Have never really been in a hurry to get down the rivers bang on June 16th, preferring to let the rush die down first. This season, when I haven't been up to my ears with work, it's either been too bleedin' hot or too windy for my liking. However, with the wife away for a few days I didn't really have an excuse not to get out - better than just moping around the house as I usually do!
I therefore popped down to the local tackle shop for a pint of "mixed" and headed down the River Derwent after work with the Acolyte and the 'pin. Despite some much-needed rain at the weekend the river had remained stubbornly low. Not quite down to bare bones, but there was quite a lot of gravel and ranunculus showing as I made my way upstream from the carpark. It was also quite windy (what a surprise!) and even better still it was blowing straight downstream, rather than from the opposite bank as hoped. After consigning yet another pair of "breathable" chest waders to the bin I was in a pair of cheapo rubber ones and after slogging along the bank for fifteen minutes it was a relief to get into the river and cool down a bit, although I could already feel the sweat running down my legs!
The river was so low that I had to wade about halfway across to find a reasonable depth to run the stickfloat down, which unfortunately took me beyond any shelter that the bankside trees had to offer from the frequent gusts. Undeterred I sent the float on it's way and after a few casts had my first fish of the 2025/26 river season under my belt - a decent dace. Added a few more, along with a couple of small chub, but the bites weren't very prolific at all.
After an hour I'd only had a dozen fish, so moved to the next spot downstream, trusting my memory and scrambling blind down the bank throught the rampant Himalayan balsam. Again waded across the river and ran the float down off the rod tip along the trees fringing the far bank. Added a few more dace and a roach, but was getting blown inside out, so moved again in search of a bit of shelter. The next spot was better in terms of lack of wind, but my single maggot hookbait was getting mullered by either fry or minnows and was being reduced to a skin by the time the float reached the end of the run so after just one bleak to add to the species tally I was on the move again.
Another angler was now in the barbel hole just upstream of the next run that I wanted to fish, so just checked with him how far he was casting down and whether he was happy me dropping in below him. Conscience clear I thrashed the water for another hour, just adding a few more dace. By this time the sun had disappeared behind the trees leaving me stood in shadow and, despite having pulled on a fleece, the gusts across my back had actually made me start to shiver. Decided enough was enough and headed home. Had been a bit of a struggle with only 36 fish over 3 hours. Float control had been an issue and I suppose I could have tried back-shotting, but really I want this wind to do one!
