07/04/2026 - Change of plans

Popped down for a few days over Easter with the in-laws in Pembrokeshire so took enough tackle to cover a range of eventualities, but with the main target being my first bass of the year. 

However, whilst I knew that the tides were going to be less than ideal, I hadn't reckoned upon the added influence of Storm Dave. Saturday was grim as a result, but by Sunday morning the worst of the weather had blown through and I was down on the estuary at dawn, albeit still with a stiff breeze at my back. Only had about an hour and a half before high tide so planned to fish creature baits as the water came flooding across the mud, hoping to intercept a feeding bass. Worked a Megabass sleeper craw around the clumps of bladderwrack whilst keeping an eye out for any fish movement. However, by the time I'd been pushed back against the sea wall I'd not had a sniff. 

The water had become progressively murkier as the tide came in and a trip to Lawrenny Quay for lunch later in the day confirmed my worst fears. There were white horses being driven by the wind up the main estuary and the water was now the colour of mud due to the wave action on the shore. That knocked any further ideas of lure fishing on the head, so the following day I scratched around in the father-in-law's garden for some worms instead, having brought the ultra-lite gear as back up. Tuesday I was up early again and headed over towards Haverfordwest to my little, urban trout stream. Parked up in the layby on the bypass, got quickly togged up in the waders and then sneaked down the bank into the water when there was a suitable gap in the morning traffic - more to avoid bringing unwanted attention to "my spot". 

Flicked a worm on a 0.5 gram jig-head up to the head of the first run and let it drift back towards me. Was immediately met by un-hittable  jabs and rattles on the rod tip, the worm coming back mangled by tiny teeth. Eventually hooked one of the critters responsible, but it turned out to be a perfect little silver tourist rather than the expected brownie. Later confirmed as a salmon rather than a sea trout smolt by a friend who works for the Wild Trout Trust, I carefully popped him/her back to continue their perilous journey downstream and out into the Atlantic. Salmon stocks have declined in the catchment to the extent that National Resources Wales have categorised them as "depleted and at risk".

When I had two more in the next few casts I was therefore seriously contemplating cutting the session short to avoid unduly disturbing them. However, the next spot yielded my first wild brownie of the morning so I carried on upstream after that, picking the odd one off here and there from amongst the assorted urban debris. Had another surprise when I spotted some movement in the outflow from a sluice around an old dam. Upon closer investigation it turned out to be a small cluster of spawning brook lamprey. Several males mate with a single female, whose eggs are then deposited in a "nest" in the gravel. Job done the adults then die, leaving the eggs to hatch into larvae which stay buried in the substrate for several years before transforming into adult themselves and starting the cycle again.

Managed to get a reasonable photo just to get expert confirmation of the ID and then watched them fascinated for a good five minutes before carrying on. In the light of my morning's observations I was pleased to see that the pollution I'd reported last time had apparently been resolved, althought the occasional whiff from the nearby sewage treatment works served as an unwellcome reminder! By the time I reached the road bridge about 200 metres upstream I was down to my last worm. Used it to trick one final brownie and making it a "baker's dozen" before packing up. I often feel quite privileged that, as an angler, I get to see and experience nature much closer than most and this morning was no exception. 

As I walked back to the car I wondered how many of the people speeding past were even aware of this little gem of a stream so close to a busy road, but I suppose that's what makes it special.

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.

06/06/2025 - Briefly back down Bill's

Had a meeting with a new financial advisor down near Studley in Shakespeare country, so took the opportunity to use my Birmingham Anglers Association ticket that I've been hanging onto. 

Meeting went on longer than expected so, after popping in to get a much-needed doorstopper sandwich and a coffee at Bruno's Bakery (highly recommended) on the way, it was well after 3 o'clock when I pulled into the parking spot next to the river. Had brought a couple of rods with me - a 7 ft rod for trout spoons, spinners and small plugs and a 6 ft ultralite for jigs and small plastics. Got them both rigged up, pulled on the waders and made my way downstream to a couple of spots that I had fished on a previous visit back in 2021! Despite the recent rain the river was pretty low and clear and in the slower sections I could easily see the bottom, which looked pretty featureless and covered in fine silt, plus there were no signs of fish. 

Therefore concentrated on the faster water at the head of the pools where it was more oxygenated and hopefully where the bottom had been kept cleaner by the flow - I figured that if I was a trout that's where I would be. Started off with a tiny "Magbite"  2" soft plastic on a 0.5 g jighead on the ultralite rod, flicking it across to the far bank, letting it swing in the current and then hopping it back along the bottom after it had settled in the slack water. After a few casts, flicking it a bit further downstream each time, I had a thump on the rod tip and after a brief tussle bundled my first wild, Warwickshire spotty of the session into the net. Had a much better one a few casts later that really put a bend into the rod and briefly courted danger in the tree roots before I got it safely on the bank.

 

Wandered down to the next spot, briefly trying a small Mepps in a deeper section, but just picking up weed and brown goo if I let it drop too close to the bottom. At the head of the next pool I lost a good fish when the hook pulled and was just going to recast when half a dozen juvenile mallard appeared round the corner. As soon as they saw me they went bonkers - back pedalling furiously and thrashing the water with their wings. Thought that was the swim well and truly knacked, so left it to come back to and carried on. 

Picked up the odd brownie here and there, all on the soft plastic fished  in faster spots. Had also been getting a lot of nips and tugs that I assumed were small trout until I foul-hooked a fat minnow! Therefore changed the spinner for a suitably coloured trout spoon on the other rod, but the deeper water seemed to be devoid of fish. Still, it was great fun using the ultralite, which still had enough backbone to get the fish in quickly whilst enjoying the scrap. In fact the best spotty of the afternoon still had enough energy to unhook itself in the net and then do a backflip back into the river before I'd had a chance to properly admire it! Gave it until 6 o'clock as I was conscious that I had to get back up the motorway to Nottingham, plus I had a sick wife in bed that I'd promised a fish and chip supper to. 

Hopefully I'll be in need of some more financial advice and be back again soon.

28/05/2025 - Two venues and an unpleasant surprise

Decided that two days of standing up to my nads in freezing water whilst getting battered by the wind was probably enough, although there was the obvious benefit that I'd discovered a new, high water mark in the estuary, not only for the bass but also potentially for the mullet judging by the hundreds of lip scrapes in the exposed mud. 

Instead I decided to head over to Hakin point near Milford with the remnants of my salted rag and a bit of squid. Pulled up about 7 AM to find another angler already on the pier. Recognised him as a local chap called Graham that I'd previously met bass fishing, so went and had a chat. He was after the bass again and was using a very interesting rig with a home-made hook release system consisting of a rotten bottom clip, an elastic band and a Weeto - yes, the ring-shaped, chocolate breakfast cereal! Whilst there was a bit of colour and quite a lot of weed fragments in the water due to the wave action on the shore I decided to give it a go on the leeward side of the pier. Set up my usual two-hook, mini-flapper baited with a sliver of squid on the top hook and a piece of salted rag on the bottom. 

Dropped it down the side and felt for a clear patch with the lead. Started getting knocks straight away and it wasn't long before the rod tip properly bent over resulting in a female corkwing wrasse. Had a colourful male a couple of minutes later, after which it was just a procession of more corkies with a the odd, morose-looking shanny thrown in. Looked up at one stage to see Graham with his beachcaster well bent over, so paused to see what he'd got. 

Unfortunately, rather than the monster bass hewas after, it turned out to be a huge ball of seaweed with a small doggie in the middle of it! He took that as his cue to pack up, so took the opportunity to glean a bit more local information from him before he toddled off on his bike. I wasn't long after him as the ebbing tide had started pulling down the side of the pier and my braid was starting to look like a washing line, abeit covered in bits of weed. It was only 9 AM at this stage so after popping into Costa for a flat white and a bacon roll, I headed back towards Haverfordwest to "my" little, urban trout stream, having brought a few red worms scavenged from the in-laws' garden on the off chance. Swapped my two hook flapper for a 0.5 gram jig head, popped on the waders and scrambled down the bank to the first pool. 

Hidden down in the water and under the trees with just a dipper for company it was a world away from the busy road just a few yards away and I do wonder how many people even realise that it is here. Despite all the rain we'd had the day before the stream was low and clear and various bits of urban rubbish and detritus, including tyres, rebar, road signs and plastic could clearly be seen on the bottom. Flicked the worm-baited jig upstream and let it drift back towards me. Did this a couple of times before getting a positive rattle and after a spirited fight landed my first little wild Welsh brownie of the morning. Knacked the swim on the next cast by snagging up in aforementioned rubbish, so slogged downstream through the brambles and Himalyan balsam. 

Started working my way back upstream but was shocked when I came to the first riffle to find it covered in slimy, cotton wool-like growths of sewage fungus. Not actually a fungus, but colonies of naturally-occurring filamentous bacteria that thrive in the presence of organic material, smothering the substrate, displacing invertebrates and, in extreme cases, stripping oxygen from the water and killing fish. Carried on upstream to find several places where black, foul-smelling liquid was running down the far bank. Took a few pictures with the intention of reporting it when I got back home. Thankfully the brook was clear further upstream and I'd managed to land half a dozen more little brownies by the time I got back to the car, although I'd probably been mugged by as many again - the hook either coming back bare or the worm chopped up by tiny teeth. 

Got stuck in roadworks leaving Haverfordwest, but was on the phone to Natural Resources Wales as soon as I got throught the door. Was assured that my report would be passed to the local environment team for investigation. Hopefully the two prime candidates of a dairy and a sewage treatment works will be getting a visit soon! 

14/03/2025 - A mixed bag to finish

Last week was spent aimlessly messing about, although to be fair the weather was all over the place - cold, gusty wind, bright sunshine, squally showers, sleet and even hail. 

Had a couple of hours on Tuesday soaking some cheespaste on the River Soar for a couple of hours. However, missed my one, proper bite while I was taking arty photographs of the sunset through the trees on the far bank! Then had another short session on the Trent near Beeston on Wednesday to check that the grayling were still there and worth targetting. Managed to catch one small one that at least answered the first question but not the second, which still left me with the quandry of whether to renew my club book or not next year. 

Therefore thought I'd play it safe for the last day of the river season so I booked onto a club section of the River Dove up in the wilds of Staffordshire. The club only allows two anglers on at a time, but I've yet to share it with anybody else and wasn't expecting to this time either, even at the end of the season. Grayling were the target, although the quiver tip also went in the rod sling just in case an opportunity for a chub arose. Had a leisurely breakfast before chasing my own shadow westwards on the A50 towards Uttoxeter in bright sunshine. Caught a glimpse of the river as I dropped into the valley and, as I thought, the banks were empty. Parked up the van, made myself a quick cup of coffee and then headed across the field to the river. 

From the top of the bank I was a bit shocked to see how low it was, the bottom clearly visible all the way across to the far side. Could also see that the gravel was covered with a snotty, brown filamentous growth of spring diatoms. My confidence having taken an early hit I dropped into the river and got down to business. Second trot down the run the avon disappeared and I was into my first, albeit modest, grayling. Confidence immediately restored I carried on, although I had to work hard for the bites, running the float as far downstream as my crap eyesight would allow and periodically taking a couple of steps further across the river to change the line. Had had a few small grayling along with the odd, nuisance brownie when I struck into something bigger that hung out in the current. 

Following a dogged fight I had a cracking dark male grayling in the net that went 1lb 4oz onthe scales. Popped him back and watched him swim off in the clear water, his dorsal fin waving in the current like crimson pennant - one of the best sights in angling. After finally exploiting the width of the river I moved downstream to the next spot. Had a couple of small grayling and a couple of spotties before hooking another cracker, also bang on 1lb 4oz. Looking at my watch I found that 4 hours had flown by, so decided to break for lunch having had a dozen grayling and 9 trout. Whilst the fishing had been relatively slow I'd seen no end of bird life including, two pairs of feuding dippers reinforcing their territorial boundaries, ravens, buzzards, a kingfisher, tree creeper, grey wagtail and a female sparrowhawk that flew straight downstream just past my rod tip. Back at the van I made myself a sausage and bacon cob and another cup of coffee and thought about what to do with the rest of my day. 

Decided to drive a short way downstream to a different club section downstream of Rocester where I'd had some success in the past and would also be in with a chance of a chub. Fifteen minutes later I was amazed to pull into an empty car park - where was everybody? Not that I minded! Made the long walk over the rig and furrow to the first swim, disturbing a little egret and a pair of lapwings in the process. Clambered down the steep bank to a small platform at water level to find a little pile of remains where something had made a snack of a signal crayfish judging by the red claws. Another angler appeared appeared on the opposite bank at this point. Like me he was after grayling and chub, but hadn't had anything all day despite trying several spots, including the run I was just about to fish. 

Not encouraging news and after a biteless half an hour, I moved on. Had a small grayling from a spot I'd not tried previously - a short run at the tail of a deep pool - before moving on again, dumping the majority of my gear in a swim where I'd had a few chub in the past. Managed to find a few grayling in the next spot, catching half a dozen in quick succession but nothing of any size, so with an hour of daylight left I headed back to my chub swim and got the quiver tip rod out, initially casting a black cap feeder full of maggots out onto the crease. After 45 minutes I was about to change tactics when the tip pulled round resulting in a chub of about 3lb that gave a good account of itself in the current. With the light fading, I took off the feeder and replaced it with a link leger with a big lump of cheese paste on a size 6. However, as the sun set on another river season I failed to attract any further interest, so packed up and made the long trudge back to the van. 

Ended up being a reasonable day out, but on the whole it's not a winter season to write home about for me. Oh well, there's always the next one and there's plenty to do in the interim!

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!   

12/05/2024 - A new species and a new venue

Haven't a clue where April went but at least some planned trips in May promised a few fishing opportunities. The first of these was the regular lads' weekend in Saunton Sands in North Devon and whilst the tides weren't ideal I threw some bits and bobs of tackle in the car to try and cover a few different eventualities. 

Early Saturday morning saw me heading to Ilfracombe pier in search of some mini-species. I arrived as the sun was rising above the headland, bathing Verity in golden morning light. The flood tide had already breached the lower part of the pier, so I started fishing from the steps to the upper deck. I'd brought two rods with me and started by throwing out a small metal jig in the hope of a pollack or an early mackerel. Half an hour later and fishless I switched to the other rod and dropped a mini two hook flapper baited with bits of salted rag down the side of one of the wooden pilings. Had to wait a few minutes for my first proper bite, resulting in a scrappy little ballan wrasse. 

Added a small rock goby before I was pushed onto the upper deck. However, bites continued to be slow in coming and I was on the verge of giving up when the tip jagged over and I lifted into what I thought was a snag, but with a bit of pressure the culprit came free and was brought up to the surface with little resistance. Was stunned when I swung it to hand to see it was a topknot, a real prize in LRF circles. Fairly common, but rarely caught, they are a proper little ambush predator. Perfectly camouflaged they are able to cling to vertical surfaces and even upside down on overhanging rocks and on the inside of caves, waiting to suck in any passing small fish and crustaceans with their exendable mouths. Took a quick photo and popped him back into his lair, allowing myself a quick fist pump in celebration. Carried on for a bit longer but didn't catch anything else. Not that I really cared as that ugly, but wacky little fish had made my morning! 

Got back in time to join the others in our coustomary walk over to Georgeham for a drink at The Rock. When we got back there was still a couple of hours to kill before dinner, so I hopped into the car and headed into Braunton for a quick session after the prolific, wild brownies that frequent the River Caen thaat runs throught the town. Fishing with just a small worm on a size 14, 0.5 gram jighead I dropped in at the fish ladder and made my way slowly upstream, flicking the baited hook into any likely spots whilst trying to avoiding the various bits of urban "furniture" as I went. As usual I had plenty of interest from the off, mostly from tiny little trout that pursued and nipped at the worm as it drifted downstream, causing me to curse as I missed bite after bite. 

However, every so often one of their bigger brethren managed to get a look in and by the time allotted time was up I'd managed to land a dozen, colourful spotties. Would have liked to have stayed longer, but the day was roundly off nicely with a huge fish supper at Squires instead. No fishing the following morning. Instead we got the paddleboards out and paddled from Crow Point, up the estuary and then all the way up the tidal part of the Caen to Velator Quay. Unfortunately, when we turned round to go back we found that the breeze had strengthened significantly and we had to battle against a headwind for most of the return journey. Was therefore a bit knackered when we eventually got back to the chalet, so after lunch most of us retired to our beds for a nap! 

Weather took a turn for the worst on Monday, coming in wet and windy, so we didn't hang about and were soon packed up and on our way home. However, after dropping my friend off in Bridgwater I decided to go and have a look at Portishead Marina, which is only about ten minutes from junction 19 of the M5. The venue had cropped up in a few videos on YouTube and there was definitely potential for a couple of different species I'd not had before, such as grey gurnard. 

When I arrived it was still very grey and gloomy, but at least the rain had eased of, so I grabbed the dropshot rod and some salted rag and went for a wander. Was surprised to see that the water quality wasn't that bad seeing as the marina is fed directly by the muddy Bristol Channel. The crabbing platform at the deep end of the marina looked to be a popular spot in the vidoes but it was locked off, so I carried on walking round until I spotted a chap sat float fishing with bread for mullet. Had a quick chat (always after local knowledge!) and it seemed that there was potential for basically anything to swim through the lock gates from the Channel, including bass, pollack, flounders and even gilthead bream. 

Walked on a bit further, eventually stopping near the main slipway. Dropping my rig down the side of the wall I soon started to get little rattles on the rod tip and after a couple of minutes I had my first fish, a fat rock goby. Added a couple more before landing a male black goby with his extravagant, sail-like dorsal fin. After catching half a dozen of each I upped sticks and headed down to the shallow end. There were plenty of small fish about in the margins, possibly bass fry or sand smelt, but rather than try for them I opted to try the small, stone pier on the far side of the marina. However, I couldn't tempt anything else and I was getting a bit twitchy about being stuck on the motorway at rush hour, so headed back to the car. 

An interesting venue and one I would definitely try again, although preferably when the sun is shining! Exmouth next weekend so more mini-species potential, tides permitting.

01/04/2024 - Bank Holiday bits and bobs

Managed to get down to Pembrokeshire for Easter despite the weather throwing everything at us on the way down, including a hail storm near Merthyr. Had an inkling that something was about to happen when the low temperature alert starting pinging as we came over the highest point on the A465. 

Luckily for us the worst of the shower had already gone through, but half a mile down the road we came across the aftermath - banks of hailstones big as marbles in the gutters and a dozen vehicles, including an ambulance, strewn across the carriageway and up on the verge. Thankfully everybody was out their cars and seemed okay, so we inched our way through and cautiously carried on. Once down at the in-laws it seemed as if it hadn't stopped raining since the last time were there at Christmas. The local River Cleddau was the colour of a builder's brew and tonking through, so I left it a day for some of that extra freshwater to flush out the esturary before heading to Pembroke Dock on Saturday morning for high tide. 

Had a bit of salted rag with me, so started off by fishing small sections down the wall on my scaled down, two hook flapper. Second or third  cast I felt a bump as the rig dropped past the kelp, so changed the rag on the top hook for a small strip of squid. Did the trick as next drop down it was taken with a bang by a fat, hand-sized pollack that gave me a good scrap on the light gear. Had seven more of these, all on the squid, whereas the bait on the bottom failed to attract any attention. When the tide starting running along the wall I moved around the corner and had a rock goby, then a black goby in successive casts. However, I failed to buy another bite over the next half an hour and with the tidal flow increasing and making it hard to hold bottom I called it a day. 

Popped in to see Roddy for some fresh rag but found that he'd stopped doing live bait and was winding down and selling off his stock. Therefore headed up to the town to J & M's Tackle instead. With Anglers' Corner over in Milford recently shutting, this is the only local shop to sell live worm now - a bit of a sad state of affairs for the visiting angler. Back home the laddo asked if he could come with me next time, so the following morning we took a bit of a gamble and headed to Hakin on the opposite side of the estuary. 

I knew that the wind had changed direction and was blowing from the South-East. However, I hadn't bargained on it being so strong. When we got to Hakin Point there was a brave soul already there with two bait rods out. However, the pier was being battered not only by a stiff breeze sweeping down the Haven but also by the resulting wind chop, which had churned up the water in the bay. Therefore didn't take much of a decision to jump back in the car and make the 15 minute journey over the bridge to Pembroke Dock. Was still a bit breezy stood out on the ramp, so we tucked ourselves around the corner on the pontoon instead. Tactics were same as before, but with fresh rag on the hook this time. Thought perhaps this would have made a difference, but it was again very slow. 

After a couple of hours we'd only had a few pollack and gobies between us and were getting a bit cold, so we packed up and headed off for a much-needed coffee. I suppose it is still early in the year and the sea hasn't had long to warm up, but equally fellow bloggers on the south coast are already catching what you would consider "summer species", e..g mackerel, garfish and black bream! Anyway, I wasn't going to keep flogging a dead horse, so this morning I headed off to Haverfordwest with a tub of worms and a box of jig heads to try for some brownies. 

Once again it was a bit parky first thing and there was a dense mist shrouding the Cleddau Valley as I dropped onto the A40. Police cars were blocking off Freemans Way due to an accident, so I had to take a quick detour through the town before parking up at the bottom of the section. Whilst it had rained in the night resulting in a slight touch of colour the level had been unaffected, so I got togged up and slid down the bank. Flicking a worm up to the head of the pool I had a rattle straight away as it drfited back towards me and a couple of casts later I had my first fin-perect little brownie. Carried on in the same vein, missing far more than I hooked and landed, possibly because I had to tie on a larger jig to keep the worm down on the deck. The brook was also "hungrier" than usual as I kept snagging up on the urban debris littering the bottom. 

This inevitably resulted in a bent or blunted hook and a new jig, so at the end of the session I had a handfull of scrap and a very short leader! Had to keep an eye on the time as laddo wanted to use the car to meet a friend later, but after a couple of hours I'd had eleven little brownies and a proper little "silver tourist", presumably about to start her perilous journey down to the estuary and out to sea (the vast majority of sea trout are females, their male partners remaining behind as resident brown trout). With a bit of colour in the water it was difficult to see the bottom at times and I had been sliding about on the rocks even with my studded boots. Crossing the brook to get to a spot on the other side I was just thinking to myself "I could have really done with my wading staff" when I slipped and fell forwards, ending up on all fours in the water and cracking my shin in the process! 

Luckily my waders and my rod survived, but it had knocked the wind out of me and when the next cast ended up in yet another snag I called it a day. Headed home to find that the lad had cancelled his plans, scuppered by another closure on the A40 at St Clears and cancellation of all trains from Cardiff, which meant that his friend was now stuck in Swansea. Happy days!