13/12/2024 - A mixed bag from the Dove

After constantly checking the weather and the river levels for what felt like weeks it finally looked as if I would have an opportunity to get out after some grayling. The "hump" caused by Storm Darragh was finally out of the way, the main rivers were fining down nicely and it even looked as if the wind was going to behave as well, albeit until the weekend! 

Friday therefore saw me heading south on the M1 and then west on the A50 into Staffordshire. Decided to head to a stretch of the River Dove near Uttoxeter in the hope that it was far enough up the catchment for the level to be somewhere near normal for winter. Got togged up in the empty carpark and made my way across the wet fields, my footprints being the first since the floods had subsided. The river had a nice green tinge to it and, whilst it was still a bit higher than I would have liked, looked perfectly fishable. As I settled into my first swim the first salvos of shotgun fire from the aptly named  "Big Shoot" shooting range echoed across the valley. It always amazes me how the local wildlife have obviously become accustomed to this daily onslaught on the senses.

The flock of geese and the pair of black swans in the field opposite seemed completely oblivious to it all. I had also seen a heron, a little egret and a pair of dippers happily going about their business and as I ran the float downstream for the first time I spotted a kingfisher flying straight towards me. As soon as he noticed me he veered off across to the other bank and as my eye followed him I saw a BIG barbel "head and tail" in mid-river, his erect dorsal fin making him look like a mini shark! However, that's not what I was there for, so I stuck it in the memory bank and carried on with the task in hand, catching my first grayling of the winter season. Surprisingly after half an hour I was yet to have a bite, so I upped sticks and carried on downstream to the next run.

Before I left I flicked a few bits of cheespaste down the near margin as it looked "chubby" and I had hedged my bets and had brought along my quiver tip rod in just in case there was an opportunity. Carried on in the next spot, but struggled for another half an hour before the float finally disappeared resulting in a tiny grayling that did well to get the double maggot into its little gob! Carried on with renewed enthusiasm for a bit longer but to be honest I was struggling to see the float any distance down the swim due to the combined effects of the gloom and the ripple, so was soon on the move again. Next spot was equally dire and it continued in this vein all the way down to the bottom of the section.

With hindsight there was possibly just a little too much water on and it was a bit "boily" to fish the float comfortably, so I slogged it all the way back upstream to the spot I'd primed with my cheespaste. Swung a big lump of paste out onto the crease and had a sit down with a cup of coffee while I decided what to do. A couple of minutes later there was a tap on the rod tip, followed by a confident pull round. The culprit was a fat Dove chub a sliver under 4lb that gave me a good scrap in the current. Popped him back and had a recast, but I was getty itchy feet so quickly packed up and headed back to the car. I'd persuaded myself to go to another section upstream of where the River Churnet joined the Dove in the hope that conditions up there would be better. 

Got there about 2 o'clock knowing I only had a couple of hours to rescue the day, so quickly had another coffee and a bite to eat and then headed to my favourite spot. However, on the way upstream I met another angler with a fly rod who turned out to be the bailiff, so spent 10 precious minutes chatting before we parted ways. Dropped into the river, sent the float down the run preceded by a few maggots and was into a fish before he was out of earshot! Soon had my first decent grayling of the winter in the net. Bumped the next one, had another and then annoyingly bumped the next three fish as well. No issue with the hook, so changed from double to single maggot and didn't have a problem after that. 

After a few more grayling the trout inevitably put in an appearance and I'd had half a dozen out of season brownies when I struck into something a bit bigger that took me all over the river. The bailiff had mentioned that there might be a few salmon in the river at the moment, but when I eventually caught sight of it I could see it was another brown trout. Eventually got him in the net and was amazed by the nature of his markings and how he was almost orange across the back - I'd never seen anything like it. The bailiff came back at this point and was equally flummoxed. I thought I'd caught some kind of hybrid, but a call to my friend Tim from the Wild Trout Trust later revealed that it was just a stockie, the irregular patterned markings and lack of any red spots being the giveaway. 

Carried on until I could no longer see the float down the run, by which time I'd had 13 grayling to just over a pound and 7 trout. Was kicking myself a bit that I'd not come here first having struggled for four hours further downstream However, it's always easier to know these things with hindsight!   

11/12/2024 - Back to the brook

It's becoming a tradition that my first proper grayling trip of the year is on my birthday. Unfortunately, Storm Darragh well and truly put paid to any plans I might have had this year.

However, with a spell of dry weather forecast and with the wind dropping off as well it didn't look as if it would be too long before I'd be able to pursue my favourite species. In the meantime, fed up with Teams meetings and office politics, I found myself yearning for a spot of fresh air, so wrapped up things early and shot over to the brook for a short session into dark. All the gear was still in the car from last time, so there was nothing to get ready. Got togged up and took the less scenic route and slogged along the road rather than slipping and sliding across the fields, so I was bankside in ten minutes, not twenty. Walked downstream from the footbridge priming a few spots with a couple of pea-sized bits of vintage cheese paste. 

I'd decided to travel a bit lighter and leave my chair in the car, but my knees started to make me regret that decision almost immediately after I snuck into the first swim! Happily I didn't have to wait long for the first bite. In fact I was focussing on putting the rod on the rest when I felt rather than saw a sharp tap and instinctively struck. Felt a fish for a split second before it was off, the hook coming back stripped of its cheesy goodness. Quickly re-baited and cast into the same spot hoping that I'd not spooked everything. A couple of minutes later the rod tip tapped again, the strike was succesful and a little chub came splashing to the net. Didn't think I'd get a third chance, so moved onto the next swim. Again, the response was almost immediate, quickly resulting in a second chub. 

Was convinced that he'd have a mate down there with him, so left him in the landing net before making another cast into the same spot. A couple of minutes later his slightly large brother duly obliged and briefly joined him in the net before they both went back to their watery home. Moved on to the next spot and yet again the bait had hardly settled before the tip tapped once and bent round resulting in another chublet. Whilst the biggest fish had barely scraped the pound mark I was really enjoying myself - it was textbook chub fishing in miniature. However, that was curtailed in the next swim! After fumbling a strike when the rod butt got stuck in the long grass I tried a bit too hard with the re-cast and flicked the line over the branch of a hawthorn bush. 

Tried to extricate the rig but just made it worse and had to snap the line, pull the branch in with the landing net and then untangle everything by hand. By now it was pretty gloomy and having forgotten the head torch again I decided not to struggle tying a new rig. Headed back to the car instead, foregoing the last two swims, although I had to retrace my steps after walking about 100 metres without the top section of my rod! Hopefully the weather will behave now and there'll be a few grayling to report next time.

28/11/2024 - Small brook smash and grab

Had another quick go on the Embankment after work for the perch, but decided to try a different spot upstream near the tram bridge. Conditions looked good. The river had dropped slightly and it was mild and overcast. 

Unfortunately, I kept finding snags and after losing several hooks and a feeder and with about half an hour of daylight left I went for broke and headed back to the spot where I caught the 2 lber last trip. However, there was no repeat and I sloped back home without attracting a single bite. Cue bedlam on the weather front. Had to wait until this week for another opportunity to go out anywhere, although things hadn't quite yet settled down after Storm Bert. With the main rivers still too high I therefore had a look at some of the smaller waters on my club books. As it happened I was up in Ripley for a meeting on the Thursday and there was a brook near Derby that fitted the bill and was on the way home to boot. 

I'd fished it only once before in the past, but had managed to catch a couple of chub, so I retrieved a ball of 3 year old cheese paste from the the  freezer and stuck my new light quiver tip rod, bought a couple of seasons ago for this very purpose but as yet untested, and a few bits in the car. Got away from work as soon as I could, but it was after 3 o'clock when I stuck my head over the roadbridge halfway down the section to find the brook carrying a bit of colour but running at a nice level. Went and parked up and then spent 20 minutes slipping and sliding across muddy fields to the bankside. Primed a spot near the footbridge with a few small pieces of paste before carrying on downstream. 

Found the spot where I'd had a couple of fish previously and again threw in a couple of free offerings. Tackle was very simple, a fixed paternoster with a couple of swan shot nipped on the lead link, a 6lb fluorocarbon hooklink to a size 8 widegape with a small Korum paste cage attached with a knotless knot. Moulded a lump of paste around the cage, added a blob of Sonubaits cheesy garlic lava for added attraction and swung it underhand to settle on the crease between the fast and slow water. Reckoned I only had about an hour's fishing before it was too dark to see anything, so was pleased when after just a few minutes there were a couple of taps on the quiver tip followed by a confident pull round. 

Struck into a fish that splashed about on the surface making me think I'd hooked a trout until a small chub rolled into the net. Popped him back, re-baited and swung the lump of paste back on the same spot as I was convinced there would be more than the one fish in there. However, a precious fifteen minutes passed without another bite, so I moved slighty downstream to cover a bit more water.  Put a bait in a new spot close to the base of a tree and only had to wait a couple of minutes after it settled before the tip pulled round resulting in another, slightly larger, chub. Had a recast but another ten minutes passed without a bite and with the light rapidly fading I headed to the swim that I primed upstream. 

Couldn't see much in the gloom so just plopped a bait into the middle of the pool and hoped for the best. The temperature was also dropping rapidly under the clear sky. However, the bite came almost instantly and another small chub came protesting to the net. Got my mainline wrapped around the back of the spool of the reel in the process and by the time I'd sorted this out using the light on my mobile phone it was pitch black, so I packed up and made my was back across the fields and to the car. Had only been fishing for about an hour and, whilst the fish were small, it had been good to get a few bites and christen a new rod. Certainly somewhere to go back again when the main rivers are out of sorts and when I've got more time.