29/09/2025 - Another bumper session, but still no big stripey

A sunny, warm, dry spring has contributed to this year being a "mast year", where trees and shrubs produce and abundance of fruit, seeds and nuts. Happening roughly every five years this strategy is known as "predator satiation" as there is far too much food for birds and mammals to consume, so some seeds inevitably escape to go on to grow into new saplings.

One crop particularly in abundance locally is sloes, the blackthorn bushes adorned with clumps of fat, purple fruits. Full of tannins and far too astringent to eat by themselves as they suck all the moisture out of your mouth (a good trick to play on your kids!), it only takes some cheap spirit, a bit of sugar and some patience to turn them into something delicious. After a quick walk around the block with a couple of plastic bags at the weekend we had more than enough to make a couple of batches of our favourite seasonal tipple - sloe gin. What's more, after a couple of months the gin will be decanted off to mature and a cheap bottle of red, a bit more sugar and a splash of brandy added to the marinated fruit to make sloe "port". 

At the risk of being predictable, another glut I was keen to make the most of was the fishing on the River Soar and a meeting down near Leicester gave me another opportunity to drop in at Kegworth on the way home. Had got the float and the perch paternoster rods with me again but I'd beefed up the latter, bringing my Greys Specialist with the 1.75 lb tip and replacing the fluorocarbon hooklink with a fine wire trace, both in response to the recent pike activity. There had been another car parked at the bridge but as I got close to the swim I spooked a little egret, so was confident that nobody had preceded me. Arriving at the vacant swim I was surprised to see that the rain over the weekend had made a difference this time.

The river was running much closer to more normal summer level and even had a hint of colour. There was also a lot more foam coming down from the weir, including the odd "iceberg" and a combination of extra flow, colour and foam usually means one thing - bleak! Wasn't disappointed as first trot down resulted in a slither of pearlescent silver that went straight on the paternoster rod and out on the crease. Quickly had several more, the float often skittering across the surface before it had even settled, so soon had half a dozen in the bucket. Bait sorted, I carried on enjoying the fishing, adding a few roach, dace and the odd chublet. Had set the paternoster rod up right next to me, so spotted the tip nodding and had the line out of the clip before the bite alarm sounded. 

Wound down to feel little resistance, so was expecting to see a greedy perch. Instead it was a perfect, tiny pike - predator in miniature. He wasn't even hooked, just grimly holding onto the bait, so carefully popped him back making sure there wasn't any of his larger brethren hanging about first. Carried on with the float rod, adding gudgeon, silver bream and a small perch to the species list. At one stage I caught some movement out the corner of my eye and glancing up I saw young fox picking his way along the end of the gardens on the opposite bank, possibly a descendent of the tame fox that used to live on the island and that was fed by the barge owners. Started getting into some better dace and was bringing one across the surface through the foam when the inevitable happened.

There was an eruption of water, a brief glimpse of a green, spotty flank and the fish on the end of my line was gone. It wasn't really surprising then when the the bite alarm went off a few minutes later and I picked up the paternoster rod to feel a decent weight on the end. Got him in a bit quicker with the Greys Specialist and although I'd taken the precautionary approach with the wire trace, found that he was hooked nicely in the scissors. Was therefore an easy job to pop the size 6 out and release him a few metres upstream out the way. Re-baited and deployed the paternoster out on the crease again, but the alarm stubbornly remained silent for the rest of the session, that big stripey eluding me once more. However, I'd had another enjoyable session and bagged up on the float rod again.

Packed up in the gloom and headed home, the surface of the river alive with dimpling fish. Don't know what I'm doing next, but I may have to tear myself away and try another venue.......or not!

09/09/2025 - Dink dink dace

Had a window of opportunity open up for me and with local the rivers having benefitted from a splash of rain I decided to head down to the River Soar again. 

Popped into Stapleford Angling for a pint of maggots and a quick chat before heading down the short distance down the motorway to Kegworth. River was gin clear and there were clumps of the dreaded, bright green, floating pennywort starting to take hold everywhere. Once up at the weir I could see that, despite the recent rain, the water level was even lower than my previous visit and the bed of lillies that I'd been standing in had already virtually died off. On the plus side I could see lots of small fish milling about.

Started off with the float rod but had to wade out a lot further in order to reach the main flow. However, after I'd settled and run the float down a few times it was obvious that the fish were up for a feed. Whilst the chub, dace and bleak were waiting out in the flow, if the float went offline and ended up in the slacker water the roach and small bream (possibly silver bream judging by the size of the eye relative to the head?) were there to take advantage. 

Carried on for about two hours, buidling up the swim and amassing over 60 fish before I decided a change of tactic was in order. Had a brief dabble with the feeder rod at the end of my last session that had me thinking that the better fish were hanging off the back of the swim and mopping up any loose feed that made it through to them. Had therefore come armed with a new weapon - the "dink-dink" rig. Made popular in the 1990s match scene and used to such good effect on rivers like the Trent it originally consisted of a block-end feeder running on a large loop with the hook tied directly to the "tail" of the figure of eight loop knot. Bob Roberts devotes a short chapter to the history of the dink-dink in his excellent book "The Mighty Trent". 

However, for a more contempary take on the method and the version of the rig that I was using on this occasion see Rikki Richard's YouTube video here. Baited up the size 16 widegape with a couple of maggots, filled the black-cap feeder and then lobbed it out to rest at the far end of my float swim. The rod had been in the rests for literally seconds when the rod tip started bouncing violently and I lifted into a small chub. Quickly added a couple more before some better dace took over. It is obviously a very effective method, but one that requires very little finesse or skill as there is no need to strike as the fish basically hooked themselves! In fact, trying to strike just results in missed fish. It's also very intensive as the feeder needs to be re-filled as soon as it is empty. Consequently, after adding a dozen dace along with a bonus perch, I found that I had quickly run out of maggots. 

With about half an hour of daylight left I therefore swapped the dink-dink for a perch paternoster rig, popped on a small roach that I'd retained from earlier and dropped it in the margins to my right. Whilst I'd spotted a decent perch last time out, this was more in hope than expectation as I'd not seen a single sign of any predators on this occasion despite the presence of large numbers of silver fish. True enough, as the darkness descended I wound the rod in and gave my un-touched bait his freedom back, packed up and headed home. With more rain forecast this week the rivers will hopefully get another much-needed refresh, so we'll see if we can fit in another session somewhere.