10/03/2026 - Last chance saloon

Well the February water situation report for the Midlands wasn't really a surprise, all river catchments receiving well above normal rainfall during the month, with the Lower Trent and Soar catchments getting a whopping 254% and 272% of their long-term averages respectively. Drought, what drought?!

Thankfully we've had some respite for the start of March giving the rivers chance to finally fine down to reasonable levels, although I've not really had much success when I have been able to get out, apart from the one decent session up on the Dove. Today was just about grabbing a couple of hours on the Derwent with the float rod and remains of the maggots, possibly my last opportunity due to work and family commitments over the rest of the week. Headed to Draycott late afternoon to find it overcast and with a stiff, cold breeze blowing, so walked upstream to the wood where I could find some shelter in the trees. Passed a chap who was in the process of packing up and stopped for a quick chat to see how he'd got on. 

Said he'd been there all day, fishing big baits for chub in various swims but had also tried maggot feeder in some of the runs hoping to pick up a grayling. However, he'd not had a single fish, which was not very promising to say the least! Carried on a bit further upstream and dropped into the first swim but, rather than get into the river straight away, I decided to send the float down the inside to see if there was anything tucked in close to the bank. Halfway down the run it promptly disappeared resulting in a first cast fish - a small grayling. Had two more in the next three casts and thought I was onto a winner. However, the bites dried up and I eventually slid into the river to cover some different water. Worked the run hard for another half an hour but surprisingly didn't get another sniff, so upped sticks and headed back downstream. 

Stopped and had a look at a spot that is usually good for a few dace in the summer. There was a nice crease coming off a bush on the nearside so I gave the float a few runs through. Quickly had three more grayling out of there including a decent male, albeit with a bit of bird damage, before it again seemed to go quiet. Drew a blank in the next swim by the pipe bridge so moved downstream of the island, usually a reliable spot. However, the winter floods had moved the gravel about and had changed the nature of the bottom, so it felt unfamiliar and just a bit too pacey and turbulent to be holding fish. Had a few trots down but soon lost confidence as I kept snagging up so walked across the bottom field to what was going to be my last spot on the sand bar. 

As I did so the waterlogged soil released an unpleasant, "rotten" odour - testament to just how long it had been under water and starved of oxygen.  Off the bar the current was much more even and gentle, the only problem being that the wind was gusting straight upstream and making it difficult to keep track of the float in the resulting ripple. Perservered for a bit, eventually adding another grayling to the tally before deciding that I'd had enough and headed back to the car, crows and jackdaws flying noisily overhead to their roosts. 

As I said, can't see myself getting out again now, although it looks like the weather is going to have the last say anyway with strong winds and rain forecast for the end of the week, so another season fizzles out. Didn't get to do half the things I'd planned to do over the winter due to the atrocious weather, but not going to dwell on it.Time to have a bit of a rest and a reset...

08/03/2026 - An unfortunate feeling of deja vu

Despite the loss of that trout I felt quite bouyed up by my last session, so when the weekend came around I decided to do some prospecting rather than play safe. Had rejoined a local club after a hiatus of fourteen years to gain access to some more sections of the Derwent. At that time grayling were pretty rare downstream of Derby and I had concentrated on the perch, catching multiple fish over two pounds up to a best of 3lb 3oz, but with them now widespread in the lower river I was keen to try some new spots. 

However, on this occasion I decided to try a section just to the north of the city centre that was meant to have a track record of producing grayling in numbers. Set off nice and early along the A52 but ran into my first issue when I got there. The code for the combination lock on the gate wouldn't work and after several phone calls and WhatsApp messages I finally got through to somebody from the club who told me that they were in dispute with the landowner over access and that he had replaced their padlock (none of which had been on their website). They did direct me to an alternative access but by the time I eventually got on the bank I'd already wasted an hour. Started walking downstream until I came to a nice run that screamed fish. 

Began running the float down the inside, moving progressively further out into the river. However, after 30 minutes I'd not had a sniff. Had one last trot down before stopping the float at the end of the run but when I lifted the rod I found that I'd got a fish on! Must have taken the double maggot as they lifted in the current. Gave a good account of itself all the way back, but unfortunately turned out to be an out of season spotty rather than a grayling. Carried on for a bit more, but was soon on my way again. Downstream the river was quite uniform and with tree-lined banks, so I didn't stop until I came to a big, open horseshoe bend at the bottom of the section. Again, it absolutely screamed fish with a clean gravel bottom sloping away to where the main flow raced along the far bank but with a nice, steadier current on the inside. Started working my way slowly downstream and had got over halfway around the bend before the float eventually disappeared. 

Struck and thought I'd snagged bottom before I felt a couple of heavy head shakes and the Acolyte hooped round. Was clear that I was attached to big fish as it did absolutely nothing except use its weight, forcing me to slowly draw it upstream against the current, before turning and powering off and easily taking back what I'd just gained. This went on for at least ten minutes before I finally caught sight of the float. However, the fish decided to really wake up and had me frantically wading after it as it shot downstream. Caught up with it again and saw a chance of getting into some slacker water on the inside, so changed the angle of the rod to try and make it kite into the near bank. Just as it started to move in the right direction...the hook pulled out. Needless to say, I turned the air blue! Unlike the fish I lost last session where I didn't really have any control from the start, I'd lost this one just through being impatient. Took a few minutes to calm down before resuming. 

About ten minutes later I repeated the trick of lifting the rod at the end of the run to find myself connected to another fish. Turned out to be another brownie that looked like it had a recent and lucky escape from the Black Death. Fished on for another half an hour but didn't have anything else after this and, having promised the wife I'd take her out to lunch, I packed up still kicking myself. Whilst I hadn't seen that lost fish I was pretty sure it was another big trout. However, it was the complete absence of any grayling that was a bit perplexing. On the way back to the car I did pass a small commercial fishing pond by the side of the river. The fact that it was criss-crossed with wires and tape perhaps told it's own story. Went home with thoughts of returning in a couple of weeks time with the fly rod and chucking around some big streamers...

05/03/2026 - A decent session at last (with a twist)

I've probably said before that grayling are my favourite fish and normally the majority of my time over the winter is spent in their pursuit. I would argue that there isn't a prettier freshwater fish in the UK, with their slender, tapered silver bodies turning to pewter as they get older and bigger, the unique pattern of lines of spots, the delicately striped fins with shades of purple and violet, the large, tear drop-shaped eye and, of course, the crimson and orange, sail-like dorsal fin of the males. 

Having only managed just a couple of short sessions so far this season due to all the rain we've been having I was suffering from withdrawal symptoms and in need of a fix.

 

With the rivers eventually starting to fine down to a fishable level I therefore loaded up the car nice and early and headed west on the A50 into Staffordshire, the rising sun a red disc in the rearview mirror. 

Ahead of me the Dove valley was shrouded in mist and at one stage the temperature dipped to 1 degree Centigrade! However, when I reached my destination the sun was starting to burn through the gloom and it promised to be a fantastic day. The river looked in good nick as well, with the gravels clearly visible off the bridge. Squeezed into the chest waders and made my way upstream to the first swim. The club only has a short section of river here and there are only really a couple of spots suitable for trotting in the winter, but having never seen another club member there I fully expected to have it to myself anyway. Therefore sat for a bit trickling in a few maggots whilst waiting for the sun to climb a bit higher before sliding down the bank into the river. 

Sent two maggots on a size 16 Kamasan widegape on their way under the Avon hoping for a first cast fish. A modest grayling duly obliged and I was off the mark, in fact the next six trots down all produced a fish, including a couple of handsome but out of season brownies. 

Things calmed down a bit after that and I got into a rythhm of trotting and loosefeeding. By 10 o'clock I was bathed in full sunshine and felt like the proverbial pig in shit, not only enjoying the fishing but just being out in the wilds enjoying the surroundings with a dipper and a grey wagtail to keep me company.

When the bites eventually died away to nothing I moved down to the other swim and started again. Fished that spot out and then went back to the car for some much-needed scram, having had 28 grayling, including a cracking male of 1lb 6oz, and 12 nuisance brownies. By now it was 2 o'clock and I had a decision to make - try the swims again having given them a rest or go somewhere else. In the end I opted for the latter and headed further downstream to Tutbury. In hindsight I should have stayed where I was because I struggled to find any fish and was only able to add another three grayling to the tally, although one of these was another nice male. Did have a bit of excitement in my final swim. Had just bumped a fish and decided to have one last cast before packing up. When the float disappeared at the end of the run I struck and nearly had the rod pulled out of my hands as a massive trout jumped about three feet in the air before hitting the water like a brick! 

By some miracle I still found myself attached and hanging on for grim death as it shot downstream. However, no sooner had the thought "I'll be lucky to land this" flashed across my mind the fish suddenly turned upstream and started swimming towards me faster than I could get line back on the centrepin. When I managed to take up the slack I found everything had gone solid mid-river, the line possibly caught around some debris on the bottom. Tried everything to try and get it free but suspected that the fish was long gone anyway and had to pull for a break. Oh well, another one to add to the list of tales of "the one that got away" to bore the wife and kids witless. Despite having had a fantastic morning I was feeling a bit deflated when I got to back to the car. 

However, that didn't last long as I was treated to a fantastic starling murmuration over the coffee factory at Hatton and a stop at the chippie rounded off the day nicely. Hopefully be out again at the weekend.

03/03/2026 - Scant reward

Well, we have certainly had some exceptional rainfall here in the Midlands this winter. The period from November to January has been the wettest since records began, with the long-term average (LTA) rainfall exceeded in every catchment across the region. Locally, the Derwent, Dove and Lower Trent catchments received 155%, 144% and 185% of their LTA respectively. 

Falling on fully saturated soils it only had one place to go! The full Water Situation Report for the Midlands for January can be found here. It'll be interesting to see the February report as there has been no let up since and again I've been scratching around for opportunities. Went out for a quick session last week after the rain had held off all day only for it to start pissing down when I was half way along the A52, so turned back at the earliest opportunity. It also put the mockers on any chance of a session at the weekend, the Trent at Beeston yet again an angry, brown torrent. 

It was therefore a relief to see some dry conditions this week, giving the rivers a chance to fine down and me the prospect of cramming some sessions in before the end of the season. In the interim I decided to head out after work to the little brook again. To supplement my dwindling supply of cheespaste I popped into Stapleford Angling for a few dendras and then headed off to Derby. Turned out to be a pleasant afternoon and the wildlife was certainly out enjoying it as well.There was a pair buzzards mewing overhead as I got togged up and as I walked down the field I startled a pair of brown hares that shot off at such a speed that they would have left Usain Bolt dead in his starting blocks. Last but not least I spotted a female sparrowhawk gliding along the hedgeline before it expertly threaded itself through the trees.

The brook had a bit of a brown tinge to it, but was running at a nice level, so flicked some bits of broken worm into a few spots as I walked downstream. Again there was no evidence that anybody had strayed from the public footpath and the onlly prints I saw belonged to a badger and a muntjack. Settled into the first spot, crushing and releasing the scent of wild garlic from the new shoots pushing up thorugh the soil. Threaded three dendras on the hook and swung it out onto the crease. With hindsight worms probably weren't a good idea given the minnow population and I soon got fed up of the tip going back and forth like a fiddler's elbow as the little buggers reduced my bait to pulp. I was therefore soon in the bridge pool with a decent lump of cheesepaste on instead. 

Had to wait until it was nearly dark for my first bite and I found myself hanging on as a decent fish headed for the overhanging brambles on the far bank. Unfortunately I wasn't quick enough because after a couple of big headshakes everything when sickeningly solid. Gave it some slack to see if it would swim out again, but when I tightened up I could see my line disappearing deeper into the vegetation. Gave it a heave and felt something start to move, saw a brief flash of a deep, brassy flank...and then the hook pinged out! Thought the swim would be knackered after that but still had half an hour, so rebaited and plopped another lump of paste into the hole. Was surprised when the tip knocked again a few minutes later. However, this time my strike met with token resistance and I skull-dragged a small chub straight into the net. Oh well, not a blank. 

Decided to call it a day at that point and packed up as v-formations of Canada geese flew noisily overhead back to their roosts after spending all day at the local golf club eating grass and crapping all over the fairways. It's grayling or bust later in the week as I'll be having a day off and heading up to Staffordshire. Fingers crossed!