Wednesday Blues

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

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

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

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...................

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........

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

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

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

..................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

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.....................