Footsteps of an Angler

Good for a bite but for how long?

2012-02-27T12:53:00.003Z

After the recent cold snap we've all been experiencing of late, my latest trip had been planned around the trusty words of the weatherman.

The previous day the heavens had opened and although I didn't expect it to bring the levels up, I did at least think it might just add a tinge of colour.

I arrived at first light as per normal and followed the watercourse for a couple of fields until I came to a swim I hadn't angled at all this season.

For those who follow my steps, you would know that the last few weeks I have been chasing chevins on a lighter set up, but with the forecast of 16C and light southwesterly winds it was time once again to air the barbel gear.
Double elips pellet glued back to back on the hair was as extravagant as it got and then small bags of mixed elips mixed with some natural gear that I have been sent from the pallatrax stable to try (it looks interesting to say the least) and I look forward to experimenting with it in the coming months for all manner of species.
There is very little flow at the moment so all that was required was a small Stonze on a running link which is pretty much my standard set up for the Ouse these days.

Nearly all of my small river angling is with just the one rod but today I had packed two, one was to be flicked just down the inside behind the remains of a dead reed bed and the other was set on the edge of a far bank tree some fifteen yards down stream where the water had some pace going through with a nice depth to it.

With the baits in position, I sat back and took in my surroundings with a flasked brew just in time to see a kingfisher flash by and it was just at that point with no warning signs, that the rod bounced round and I threw my cup some five yards before lifting into what was obviously no barbel. A spirited fight then led to a nice clean chub hitting the back of the net. No weighing as it did not matter a jot, a quick shot was taken and on placing it back in the net Mr kingfisher shot back past me and was probably thinking.......jammy sod!
I then walked the fish some twenty yards downstream before releasing her back to her watery home.

On the walk back I collected my now empty cup and wiped the rim clean of dirt and cow dung!

Great!!

A" fresh un" was poured/devoured while the next pair of pellets were air drying, before the next gentle cast back to the far bank feature was made. I always get thoughts entering my head of "where there's chub there could also be a barbel" so with those thoughts, once again I sat back, watched and chilaxed.

A good forty minutes had passed before a gentle tap on the rod tip, this caused my right hand to hover above the reel seat but all went quiet for the next five minutes and then "bang", a proper pull round and on striking, the fish immediately tried to get to the comfort of the hanging branches, pressure was applied and soon i was steering another chub up river and into the net. It turned out to be of similar size as the first and the same ritual was to be made as before.

All went quiet from then on, so after a while I decided to wind in and go for a stroll to have a look/see for fanciable spots and areas that might do me well for the last few remaining weeks of the season.

Which leads me on to another worrying point...........Rain!! We need a deluge of it.

No more do we get Summer floods, the winters are getting drier and on parts of my home water and what is also the case of most rivers up and down our country there are places where all that would be required is a pair of trainers to cross the flows. Its all terribly worrying and the future is not looking too rosy. Never mind the Otters, cormorants, crayfish and poachers as soon we'll have dried up dyke's/ditches and pools that not even they can angle in!

There's no plus points on ending this article, what can be done?

A clue I have not?

Enjoy the remainder of the season, be lucky and make the most of it.

Thirtynine degrees and excuses

2012-02-15T17:39:00.002Z

Arriving on the banks of the Gt Ouse at first light this morning, I was greeted with the sight of roughly a foot of extra water and a tinge of colour, it looked good. The wind was a tad on the blowy side and this made things a little uncomfortable but it was good to be out.

After the events of the past couple of weeks regarding the freeze and snow that we'd been given, I and everybody else maybe just thought there might just be a small window of opportunity for a barbel bite (we live in hope eh).

Myself and Mr Beale (not the dick in Eastenders) but a dick all the same, ventured to the stretch where golden balls hit it right just a few weeks ago with a couple of good fish including a nice double.

Golden settled into the same pitch that he had taken his previous prizes from and I dropped in to his left about a hundred yards downstream, a swim that has been good to me in seasons gone by.

Shallower water above me shelving down and creating a nice increase in depth, a crease and a slack, twenty yards below me is a huge snag (a tree) that washed down a couple of years ago in the floods.

If I was a fish, this is where I'd want to live!

Steve rang me not long after tackling up to tell me that he'd just taken the water temperature and thirtynine degrees was the figure, now i'm not one for taking temps (maybe i should start) and just go as and when I can rather than wait and do nothing until we get a reading of 42 plus degrees.

We gave it a couple of hours in the said section with no knocks forthcoming to either of us and it was at this point that I started getting thoughts of a different stretch just a couple of miles away from where we were.

A quick call and thirty minutes later we were setting off on another hike, at this point I'd just like to say that all this walking is doing wonders for my waistline and must admit that I'm looking rather good for it!!

We both tried a couple of swims each over the next four or so hours with nothing to show for our efforts before calling it quits and having no tea left.

The walk back the the car was the usual pondering of........Polar bears,otters,crayfish,cormorants, water too cold, snow melt, road salt, we're a day or two to early or basically we're just shite!!

Wednesday Blues

2012-01-26T12:56:00.002Z

A visit to the river had been planned with my brother for yesterday (he's not wet a line since last Sept).

Chub or perch were to be the main quarry and on arrival at the waters edge our first instinct was "it looks good for a bite",with slight colour and a little bit of extra pace.

The day was mild and overcast with hardly a breath of wind and after a walk of around fifteen minutes or so we arrived in the top field, plonked our kit down and set about a quick recce to see what might take our fancy.

Each swim would get half hour/forty minutes or so depending on tip action?

We tried, tried and tried some more with only the very odd tap occurring until eventually in the last swim where slack water resides due to dying rushes, Paul placed his hookbait right on the crease of the fast water and the slack and soon after his tip banged over and resulted in a nice sized chub.

I blanked in perfect style, and it wasn't until the evening that i began to smile once again as my beloved reds knocked Man City out of the cup, blues beaten on a Wednesday..........I love it.

JANUARY DOUBLE.

Have just received a phone call from a friend who today has been and bagged himself two chub and two barbel about a mile away from the above, with the biggest going 11lb 6oz and a hundred yards from him was an otter feeding/playing!!
A BIG well done mate, best I dig the barbel gear out again ;-)

Out of sorts

2012-01-20T14:30:00.000Z

The weather changed to milder conditions on Wednesday so a day off from the shop was booked for Thursday.
As I was loading the gear into the truck, the heavens opened and to be fair it had been forecast and was set to fizzle out by midday.

Twenty minutes later I was un doing the padlock and entering the fishery.
It soon become apparent that something did not feel right, the river seemed very quiet, the wind felt cold and all just seemed outta sorts!

Second cast in and the two big juicy lobworms I had flicked out towards the end of a crease were sucked in and it was fish on. Thirty seconds later and it was fish off!!
The hook had pulled and just maybe had been masked by one of the worms?
That turned out to be the only bite of the morning and it wasn't until 3pm after a couple of more moves that another bite was forthcoming.

I had just moved back down the stretch into what is probably the deepest pool. Fast water coming from some shallows while hitting the far bank and forming a nice crease before dropping into deeper water just before a far bank tree at the end of the run.
Two lobs were placed right on the end of the crease and almost straight away the tip pulled round. A fish of around four pound and looking a little rough around the edges had hit the net and saved a blank day.
A few more casts were had but nothing else could be tempted, not even a perch had wanted to play.

The day/hours leading upto this trip I was full of confidence and felt I might of got it right but it was not to be and for whatever reason it all seemed a little lifeless?
I shall keep my eye on the weather and try again soon.

Quick Post

2012-01-14T10:22:00.001Z

A husband and wife came for counselling after 15 years of marriage.

When asked what the problem was, the wife went into a passionate, painful tirade listing every problem they had ever had in the 15 years they had been married.

She went on and on and on: neglect, lack of intimacy, emptiness, loneliness, feeling unloved and unlovable, an entire laundry list of un-met needs she had endured over the course of their marriage.

Finally, after allowing this to go on for a sufficient length of time, the therapist got up, walked around the desk and, after asking the wife to stand, embraced and kissed her passionately.

The woman shut up and quietly sat down as though in a daze. The therapist turned to the husband and said, "This is what your wife needs at least three times a week. Can you do this?"

The husband thought for a moment and replied ... "Well, I can drop her off here on Mondays and Wednesdays, but on Fridays, I fish."

A January day

2012-01-12T16:38:00.001Z

I headed for the river this morning, it was my day off and the weatherman said it was going to be a mild one and guess what? He was right.

I'd been hatching a plan in my head for the last few days and stuck to it, a bait tactic which is certainly no secret and one that i had been meaning to try before now but just hadn't got round to it. (last weeks Angling times had reminded me)
A 10gm cage feeder was to be filled with mince and a prime piece of steak was to compliment it for a hookbait. Although I did take my trusty lobworms as back up!
A 6lb mainline and a 5lb hooklink to a size 8 hook completed the setup.

I had decided to walk to the furthest swim from the car and bait a few on my way there, just a couple of small balls of mince were placed in some likely looking areas, I intended to give each swim around forty minutes or so depending on what had occurred?
Swim one produced a small chub of about a pound, and one other bite that saw me hit fresh air! but at least i was no longer a meat virgin.One thing i noticed was just how savage the bites were using this method with the rod nearly being pulled from the rest in an aggressive manner!
Then all went quiet, so off i trotted .

Swim two (pictured above) is one that I usually walk past as in general its very shallow and although it was normal level today, the water had a nice colour to it and the bottom could not be seen.

Just to the left of the swim there is a slight bend and the water rushes round over the pebbles and rocks and kicks off of a far bank bush which in turn forms a crease in about two ft of water. It was on this crease that I flicked the baited hook.

Thirty or so seconds later, just as i was positioning the lowchair, the tip on the rod flew round and it was fish on!

A spirited fight was had in the faster water and soon after a chub of 4.07 was in the net, full of winter colours that were reflecting off the sunlight from behind me.

I decided to have one more cast in the said swim while I had a brew from the flask and a smoke, not really expecting another bite due to the commotion that had previously happened. Then just as I had taken my eye off the tip to watch a kingfisher go flashing past the rod wrapped round and sprung back just as quick, I'd failed to set the hook and a lucky chevin had just got away with it!!

That was the last of the activity in the swim, so again I upped sticks and set off for another.

The third swim failed with no action at all, and it was one of those situations when only other anglers would understand, that it didn't feel right, so after thirty minutes it was time to take a stroll.

Although i had taken the odd barbel from the next swim, today they were not on the wanted list, although if I'd have hooked one I'd of needed a lot of lady luck on my side with the tackle I was using.

The swim was a fair bit deeper with a sluggish pace to it and looks like a classic perch swim, so off with meat and on with three large lobworms, off came the feeder and replaced it with a light arlesey bomb, a gentle flick out and all was set.

Three small perch up to a pound(ish) were taken in as many casts then all went quiet for twenty minutes or so, I wound in, cleaned a few strands of weed off the hook that was masking the point and once again flicked it back into position.

On sitting back into the chair, the rod pulled round and on connecting with the fish I knew that this felt different, a heavy plodding sensation was coming back at me, it felt like a chub.

Just to the right of me was a branch that had come down in last weeks winds, the fish had managed to gain enough line from me to reach its safety and after what seemed like a couple of minutes of trying every trick in the book, the rod fell slack as the hooklink had parted. This battle I had just lost, I gave the swim a further half hour or so and managed another chub of around a pound and a half and that as they say was that.

The day had been a total pleasure, the kingfishers, the woodpecker and the chub in its winter coat, I would have liked to have seen the one that didn't want to see me but there's always next time

We had...................

2012-01-05T10:46:00.003Z

As we pulled into the car park, on opening the door it was nearly taken from the hinges!
I knew from that point on that we would be in for an uncomfortable session.

Carl had not previously seen this short little stretch, and although it looks pretty as a picture in the summer months, come the winter it can be bleak as hell, open fields and not much cover from the elements can cause the angler some challenging fishing to say the least.

We walked to the far end of the fishery more for the fact of showing him the complete section, while at the same time viewing the swims that might be worth a try on the way back.
To be fair it looked quite good as the water had risen at least a 1ft from the previous days rainfall and had a nice tinge of colour to it.
I settled him into a few nice swims that i have had the odd pull in, while i dropped in and around him.
Simple link loop tactics were the order of the day with a couple of fat lobby's on with a gentle spray of maggots over the top every now and then.

The tip was moving around ok but this was only to be caused by the now ever increasing wind, don't get me wrong, it was nice to be out and for a change and it was nice to have some company and share a chat and a brew.
We fished around five swims each and all we caught for our efforts was a chublet which fell to Carl's rod and that turned out to be smaller than the worms he was drowning!

I have promised to get him back there again before the season ends.
There in there mate and it could be a special one so keep your gear on alert I'll ring ya.

Out with a Lob on........

2012-01-03T11:38:00.001Z

As I write this, the winds are blowing and the rain is lashing down, on sipping my tea i wounder if tomorrow i can tempt anything into taking the bait?

A day session to the Gt Ouse has been planned with my eldest lad Carl. The plan is to wander a nice little section that has been known to throw up the odd little gem.
Chub and perch will be the main targets, but failing that then anything that fancies a couple of juicy lobworms will suffice.
If nothing else then this rain will at least put some colour in the water. Like most waters at present they are extremely low and have been all year, a good flush through is needed as blanket weed is still gripping on to the riverbed.
Anyway........I'm muttering on and i have the tackle to sort out.

I'll inform you as to how we get on........................

It's been a funny old year

2012-01-02T19:19:00.001Z

My blog time has been quiet to say the least, with a change of home life, work life and just life in general something had to take a back seat for a while, hence a quiet blog.

Fishing time is now limited, but when i do manage to get out i'm enjoying as much as I always have and long may that continue.

This past year has seen me fishing my usual haunts on the Great Ouse, odd trips to the River Teme and River Severn and occasional visits to a couple of local lakes in search of roach that may or may not be there?

No personal bests have been captured but a few nice fish have graced the waiting net from time to time.
Perch, barbel and chub being the main stay of my captures.

Today is the 2nd of January 2012 and i would just like to say..........HAPPY NEW YEAR to those who take the time to read my blog.
I endeavour to continue my writing as and when things happen or if i think they maybe of slight interest.

Have a good year, enjoy and hopefully achieve your goals.

Derren

Shades of the Severn and a bump in the night

2010-10-04T21:51:00.007+01:00

Although this is a delayed post the event is still etched firmly in ones mind.

It was a trip, an annual trip that takes place the same week of every year to the beautiful River Severn.

This was a special trip for me as Carl (my eldest son) was also booked in on the adventure.

The break was between Saturday 11th Sept and Wednesday 16th.

Carl, had taken to carp fishing waters close by in our hometown in Bedfordshire a couple of years ago but this was to be his first time fishing for barbel, and you could tell on journey up that he was a tad excited about the few days that lay before him.

After a brief stop off in Stourport to fill up with a hearty fry up and to collect our day tickets from Marks tackle shop, we then set off for the last half hour of the journey to find the middle Severn and its beautiful surroundings.

On arrival it was noticeable that the levels were very low and the gin clear water was rippling over the rapids just outside the cottage gate.

As I opted to unpack the truck, Paul and Carl went for a short stroll across the fields just to get a feel for the place.

Also in the party were my parents who were in fact on their tenth visit but unlike us were to stay for the entire week and enjoy the peace and quiet after we had departed.

Dad had strick orders that daytime was for outings with the boss and evenings were his hours to play on the water!

So that first evening, after one of mums Shepard's pies(well actually they came from Strattons the butchers) we all set off with tackle in hand, I decided to sit with Carl for a while just to get him up and running.

The rigs were simple free running feeders which were packed with a simple mix of hemp and hali crush groundbait that was spiced up with flaked and powdered chili, 3mm halibut pellets and a good glug of liquid spicy sausage.

Two foot hooklinks down to a size 8 or 10 Pallatrax hook and to complete the set up, two or three elips pellets were glued to the simple hair rig.

His swim consisted of fast water on the far bank above a gully that was between a couple of overhanging trees, Paul had set up in the swim below and soon both were angling and chilaxing.

At one stage Carl's eyes were fixated that hard on the rod end, i thought the isotope was set to melt, "don't worry mate you'll know if one hits you" i said.

I left them to it and wandered back to the cottage to grab a single rod that was set up for trundling a lump of meat through the pacier water.

On walking back past them half hour or so later it was confirmed that Paul had netted two and Carl had bagged one with all three in the 4/5lb bracket, the smile on his face said it all and i wasn't surprised when he was usually the last one in every evening.

Day two arrived, flasks were made, bait was mixed and off we set again, we only had the morning as it was Ma and Pa's anniversary so a trip to the local pub to sample its ale and to fill our stomach's with a carvery was the order of the day.

That morning session I managed to hit the net with one, but one noticeable thing had changed, the river was rising and no rain was had, not for us nor for them further up towards Wales.

Occasionally, the reservoirs further up in the hills get emptied and with that, gallons upon gallons of cold water comes racing down the river.

The colour had changed and soon it looked more like the colour of tea, the tinge looked good but the sudden change of temperature seemed to have had an effect but by the following evening she'd risen a couple of feet at least.

This change made the fishing tricky to say the least and although we did manage a few more between us that day, they were hard earned with a few moves being made just to search 'em out'.

That evening, I decided to try the deeper water in the top field with the thinking that maybe they'll feel more at home with a bit more depth while the colder water flowed ten feet above their heads,

This decision payed off for me as three barbel graced my net and only because tiredness had set in at around 10.30pm i decided to call it a day, Paul and Carl stayed out for another hour or so and managed at least a fish each.

All was quiet back at the cottage, one last smoke and a brew was had before turning in, my eyes were burning after the fresh air had taken its toll.

The boys arrived back and settled down, they were getting up for the dawn bash, I was getting up whenever (god I'm getting on a bit) I woke?

Little did I know what was about to happen next...........Just gone half past midnight, in my state of comatose , I woke to the sound that only can be described as terrifying!!

Mum had decided to have a pee stop without turning a light on and rather than turning immediate left back towards the bedroom, she decided to go second left which just happens to be the staircase!!!

Off the end she flew, crash, bang, whack and a yelp!

All of us ran from our rooms, wondering what the hell had happened?

Paul near shat himself as he was bedding down on one of the sofas, and all i heard him say was......'what the bloody hell are you doin'?

Mum, bless her was in a crumbled heap and could not move, dad was stood there in his boxers and at that point i did not know what i feared most!!

The paramedic was called due to the fact of her head hitting the wall, knees were grazed and fingers bent back causing some swelling.

Eventually the blue light arrived, we had all got dressed in fear of scaring them to death, checks were done and on saying her name to complete the task she decided to nodd off!

'Come on Brenda, lets take you for a check up'

Dad went in the ambulance and myself and Carl followed behind, two miles up the road the back doors opened and out popped dad who was now feeling travel sick!!

A 50 mile round trip was had, but gladly all ended well with the checks being fine, apart from some bad bruising.

We returned to our beds at 4.30am!

A stair gate was then erected for the rest of their stay!

The river continued to rise the next day and after the previous nights event, I had decided to take it easy and kick back a little, but the boys, well they got up at sunrise and were back out and at it.

By the Wednesday we'd managed about thirty fish to upper eights between us, Carl had lost his barbel virginity, mum was carrying a few bruises and dad, well he's just dad but at least he got his ride in the blue light wagon.

Get the kettle on mate, I'm gagging. Part two

2010-08-22T21:57:00.003+01:00

..................Before i forget, i must add at this point that earlier in the afternoon on that first day, our in house weather forecaster Mr Steve Beale had said as we looked into the distant clouds that were gathering "we should be alright it looks like it'll miss us"!!

How wrong was that statement? Direct bleeding hit, as big black clouds drew in, water was literally bouncing off the ground and soon become hail stones the size of golf balls!!

Myself and Trefor not being the sort to take the mick, of course said nothing about this event as after about half an hour or so it cleared and was soon forgotten!!

So day two began as we woke at just after 6am, guess what? we put the kettle on!!

I had a bath with a baby wipe while waiting for the kettle to sing and watched the mist rising from the damp fields, all was quiet apart from the odd chub rising.

Tref insisted that we toughed it out in the same pegs due to the baiting strategy of the previous day 'surely some things got to move through us today?' I thought to myself.

Right!!....New day, new head and a fresh cuppa!! Lets have it!!

By 7am the rods were back in position and by nine we had devoured bacon and sausage sarnies and was just sitting back watching the world go by when out of the corner of my eye I could see Steve's rod trying to leave us, 'fish on' I yelped.

A short battle commenced and soon we had our first babel in the back of the net, she came in at upper sevens and this had given us the encouragement we were waiting for so we celebrated with yes you've guessed it.......A brew, but this time round we dunked biscuits too!

To be fair I think we all expected another fish quickly after, expecting a pod of fish to be moving through together, but it was a whole two hours later whilst i was ambling back from a wander a few pegs up looking for fishy movements and managing to net a chub of about the 3lb mark when a call was cried out to say a boat was coming.

It was on this call and on seeing Steve winding in but looking like he was weeded up, that it soon become apparent that he was indeed into another fish. He'd actually picked the rod up to wind in and at that precise moment his rod lunged over and as they say.......' the rest is history'

Steve had just caught his new personal best barbel at 13lb 5oz!

He looked like a startled rabbit!

It was one of those angling moments when nothing else really mattered and 'did that just happen?'

A quick couple of shots were taken, Steve was still not saying too much and left myself and the Westy fella to lie the fish up in the margins for a well earned rest.

I'd like to just say again at this point..........well done fella.

Lunch was had, more tea was had but nothing else looked forthcoming apart from some horrible looking black fluffy things in the sky!!! Yes.......clouds, rain clouds!!

Steve this time kept quiet and we took the pee just a little by asking if they would miss us but no reply was had!

We'd set a time of 5pm to call it a day but at 3.30 it all became a little too much, wind, rain and the lack of tea had ended our trip.

So for me, I didn't get my first Avon barbel but I saw two, with one being a right beast!

I will return as I have a score to settle and I won't be leaving it too long either.

Thanks to Elaine for the grub, thanks to Steve for saving the day with a clonking fish and great company that will live in my memory forever along with the other great angling events I have witnessed over the years.

And last but not least thanks to Trefor for keeping us upbeat and amused with his story's, but most of all for...........Making a lovely cup of tea!!

Get the kettle on mate, I'm gagging. Part one

2010-08-20T22:19:00.002+01:00

4am arrived and on turning the key to the truck thoughts in my mind were of a virgin river to me.
The Warwickshire Avon was calling, but first I had to stop off and collect a certain Mr Beale.

As planned I drew up outside his shack at just after 4.30 and he waved me in for a brew!
Little did I know that this, my second brew of the day was setting the scene for the next 48 hours.
Let me explain, for those that do not really know me, tea is my second love......gallons of it can be consumed and I still won't get up for a pee in the middle of the night!!

Truck was loaded and we headed out of Milton Keynes bound for the M40 with no postcode, all we had was a field somewhere on the Avon where Mr Tref would hopefully be waiting with the kettle on!

One hour and twenty minutes later after black thunder was ragged off the clock and we drew up through a farmers field with only one vehicle in view, true to his word there he sat at two minutes past six waiting to greet us, "how are you boys"? "thirsty" I replied while shaking his hand.

This particular section Tref had been doing well off the past few weeks and from the off he started his confidence strategy, explaining the plan of attack for the next couple of days.

With the tea consumed and the time now seven(ish), Tref made the call to get tackled up.

Open ended feeders with a mix of groundbait and pellet, free running to a slightly longer hooklink than normal was completed with a size six hook and two or three glued pellets on the hair.
The plan was to feed small with the feeders and loose feed a dozen or so pellets with the catapult every 45 minutes or so depending on how events unfolded.

Eggs and bacon were now singing in the pan, kettle was on and we sat back watching the tips as the water was running from left to right.

The day was pleasant with sunny spells but the wind was blowing straight at us, causing a ripple on the surface that made viewing very difficult to say the least.

Most of Trefs captures from this stretch so far had been in the afternoons, mainly between 1 and 5 pm and surprisingly nothing was occurring during the evenings?

Mid morning and the odd boat started to show , which in turn meant winding in, re baiting and focusing once more.
Tref would, in spells sit there and tell us one of his many tales, some recent some old but boy does he know how to tell them, as plenty of times both Steve and myself would be rolling around with rib ache.

That first day was indeed very quiet, but Tref kept us upbeat and encouraged us to hang in there, "the methods been good, and we just need a pod of fish to move through us" he said.

At six pm we lit the gas under Elaine's chilli con carne and whacked on the rice to boot!
I must just take this opportunity to thank her for this, and as Steve was feeling slightly under the weather this only meant one thing........I got more!!
A bottle of red completed our little snack and a relaxed manner was restored once more.

This set us up for the evening and lit the flames once more that just maybe we might be able to get Tref a barbel in out of favoured hours due to the form book.
We angled on till roughly 10pm and all we managed for our efforts was a small chub for yours truly and a bream of about a pound for master Beale of which a certain Mr West found highly amusing.....................

Speak soon

2010-08-14T18:57:00.000+01:00

Warwickshire waits

2010-08-14T18:40:00.003+01:00

Just been confirmed that my two day break with Trefor is to be on the Warwickshire Avon.

Not once have I stepped onto its banks so hopefully a new treat is in store for me.

I'm off to sort my gear!!

Speak soon,

Derren

The master guide

2010-08-14T12:26:00.001+01:00

Some of you may recall this time last year of my two days in the company of a angling friend (Steve) while being guided by the legend that is Trefor West.

Well its that time again!
Early hours of this coming Wednesday the 18th August will see us heading to a destination that is still to be confirmed.

If last years Teme trip is anything to go by then it should be a giggle for a couple of days, with the odd fish thrown in for good measure.
Trefs ways are so simple and straight to the point but at the same time hard work, constantly on the move every twenty minutes or so following his sequence if nothing has occurred.

Steep banks, the walking and putting up with us customers must take its toll?
But Tref loves it and you can tell by the way he puts his points across that it still excites him to see a customer put one on the bank and pass on his years of knowledge.

For anybody that is thinking of booking a guided barbel trip then i recommend that you give Tref a call, you wont be disappointed.

I'll update after the event if my sides are not hurting me too much.

Wearing out 'the old uns'

2010-08-02T20:28:00.002+01:00

Although commercial carp lakes are frowned upon by some, they do have their place in the angling world.

A couple of times a year myself and and two work colleagues book the odd day off in the school holidays to take our 10/11 year old's carp fishing.

I would just like to say here, that I know it's not every body's cuppa but for the sake of the junior angler they're a god send!

It was noticeable from the point of the first fish that was hooked by each of them that their angling skills in terms of playing fish had progressed so much due to practice.

'12ft zig rigs are not the easiest it has to be said for playing fish for lads with such short arms and long rods'.

Joe Briars

I'm not going to bore you with a blow by blow account of the day as over a hundred carp were caught and all but a couple were wound in by the lads, while us old un's kept casting out fresh bits of 'plastic grub' and spent most of the day spodding to keep the fish out in front of us.

To say us old un's were knackered was an understatement!!
The wind, the spodding and and twelve hours on our feet had just about done us, but the boys loved it.

A big well done to Jason, Joe and Louis but just remember when us old un's are even older......Please take us fishing and make sure you show us the way and catch us some fish!!

Well done to Jason, Joe and Louis. "Top angling" <",)))>{

Doubled up with luck

2010-08-02T19:37:00.003+01:00

On this occasion whilst planning at home, I decided to try things a little differently.

One jar of chillie hemp, a small handful of corn and a scattering of 1mm pellets were placed into a bucket and mixed.

The plan was to bait drop my chosen swim on arrival then leave it for an hour or so while i took a wander down the beat.

A two rod attack was decided upon (which is against the grain for me usually), so ten large droppers were deposited to the chosen spots, one to the left hand tree that runs along the fishable bank rather than out and the right hand rod was placed just upstream, again to a tree but this time the said branches run to the centre of the river causing a crease.

After my stroll I then started to tackle up, both rods were baited initially with three small glued pellets, a pva bag was then attached and the small Stonze weight was gently lowered into place.

After about twenty minutes or so it soon became clear that Ronnie and Reggie (crays) were very active and very hungry!!

Both rods were wound in, and the baits were replaced with two large pellets which in turn were then wrapped with a big ball of Elixer6 paste.
The idea of this was just to give the baits a bit more of a chance of lasting a little longer while Reggie was having his feast, but twofold he would also be picking little bits off to give me a bit more attraction flowing downstream.

It was now dark, the cray taps continued and the odd chub tap had occurred.
11.30pm just as i was pouring one from the flask the right hand rod sprung round and slackened off as just as quick.
Whack!!
A shortish fight took place but soon I was unhooking a nice little fin perfect barbel just shy of seven pounds.

Things then went very quiet, and after texting my brother who was a little further downstream, to say we'll give it till 1am.

Just after 1am when I was thinking of calling it a day, the tip on the left hand spot rattled a little.
Paul then pulled up behind me, and to the words of 'I'll just give it five mins mate' 'something has just shown an interest'.

We were just sat there chatting about the findings of the evening when the left hand rod whacked over and nearly left me as the result of it!

A good fight pursued with the fish trying to stick me in the snags either side of the swim, the tackle held firm and we soon had a barbel in the net that weighed in exactly eight pound on the nose, and to date is the best one I've captured from this new stretch.

Now, was it the hemp mix or the paste? Or both? Was the paste still on there when the fish took even?
Or were they just having it and i got lucky?

Back on running water

2010-07-18T20:59:00.003+01:00

After feeling a bit of pressure of Church lake carping, this morning myself and Jason headed back to the Gt Ouse.

No early start was had, as the bacon butties were calling us.
Arriving at the river around eleven (ish), we strolled a couple of fields down after passing one other angler of whom I know and after a brief chat and landing a small common river carp for him we headed to our chosen plot.

The water has no flow at the moment so baiting up is done by hand rather than a dropper and after releasing a couple of handfuls I was soon casting a small feeder complete with hemp and a couple of pellets attached to the hook end into the chosen spot.

The bait had roughly been in the water forty five minutes when she rattled round and i whacked it!!

Soon in the folds was a nice looking chub of around four pounds or so of which Jason held for a quick couple of shots.

Second cast, after resting the spot for half hour, all most immediately the tip banged round resulting in another chub of which we weighed in at 5lb 4oz.

Just a couple of weeks ago the chub were looking tatty after their spawning efforts but these two were scale perfect and looking fit as fiddles.

Another hour was given in said swim but after these two causing a bit of disturbance we were soon upping sticks and moving back towards the car.
On passing Malc and having a quick chat and a brew from the flask, he explained that he was only getting a few perch after banking the small common earlier.

We decided to settle (or I did) in the peg that produced the small barbel the previous week.
I fished it for a couple of hours with no proper tugs apart from crays and chublets having the odd go at the bait.
The last hour or so was spent climbing a couple of trees looking at certain clear spot that have come to light in the past week, maybe fish or was it birds that have cleared a bit for us exposing nice little gravel runs in between the mass of blanket weed.
The areas are now etched firmly in my mind for future sessions.

I'll be back on the beat in the coming week all being well.

An honour

2010-07-14T21:42:00.001+01:00

I have just returned from a carp session that lasted three nights at Kevin Nash's Church pool.

I had been lucky enough to have the invitation through my place of work www.brownsofleightonbuzzard.co.uk

After being greeted at the gates, shown where to park up, myself and two work colleagues were soon emptying the truck load of gear and loading it into the small trailer that was attached to the back of a quad bike.

A short journey followed that led us past the factory and through Kevin's garden, past his stock ponds and copse lake until we finally reached Church pool.

First impressions were 'wow'.

I would say, the lake is roughly four acres in size, surrounded with a mixture of trees, plants and flowers to which make you really at ease.

Although nowadays I'm not an out and out carp only angler, this was a session I could not turn down.

For I, like many others grew up reading Kevin's writings, and the inspiration that he has given to our sport is only reached by a select few.

A quick tour round the pool was given, and we'd soon decided where we fancied pitching up for our three night stay.

The pool itself only has a few swims in selected areas and with no more than four anglers aloud on at any one time we decided to fish three out of the four banks between us.

I chose a bay that the light wind was pushing into after seeing a few lumps leaving the water, Stu chose a swim to my left further up the bank which covered a nice amount of water with two small island at about sixty yards.

Young Jack decided to go opposite Stu to cover that half of the lake, at the far end of the lake on one corner was a no fishing area that was to the surface with weed and a bit of a safe haven.

While we were all getting the tackle together in the blazing sun (my truck was saying 32 degrees) large fish could be seen leaving their home in many places.

Excited? 'was I'.

The swim I had chosen, had one of the islands ends about thirty yards in front of me, from the top of a small crack willow i looked out into the forest of weed that was about a foot below the waters surface, i wandered down the bank a little further to another tree to get a view from a different angle.

'They'll do for me' I muttered to myself.

Two spots, of which were probably twenty yards apart but only fifteen yards out.

Rods out and it was time to sit back and take it all in.

After only a couple of hours a whistle was given, it was Stu and he could be seen leaning into fish which soon had him tucked up into one of the weed beds.

The boat was fetched but soon the fish was gone (barbless rule in place), but no sooner had that one gone, one of his other rods that was only place an underarm cast out, was away!!

'Blimey, this session could be a good un', I chuntered to Stu.

After no mishaps, the fish was soon in the net and looking a little bit special.

The scales read 37lb, and she was a peach, with a few shots taken, she was soon being returned to her home. A can of beer was cracked open and well done's complete with hand shakes were given.

That first night, the lake seemed to be alive but it soon become apparent that the fish were leaving the water in front of me and heading in the opposite direction!

I tried getting to sleep about midnight, but every time my head hit the pillow another fish could be heard leaving the water.

Three o'clock was the last time i looked at the time on the phone and all to soon my eyes were open again at 5.45!!

The weather had changed, and we were now witnessing a heavy deluge of rain (how longs that been due?).

My end of the lake now seemed very quiet, too quiet!

Still, I was their to savour and chillax and that was what I did.

After lunch on that second day, I heard a splosh!! On looking up I could see that this was no fish!! No, this was young Jack Brown up to his neck in water, rod bent and hanging on to an angry carp.

I was now turning into a Gillie man, and after a short dash to Jacks peg, we were soon netting what turned out to be a well scaled mirror that was pretty as a picture with a weight of 32lb 4oz.

Again, shots were taken and i returned to my home wondering whether I'd get one?

I must say here, I wasn't overly confident as my swim/spots could be seen clearly and if the fish didn't return back to my end of the pool then I wouldn't get a chance.

We had grass snakes gliding about during the day but by night, all that could be heard were frogs!!

Frogs that Kevin had heard and liked the sound of when he had fished a lake many years ago and decided he wanted them on his pool, each one although identical they all had their own calling sounds, and on the last evening all was quiet and after a hefty dinner, my back end was giving me a few moments, well, what happened next did make me chuckle, as i was lying on my bed just watching the water, i let one rip to which the frog which lived to my left, let out his danger call, this then started the whole lakes frog population off as one by one in formation they sang their tune!!

I trotted up to Stu's swim with my cup in hand to tell him that I had started the frog song, but i would also like a cup of tea, please!

We were just sitting chatting when my receiver sounded, as the left hand rod played its happy tune.

I can tell what your thinking here, but your wrong!

This did not turn out to be one of the lakes giants, in fact it was even an ant!!

A small common of around the two pound mark was netted!!

I had caught one of Mr Nash's baby's. Still, a fish is a fish and I had persevered with my two spots in the weed and that little fella had saved my blushes.

The rest of the night was quiet and no other fish were caught, two thirty's and my sperm were all that had been out and soon enough it was time to pack up and say our thanks and farewells to Kevin and his team of lads that looked after us so well and made us feel truly welcome.

It was an honour to have the chance to fish and sit and chat with Kevin, to hear his tales.

So through this blog, once again I will say...............

Thanks, it was a pleasure.

Small is beautifull on a warm evening

2010-07-10T21:16:00.003+01:00

As planned i picked up the Intrepid piscator at 7pm for a quick session on the Gt Ouse.
The cows were on the move when we arrived so we followed them down the fields following the course of the river to the end of the beat, we had dumped our tackle off half way down the stretch and decided to have a wander to make sure of where we wanted to angle.

No need to rush, it was so hot and both of us were of the opinion that if a bite was to be had then it would be late in the evening, the river is very low and clear as you would expect after this heatwave we have been witnessing the last few weeks, conditions are far from perfect but just to fish as the sun leaves us for another day is a picture in itself.

We wandered back to the tackle and apart from a small mirror carp and a rather large heron flying above, nothing else was to be seen.

We chose a couple of swims towards the weir end of the stretch with a little bit of depth,flow and oxygen.
9.00pm and the first cast was made and fifteen minutes or so later a chublet type of bite had me striking into thin air!!
I then threw a few tit bits in, re baited the rod and ambled down to Keith with the flask in hand and rested the swim for ten minutes or so.
Keith was having fun with the crays and bats and after a quick slug of tea I returned and flicked out the already baited rod.

10.30pm as I was watching small fish hitting the surface it soon become apparent that something was trying to pull the rod from its rest!!
Straight away I could tell it was no Ouse monster as this little blighter was dashing around all over the place at a hundred mile an hour.

This was soon to be confirmed when in the folds lay a pristine little barbel of just under five pound, the pellets had scored again just to keep my confidence up.

The pair of us angled until 12.15am with no other activity, and by 1.30am I was tucked up in my bed thinking small bar of Ouse gold.

Time well spent

2010-07-06T21:03:00.003+01:00

Since the session with bro, I have angled only once more and that was a short Sunday bash back on the syndicate stretch.
We did not arrive till 11am, choosing a bacon sarnie with no rushing about before the day on the river.

By which time the sun was blazing and conditions were not the best, still its better for an eleven year old to be out in the countryside than sat in front of the x box!!

The first couple of hours was spent in my rubbers, wading and looking for spots, features and maybe something for later it the year.

Clear areas, depressions and anything that might just look like a feeding area for chub/barbel not just for now, but for when she's holding a bit of colour with extra water to boot.

This i find, all adds to the enjoyment of not only captures but sessions also.

At school it was called homework (of which we hated) but this is for enjoyment and its all part of the jigsaw puzzle.

Jay started to grizzle that we were not angling yet, but with bright sunlight and low conditions i explained to him that it was an opportunity not to be missed. He said he understood, but was itching for us to drown a bait as soon as possible!

A few bits of bait were deposited in certain areas before we chose a spot not too far into the section.

We angled with just the one rod as it was a tight swim and not long after placing the bait a few dark shadows could be seen drifting in and out taking he odd morsel of bait.

On closer inspection, these turned out to be river carp, not massive, but pretty river carp.

Fully scaled, linears, commons and even a ghostie had drifted in for a bit of grub.

But apart from the odd tremble on the rod top, nothing gave us the wrap around we had hoped for.

We stayed put in that swim due to the activity in the hope that one might trip up, but alas, it didn't.

We fished till 4pm but just could not entice a take.

'Next time dad' Jason whispered to me, 'atleast we done our homework' and with that I replied 'yep', 'and your going home to do yours' and he just chuckled.

Bro shows me the way to go

2010-07-06T20:04:00.001+01:00

The pace on the syndicate stretch had dropped out even more than when i last visited just a few days earlier so with this in mind I decided to along with my brother visit a stretch on the only other ticket I have purchased this year.
The last couple of years i have managed to winkle the odd barbel from this beat to low doubles, Paul was yet to have one from it, with only chub being slid over his waiting net.

After stopping off for a healthy kebab on the way, as this was an after work session and time was not on our side. We were soon fighting our way through the mass of shoulder high stinging nettles, with mozzie's buzzing around our ears!

We both chose a couple of pegs towards the end of the beat that had a bit more flow than the rest of the stretch and were soon getting the odd tell tale tap from the crayfish that inhabit the river.

Paul had the first bite within an hour, which turned out to be a small chub.

For some reason, when I think I can get away with it have been throwing out two rods on slightly different methods just in case I'm missing out somewhere, but will only do this if the swim dictates that I can get away with it comfortably. Some of you might suggest that I'm doing myself no favours, but I'll learn.

Half an hour more past and the time was now 9.15pm when a shout could be heard from just upstream.

'I'm in bud' was the cry, so i wound in, grabbed the digital and lit a smoke and ambled my way to him.

Just as I entered the swim, there he was standing in the waters edge with his back lying against the bank complete with a barbel in the folds of the net.

'Is it a good un mate' I asked, 'looks good and hung on a bit' was his reply.

We rested the fish for five while we sorted slings, scales and his camera out he then lit a smoke of his own, sat down and gathered his thoughts while I quizzed him to the 'what on and where from'.

Soon the fish was being returned to its watery home after us recording a weight of exactly 9lb's and I left him to wallow in his glory.

On returning to my swim, I took five minutes out with a tea from the flask and waited for the glued pellets to dry as I pondered where to place them once again.
One rod went back out over the baited area and the left hand rod was placed just upstream with a bag attached and the rod top was tightened so that a drop back would show.

Time was running out and to be fair I didn't think a bite was going to come but thankfully it did and it was the upstream rod that bounced into life and after a short tussle a chub of around three and a half pounds was in the bag.
Angling is a confidence thing and I'm a firm believer in, that as long as your getting bites regularly then your doing it half right and sooner or later that big bite will come.

We both gave it another half hour or so but no more fish were forthcoming so I gave the call that it was time to face the nettles once again.

Top angling bro.

An old friend so soon

2010-06-24T20:25:00.002+01:00

As myself, my brother and the Intrepid piscator (Keith) strolled slowly across the fields yesterday evening happily chatting our tactics, the one thing came to light was the amount of different species that was available to us in this shortish beat of the Gt Ouse.
There was only one other car in the car park on our arrival at 7pm and we passed the said angler in peg 2 looking rather chilled out with rods poking skywards awaiting that tell tale bite.

Keith had decided to bring his cane rod complete with center pin and a simple tub of worms and fish for a few stripey's and ambled to the far end of the stretch.
Myself and Paul stopped halfway down in a section where a few trees scatter the far bank, the thinking behind this was with the weather so hot and the river very low, that the fish might just be held up in a bit of cover.

After about an hour I received a text from Kieth saying he had taken a couple of pristine looking perch and was getting a few chances also.

Paul had now moved from below me to above, and again a few texts were coming my way saying that it was like an aquarium in front of him, with chub, carp and a few roach boiling and taking the odd morsel from off the surface but the rods were quiet.

I had seen a couple of bream, carp and a tench scoot past me on the inside line moving from A to B but thus far the rod had remained quiet.
We had planned to fish till about 10.30 but at 11.05 I was stood at the waters edge complete with rod playing what turned out to be a chub.
After resting, unhooking and weighing one thing was noticeable........It was the same cheeky chevin that I had caught on Sunday morning with my son!!

The weight was 5oz lighter at 5lb 12oz, and although I'm not really into recaptures I was happy to get another bite from the stretch just to keep the confidence up.

I'll be back on the beat Saturday for a late one.

Lucky chevin on fathers day

2010-06-21T20:24:00.003+01:00

On arrival to the car park, my son Jason and I were surprised to see there were no other anglers present.

The plan was to fish the bottom end of the beat and work our way back towards the car park, but as we approached the swim that I managed the barbel from on the opening day I was suddenly drawn to it like a magnet.

This was Jay's first visit to the stretch and on his first sight he said as we walked across the fields "this looks sexy dad", I chuckled to myself and replied "lovely ain't it"

After getting him to crawl army fashion into the swim from the high bank we soon got settled in.

We didn't rush, I poured a cuppa from the flask to share, lit a smoke and proceeded to throw a small amount of baits into the area I intended place the hookbait.

The swim is low to the water with a hole in the reeds so that the rod can be poked through at a nice angle to the watery spot.

Rod was prepared and was soon angling, we'd been sat there probably twenty minutes enjoying the warm sunshine and chucking grass stems at each other when he piped up "you sure there's fish in here".

Again i chuckled and replied "patience boy"

As we were watching a couple of dragonfly's dancing past, the rod quivered a little before taking on a nice curved bite.

"Is it a barbel dad"? (Jays never been with me when I've had a barbus) "don't think so mate" I replied.

Soon we landed what turned out to be a bream of around the 4lb mark, "at least we've had something" he said.

A few more baits were thrown out and left to settle while i re baited the rod and prepared for our second cast.

We didn't have to wait to long before the rod end was trying to leave us, and the strike was met with a bit more resistance.

Jason was soon passing me the net and as the fish hit the surface for the first time, I could see it was a large Chub that would look more at home with a saddle strapped to it's back!

We left it in the net, resting in the margin of the swim, while I sorted the scales and the camera out.

6lb 1oz the reuben's recorded, and soon the fish was being returned after a couple of trophy shots taken by "Jason Bailey Burr".

After giving it another hour in that swim and with no other bites occurring, a move was then decided upon.

Again I decided upon a move to a swim that I had finished in a few days previous, a slightly faster current is on the far bank which kicks out from a near bank tree and this meets a slower moving near side of which in turn creates a crease.

New Zealand were playing Italy in the world cup and we sat there chatting and watching little taps on the rod tip that were being caused by Ronnie and Reggie!

We gave it until 4pm before the flask, juice and cheese sarnies had run out and enough was enough and trotted back to the car happy that we'd wet the net and had a good a good day of it.

My lucky geography jumper & floppy hat!

2010-06-17T20:12:00.008+01:00

As planned the alarm rang its god awful tune at 3.15am, clothes had been piled the night before so that was easy... June the 16th had finally arrived and with the new section fully in my mind, I scooted downstairs and flicked the kettle, my tea cup and flask had also been pre-baited the previous evening.

The journey to the Ouse from my house takes roughly half hour even with traffic so at 4am I should be able to fly?

Truck was loaded and off I set for my new challenge.

The plan was for me to angle from 4.30am till roughly 4pm and I'd be starting at the far end of the section and working my way back towards the car park by mid afternoon.

When we say 'this is the best time of day' there could be no truer statement, the fields are damp, the sun was making its way up and as I passed the herd of cows I thought to myself 'I wonder what they're thinking'?

From the car, the walk to the furthest swim is probably only ten minutes or so and as I neared I could not believe the amount of hares that were darting around in all directions.

My choice of swim was where the river narrows between nearside foliage and far bank bull rushes it looks a classic and as this was the first time I had angled here for barbel this was to be my starting point.

I took my time before casting out into the new season and was making the most of this special day in the angling world.

As I was baiting my rod I just happened to look up as a kingfisher whizzed past, he was obviously looking for his breakfast and would undoubtedly catch something before I did!

Rod was cast into position and with that I grabbed the flask and poured myself a tea, lit a smoke and toasted the river. A cuckoo then decided to sing its tune, I thought to myself 'can there be a better way to spend your day'?

'I think not'

Apart from the odd tap and rattle on the rod top from the crayfish (of which there are an abundance of in this section) nothing else happened. The time was now 8.30am and a move was decided upon.

After ambling up the river about 100yds my next port of call was a sexy looking bend with a far bank tree with a canopy that comes a quarter of the way across the waters surface.

I decided to take a chance in my new swim and angle with two rods, as the potential and offering looked too much for just the one carbon stick.

Rods were poked through the reeds and baits were placed either side of the feature, again I settled back and chilled out, taking in the new scenery.

9.15 and the right hand rod jabbed round, I panicked (first bite an all that) and struck at thin air!!!

I sat back, slightly miffed at the recent 'going ons', lit a smoke to re-gather my thoughts before gently casting the rod back into it's position.

I had just sat back down and before I had time to say 'barbel', I was into something!!

After duelling with 'Mr Fish' for a couple of minutes she was soon being slid over the waiting net, my legs were trembling a little (the first of the season does that to most anglers). After laying the net back down in the margin to let the fish recover for a moment I lit another smoke while 'I' recovered for a moment!

The weight does not matter one jot, the Ouse barbel are often hard to come by so all fish no matter the size are very welcome. 6lb 8oz was recorded, a couple of shots were taken before lying her back in the margin to recover a little more.

I continued to fish the swim until around midday; nothing else happened apart from the odd chublet tap, the sun was now at its warmest and I decided upon my final move of the day.

I passed another member on my way, he'd not even had a knock and was just lying back on the grass enjoying the sunshine and after a brief conversation I left him to it.

Swim three was a typical choice, with faster water racing through the far bank and slower,slacker water in my margin next to an old raft.

Back to one rod I went and placed it just a flick out, where the two currents met, I then just sat back and chillaxed.

There were no more happenings apart from 'our little clawed friends' taking a chance of a free meal and at 4pm I packed the kit away for another day.

As the title states... during the closed season I purchased a new 'floppy hat' and a 'jumper' only for my close friends to take it outta me.

Well now my friends... 'they are my lucky hat and geography jumper' and I'll continue to wear em!

It might just be the luck that's required.

Have a good season and above all........Enjoy!!

I'm excited!!

2010-06-14T22:00:00.004+01:00

As I sit and write this short piece there are twenty six hours left of the traditional close season.

The past few weeks have been spent cleaning tackle and preparing for the glorious 16th of June.

The last seven days I have walked the new beat a couple of times, looking for signs of activity to help me decide as where to start the my new 'quest'.

I have planned for a twelve hour session to see in the new season but am also using it 'just to get a feel for the place'.

New surroundings, new swims and new conquests are always head scratching times in the angling world and each session is a learning curve for the next session.

New faces and friends will be made complete with new tales of past and present.

The stretch has more features than you could 'shake a stick at' and a potential of multi species to good sizes of which include barbel, chub, perch, carp and pike.

A fish to suit all conditions is the overall view and this will dictate how I spend my time for the next twelve months.

Only two different tickets have been purchased for my running water fixation and this covers ample water to fulfill my passion for peace and quiet.

On my last reconnaissance trip just a couple of days ago I was taken back just a little as the beat is in quite a remote country side spot but as I wandered through the first six bar gate into the second field I was taken back by the sighting of a couple thirty yards away that were cavorting with no clothes on!!

Now as an avid angler I never gave them a second glance... Yeah right!!!

I casually strolled on through trying to keep my water eyes intact with the river so as not to lose the tinted colour through my glasses that is needed for fish spotting.

Further down the beat a 'splosh' was heard and on closer inspection, up from the depths popped a terrapin!Great I thought, obviously someone's unwanted pet, although sights like this are not seen in your everyday world by all - 'us anglers get all the best views ya know'.

Anyway, enough of my mutterings.....

I will try and keep the blog as up to date as possible for those of you that take the time out to 'follow my footsteps' of which I am grateful.

I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I do casting a line and writing about my happenings?

Sacrum:

2010-05-31T20:50:00.003+01:00

"He was a great friend of Charles Cotton of Beresford Hall, who built a fine fishing-house near the famous Pike Pool on the River Dove, over the arched doorway of which he placed a cipher stone formed with the combined initials of Walton and himself, and inscribed with the words 'Piscatoribus Sacrum.' - the words mean ‘sacred to fishermen’ and are also carved onto the 18th-century fishing temple beside Cromford Bridge.

A game of chess

2010-05-31T11:36:00.004+01:00

My tenching has been very hit and miss due to the time I have given it, nine acre pit for sure has a few that live there but how many and what size I'm not sure?

The numbers of bream in the water does not help the cause either as they seem to find the gourmet before anything else gets a chance.

The past few weeks the lake seems to have been busier than usual and some how lost its appeal and only fellow anglers will know what I'm talking about.

June the 16th is fast approaching and the excitement of running water is starting to grab hold of my thoughts...

I have three tickets for the Great Ouse all with varying potential for different species (barbel,chub and perch) with the odd chance of a fluke carp thrown in too.

So with tickets purchased I have now started to clean up the tackle and re-spool where needed.

The next couple of weeks will be spent tying rigs, getting the tackle to a bare minimum and sorting the baits that will be needed to hopefully net a few.

Evening walks will take place to try and get a feel for what lays ahead and hopefully a few fish of some description will be spotted (saying that, come the 16th they'll probably have vanished!!).

As anglers know only to well, this is what keeps our minds ticking.

Let the games begin.......

A pint of mags and a pot of worms

2010-05-18T22:26:00.004+01:00

It was Sunday morning and the alarm clock rang it's happy tune at 4.45am!

I was off to nine acre with a float rod and a feeder rod with the intention of catching whatever came along, armed with some hooker pellets, a pint of finest reds and a pot of worms.

The plan with the early start was to attack the margin with the hooker pellets for the first few hours with the hope that old tinca might fancy some breakfast.

Also I would be fishing a second rod of which would be a simple feeder set up, with regular casting armed with the red maggots.

The wind was blowing towards me from the west but there was also a few spots of rain with it, conditions looked good and I was there to chill out and enjoy.

Carp and cat anglers that had been there over night were packing up and slowly departing one by one.

The pellet rod was getting me the odd bite which turned out to be a few quality looking roach but as soon as they were on the feed they were off again and I presumed that a predator of some description had moved in?

I wound that rod in for a while and concentrated on the feeder rod which I was casting around thirty yards out to a shallower hump that was all of eleven feet in depth with an odd scattering of weed.

Bites were soon to be coming thick and fast - again it was the lakes vast roach population that were finding me the quickest but along with them came a hand full of skimmer bream and the odd perch.

Just after lunch there were just two anglers left bivvied up that were staying for another night in pursuit of their quest... the wind had picked up by this time and at one point big dark clouds were above my head and looking like a heavy shower was about to hit me bang on!

It was during this period of darkness that I decided to swap the float rod over from pellet to a big old juicy lobworm but continue to fish it over the area I had been baiting previously with the pellet and caster combination.

I continued to spray pouch fulls of maggot and casters above and around the float fished worm when all of a sudden the float bobbed and glided away.

A perch of about 12oz was netted followed by another half a dozen more all of which were similar size and all looking like peas in a pod.

The next bite turned out to be a jack pike between three and four pound that was luckily hooked in the scissors.

The switch to the worm in the darker conditions looked like it had payed off and it just shows it only takes a quick change to swap species to suit the conditions we're given.

I continued to fish on till 4.30pm, but before the feeding spell on the worm had slowed, I managed to hook and land a fine looking perch with bold black stripes of 1lb 12oz to end what turned out to be the last fish of the day and previously my biggest perch from nine acre pit.

I'm sure there's a surprise to be had, and I'm currently looking at a new method which might just unlock a few kippers for me!!

But I'll save that for another day.....

Be lucky!

Another wet night

2010-05-09T21:52:00.002+01:00

As usual I was in two minds whether to go?

I had walked nine acre pit on Friday evening to see a friend that was carp angling but also to see how many were on the lake and where they were situated.

A quite large north easterly wind was blowing up the lake but more importantly there were thirteen carp/cat anglers pitched up all round!

As well as being a tad on the windy side, the forecast was also giving persistent rain for the next twenty four hours!! After scrounging a couple of teas I bid the lads farewell and headed back to the gate to ponder on my way home as a few of the lads were departing on the Saturday but at this point I was still unsure as to what to do?

Saturday arrived and as promised the sky was full of rain and for a full view all I could see were clouds, big old dark ones!!

Out to the shed I popped, grabbed my tackle and bait bags... I wasn't planning on rushing "I'll get there when I get there" I muttered to myself even if it was evening time.

I eventually arrived at just after three that afternoon and again before doing anything else I went on the scrounge for a brew and also to find out if anything had been caught during the last twelve hours? As it happened a new member that was fishing the windward end of the lake had managed to hook himself his first wels catfish, all 63lb of it!!

The previous week a couple of tench had come from the shallower end of the lake and on this day it was also looking nice and sheltered,comfy and cosy (this thinking was probably against the grain but to be honest I didn't fancy the cold wind battered end of the lake!!).

It was with all this in mind that I headed for a nice little secluded swim that has of a channel of water between the bank and the island in front of me.

House erected, bed made and kit all put in its usual tidy place that it goes in most weeks (the OCD comes into place so that I know where to find it during the hours of darkness).

The left had rod was placed to the island margin and the right was under armed just down to my right to the left of the marginal snags in six feet of water.

By the time I had completed all this it was now time for a chillie that would be sat nicely on a bed of basmati rice!

By 9.30 I was tucked up in my bag with a niggling headache having a cuppa and a smoke just watching the world go by but not long after that I drifted off to sleep.

Just after 10.30 the left hand bobbin was up and away and with this I was out there bringing a bream of around the 7lb mark to the net.

Had they found me again?!?

The rain was still falling and had not really let up since I had arrived.

Rod re-baited and I was soon back in the warmth of my sleeping bag, the same rod was away again at 1.30am and led to the same outcome as before and at this point I had imagined that this was how it was going to be for the rest of the session.

All went quiet then and I awoke just before first light, rolled over, flicked the kettle on to await enough light to be able to see enough to replace the baits back on the spots, just after 5am I was back on the bed and I then dozed off until 7.15 am when I was ripped from my sleepy state as the right hand rod bounced into life.

Straight away I could tell that this was no bream as the fish was darting around all over the place with its tell tale twisting and turning.

After losing one the week before at the net I decided not to give it too much wellie at the dying stages.

All went to plan and soon enough I'd scored my first intended caught tinca since them early days some twenty years ago.

The weight (although it did not really matter) came in at 5lb4oz and was a female, but guess what? It had stopped bloody raining and the sun was poking through!!

A quick couple of self takes were done and with one last look the fish was soon returned.

I held on to try and dry the gear and had a slow pack up before quitting at just after 1 o'clock with no more action.

Did it matter? Did it hell!!

I'd had one and the sun was now shining!!

It rains, it pours....

2010-05-02T22:09:00.003+01:00

My mind was set just to angle from Saturday morning till Sunday morning but after doing a milk run to a carp angling buddy and viewing the lake I suddenly got the urge to wet a line.

So Friday tea time saw me dashing home, having a swill, mixing some bait and loading the truck and heading to the lake via the Chinese with my dinner in tow!

The lake was quite busy but was always going to be with it being bank holiday weekend.

My sweet and sour chicken and rice set me up nicely and I then began to tackle up in a nice little bay that does not get too much attention.... it is a deep bay with sloping margins and a few hanging trees that drape down to the waters surface.

The time was ticking away and I eventually got the rods placed and baited by 8.30.

It was now time to sit back, pour a cuppa, have a smoke and watch the water for any movement but most of all chillax.

This session I decided to head to the opposite end of the lake to last week as the bream were still making an appearance and I needed a little sleep!

All was quiet when headed for the sleeping bag and the confinement of my shelter, although the clouds were starting to collect and aiming our way.

I'm sure some anglers that go night fishing are actually scared of the dark?

The light pollution to my right caused me to turn over and face the back of my shelter, "turn em off lads" I don't want to see it!

No sooner had I got settled than the left hand rod bounced and shuddered into action as something tore off with my corn offering, it was now raining and looking very angry up above.

Into the net went a bream roughly six pounds in weight... was I in for a night of it or was this the lone ranger?

Rod re-baited, sod it, I'll have a cuppa and if a few had moved upon me then I might just get another quick bite. Nothing else happened until 1.30am and this also turned out to be another slab of around the same weight, it was now raining a little heavier and from the opposite side of the lake I could hear the sound of a fellow anglers alarm "that's good" I said to myself, "I'm not the only one to be getting pissed upon"!

While on the myth subject of it being good for fishing in the rain, I for one seem to struggle in the daylight hours while it pours but occasionally catch the odd something in a wet darkness.

But as for it being the best time to go, let me tell you " it ain't for me"!

I managed a couple of solid hours sleep before the same rod sang its tune but this time the culprit was a roach of around 12oz. I will just say here that I'm expecting to catch all sorts while fishing the method I am so will have to take the rough with the smooth and after all... a fish is a fish!

Back in bed by 4am and it was there I stayed till roughly 5.15 when again the left had rod was attached to something that was adamant on getting into the nearby bush that was hanging to my immediate left.

A little bit of pressure applied and yet another bream was lying in the net and although I didn't actually weigh it, she looked to be near the double figure mark. It mattered not and it was from this point onwards I decided to stay up, re-bait both rods and also set up the float rod and try some early morning pellet fishing to see if I could entice my quarry a different way?

At 7am, just as I was pouring my third cuppa, the right hand rod took on a slightly faster take and straight away I knew it felt different.

This rod had been placed down my right margin and across a bit next to a small bush, of which it tried its hardest to reach, but old Birdy weren't having any of that!

And it was maybe this that caused what was about to happen next?

On grabbing the net and looking down into the margin I could see my target just taking its last gulp, when all of a sudden my stonze weight, flew over my head causing me to duck n dive! The tench was gone and although not huge, I guessed it to be roughly five pounds or so?

This was what I was after but luck this time was not on my side. "Can't do nothing about it now, its gone" I muttered to myself. All good things come to those who wait and lets be honest here, one day it'll happen?

Saturday turned out to be quite a nice day weather wise, but some anglers went and other anglers arrived. I sat and dabbled with the pellet rod enjoying the sun and even managed to catch a good few roach, oh and even a couple of hungry gutted pike that found a liking for my prize as I wound them in.

The rods on the feeders went quite during the day so it wasn't until 6pm that I baited and set the traps for the following night.

Job was done and I then set about cooking my dinner which consisted of (for those of you that are interested!) sausages, potatoes of the new variety and some peas!!

Come nine o'clock that evening, a couple of rumbles of thunder with an odd lightening strike had clapped above me. By ten I was in my cozy bag watching rain drops bounce from the waters surface, my little radio could not be heard due to the noise being made as it hit my little nylon house.

Sod this I thought to myself and decided to get some sleep just in case anything decided to go on the munch.

Nothing did and the rain stayed on all night even to the point of filling my footwear up as I'd left them to near to the bivvy door in case a sharp exit was needed!

Like most, I hate packing up in the rain and by 10 am I was loading the car soaked to my skin and still tenchless!

It rains, it pours!

A new challenge

2010-04-27T21:58:00.004+01:00

Although I have other species on my mind at present, my mind is thinking forward to June 16th.

Myself and a couple of friends have been given the chance to angle on a thirty man syndicate stretch of the Gt Ouse in Bedfordshire.

One of the said friends has fished it in years gone by, but not for a few.

I personally have only wet a line there a couple of times in search of anything that would bite but this challenge is going to be different but also likely to get the brain ticking as the said stretch, as a lot of the Ouse (and most other running waters), has been ottered out over the last couple of years and not forgetting the 2007 floods which seems to have also pushed the fish elsewhere.

Barbel will be my main chase but also this beat holds some good chub and also some carp which are rarely fished for.

It's times like this when a new challenge excites the angler and only anglers understand my thoughts and directions. The effort and excitement that is involved every year by anglers of all experiences can't be explained to non angling types.

So with baited breath, although I'm lake fishing at present, my mind is already planning its attack for the new challenge.

And if I get one, it will be another special moment in what is an ever changing pastime that we call angling.

I'll let you know.....

"Shut that up will ya Dad"

2010-04-25T21:11:00.008+01:00

Where to start?!?

The session as planned to nine acre pit, started as a chilled out affair... I decided to have a stroll round and scrounge a couple of teas en route. Jason was itching to get fishing but understood that there was no need to rush.

After scrounging a tea or two, we decided to head to our chosen swim, the area is a nice little secluded plot with nice marginal bushes and a small island straight ahead. The plan was just to fish margin spots either side in the hope that if there were any tench about they would hopefully be patrolling up and down the marginal shelf.

The weatherman was giving it warm, so with this in mind we began to get our house up and complete before it got too hot.

On this occasion I was using 1.75 test curve rods, coupled with my small bait runners and ten pound line was order of the session. "why line so heavy for tench" you might be wondering? Well this particular lake has carp to just over forty pounds and catfish to just under seventy pounds!! Ok, I would still have no chance of landing such beasts in the tighter area swims but in open water scenarios I might have a chance.

Bait was mixed up at home the previous night and this consisted of a method mix with all sorts of goodies thrown in including casters, hemp, corn and broken down boilies.

A short rig with fake corn was on one rod and a double 10mm boilie completed rod two.

Rods were baited and the first casts were made late afternoon and left to settle ready for the time that is dusk. Not long after these casts were made it was soon apparent how things were going to turn out. As it was Saturday, some anglers departed soon to be replaced by more.

By 6pm, two roach and one bream had been caught... it was noticeable already that if this continued then we were in for a long and busy night!

Two tins of hot dogs were tipped into the pan and a fresh baguette was cut in half and filled with eight dogs each and while I was trying to make the most of such a splendid dinner the right hand rod gave a stuttered take.

Bream number two was landed and my hot dog and cup of tea was now cold!!

Now without a blow by blow boring account, let me just say here that by ten o'clock that night we had landed thirteen fish which included three roach and ten bream! The bream were all in the 7/8lb bracket with all of them falling for the double 10mm offerings, with the corn rod only producing roach.

At 10.30 I managed to get Jason settled into his sleeping bag, but liners continued and we both had trouble getting our heads down. A couple of friends were fishing the opposite bank and thought I was running a brothel as all they could see was my little red head torch coming on at regular intervals!!

During the dark hours after midnight I managed another couple of bream, but my hopes for a tench were all resting on first light.

I must confess here that at 3am I wound the boilie rod in as enough was enough and I needed some shut eye. The quiet corn rod was left out and I managed to see the back of my eyelids until a pair of fighting randy geese decided to wake me up at 5.15!!!

Both rods were re-baited and no sooner had the kettle boiled than the bream rod was off again, and with that I heard a little voice from the bivvy "Shut that up will ya Dad" "All night"! With that he buried his head again!!

Not long after first light the Heavens opened and the bites dried up and this twenty four hour session ended with 4 roach, 14 bream and no tench!

Next time we'll have em!!

Its Spring....... get out there!

2010-04-22T19:46:00.005+01:00

Now, the die hard traditionalists will be at home sorting their tackle ready for a June 16th start.

Personally I will be (at least for the next three months) angling for tench on the local home water that I bailiff then come the 16th I will more than likely head back to the Gt Ouse trying my wits against the getting more elusive barbel.

It's a shame really as I remember in years gone by the buzz the three month lay off created and all the preparation that went with it... cleaning the tackle down, re-spooling reels and thinking about baiting strategies, along with this there was also the recce trips around lakes and local canals.

It now seems however that the months between March and June can't be missed and are classed as one of the best times of the angling season to put that maybe fish of a lifetime on the bank.

In my eyes, spring is the time of year that things start to wake up after the long winters that we now receive. Not only the fish, but the trees, flowers, birds and the dreaded mozzies! Longer days, misty mornings and glorious sunrises all add to the spice that is angling.

Come the 15th of June I will buzz with anticipation once again as the urge of running water takes over but until then I will enjoy the spring and do my best to outplay our scaly friends.

Baiting has commenced and attack has been planned.

2010-04-21T22:15:00.002+01:00

I am still sticking to my plans of chasing the "doctor" fish.

A couple of times this week I have visited the nine acre pit and baited with a few handfuls of tit bits in certain areas of the margins. The plan is to fish the spring months chasing the tench that nobody seems to angle for.

Rods are rigged up and baits have been selected; myself and my son plan to fish for the unknown this coming Saturday for a twenty four hour session.

On walking the lake this evening one thing is noticeable........ it's still bloody nippy when the sun drops from view and the temp reading when back at the truck was saying four degrees.

Its looking pretty as a picture up there and things are waking up and the trees are budding.

Lets hope the fish like the gourmet i am offering.....

I'll inform you of my findings!!

No success but not a failure

2010-04-19T21:19:00.003+01:00

The 11.55 night crossing from Dover to Calais was met and now it was time for a good drive through the night with three excited ten year olds in the back of the truck.

We had decided to take the scenic route to try and avoid the nightmare that is Paris. On doing this, complete with three stops and a lengthy fourth for a much needed rest as no sleep kicked in at about five in the morning!

We eventually arrived at Chapel lake at midday(ish)!! We were totally wrecked and then Tony the owner of the lake arrived to give us a tour of the venue and to tell us a little history.

Eighteen acres surrounded by woodland was now ours for the week.

Swims were chosen all in close proximity of each other for all in all it was going to be a social for us and any fish would be a bonus as we had planned that the young un's would wind in most of the takes.

One thing that didn't look too promising was the weather, some of the days were sunny but with that came cold easterly winds with temperatures dropping like a stone come the evenings/nights.

That first day went like a blurr due to tiredness, but that first tea time one of the lads had a far bank run which turned out to be a small common carp and with that sort of start we thought/expected to have a bagging week!!

A few drinks were had before we turned into the bags, but one thing that was noticeable was..... it was a dark surround.

Quiet, dark and in the middle of nowhere with only the odd squawk to be heard, if nothing else we would have a chilled week with the surroundings we had been given!

First light came and that first morning told us that warm clothing would be the order of the week.

Time had now come to go and venture out into the lake by boat to have a poke and a prod to look for some likely looking areas as the first days efforts were nothing more than pub casts that left the reels in more of a lets hope sort of way!!

The main body of the lake of which used to have a predominant river bed running through it was now six feet deep with a couple of feet of silt below it, hmmm! On boating across to the far marginal snags it soon become apparent that from a couple of rod lengths from the far bank the bottom changed from silt to gravel/sand and a rocky make up. Carp anglers are suckers for this type of area and we were to be no different.

At this point I will just say.... that maybe we'd be proved wrong?

Baits were rowed out and placed on the rests and now it was time to set three float rods up to keep the young un's happy to compete for the roach that occasionally pitted the surface. Now this little game turned out to keep me busy for most of the week due to hook losses, tangles and mega lines wrapped around the backs of spools! The boys were happy and left to their own devices most of the week, whether it was fishing, wandering off into the surroundings to find wood to whittle or just to play hide and seek (although my son Jason didn't like it much when a free roaming Shetland pony chased after him!!).

Donkey's, chicken's and even Limousin cows were roaming free and with the odd sighting of a white heron and the twit twoo from from a local owl in the far bank tree's all was well in the world.

Now, this is not the bagging up tale it could have been with just the odd run coming between us over the period of the week. Different rigs and baits were tried and by the law of sod, three days in and I was singing in the shower of which at this point I will say was pukka apart from the mad dash at the end of it to get off the cold cobbled stones with the cool air temperature.

It turned out that the rod I had set up with my lad in mind who is left handed (yes, reel handle on the wrong way!) had melted off ninety yards away!!

Although I could not see this happening when later told the story it turned out that one mate was holding the rod while another was turning the reel handle! With this sort of heath robinson affair going on, I hasten to add that a very large fish was lost about thirty yards out due to a hook pull!

Some you win, some you lose!!

Still, I was there to relax and nothing was going to faze that.

A couple of fish had to be landed by boat due to fishing tight to snags but again these only turned out to be small ones but over a few days all three lads had wound a fish in and to see them smile while holding a French carp was a picture in itself and something you or I probably never got to do when we were their age and something that will stick in their memories for ever and you never know, they might even travel down through France on their own as a trio of mad keen carp anglers simulating their fathers? Lets hope so!!

Due to the weather being so cold considering we were only about three hours from Spain, one good blow of a southerly might have been a different story for us, but it was not to be and with this we decided to head for our own shores a day earlier than planned.

But on that last morning at 4am one of the party netted what turned out to be the biggest of the trip at 36lb that slipped up on a light linked pop up rig from yes you've guessed it.....the sloppy silt in the middle of the lake! So maybe, just maybe we got the plan of attack wrong? Who knows?

If not for the chilling winds, the company was great, the lake was pretty as a postcard the region was at peace but most of all, to go camping with your son and let him be a lad with angling intent and to experience this sort of trip, well that was enough on this occasion.

We will no doubt return again one day of that I'm sure.

Planning for memories

2010-03-23T19:26:00.005Z

Having not been across the water for a few years, the chance of a weeks angling has arisen through work and a generous customer.

Come the 7th of April, 2 trucks complete with a trailer and too much gear will be heading to Chapel lake, 5 hours plus from the port of Calais. Four adults and three children all set for 18 exclusive acres surrounded by woodland and hopefully some nicer weather to that we've been used to here in the UK the past few months!

Not having Carp fished since August 2009 the day came when I had to start sifting through a mountain of tackle, taking out gear that would not be needed. Now, is it just me or do we all carry 9lb of lead?!?!

A mouldy mug was retrieved from the food bag and one tube of mustard and one bottle of ketchup was lobbed directly in the biffa due to a content of fur!

Over the last couple of years I have reduced my tackle down (apart from leads) in as much as I take the same for a quick over nighter as I do for a couple of three days and really only take stuff that I intend using... even then its still too much!

So... I have two weeks of planning for me and my son, bait to be sorted, rigs to be tied, food bag to be filled, tablets for every formality that might be likely to happen, oh and two passports to remember!

My old grey matter is working overtime at present and I find that the planning and preparation for any of my angling expeditions is as enjoyable as the angling itself... it's all part of the jigsaw and learning curve that is fishing and for me that creates the buzz of success and failures of each and every session, whether it be fishing for the smaller species like roach, chub and perch or the monsters that be carp, catfish and barbel.

Anyway, enough of my mutterings... I have to get on and continue sifting through mould and look forward to the evenings sat by Le Lac, sipping red wine and filling up on crusty baguettes with good company and hoping that myself and the rest of the lads bag a few, but most of all...... catch some memories!

(Memories that I will update in three weeks time for those that might just be a little interested).

Last opportunity knocks

2010-03-15T20:25:00.003Z

I'm sure you've all had thoughts in your head of wanting to angle but not sure where?

Well the weekend that saw the official closing to our native rivers in the UK was one of those said occasions for me! The last day being Sunday 14th March and even to the point of me leaving my drive I was still unsure as to where to go.

All I knew was that I was heading for the Gt Ouse somewhere in Bedfordshire.

20 minutes later I signalled right with my indicator and eventually pulled up near a stretch that I had winkled a couple of fish out of earlier in the year.

The forecast for the day was bright and sunny am with the chance of cloud due pm.

Now, I wasn't really expecting to catch too much (if anything at all) and it was more about seeing the season out for another year and willing on the new after a 3 month close! I had packed 1 rod for the chub and one rod for the barbel and would make my mind up on what to chase after the swim had dictated my best chances.

Having struggled on the barbel front with my last fish being caught in September time, I was keen just to catch one more if I could and at this point I would like to add.... I wasn't overly hopeful...!!

Gathering my gear from the truck and fighting with the padlock on the gate I headed for the river, the time was now 7.30am and as soon as I had cleared the trees a stiff, cold breeze hit me in the face. The river was low but the clarity looked good for a bite from something? The sun was now trying to get through, now that's not something we've said for what seems like an age and even if I didn't manage to catch, I was dam sure I was going to enjoy the day. I'm one of those people that although I fish all year round, still likes the idea of a close season on our rivers to allow nature to do its thing.

I walked past a couple of pegs and then stopped at one that I knew had a record of chucking up a good un earlier in the year to a friend, and although a fairly open swim it had a good depth to it and a nice pace. Out came the Whisker rod, coupled with the cardinal that was already set up with a free running link, I took three pellets and glued them onto the short hair that was attached to a size 6 hook. A small p.v.a bag of pellet was then hooked on and a short under arm cast was made to the centre of the river at the end of a crease that was being created by a near bank bush.

It was now time to sit back and enjoy the sun with a smoke and cuppa!

An hour had passed and not even the slightest of taps had been had. The wind had picked up and was blowing straight at my face causing my eyes to stream, so with that I decided a move was needed to somewhere I could shelter a little to at least enjoy the sun without crying my eyes out!!

It turned out that I ended up in the very last peg in a more wooded area of the river and on entering the swim, straight away it felt two overcoats warmer and for an extra bonus I had the large bow of a tree to shelter me. Nice!!

After going through the same routine with the tackle, only this time I decided that I would put the barbel rod down to my right in a likely looking spot that I can remember seeing gravel on earlier in the year. I also made the decision to set the chub rod up with a lighter set up and attach a worm to see if I could tempt a chub or a perch.

I was just sitting back and watching both rod tips when all of a sudden I spotted a mink on the far margin scooting down the bank and it was at this point from the corner of my eye that I went into angler panic mode when the tip on the barbel rod whacked down towards the surface of the river.

"This is a proper un" I muttered to myself as the fish tried it's hardest to head down river.

The clutch on the 55 yelped a couple of times before I managed to get the fish under control and heading in my direction, at this point the mink had done the off and was probably thinking to himself that it all looked a little to much hassle this fishing lark!!

Soon enough my prize was lying in the net recovering for five minutes while I calmed myself down with a smoke and at this point I rang the old fella who was fishing further upstream to tell him of my news and could he come and take a couple of pictures for me and help with the weighing.

I was now thinking to myself that this funny old game we call fishing was definitely a funny old game!!

"She looks a double in the net Dad" I said to him as he entered the swim (at this point I still hadn't taken it out of the water). With the unhooking mat in place and the scales reading zero we weighed and confirmed a new personal best of 12lb 10oz. Hands were shaken and pictures taken, we then laid her in the margin still in the folds of the net to recover until she was ready to go home.

I certainly was not expecting what had just happened but I'll take it for sure and it's moments like this that remind me why I go angling... the last opportunity, the sun was shining and I had cracked out a personal best to end the year on.

It don't get much better than that!!!

An ill wind

2010-03-06T21:22:00.005Z

On arrival at the lake this morning one thing was noticeable, anglers were littered in little green tents all along the east side chasing the carp that inhabit the 9 acre pit. It was from this side of the lake that the wind was pushing so as it turned out, myself and my son Jason headed down the west side to a swim named "killer cat"!! We were armed with the usual feeder rods and an array of bait. Maggot, hemp and worms were the order of the day.

Once settled in it was soon noticeable that someone was cooking bacon on the far bank, all we had was a flask of tea, some chocolate biscuits, 2 bags of beef monster munch and a pepperami each!!

This was the busiest I'd seen the lake for a good couple of months and even the birds couldn't work out what the hell was going on!!

Back to our day and as expected the usual pattern followed with a quiet first hour followed by regular bites occurring. Many a small roach was hooked on the maggot feeder rig and as Jason was just chilling back and trying to keep his hands warm by resting them in his pockets, his 10ft rod arched round and a slightly bigger roach of about 12oz was slid into the waiting landing net. From this point onwards this said fish turned out to be his vocal abuse for the rest of the day... "It's not as big as mine Dad" as every time I swung one in he'd remind me that it was smaller than his!

Still, it was a joy to see his face and brings back distant memories from my boyhood days when I too can remember the feeling and the buzz they'd given me, each and everyone of them.

We were catching steadily and i even managed a little jack pike that took a liking for a double red maggot feast! Both of us missed a few chances with the hookbaits coming in looking like a sucked sock!! Roach were the main build up of our catch but we also managed a handful of immaculate rudd.

As I was just pouring us a tea to share from the flask, from the corner of my eye I saw a 10ft length of carbon whip upwards and to the right, "Blimey Dad, this feels better", "Take your time mate and play him in gently, if he wants some line let him have it" I replied. All went to plan and soon we had a stripy perch lying in the net of about 14oz that was fin perfect.

Well that was it now... Iwas getting all manner of remarks thrown at me, but at the very least it had taken our minds away from the the easterly wind as we sent abuse backwards and forwards to each other.

For the last hour i decided to bin the maggot attack and go all out for the big one just to shut him up!

I was just gathering some tackle together and having a bit of a tidy up when my whole lobworm offering was hit by something that had decided to keep going until it had pulled the rod from the rest! A short battle followed and on Jason's first sight of the trailing pike as it hit the back of the net all I heard from his lips was "Pike don't count dad". I chuckled to myself as I thought...... God he takes after me!!

With that capture we decided to call it a day and nipped round to the sunny side of the lake that was two overcoats warmer and scrounged a fresh brew from a carp angler that could've been sitting there in shorts and flip flops it was that hot, while we were wrapped up like kippers thanks to the "ILL" wind that blew from the east.

A pair of Ace's

2010-02-28T22:48:00.005Z

Means as though I had a bailiffs meeting at 10am, there was no need to rush about so bread was thrown into the toaster, kettle was fired up and I was soon pondering as to whether or not put the tackle in the truck? It was belting it down with rain as I looked out of the kitchen window and a North Easterly wind was blowing. Do I or don't I?? Conditions were not looking the best. "Sod it, lets have go for a few hours".

In it to win it and all that!!

Gear was loaded and the flask was made, I then grabbed a bar of chocolate and off I ttrotted.

The meeting did not take too long and I was angling by 11.30. I decided to sit on the back of the wind and fish to the end of an island that was hopefully giving our scaly friends a bit of shelter?

The rain was still tipping it down and the outflow pipe at the far end of the lake was now actually an inflow pipe and the water was actually bubbling as it was pushing from the pipe back into the lake and even a spray could be seen such was the force!! With this happening it led to all swims actually being flooded and things were not looking too good at all!

Up with the brolly, get comfortable and make the most of it, at least it was fresh air. To begin with I decided to feeder fish to the island and put a second rod being a float rod down the margin to my right and just let it sleep with the off chance of maybe picking up a decent perch. Things were quiet for an hour or so and my worm and maggot cocktail that was being fished to the island margin had not had a single knock, smaller hook was taken from the tackle bag, worm taken off and replaced with two juicy maggots. Have some of that!!

Not long after the change, one or two taps started to appear on the rod tip and soon enough I started to swing a few small roach and perch into my waiting hand. The float rod that was fishing with a prawn was not looking too lively either so this was changed to half a lob tipped with a fluro pink imitation maggot!! Sounds more like it should be at a disco than at a lake!

As the hours passed with the rain still falling small fish were still coming to the feeder with the odd 10 to 12oz roach making it pleasing to the eye when all of a sudden out of the blue the float shot off like a ski, "eh up" it was not the hoped for 3lb plus perch but a toothy water crock of about 4lbs and on light tackle it gave me a good run around that Zola Bud would of been proud of. Mr pike returned safely and looking out and up it seemed that the sky was clearing so to celebrate a brighter looking day I grabbed the flask and saluted four geese as they splashed past squawking as they went.

While enjoying my PG tips and having a smoke the tip on the feeder rod gave a promising bang round that was different to any other I had witnessed and the strike was met with a more promising pull from whatever was attached the other end...

Soon she rose up from the deep margin and on first sight I thought "that's got to be two pounds plus". A quick weigh and the needle settled and said 1lb 14oz. She was in mint condition and worthy of a quick picture, then one last look before slipping her back. Happy days!

After that capture I decided to reel the float rod in and just concentrate on the feeder rod, just maybe a few better fish had started to find the dinner table?

The next hour or so saw a few more roach up to the 12oz mark come to the maggot offering but, as before, a different and more savage bite occurred and this proved to be the last bite of the day which turned out to be another immaculate looking roach which weighed in at 1lb 4oz to complete a very enjoyable end of February day made complete with a pair of ace's!!

Learning new tricks!!

2010-02-24T19:05:00.006Z

After being picked up at 4am sat nav was saying two and a half hours to destination. We were heading North West to the beautiful Teme valley for a guiding lesson and a giggle with good company. We pulled up in the arranged pub car park to find a guy stood outside his van brushing his teeth! "Morning" he said, get out your breakfast gear, put a brew on and chill out for half hour, then we'll wander into the pub to get the tickets. "rivers looking nice" he said and i'm Trefor and you must be my students for a couple of days? Tref was about 5' 4" complete with hat and boots and from that point on I knew it was going to be a little bit of an experience and nothing too serious. Now, Tref's been angling a long old time and knows every trick in the book, so off we trotted to get the tickets, then back into the car for the two minute drive over the road with us following, up a lane to a gated field "shut the gate behind you" he shouted! Now we were driving straight through a field only to be greeted by about fifty cows! Before we can bed down for the night we're going to have to move them out of here and into the next gated field!! I'll go in the middle you two take the left and the right, and we'll herd them up the field and through the next gate! Great i thought, this old boys having a laugh. After about fifteen minutes and the cows all split up like the red arrows we decided that we would sleep in the next field and leave them to it, boots were now covered in crap and a little bit sweaty and I looked at Steve and we rolled our eyes and just chuckled.

We opened the boot on the truck and this time Tref rolled his eyes, "bloody hell, your going home tomorrow" get one rod, one net and your tackle bag leave the rest in the car". "Follow me".

First view of the river from its steep red stained banks and it looked awesome with its twisting slow moving bends flowing into fast shallow rapids before settling down into a long straight which looked as though the depth evened its self out at a nice pace with trees littering the bank at intervals. Tref insisted that we put our kit down once a quarter of the way through the field and told us to tackle the rods up with a straight forward running set up with a 2oz lead complete with a braided hair rig with no loop, with this he opened his bait bucket, grabbed four or five good hand fulls and told us to put them in our pockets and take three out for baiting the hook and lobbed a tube of superglue us, stick them on like this and let em dry while I tell you the plan!

The sequence was this.......... park your bum in the swims I suggest, put the hookbaits out and throw in thirteen freebies, give it twenty minutes and if no knocks or taps have occurred then move down the field and repeat the sequence again... "We'll have em".

We walked past a certain area to begin with while we angled further down the beat and in this time Tref walked back to it and baited the margin of which was only 18" deep and the far bank had a fallen willow. Fifteen minutes past only for us to hear a shout of "wind in lads and bring one rod and a net with ya"! On finding Tref standing on a high bank looking down into the shallow margins pointing like a crazy thing! Chub coming in from the left, 1, 2, 3. Barbel coming across from the willow, "give it five then abseil down the bank and perch yourself on the tree trunk but go quietly and I'll tell you when to lower the baited rod, but first let me mold this big chunk of plasticine 2ft up from your lead". This old boy ain't all there I thought but it's his rules so I'll abide. "Right, go, lower it in about there" he said while flicking two pellets out, get yourself comfortable and I'll narrate as to what is happening from up here but be prepared for the unexpected he chuckled. Right Derren its going to go any minute get ready to whack it!! With that my arm was nearly wrenched from its socket and a big puff of silt exploded and the fish boiled on the surface for a bid to freedom to the far bank cover. Soon i was in a very uncomfortable position wobbling on the tree trunk rod in one hand, net in the other try my hardest not to fall in and have them giggle at me like a pair of kids. Luckily for me all went well and my first Teme barbel was stalked, weighed and returned. "Who says you cant catch em in daylight hours? you just got to find em, and feed them a little and then whack em boy!" "come on, back to the sequence and we'll try here again on our way back". Derren 1, barbel 0........Thanks Tref, you ain't as silly as you look Ithought.

The moral of this tale and it goes for all types of angling is..........

Keep it simple and find em!!!

Going back in time

2010-02-21T20:32:00.003Z

I think I was about 7 years of age and all I can remember was sitting under my fathers 45" umbrella that was wrapped with a clear plastic cover and held down by a couple of home made pegs. A pair of 1.25 rods complete with mitchell 300's on a set of old heron type buzzers. Bait was par boiled spuds fished with a scattering of jolly green giant!! We were sat between a pair of tree/bushes on a small sand pit in the heart of Bedfordshire and the rain was coming down when one of the old fellas home made bobbins (I say home made as they were in fact fairy liquid bottle tops) hit the rod butt. After a small amount of commotion and dad saying "get the net lad" there in the bottom was a smooth green fish with red eyes.

"It's a Tench mate, get the little scales and the bag from the bottom of my seat box while I unhook her". This particular catch was 4lb 8oz and I can remember dad getting an old rag from one of his well used tackle bags and holding and returning it to the water with the use of a wet rag and not allowing his dry hands to touch his prize. In those days we used to sit up most of the night with huge expectation sipping tea from a flask and waiting for day break as the best time for a Tench (according to the books) is dawn. Still mornings, allow the best viewing for fizzing,bubbling and occasional Tench rolling!

Moving on in time and it's now February 2010, the weather has been cold, wet and horrid since I don't know when and my thoughts are already thinking about chasing "old red eye" for the first time in many a year come the spring. Thoughts of un-caught doubles are lighting the fires and have set my mind ticking on how to outwit such fish!

Tackle has changed but thankfully not too much, the basics are still the same as they ever were and I for one can't wait to be sitting under my brolly on a damp and misty spring morning waiting to rekindle those same thoughts from 1977 when as a boy, my eyes first set sight on a red eyed Tinca!!