August 2015

The Holy Grail

For as long as I can remember catching a Roach of 2lb has been an ambition of mine. Led by my early fishing mentor Simon in my early teens it was never far from our minds. We'd stay on the Banks of the River Wreake in Leicestershire well into dark trying in vain to get one. Simon eventually realised his dream before he sadly passed with not one but two fine Roach over the arbitrary but hugely significant two pounds. They always eluded me though. In fact my first ever blog post was about the pursuit of a big Roach (I'll post the link at the end along with a piece about Simon).

When I moved to Lincolnshire at the turn of the millennium my hopes were raised upon finding the secret river and there were even whispers about the potential of a local drain to produce a specimen. Still, a frankly ridiculous fifteen years later I still hadn't caught one or even seen a picture of one from any of my local drains and rivers, In fact I don't even know why I'm bringing this up now because this month I was taking part in a species hunt competition so I had absolutely no chance of catching one........or did I?

Competition gone mad

Myself and the usual suspects arranged a species hunt for the whole of August. Size of fish was irrelevant and to be honest what started out as a relatively simple format got progressively more complex. Without going into too much detail the more common of our fishes counted for 10 points rising to 50 points for things like Sea Trout, Salmon and controversially, Bass. The list of species was taken from an old freshwater fishes book of mine. Strangely it had Flounder and Bass in there. Living on the coast this suited me though and I approached the competition with a fair degree of confidence. We were all allocated a number which you'll see appear in all the catch shots to ensure fair play. What started out as a bit of fun and a chance to do something a little different angling-wise soon turned into a fierce battle........

A Slow Start

The first two fish I caught in August (from two different venues) were Hybrids which was most annoying as they didn't count. Bugger.

On my next day off I had a plan. Off to the secret river to catch Perch and Pike and maybe a Sea Trout then head downstream to the coast to get a flounder and high-scoring Bass. As expected the Perch wasn't a problem.......

With the river running clear I could see there were no Pike present so I wandered downstream. I couldn't see any there either but I did see a massive shoal of hybrids and strangely a dead swan. Even further downstream the Sea Trout pool was disappointingly lifeless. After departing the secret river I stopped off at a couple of drains on the way to the coast in hope of a Pike. No chance -they were absolutely choked with weed. Rather oddly I saw another dead swan by the drain side. I didn't really think anything else of it and made my way down to the remote beach. After the usual slog down to the water I fished hard for a couple of hours at low tide with not a single bite. This competition was not going to be as simple as I thought...........

I remembered Mrs P telling me of a pond she had encountered one day while out with the dogs. I set off to find it with a short float rod, some maggots, a loaf of bread and of course, the dogs. It certainly looked promising.........

After spraying a few maggots it was clear that all the fish were well up the water so I quickly switched to tiny pieces of floating bread. First to fall were a couple of tiny but perfectly formed Carp followed by a decent Rudd...........

I was having great fun but to be totally honest it did strike me that I wasn't really meant to be there. It had the feel of a stock pond rather than fishery. With a few points secured we made our way home. Sadly the Carp only counted once despite being different varieties.

Next up was an unexpected visit from our old friend Phil Kenny. He was keen to have one last go for the Smoothounds from the beach and with a favourable weather forecast I was happy to join him. After making the two hour journey we headed first to the excellent Big Catch Tackle (not sponsored, not interested in being sponsored- just a bloody good shop) and then up to the beach. The forecast was accurate- it was absolutely glorious and we spent a very pleasant afternoon on the sand. Sadly fish were very thin on the ground but I did manage to score some points for the comp with this plucky little flounder.........

With the first week of the competition over I had a rather paltry 60 points. Dave Owen had streaked into the lead with 160. I had a lot of ground to make up.

Week 2

I travelled up to the upper reaches of the Bream river mainly with the intention of catching a high-scoring Brown Trout. The first peg I fished was a bit of a dead loss, too weedy. I wandered off and soon found a lovely little spot below a small weir and happily trotted a small stick float downstream.......

A welcome Dace soon came to hand.............

I was thoroughly enjoying teasing my float down the crease of the flow when a family of Swans came down the weir. Although only small it was still a good drop for Dad, Mum and three youngsters. A few minutes later they reappeared from downstream and something wasn't quite right. The male Swan headed straight for me which I found very odd. On reflection I was sat in the only place they could climb out and get back above the weir. Anyway all of a sudden an angry Male Swan came into view and he wasn't happy. All hell broke loose. 

Dad and one of the cygnets made it out as I moved back. The angry Male attacked the female Swan with a viciousness I'd never witnessed before in these otherwise regal birds. It was trying to drown her. I stepped in and poked the male away with my landing net. The female quickly got out and joined the Dad and their baby upstream. That left two cygnets at the mercy of the angry male. It was relentless in attacking them. I stepped in again and again but he was really determined. It went on for far too long and although in a busy area the apathy of the general public that morning was irritating to say the least. Realising nobody really gave a toss and as a last resort I netted a cygnet in my landing net. I say cygnet but they were more like teenagers, it was bloody heavy as I lifted it to safety. It displayed absolutely no gratitude whatsoever the miserable sod. The other one was exactly the same- hissing and lunging at me as I set it free safely upstream. Quite an ordeal for one and ruined my swim for another, Then I remembered the two dead swans from the week before. Most people probably blame Otters when they see such sights- I'd like to bet most of the time it's the actions of another Swan. Vicious bastards. Little did I realise the angry Swan had just done me a massive favour........

I moved a good distance upstream in search of another weed free area when I stumbled upon a small clearing in the bank-to-bank rushes. After firing in a pouch full of maggots I cast the stick float over to far bank. Remarkably the float disappeared straight away and a bristling perch was landed. After a couple more Perch I finally added to my points tally with a fine looking Roach.........

On my very next cast I hooked something far more substantial and I had a few nervous moments as I steered it away from the lush vegetation. It didn't feel like a Trout so I thought it was maybe a big Perch but then it didn't really feel like one of them either. What the hell could it be? It flashed in the water and I took a sharp intake of breath. Surely not? It couldn't be could it I thought as I slipped the net under its silvery flanks. It bloody was...............my dream, the holy grail...........a two pound Roach.........

I still can't quite put it into words. It is strange though. Normally when I catch a big fish I want to get a bigger one or catch more. The reality of this capture though is slightly different. It was obviously and old fish, undisturbed and unknown for its whole life. A one off or if not, one of very very few in the entire twenty mile stretch of the river. A very special capture and without any shadow of doubt- a fish of a lifetime. Will I ever get another from a river locally? Probably not. 

I went back to the car slightly dazed and regathered my thoughts.......oh yes, Brown Trout. I knew just the place. A short journey down the river valley and I was soon beside another weir, albeit bigger than the first. I cast a worm out on a 4AAA link and waited. No bites were forthcoming and I decided to have a recast. Upon retrieval a bloody great Brownie lashed out at my shot as I brought them in. Arrrrg! I dashed back to the car for my lure gear but despite covering the whole weirpool with a variety of lures I never saw it again.........

On the way home I stopped at another river and was left most frustrated when a Sea Trout leaped straight over my stick float. The plethora of Perch and Gudgeon I caught were scant consolation......

The day after I had a plan. My local drain is usually carpeted with Eels this time of year. I selected a spot that I usually fish near a big bush, I should I say ex bush, someone had cut it down. With just a few chippings left I made my way down the steep bank and sat where it used to be. It soon became apparent I had sat atop a massive ants nest. It really was most unpleasant but I'd already cupped in a couple of pots of chopped worms and thought it wouldn't take long to catch an Eel (worth 30 points). As I shipped out I reached for my fourth pole section and just clipped it with my hand. I watched as it slid in and sank straight to the bottom. The word Shimano was staring back at me in four feet of water. I went in for it. With a good six inches of silt by the time I got out I was pretty much saturated. At least it held the ants off for a bit as I fished on in vain. What an idiot.

I did manage to catch a Stickleback after work one night in the margins of a boating lake which brought my score to a round hundred. Dave had moved the goalposts slightly by progressing to 180 while Martin, Jamie and the old caged panther Andy were all ahead of me too. Speculation began to mount about a winning total. 220 was thought to be a good score...............

Week 3 

After having another go for a Brownie with no joy I decided to to bite the bullet and travel over to Withern Mill Trout fishery. I paid a reasonable £15 for a catch and release ticket. To be honest I didn't really enjoy it. I hadn't fly fished for a couple of years and had to endure a multitude of tangles and lost flies in trees and vegetation. In addition to that my first fish was a Perch. I then found some Grayling in the river. I actually had my fly taken twice and quickly spat out again much to my annoyance. Two Brownies in the Lakes did the very same. I did catch three Rainbows though. Sadly only worth 10 points.........

I had a lovely chat with the owner on the way out, mainly about the river. She too had seen the giant Dog Otter I had seen the season before......'As big as my Labrador' she said. Now without getting into the whole Otter debate she did say she had five hundred goldfish in a stock pond....had being the operative word. A local Otter family had eaten the lot. They also prefer Brownies to Rainbows I learnt. She was great though, she said she hears them playing on her lawn regularly and seemed resigned to sharing the river with them. The local Cormorants received a different response though. Still even though she has a licence to shoot them she always fires just to scare them off. Where they are concerned I'm not sure I could show the same restraint. On that particular river they are a real problem. As she rightly stated- 'They are no longer a sea bird'.

I spent the rest of the week trying for some of our more diminutive river inhabitants. The Bullhead was relatively easy to come across and scored a valuable 30 points............

The Stoneloach was an entirely different proposition though and (I hope Mrs P isn't reading this) I must have clocked up 100+ miles looking for one. It sounds rather silly now but I fear I was engrossed in the competition. Besides I was getting messages from some of the other guys and they were also in streams all over the country in wellies, getting 'wet sockers' while turning over stones. In truth, it was great thinking of some really great anglers going back to their roots. Martin, Jamie, Nate and Lee managed to catch the elusive Loach while myself, Dave and Andy struggled. Lee's Loach.........

I had another go for for the Eels in the local drain and thought I had them bubbling nicely. When the float dipped I thought I had cracked it. Unbelievably I wound in a Flounder. This coupled with another failed attempt at a Sea Trout and another impromptu dip in a small river hunting for minnows left me in slight despair.

Andy was the first to 200 but was soon overtaken by Nate, Dave and Jamie. Martin was on 180 while I was severely lagging on 140. 

Final Week

One final attempt at a Sea Trout I thought as I mad my way down to the secret river. My confidence spiked on arrival as the pool seemed to be bristling with life. After a few fruitless trots through I had a bite on the drop just after casting in. Surely a good sign of a Trout? Although obviously only small it was certainly fighting like one, twisting and turning rapidly in the flow. It turned out to be a giant Dace, probably 12oz+. It went back with a curse (I told you I was engrossed). With no more bites forthcoming I made my way to the headwaters, not catching a Sea Trout was one thing but surely I could get a Brownie?

As I peered over the bridge the water was too murky to see if my quarry was present. I peeled back the lid on my bait box and extracted a small worm. As soon as it hit the water a small Brownie shot out and engulfed it. The next one had a size fourteen in it............ 

With my tackle back in the car I had a wander around, throwing worms in likely looking spots and watching seemingly lifeless spots explode into life. There were absolutely loads of them. Fantastic to see.  

Competition wise Jamie was flying having registered the competitions first Salmon. Andy had stalled, while Nate and Martin were catching all manner of things. Dave was still scoring heavily too and his Ruffe gave me an idea...........

The West Fen in Boston had given me Ruffe in the past and they weren't difficult to catch...........until I really wanted to catch one. Bloody typical. I did manage to score with a Bleak and small Bream though..........

Next on the list were Chub and Pike, again two species I never normally have a problem catching. With the lower reaches of the Bream river totally choked with weed I gave up and headed to the middle reaches. The Chub was relatively easy although it weeded me and I had to go in for it. Wet up to my waist again. Simple link-legered bread its downfall. Never known Chub fight as hard as they do in that river, mind you, check out the paddle on it..........

The real big scorer that day though was from my local drain. After returning home I picked the dogs up and took them to the beach. I stopped off at the drain on the way and baited a spot with half a pint of red maggots. Half an hour later I returned and had one straight away........slithery bugger......

My final fish was an Ide from another local pond, decent one too. It only took about ten minutes to catch and about the only target that had gone to plan. Even though I had scored comfortably over 200 I had spent too long trying for everything really. I didn't get a Sea Trout, Bass, Ruffe or Stoneloach and god knows I tried. Sometimes you just need a good old fashioned dose of lady luck. I think I had used all mine up on my Roach. 

The final Table, top six............

Nate Green 360
Jamie Potts 290
Dave Owen 260
Martin Barnatt 250
Me 240
Andy Wilson 200

In the end Nate destroyed the field. Hardly the most prestigious competition but some very good anglers were trying very hard so he deserves a good deal of credit. Well done Nate, a fine display........

Some thanks- Everyone who took part and local anglers Paul Johnson and Chris Smith for venue suggestions.

Afterword

While some of us got embroiled in the species hunt some of my other friends were happy doing their own thing. Pick of the bunch has to be the usually publicity shy Neil (he'll probably kill me for this). A childhood dream was realised for Neil this month with a trip offshore in search of Blue Sharks. Did he catch any? You bet he did. Well done mate.........

Links

Simon-  https://daisydo100.wordpress.com/2012/11/15/the-waggler/

First Blog- https://daisydo100.wordpress.com/2011/12/30/best-plans/

Nate's facebook page- https://www.facebook.com/CompleatDangler?fref=ts

Leo's Blog- http://fishermans-journey.blogspot.co.uk/

Lee's Blog- http://thisanglinglife.blogspot.co.uk/

My email- the.power@tesco.net

Photography

This months photographs come from the very modest Andy Wilson. He visited the Lake District in the hope of sneaking a high scoring Char or Vendace (I told you they were trying). Sadly he didn't get any but he did take some absolutely stunning photographs which I'm sure you will appreciate.......

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

July 2015

Street Porter

As I crested a tall dune an expanse of sandy marshes dominated the view. With a strategically placed hand shading my eyes I could just make out the surf in the distance. On the far side of the dune the odd sunbather, picnickers and couples had their own little space where they were whiling away a few leisurely hours, basking in the early July heatwave and enjoying the solitude of a secret beauty spot.

The serenity was shattered that day by a my good self and the chaos twins. In a melee of licked sandwiches, wet noses, wagging tales and a heavily laden breathless angler we made our presence felt. Being Labradors the twins were cute enough to placate the sun worshippers, I however was looked upon with suspicious eyes. He's not going to carry all that stuff all the way to the sea surely? He must be mad. Little did they realise I was on a very important mission. With the dune behind me I cursed my flip flops as the fine mud sucked them off my feet at every opportunity. A rugby field sized patch of samphire was slowly negotiated before we reached firmer ground and continued on towards the still distant shore line. Not many people come here that's for sure I thought to myself. A place where you can see almost nothing in every direction. A place so remote and hostile that claims vehicles and clings onto them forever............

A few days later I was reliably informed of two fairly amazing facts. For a start people do actually go there. One lucky chap found a lump of amber worth £10000. Another is Janet Street Porter. Being keen walker it is apparently one of her favourite places in the country to go for a ramble. Probably the first time she has been mentioned in a fishing diary....... 

It's all about the Bass 

Having visited the remote beach before at low tide I had a hunch. There were just too many signs. The place was absolutely littered with shells of razor clams and crabs, worm casts in the hundreds and with the river estuary close by everything pointed to my quarry- the Bass. If anywhere I frequented had Bass present I'd have bet my mortgage on this place. As you know I'm a sea fishing novice but luckily watercraft is largely transferable. Anyway as detailed above it was a total slog just to get to the shore line, I deserved some reward for my effort surely?

Walking southwards towards the estuary mouth I didn't even get close before something caught my eye. An old shipwreck about 80 yards out. In essence it was just a few bits of old wood sticking out of the water but it was the only visible feature in view, in addition to that I was knackered. I poured the dogs some water before baiting my ready-rigged rods. Squid on one, worm on the other. 

With the baits out I had a little wander with my lure rod. I was never very far away from my main rods which proved prudent as after half an hour or so one was showing signs of interest. I did a quick double take down the line to check it wasn't being caused by a wayward celebrity's teeth (sorry, couldn't resist). By the time I got to the rod the tip was arced over and I struck immediately. Being the squid outfit at first I thought it was a small hound. Amazingly it wasn't. My prize...........

Now this may sound a bit sad but I sort of gave up after that. I'd caught my first Bass, nothing could top that. I stayed for another hour but I didn't really care that the tips stayed motionless. Not even the arduous trudge back could dampen my mood. 

Like Buses

Still in full sea fishing mode I decide to have a go on my local beach after work one night. An 11pm high tide fell just right for my finish time an hour earlier. The sea was flat calm and it was a dark night. I could see a couple of anglers lights far in the distance, which strangely provided me with some solace. Both rods were baited with squid this time. I was after hounds but would they still be about I thought as the time ticked away. An hour passed, even the lights in the distance had disappeared and my interest started to wane. A quick change to fresh baits and I stood with my head torch illuminating my rod tips without much hope of a fish at all really. 

As usual just as I was about to start packing up one of my rods hooped over. As I lent into it I was sure it was a hound as it thumped away spiritedly. To my total surprise it wasn't a hound at all. It was only another Bass and a good one too. New PB of 4lb 10oz..........

Flogging a dead horse

The next few trips to the beach were fairly disastrous. It may have only been an hour here and an hour there but those trips dampened my enthusiasm. In fact on one visit it wasn't just my enthusiasm that was dampened but myself and all my belongings as a freak wave drenched me and tried to claim my rods, tripod and all. My phone was ruined and with everything else saturated I headed home dejectedly. When the hounds aren't there it really is hard work. 

With the fishing so slow I feared the worse when Leo and Phil said they wanted to come over. It's a long journey for them and I couldn't even join them because of work commitments. I was geniunely delighted though when I got a message through on my phone mid afternoon, Somehow Phil had caught. First off a lovely Thornback Ray...........

Followed up by a Smoothound........

Leo chipped in with a few Flounders including one really big one. Phil was the man with the midas touch that day though, he'd missed out on the hounds on his last visit so it was really nice to see him succeed. Well done Phil.

Getting fresh...........

It was time to take stock. In a little over a month of sea fishing I'd had Smoothounds to nearly eleven pounds, two lovely Bass and an assortment of small flatties. With my catches diminishing and also still smarting from that freak wave I decide to put the beachcasters away and head down to the river.

On arrival I could see a group of Perch that were striking at fry about mid-stream. I made no attempt tomatch the hatch so they say but chucked a 3 inch mini fry straight over their heads. One took it instantly..........

With the chalk-filtered water running so very clear I watched as the Perch re-joined the shoal. In fact I didn't even have another cast, With no really big ones present I was happy just to watch them. Strange creatures fish, they seem to have ways of communicating that we are yet to fully understand. If one goes charging in the others follow. In fact it's a lot more synchronised than that. It reminded me of fishing for Carp on the top when you'd get two or three fish come up at exactly the same time in different areas after a period of no feeding whatsoever. Not sure if any of this helps us catch them but fascinating just the same.

Not again Phil.......

No, no you don't understand, this time I was sure I had found a venue that would produce that elusive 4lb perch I so crave. It was a small lake that had been shut for a number of years due to quite a sad story of ill health and family turmoil. In recent months though it had changed hands and the new owners set about tidying the place up and even dredged a lot of the silt out. With no recent news to go on all I had was its previous form. The old website promised 'Perch to threaten the British record'. As soon as I got word that it had reopened I was there. 

When I arrived the new owner appeared, a delightful lady who instantly offered me a tea or coffee. I could get used to this I thought as I looked for a likely looking spot. I settled on a peg near to an island and cupped in a generous amount of chopped worm. Straight away I was getting bites, unfortunately they weren't from Perch but Roach and some big ones too, maybe a pound or so. A couple of hours in and I hooked something far more substantial. It felt strange though and it soon became apparent I'd hooked an Eel. After a fair old tussle it surfaced and my word it was a beast, by far the biggest Eel I had ever seen. Quite how big we'll never know for after swimming backwards out of my landing net twice the hook pinged out. Bugger.

The owner hadn't been aware of any big perch coming out but then again she didn't know there were any Eels present. She did tell me there were some Chub in the lake though and after my swim dried up completely I had a wander around. In the far corner I saw something that made my heart jump. If it was a Chub it would be a British record. I quickly walked back and picked up my lure rod. I removed the lure from my line and tied a size 6 hook on. With a cheese cob pilfered from my pack up I made my way back around the lake. It took my bread offering first time and it wasn't a Chub, of course it wasn't, Chub don't grow to fourteen and a half pounds........

That was it for that particular day. Although it is some thirty miles from my house I've been back twice and each time I've struggled. I have caught lots of Perch but all very small. While I can't be sure there are any really big fish in there I will give it a few more goes or maybe even wait till the winter when the resident Carp have stopped colouring the water so much.

So where does that leave us? Well I do feel like I might just have short changed you this month but as ever my buddies are on hand to help out. Kind of like a rogues gallery we not only have fish from all over the country but a couple from abroad too......

First up is Andy who enjoyed some excellent sea sport in Pembrokeshire before heading back to his beloved river Trent for some fine looking Barbel.....

Next is Kent supremo Nate who's been out Eeling.......... 

Our friend Barry fisher travelled all the way to Finland to see a mate and while the fishing in general wasn't all he hoped it would be he did manage a nice lure caught Rudd.....

On the subject of lures, lure nut Carl has been troubling those midland Zander again.......albeit mainly the small ones............

Last but not least is Pete with the fish of his dreams from a trip to Thailand, an Arapaima..........

Contact

You are more than welcome to contact me via my email.....

the.power@tesco.net

Tackle Talk

How are you getting on with those new reels you told us about last month Phil? Er, have a look for yourself...........

After being hit with that freak wave both my reels were submerged in salt water. Despite thoroughly rinsing them in fresh water after the event one took poorly. The salt must have worked its way into the bearings as it felt horrible. After a strip down and re-grease it feels little better. It still works though. I could source some new bearings but I'll leave it for a while to see how long they last. One other thing is the bail arm. When building up for a big cast the rotors are so free moving they can actually flip the bail arm over through inertia alone. I think I have found a solution by putting the rotor right on the stop before casting. Having the bail arm shut on a big cast is not pleasant, if it happens again I'll take the trips out. Ho hum, at least they look nice.........

An essential part of my tackle these days is my camera. The Panasonic G3 really has been a great fishing camera. It's done me absolutely proud and almost all of the pictures in my diary in the last couple of years have been taken with it. Phone camera users will think it's overkill while DSLR users will sneer at its simplicity. The images speak for themselves though an honestly I can't recommend them highly enough. It was good enough to get me 'Picture of the Week' in Angling Times, with a self take too. The G3........ 

Despite my love of the G3 I've been out and bought a new toy, a Nikon D5200. I just wanted a bit more detail in my photos. After a few initial tries I am realising it isn't going to be quite that simple. This could be down to me or it could be highlighting what a good little camera the G3 is. It's certainly better for self take fishing photos as the flipround screen on the Nikon is a bit dim-witted. I never had to use a tripod or a remote with the G3. A simple bankstick adaptor and the built in timer were plenty good enough. I will persevere with the Nikon though because I have taken a couple of really impressive shots, I just need to be a lot more consistent with it........

As ever I'll leave you with some photo's and in a tribute to the G3 I've picked out some of my favourites............

 

 

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