Friday 27 June 2014

June 2014 Start of Season Special.

Preparations

A holiday at the start of the month combined with lots of work before and after (to pay for it) meant a late start to the river season for me. It didn't stop me planning what I was going to do though and a few phone calls were made regarding a stretch of my favourite river I have been meaning to find out about for a number of years. Bit of a strange one this as the club (if you can call it that) doesn't advertise, doesn't seem keen to either attract members or indeed do any kind of maintenance on the stretch. It suits me though as joining has opened up another two miles of prime river for me and it seemed as though I may just have it all to myself.....

"Fancy a walk up the river," I asked Mrs P. She always falls for it. "We aren't going fish spotting are we?" she checked. "No Dear," I sort of half lied. "We were going swim-making and weed-raking too....... "



We walked the whole length and not a single peg had been cut out, a good sign although the river was almost totally inaccessible in a lot of areas. After spooking a resident Cormorant I set about trampling a couple of likely looking spots down. Then it was time for the weed raking. Mine is an old garden rake head, some lead roof flashing for weight and a bit of rope. After the relaxation of my holiday it was hard work. The weed was thick and stubborn and truth be known I barely made a dent in it. However any clear spots I had created were baited with hemp, maggots and corn ready for my return a few days later. My target species were Roach and those elusive Bream that every local seems to know about but have never actually caught. Regulars will remember it was here I once found a scattering of very large scales on the bank. I speculated that an Otter had taken a Bream and by the size of the scales it was a big one. Eight pounds plus I guesstimated.

All I had to do was turn up?

With the amount of preparation I had done I fully expected to turn and crack it straight away. It was just after four am when I arrived at the river and I headed straight for one of my prebaited spots. A bite less hour and a half followed. Never mind, the other spot I prepared looks a bit more promising I kidded myself as I moved downstream and settled expectantly. Another two hours passed and I was dejected. All that preparation and hope, not to mention the cost of the ticket, was amounting to nothing. There was one area more than one person had mentioned to me in the past couple of seasons that I could try. It was my last resort. The only problem was getting there.

I had to somehow get my normal estate car on top of the flood bank. I managed it just and drove a mile gingerly in first gear. Happy just to have made it suddenly dawned on me that what I had done may well be frowned upon. Be just my luck to get banned on the first visit I thought as I made my first cast. 

It wasn't very deep, maybe two feet at most with a gentle flow. I had a small stick float set up and flicked it out baited with a couple of bronze maggots. On about the tenth run-through with the float I lost interest. It was so frustrating and I rummaged around in my tackle bag for a magic wand or something, anything. Sure I'd seen a few Cormorants and I knew there were Otters on the River but surely they had left some for me or was I too late? I turned back around to see what progress my float was making. Wait, where? What? Before I had time to compute my rod already had a healthy bend in it. A fish. Wow.

Whatever it was didn't want to come in and I had a right old tussle with what turned out to be a Bream of 4lb 7oz. After three or four years of being on the river, albeit the upper length it was the first proper Bream I had caught. You can imagine my face when I added another of 6lb 1oz.........  


After those two I lost a good fish and it seemed to unsettle them. Luckily there were a few hungry Hybrids willing to mop up any surplus maggots I had fed.........biggest 3lb 2oz......


They seem to have different 'amounts' of Bream in them and let me tell you, that top fish gave me a fright. When it was in the water I could have sworn it was a proper Roach. After the Hybrids I endured a barren spell of a couple of hours. The fish had gone but at least I had something to show you and could go home a happy man. Only problem was in my determination to catch I had forgotten about my return journey along the flood bank. That would be the bank that is almost exactly a car wide. At least it refreshed my reversing skills.

Opportunity knocks 

My car went in for MOT. So what? I hear you cry. Well it would be in for a couple of hours and behind the garage is a drain. A drain supposedly full of Roach. The spot I had my eye on was a bit challenging due to some overenthusiastic strimming but I set about the swim. My tackle was an old swing tip rod, ideal for small streams being only 8ft and being mostly fibreglass it has a soft action. A small reel, stick float and size 14 hook baited with bread completed the set up. I ran it through a few times and more often than not came back with a lovely Rudd or plump Roach. All too soon it was time to collect my car, stopping off at another spot on my return walk. Maybe I'll go back. Certainly beats the usually coffee machine/old magazine arrangement in most waiting rooms.......




Let's do it properly

After a long week at work I was itching to get back to those Bream. Now I knew were they were I could fish a little differently, feed more etc. I arrived early again and this time I manged to turn my car around on the bank. As usual three Cormorants scattered from their roosts as I continued downstream. I was soon in position and by five am I was fishing. It was three hopeless hours later that I had my first bite. The culprit? A very small hybrid..............


Mrs P texted to see how I was getting on. After informing her it was rubbish she put me straight- enjoy the weather/stick at it etc. She was right, all week I had been looking forward to this, I wasn't about to leave just yet. The weather certainly was glorious and being literally in the middle of nowhere (the nearest town is twenty miles away) it was very relaxing, tranquil even...........


I even wound in and had a little sleep. By lunch time though I was packing up. Despite the weather and the peace I was deflated. Where were those fish? At least I knew they occasionally visited the spot I was in so before leaving I put every bit of bait in my bag- hemp, corn, maggots and some old pellets in the swim. The farmer even gave me a cheery wave on my way back over the flood bank so that was one less thing to worry about.

The next morning I was back. It was gamble. It isn't an easy place to get to and working late nights meant two early starts in a row would take a bit out of me and I'd pay for it later in the week. As soon as I got to the swim it was obvious the fish were there. All those doubts went straight out of the window. Patches of bubbles, big bow-waves and swirls were everywhere. In the stillness of the morning it was a magical time. A feeding frenzy was going on not six feet away and to any 'normal' person they'd be almost completely unaware of it. Knowing what was going on it was a struggle just threading my line through my rod rings. Only another angler will know this feeling of expectation. Anyway I was right to be excited because I caught straight from the off. Two Bream came in before a couple of those feisty Hybrids were netted. I tried to take fish from the edges of the shoal to keep them there as long as possible. In the end I had five big Bream and seven Hybrids including a personal best river Bream of 7lb 14oz......



Despite........

About half way through probably my best ever river Bream session I saw what I thought was a large piece a wood floating towards me. I did a double-take. It was being propelled. It wasn't a lump of wood at all but a massive Otter, much bigger than any I have seen before. It had a great big square head on it and dissapeared from whence it came as soon as it saw me. You know me by now, I'm a bit of a hugger (not a typo). I do worry though, especially about the Cormorants. The river is very clear and combined with the Pike and Otters it may just be too much for the river to stand. I could be (and do hope) that I am wrong. Time will tell. One thing is for sure, every time I go the Cormorants scatter and the Otter swam away rapidly so if more people used the river they'd be more reluctant to live there.

Tackle Talk

Those Bream were caught using mostly car boot sale tackle- a Shakespeare Spliced-Tip match rod (£4), D.A.M Quick Reel (£2.50) and I even got the John Dean stick float off there too (10p). To be honest it is lovely gear and shows you don't have to have the latest, greatest tackle or spend a fortune to do the business. The D.A.M along with a few other purchases...........


Silstar CX41 (£2.50). Not to use, purely for nostalgic value....


Mitchell 410 (£5) and a Shimano Powerloop match rod (£8). Maybe my greatest purchase ever.....


I only really go to one boot sale. I'm not up every morning rummaging in peoples boots before they have set up like some ignorant idiots I've seen. I also wont be there the following week selling stuff I bought the week before. Seriously, I've just been lucky. 

While we are the subject of tackle there is a lot of nonsense written about stick float fishing. If you have never tried it then give it a go. Some people say it is an art and you have to be super-skillful to master it. While there are little tricks that'll come with practise the basic principle is incredibly simple- just keep the float going through the swim as naturally as possible. This usually means keeping the line behind the float. You can even use them on lakes when the tow needs to be dealt with. As always you can contact me for any further advice or just to say hello.....


Afterword

I swear to god this is true-

It was about 3am in Benidorm, Spain. I was on a big stag night for two of my good friends. At first we all stayed together but at that time of the morning we had split up. "Let's go and watch the midget strippers," some said and off they went, hunting for performing dwarfs. Me and a couple of others passed up on this and headed across town to KFC. Turning down a side street I waited for my buddies to catch up. I was leant against some railings when a smiling face came towards me. I had never seen him before in my life. "Hi, Phil." he said. "Hello mate," I replied still none the wiser. "It's Dave, I've messaged you a few times, you know, about your fishing blog." he added.

Hello Dave

Till next time..............................

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