was still carrying some colour and looked quite brown in the sunlight but when I slipped into the river the clarity wasn't actually too bad. Swung out the stick float wondering if I'd get a first cast fish and a fat dace duly obliged halfway down the run. No that it continued that way as they appeared to be a bit finnicky as I subsequently missed bite after bite, some so fast and violent I felt them on the rod tip before I saw the float move, so after an hour I'd barely scraped into double figures. 

Thankfully things picked up in the second hour, either because I finally got my eye or in or they were becoming more confidant, and I added a few bleak, including an absolute monster that flipped out of my hand before I could get a picture of it, a couple of "wasps" and a roach to the species tally. At one point, stood in the water shielded by a willow next to me, I could hear voices approaching from upstream. Expecting to see a couple of kayakers I was surprised by a tattooed gentlemen on a blue lilo, closely followed by another chap in a kid's inflatable boat. They were polite enough and apologised for disturbing me, not that it seemed to make any difference as I added a couple more dace before they'd drifted out of sight. 

I'd got itchy feet by now anyway and soon followed them downstream to my next spot. Got the bank spike and rope out for this  one, lowering myself into the water through the Himalyan Balsam and disturbing a decent fish sitting right next to the bank that shot off leaving a cloud of silt in its wake. Passed another couple of hours nailing dace after dace, with the occasional roach and chub thrown in, one of the latter with a dot of blue dye between his pectorals denoting that he'd born and raised at the Environment Agency's Calverton fish farm and was a survivor of last year's stocking. Gave my self one last cast and was in the process of reeling in yet another dace when everything went solid. Realised that the fish I'd disturbed earlier had probably been a pike and that it had just helped itself to an easy meal. 

Gave it some welly with the Acolyte expecting the float to come pinging back at any moment. However, it looked as if my size 16 widegape had found a secure hold somewhere as I managed to prevent it from reaching the bushes on the far bank. After a few minutes of playing tug of war in mid-river I got it up onto the surface and into the slower water downstream of me and it looked as if I was going to win. Unfortunately after all that effort the pike had other ideas and with a last gasp dash into a clump of reeds the hooklink finally parted. Didn't bother re-tackling, but hauled myself with some effort back up the bank. Walked back to the car to find the local youths lined up on the footbridge, so waited as they all tomb-stoned off in turn. 

The intrepid river adventurers from earlier were also there having now pitched a tent and got through several tinnies between them by the looks of it. Left them all to it but had got a thirst on myself, so stopped off at the local Lidl where a 5 litre keg of Budweiser Budvar caught my eye. Less than £2 a pint for 5% Czech lager (not fake Euro fizz brewed in Burton Upon Trent) - what could go wrong?

10/07/2024 - Summer trotting part II (super session on the Soar)

Was hoping to fit another session in this week but was nearly thwarted by the changeable weather with more rain causing the local river levels to spike yet again. 

Checking the levels on .GOV.UK it looked as if the River Soar had fined down sufficiently to be fishable, so at 3 o'clock prompt I'd logged off and was out the door and off down to Kegworth. Parked up on the bridge, got togged up in the chest waders and made my way upstream. The club had strimmed out half a dozen pegs for the start of the season, but further on the bankside vegetation became progressively more and more overgrown. Even the gates at Kegworth deep lock looked more like the hanging gardens of Babylon. Crossing over onto the island I made my way through the shoulder high nettles and had to clamber over a big fallen willow to get to my favourite spot downstream of the weir. 

Lesson learned on the Derwent I had brought my spike and rope with me this time and I needed it to lower myself down the bank and into position amongst the lily pads. Also had a new rod and reel combo to try this time - a TFG centrepin bought for a snip off ebay and a 12 ft Abu Titan. The latter I'd found sorting out my late father's fishing tackle - never used and still with the shrink wrap on the handle, so thought I'd christen it in his memory. The river itself was still a bit higher than I would usually fish it, still carrying a tinge of colour and with rafts of foam coming down from the weir. A previous session under similar conditions had turned out to be a complete bleak fest, so I wasn't surprised when the first few casts resulted in several of the silvery little chaps. 

However, once a bit of loose feed went in the dace and chub started to show as well, including a couple that put a proper bend in the Titan. My new pin was also performing well, my light stick float easily pulling line off the pin without the need to dab the spool with my thumb to get it going, although I found that the line guard was right where I would normally bat the edge of the spool with my palm to retrieve the float. I also decided that I'd probably swap the smooth, machined aluminium handles for something more tactile, especially if I was using it in the winter, but on the whole I was really pleased with it. Got into a rythmn of loose feeding, trotting, unhooking and re-baiting.  

The latter was necessary on every cast irrespective of whether I hooked a fish or not as the maggot was inevitably crushed and reduced to a husk by the time the float reached the end of the swim. Added a few roach and a solitary gonk to the species tally. After three hours I'd had well over a hundred fish, fifty percent of those being bleak, and had emptied my bait apron of maggots. Twice during the session the lilies immediately in front of me had been parted by an unseen, big fish, presumably a pike. Not surprising given the number of prey fish about but which, like on the Derwent a couple of nights ago, made the lack of any perch a bit puzzling. Successfuly extricated myself from the river using the rope and headed home, an hour earlier than planned and well in time for the footie. Game on!

08/07/2024 - Summer trotting part I (out at last!)

Had a very busy June at work, firstly ensuring that we hit our Q1 targets and then planning ahead for Q2 - all so the managers would see little green boxes lined up on their spreadsheets and thereby avoiding the inevitable interrogation if, God forbid, they were amber or red instead. 

Therefore it was not until this week that I eventually got out with the float rod for the first time, but even then I had to wait for a break in the extremely changeable weather - warm, cold, wet, dry, windy, I think we've had the lot this month already. I also had to traipse halfway across town for some maggots, the local tackle shop inexplicably shut on a Monday and my second choice having recently closed down after 53 years in business. Still, the chap in Bridge Tackle in Long Eaton was pleased to see me, even more so when I asked for two pints rather than my usual one to save me a return trip later in the week. For my first river session of the year I decided to head to the River Derwent near Draycott for a few hours after work. 

Getting there about 4.30 pm I was surprised to find that there was nobody else in the car park, so didn't rush getting the waders on and had a slow walk upstream, flushing banded demoiselles out of the long grass next to the path and stopping here and there to peer over the bankside vegetation. The river is a different beast in the summer, gin clear with lots of exposed gravel and nice smooth glides, and I could see quite a few fish dimpling and bow-waving in the margins. Dropped into the water in my first spot and waded out to just above my knees before running the stick float down off the end of the Acolyte. Twenty metres down the swim and the bright orange tip disappeared and I was into my first fish - a nice plump dace. 

Had a few more, all fin-perfect and like peas in a pod, when the float disappeared once again and I found myself connected to something a bit more energetic. Was pleased to see that it was a darkly spotted little brownie, one of only a handful that I've had out of the river, but an indicator of good water quality. Added some more dace before picking up a few chublets and the odd bleak. As the evening wore on a few fat yellow mayflies started emerging from the river, prompting some splashy rises, presumably from the dace. However, any that survived were quickly mopped up by opportunistic winged predators in the shape of chaffinches and blackcaps darting out of the tree cover on the far bank. 

After a couple of hours the bites started to dry up, so I upped sticks and moved downstream to my next spot. The river had done some winter remodelling of the bank and I had to trust to luck and slide down through the Himalyan balsam on my backside. Once down in the water I was straight back into the dace and chub in equal numbers, with a couple of summer grayling thrown in. With about an hour of my allotted time left I decided to give one more swim a go. However, the folly of sliding down the bank was soom revealed as I couldn't get enough purchase to pull myself back up again. Therefore had to wade downstream until I found a suitable place to get out and even then it was a struggle. 

Lesson learned - will remember my bank spike and rope next time! When I got to my final spot I was disappointed to see another angler at the waters edge, but looking closer I could see that he was returning a very big barbel. Upon seeing me he shouted "15lbs"! From where I stood it certainly looked it and when he showed me his pictures a few minutes later there was absolutely no doubt - it was a tank! He'd just popped down for an hour or so and had been rolling a big piece of spam around when he thought he'd got snagged....until it moved and shot off downstream. Needless to say he looked a bit shell-shocked. Had a bit of a chat before he carried on upstream and I dropped in at the downstream end of the glide.

Not that I wanted to catch a barbel (I've hooked one on the Acolyte on two occasions now and neither ended well). Added a few more dace and chub, two more grayling and, coincidentally as the light started to fade, a couple of roach. However, the perch that are also normally resident in the swim failed to show. Nevertheless it had been a decent session with over sixty fish, the vast majority being dace. Was delayed on the way back to the car by another angler who popped out from under the footbridge as I crossed over the river. Not that I minded as I'm always up for exchanging notes and adding a bit more intel to the dossier. No football to rush home for either - hopefully Mr Southgate has sorted out his tactics for later in the week!