26/02/2021 - Staying local

Bozza's published his eagerly-awaited "roadmap" now, so there's light at the end of the tunnel for us all. At the risk of putting the mockers on it, we can possibly even contemplate organising a much-needed holiday at some point (I've been missing the sea!). However, for now the message is that we still stay local and that will certainly apply to my fishing for the rest of the river season. 

Therefore skimmed the casters off the top of my week-old maggots to give to the birds and found that I'd still got the best part of a pint left, so decided to go back to the Derwent again. Had to scrape ice off the windscreen first thing, but when I arrived to find an empty carpark (bliss!) it was already bright and sunny and promised to be a fantastic morning. Opened the car door to the sound of a skylark doing his vertical mating dance and the smell of freshly-applied cow shit, the farmer having taken advantage of the frost to get on the fields.Turned left at the end of the footbridge this time and walked downstream a short distance to the cattle drink swim, knowing that as the sun moved round it would be shining straight upstream and into my eyes if I left it any later. 

The river was still up slightly, but had been at a steady level for a couple of days and looked pretty decent. Waded out to mid-shin and was soon tripping a double maggot over the gravel at the bottom of the shelf. Didn't have to wait long for the float to bury and the first grayling come to the net, fighting all the way in the clear water.

Had to work hard for an hour for half a dozen more, all similar in size, before I decided to move. Flushed a kingfisher in front of me as I walked upstream, so he must have been glad when I eventually dropped into the swim where I'd had a few last time out. Ran the float down into the same general area as before. However, after half an hour I'd not had a bite, so I was on the move once again, but again drew a blank in the next couple of spots. 

Eventually had a couple at the pipe bridge, but rather frustratingly I bumped off what felt like two good fish in consecutive casts - the rod arcing round with the strike as the float disappeared in virtually the same spot both times, followed by a couple of big head thumps and then they were gone. 

Carried on searching away in various swims, but could only manage one or two small grayling in each. Once again I failed them in any numbers, with the bigger ones also eluding me on this occasion. Had managed to put a dozen in the net before I ended up back at the footbridge and it was time to head back home for lunch and then unfortunately work in the afternoon. Left scratching my head thinking where all the fish could be holed up, particularly as I'd caught all manner of species on the float before Christmas. 

No parakeets this time on the way back to the car, but heard a bird of prey calling and spotted a peregrine flying low over the trees before it caught a thermal and then spiralled away out of sight. Hopefully be out again soon with this settled, mild weather continuing for a bit, but perhaps a change of species is now in order.

15/02/2021 - Out fishing at last!!

Really have to struggle to remember the last time I went a whole month without fishing. Had planned to have a few trips in between Christmas and New Year, but that went out the window when I did my back in on Christmas Eve. I've had a weakness in my lower back ever since I put it out lifting sugar beet by hand whilst doing crop trials as a student with the Ministry of Agriculture. Whilst I try to be careful, there are occasions when just minor, random movements are enough to leave me contorted and hobbling for days - luckily a good physio lives down at the end of our road! 

By the time I was on the mend, Bozza had announced another lockdown, although some effective lobbying by the Angling Trust meant that us lucky anglers were allowed to continue to pursue our hobby, albeit "locally". However, I didn't really have time to wrestle with my conscience about what this actually meant as the weather decided to put the boot in, firstly an "exceptionally wet" January with both the Soar and Lower Trent catchments receiving more than 200% of the long term average rainfall and then a freezing start to February. When the forecast signalled a return to more normal temperatures I therefore decided on a trip to my local River Derwent - within justifiable distance should I be stopped by the overly zealous local plod and with a decent head of grayling to go at. The only spanner in the works was the risk that the rising temperatures would result in snow melt affecting the river. 

The river up until this point had been dropping steadily day-by-day, but when I checked the levels again before heading out in the morning I saw that it had indeed risen a few centimetres overnight. Undaunted I was soon river side and a quick check out of the car window before committing to unlocking the gate to the club car park confirmed the river was at a fishable level and carrying just a tinge of colour. The temperature upon arrival was 5 degrees Centigrade, so it felt positively warm compared to the previous week. 

Walking upstream to my starting point I scared off a couple of goosanders, so took that as as sign there were some fish about. The lack of any footprints other than my own also showed that I was the first person to visit since the floods had subsided. However, in truth the river was a bit higher than when I'd fished it before, so many of the usual spots were out, being too fast or "boily" for the fish to be sat out in comfortably. I was also expecting them to be shoaled up, so it would be a question of fishing the quieter spots in order to find them. As it turned out I dropped onto a little group straight away, running the float down the side in what would normally be just a few inches of water. Had eight small grayling in quick succession out of an area the size of my dining table - all like peas in a pod - before hooking and landing a much better specimen of just over a pound that gave me a good scrap in the current. 

Possibly spooked the remaining fish in the shoal with that one as I didn't have another sniff, so moved downstream. Tried a few more likely-looking spots, but failed to find the fish again in numbers, just taking one or two individuals out of each. By the time I had reached the footbridge back to the carpark I'd made every bite count and had a baker's dozen of grayling, including three over the pound mark. Decided to finish there for lunch as the strengthening wind was making things tricky and returned to the car, spotting my first ring-necked parakeet on the way (apparently now established in a few spots around Derby). Pulling out of the carpark the thermometer was now registering a balmy 13 degrees Centigrade! Back at home I checked the river levels again and saw that it had continued to rise while I'd been there. Was therefore happy with the result, particularly as I'm now looking the weather forecast and thinking that the rest of my week off will be spent decorating rather than fishing!

08/02/2021 - The River Mease re-visited (another COVID-19 special)

I suppose it was in the early ‘90s that I first started thinking of myself as a “specimen” angler, having become an avid reader of authors such as Phil Smith, Tony Miles and Peter Stone.  However, my first proper “big fish” campaign wasn't on the River Ouse or a big Midlands gravel pit, but on the tiny River Mease on the Leicestershire/Staffordshire border. I’d just started work as an Assistant Biologist with the National Rivers Authority, based at Fradley near Lichfield. At the time my commute back home to Nottingham saw me cutting across country from the A38 to the M42 through the numerous villages along the Mease valley. One late summer’s day, just out of curiosity, I happened to stop and stick my head over a bridge and instantly spotted a massive (well, to me anyway!) chub drifting through the cabbages. A sign nailed to a tree indicated that day tickets for the stretch were available from the local pub, so I had a venue and a target! The first few trips in daylight that Autumn resulted in very little, so I decided to change tactics and fish into dark, thinking that the fish would be more confident. 

This was a perfect arrangement as it turned out – I was able to finish work and then drive to the venue to bait up a few swims before starting to fish as the light faded. Tackle and tactics were nothing fancy. A cheap Shakespeare quiver tip rod coupled with a Mitchell reel (bought second-hand off my friend Dai Gribble – not quite as well-known as he is now, but already a very experienced angler), which was loaded with 6lb Maxima. 

At the business end, a simple link leger and a size 6 hook to accommodate a big lump of garlic sausage. At the start of each session a few freebies were flicked into suitably chubby-looking spots, which were then fished in rotation. With no isotopes or head torch, bite detection was achieved by keeping the rod high and propping up a torch at an angle on the ground to illuminate the white quiver tip.

Fishing after dark with big baits did the trick as straight away I had a string of 3 - 4 lb chub. My notebook started to fill with information, including details of the best swims that, in budding specimen-hunter style, were given names including “the cattle drink”, “the willows” and “the straight”. With hindsight, I was a bit overly keen to share my early success and I invited my friend Tim to join me for a session, only for both of us to blank on a cold, wet night with the river carrying extra water. 

However, a few days later, Tim gave me the news that he’d been back and, you’ve guessed it, had caught exactly what I was after – a fish over 5lbs! On one hand I was absolutely livid having done all the legwork (I didn’t talk to him for days!), but on the other hand this was confirmation that bigger fish were there.

That Christmas I saved my pennies and treated myself to a Tony Miles “Quiver Supreme” from Scottie Rods and the following February I resumed my campaign with renewed enthusiasm. By the end of March I’d had two fish over the magical barrier and several back-up 4lbers, all but one coming after dark on a big lump of good old garlic sausage. Needless to say I was back the following autumn and things got even better in the shape of a chub of 5lb 15oz – a fish that is still my PB! 

That capture is still particularly memorable as I’d arrived to find a chap and his son, who was sat in a swim that I was intending to pre-bait, already fishing. After a quick chat and some subtle intelligence gathering I therefore headed further upstream. Much later, after catching just a couple of small fish, I wandered back downstream in the dark to find that they’d gone.

I was in two minds about fishing the spot where the lad had been sat but, as it usually produced, decided to drop a bait in for a bit anyway. Turned out to be one of my better decisions as a few minutes later I was looking at a mint, deep bodied, monster of a chub in my landing net. Just an ounce shy of the 6lb barrier it coughed up a load of red maggots undoubtedly provided by the previous occupant of the swim but, luckily for me, it had obviously fancied a more substantial main course! 

Two more 5lbers followed before the end of the year. However, my association with the River Mease ended abruptly after the section was taken over by a small club from Birmingham.

Whilst they were happy for me to join our relationship went South after I turned up to find the banks cleared, tree branches removed, the banks dug out for seat boxes and – worst of all – two freshly killed pike left on the bank. Almost immediately after that the opposite bank was leased by another club – all this happening on a river barely twelve feet across. Disillusioned, I didn’t bother fishing after Christmas and never fished it again.

By all accounts the fishing went rapidly downhill, possibly due in part to issues with water quality, but the angling pressure wouldn’t have helped. However, that might not be the end of the story. Mid-pandemic, but under the more relaxed circumstances of the summer, I found myself travelling along the River Mease valley once more. Again, out of curiosity, I stopped at a bridge and peered over into the water below. The river was clear and weed-filled with a clean gravel bottom and, whilst I didn’t spot any monsters this time, there were a few small fish dimpling on the surface further downstream. Enough to re-kindle some interest? We’ll see what the rest of lockdown brings!

01/12/2020 - Opportunity knocks

Post Lockdown II all of the East Midlands will in Tier 3, so the Friday night takeaway in support of the local pub will continue for the time being. However, in terms of fishing, there is actually a saving grace for me in that I live at the tripoint of Notts, Derbys and Leics. Just a short trip of a couple of miles down the road under the previous arrangements wasn't possible as it meant crossing different tier boundaries. Not that I will be travelling far anyway - I've got plenty of water locally at my disposal. Unfortunately, it's all of the other factors that do their best to put a spanner in the works, so when an empty work diary coincides with calm, bright weather conditions and the river is at a nice, steady level it's an opportunity not to be missed.  

I even had a pint of maggots in the fridge, purchased on the off-chance at the weekend. First light therefore saw me pulling up in an empty car park next to the River Derwent near Draycott. At first glance conditions looked to be spot on, with not a breath of wind disturbing the surface of the river. Whilst it was cold enough to numb the fingers as I pulled on my waders, I soon warmed up as I got moving. Found that the walk upstream to the top of the section was in stark contrast to the summer as the flood banks had received their winter haircuts and the stands of Himalayan balsam had been reduced to stubble. A cursory inspection of the swims below the weir found them to be too pacey and "boily" for my liking, so I headed back downstream to one of my trusted spots, a long, steady glide. 

First run through, "too shallow" I thought, so I increased the depth on the Avon float by 6 inches. Next cast the blaze orange tip disappeared and the first grayling came madly gyrating to the net. No better sign that you're on the money and I quickly added half a dozen more - peas in a pod. However, as the sun started to hit the water, my loose feed started to attract some undesired attention, my float dithering and bobbing on its way down the swim as the double maggot hookbait was harassed by little, stripey bait botherers. The good folks at the "cracker factory" had also started doing some pyrotechnic testing, the shotgun retorts accompanied by clouds of acrid smoke that started to drift across the river, stinging the nose.

I therefore made a move downstream, accompanied by a flock of cackling, hedge-hopping fieldfares. However, I couldn't buy a bite in the next couple of spots. Again, my usual "banker" swim looked just a bit too fast and turbulent for fish to be comfortably sat out in the flow. This made me stop and think where they might be instead and I remembered seeing a cattle drink on Google Maps, where the bank had been broken down to create a gently shelving gravel "beach" on the inside of a bend. Looked ideal with a decent run of flat water running through at a nice walking pace.Trouble was that the low sun was now shining straight upstream, causing me to squint through the glare to see my float.  

However, I persevered and was glad that I did as it became obvious that a few fish were lying at the bottom of the shelf and were feeding happily despite the bright conditions and gin clear water. Remained in that spot until I could no longer ignore my growling stomach. Finished with 21 grayling to just over a pound and a single, gate-crashing dace. All had been nailed by the size 16 Kamasan Animal, with just one lost to a broken hooklink right at the knot, possibly weakened by the previous fish. 

Stopped off at the golden arches on the way home for a rare guilty pleasure to round off a very pleasant morning!

23/11/2020 - A proper grayling day

Hopes of a quick session on the Derwent last Friday were dashed by rising water levels as the lower river presumably reacted to rain higher up in the catchment. At least that gave me time to repair the hole I'd somehow bodged through the seat of my neoprenes last time out!

The weekend was therefore spent consulting XCWeather and the river level service on .GOV.UK to determine the next available window of opportunity. Luckily one presented itself sooner than later with calm, albeit cold, conditions on Monday looking ideal for a trip to my favourite Dove tributary, which was in the process of fining down rapidly. Was a bit of a shocker waking up on Monday morning to find out how cold it actually was, but after a few minutes spent scraping the car windows I was heading west on the A50. Arrived at the venue just as the sun was burning through the fog and lighting up the frost covered fields. Got all my layers on and headed upstream, defacing the otherwise blank, white canvas with the imprints of my size nines. 

At first sight the river looked to be at a nice level, with just a tinge of colour and not too many leaves. My only concern was that the drop in temperature from mid-teens on Saturday to low single figures in the space of 36 hours would put the fish off. However, on just the third trot through the first swim the float buried as the two maggots (purchased pre-lockdown and now over two weeks old!) were scoffed by my first grayling of the day. Had a couple more, but didn't hang around as only half the pool was fishable due to a fallen tree and I was keen to see what other re-modelling had gone on since last visit - the beauty of fishing a small, spate river is that things are always changing from one winter to the next.

Next spot downstream was actually unchanged and one that I'd had several fish over the pound mark from in the past, but had recently become a bit of a bogey swim. I therefore wasn't expecting much and was on the point of moving on again when the float disappeared and I found myself connected to a much better fish that dogged around in the current before heading upstream. Frayed my nerves a bit when it went airborne a couple of times and I saw it was a decent grayling. 

However, the size 16 Kamasan Animal held and the Ultralite eventually took its toll as a cracking male rolled into the net. Carried on downstream picking off a few fish here and there, with some swims being a bit kinder than others. Had a couple of grayling out of one pool before hitting into another good fish, only this time when it erupted from the service like a missile I saw it was a spotty instead. Out of season and in mint condition with a buttery yellow belly it went back straight after a quick snap in the net. 

Stopped for a late lunch in the next spot, again one that had always been good for a few fish. However, first trot down after finishing my chorizo, hummus and salad cob I had a chunky dace instead of the expected grayling. He was followed by five of his shoal mates before the swim died and I moved on again. At this point I decided walk much further downstream to another previously productive swim. As I approached I could see another member who I'd met before just in the process of packing up. He'd been fishing with nymphs all day but hadn't had a touch. After we'd had a chat he said he was calling it day, so I had a cup of coffee before dropping into the swim he'd just vacated. 

Felt a bit guilty when the float buried not once, but four times in quick succession! My fellow angler re-appeared on the opposite bank just as I was unhooking the fourth grayling, mumbled something about "giving up fishing" then carried on back to his car. Was starting to lose the light by now, so I had a quick walk to the downstream limit, more out of curiosity than anything as I'd not ventured that far before, although I did bump a couple of fish in a swim that was marked for further attention at a later date. Went back to the car and had another coffee in the gathering gloom before heading home. Had 28 grayling, 6 dace and 3 brownies in total, so was glad that I'd taken a gamble on the weather. 

The only downer to the day was Bozza threatening stricter restrictions when we go back to the tiered system after lockown, so I'll have to wait and see if and when I can return.

10/11/2020 - Grayling and minnow soup

Mentioned in my last post that I'd splashed out on a 14 ft Drennan Acolyte Plus. With the best part of two pints of maggots still in the fridge from pre-lockdown, I was itching to try my new toy out on the local grayling population. 

Scanning the weekly forecast, Tuesday morning looked to be calm and dry. Taking account of the lockdown travel guidance, my choice of where to go was dictated by two other factors - the continuing release of water to the Derwent from Ladybower Reservoir and another dreaded 2 o'clock work telecom. I therefore headed for my next closest venue, the River Dove, arriving just after first light to maximise my time on the bank. Walked upstream in the lifting gloom to a long run where I'd done well in the past. 

Starting at the head of the run I ran the float down the inside and had a bite straight away. Not my target species, but a big fat minnow. The swim must have been black with the little buggers as virtually every subsequent cast resulted in another stripey bait robber, two maggots on a size 16 Kamasan Animal apparently no obstacle. Obviously the mild weather had not yet put them to bed for the winter. The Acolyte was hardly getting a workout, so it was a blessing when a sweep of the rod eventually connected with something a bit more decent in the way of a small grayling. By now the procession of dog walkers on the far bank was in full swing, the odd one casting me an accusing look, but most a friendly wave. Whatever their demeanour, they all certainly help to keep the "Black Death" away!

Took me a good three hours to work my way across and down the run, taking a few more grayling and what seemed like millions of minnows in the process. On what was to be my last cast before moving I finally caught what I was after - a mint, male grayling well over a pound.That fish put me in a bit of a quandry - stay or move? In the end I opted to run the float through a few more times, which would have been the right decision had I not bumped or lost the next three decent fish! Something that comes wth grayling fishing I suppose, but frustrating when you are struggling a bit. Hastily legged it to the other swim I had in mind, which happened to be the furthest point away on the stretch, so I sweating a bit in my neoprenes when I got there. The freshening breeze was blowing straight upstream in this spot, which was not ideal, but the move was vindicated with a small grayling on my first trot through. 

More importantly, there didn't appear to be any pesky minnows in residence! Had another half a dozen grayling in quick succession, which had me kicking myself for not moving sooner. With time running out I gave myself one last cast and again found myself attached to good fish. Did the usual grayling trick of hanging out in the flow like a dead weight, but then decided to go airborne a few times when it got into the margins. Played it out carefully, eventually putting the net under another mint male. Unfortunately I really had to call it quits at this stage and yomped back across the fields shadowed by a big flock of fieldfares, the first I've seen this year. Got back home and dialled into my call with a minute to spare! Had been impressed with the Acolyte - unbelievably light, scarily thin at the tip, but with back bone to deal with the bigger fish, whilst not feeling over-gunned for the smaller stuff. 

Hopefully, it'll be getting a few more outings if the weather behaves, although there's more wet and windy weather forecast as we speak!!

04/11/2020 - Pre-lockdown piking

Writing this now in our second "lockdown" we've already received the good news that angling is one of the few recreational activities allowed to continue under the new restrictions. As long as we are sensible about the distance, it seems that we can still travel to do so as well. However, earlier in the week I was grappling with the consequences of the tier system and what that meant in terms of where I could and couldn't fish. Having finally got some respite for a few days from the intolerable high winds we've been experiencing, I was keen to get out somewhere.  

Ideally I would have liked to try out my new Drennan Acolyte 14 ft float rod on the grayling population, but my local River Derwent was out of bounds, being just the wrong side of a Tier 3 boundary. In any case, it was also at an artificially high level due water being released from Ladybower Reservoir to create some capacity for the winter, so the debut of my new toy would have to wait. Instead I dusted off the pike gear, raided the freezer and headed off to the River Soar near Kegworth. Day was forecast to be bright and sunny and there wasn't a cloud in the sky when I arrived shortly before sunrise. River was looking good, but what shocked me were the dense beds of floating pennywort, which were present as far as I could see. 

Walking upstream I was relieved to see that there were some fishable gaps and soon had a couple of joeys soaking in the near margin. Waited for an hour for the first indication on the downstream rod. The float was dithering around for so long I thought crayfish were responsible until it finally submerged. Had a fish on briefly before it decided to head under the nearest bed of pennywort. Couldn't bully it out, so slackened off and let it swim out of its own accord. Tightened down again and promptly pulled straight out of it! Rebaited then decided to leapfrog both rods downstream. Had just re-positioned one and was walking to get the other when I looked back to see that the float had already disappeared! Managed to get the hooks to stick in this one, although another late dash into a weed bed meant quite a bit of "salad" ended up in the landing net. 

Carried on leapfrogging downstream, losing another and landing three more - all small and barely hooked. They didn't seem to be really having and it appeared that I had to land a bait on their heads to get a reaction. When I did the reaction was immediate, but the rest of the time I was staring at motionless floats (apart from when I was duped by the bleak shoals pecking at them!). I was therefore trying to decide if  a move to another section for the last hour would be worthwhile when the Canal & Rivers Trust hove into view with their weedspraying boat. Was good to see that they were taking some action to control the pennywort, but they had effectively wrecked the near margin in the process, so my decision was made for me. 

Jumped back in the car and made the short hop downstream. With time limited before afternoon work Zoom calls beckoned (God, I hate them!), I set up opposite some boats, dropping one bait down the margin and the other just off the back end of a barge. Had just got settled when the bailiff arrived, although the fact I was "not Polish" seemed good enough for him as he didn't actually want to see my club book! Was just having a chat when the indicator on the margin rod hit the back rest with a clunk. Normally I would have been watching the float and would have been on the rod and feeding out line at the first indication. Unfortunately, by the time I got to the rod the float was lying ominously still, the bait having been dropped and the chance gone. 

"Oh dear!", I thought to myself. Bailiff must have been a mind reader as he hastily took his leave at this stage, so I changed the mangled smelt for a roach and popped it back into the same spot. However, it was the other rod that went next, the responsible party heading under the boat with his prize before I dragged him kicking and screaming to the net. Eked out the last few minutes without any further action and headed home under a mackerel sky, fitting given I'd four out of the five fish on joeys. Bit of a slow session, but in the process I had found a deeper hole that I'd previously been completely unaware of and one that was worth a look at in the future, possibly for an elusive Soar zander. 

As for the lockdown I need to re-assess my options, bearing in mind that there's plenty of people who have not been fortunate as us anglers and have had to give up their recereational activities for the month. Time to sensible I think.