It's Been A While.

It's been seven years come March since I last sat down and wrote on these pages, it wasn't that I didn't want to write anything, I was just out of the habit so to speak. You know what its like, I was moving house and changing my job slightly back then, and that took me off in a different direction for a while.

 I've very often thought over the last few months of getting the blog back up and running so here I am, I just hope that some of you are still about to peruse my mumblings? So where do I start?

I'll kick things off with a tale of an afternoons Perching trip to my local canal, pre winter while I was waiting for the Gt Ouse chub to hopefully fatten up.

It was a Thursday afternoon, the weather had been changeable to say the least, and I remember checking the forecast on my phone over the latter end of the previous week. low pressure was upon us, thick black clouds were being swept by with the increasing winds and intermittent heavy downpours but I had booked the afternoon off so was adamant that I was going regardless of the conditions, I'd just have to chance my arm and if need be, hang on to the brolly if things became to bad to angle without (I hate using umbrellas).

There's a particular section that draws me back, a section that I grew up on as a young lad, spending most of my school holidays and weekends there during my early angling years, in to my teens and beyond. Anyway, the section of canal is a rather long pound, probably from lock to lock I'd guess at around 3 miles as the crow flies so all that swims could potentially be anywhere along its length. In the weeks leading up to this trip I had been trying my luck a little further up the towpath but had started to get the odd repeat capture so the decision was made to move a good half  mile or so and this is where I'll begin.
  

If possible I'll nearly always try to find a swim that gives me at least a couple of options as sometimes a quick change of tact can bring that one bite that turns your trip in to a successful one.
Marinas, far margin trees, bushes and brambles, but  more often than not I'll always try and find a marginal boat that has been moored up for at least a few days and if no one is present even better!

Minimal kit in the form of a lightweight chair in which I slip my pan net, a rod bag, small tackle bag and a small brew kit type bag that carries my bait.
Speaking of bait, the majority of my Perch trips are very often with light tip type rods 9-11ft so I tend to keep things simple with an old school worm and maggot approach. I'm bullish to a degree, a five pound mainline directly through to either a size 10 or 8 hook, a small running feeder bead with two rubber grip type stops determine  my hook link  length (that'll be the match lads squirming).
Two full Lobworms (just nipped off) are held in place with a red rubber maggot "simple"
Angling is all about the enjoyment, and I absolutely love fishing behind tip rods no matter the species I'm chasing, Perch, Chub, Barbel etc......

Anyway, back to the day in question.... If I can, I try and give myself a couple of hours continuous baiting before the witching hour (the last hour before dusk) very often the tips have not moved but as soon as that last 45 minutes to an hour arrives then things potentially start to come to life and this day was exactly that.

I remember sitting there spraying maggots, a pouch full down the side of the boat to my right margin, and a pouch full to the far bank bramble, right up on the far shelf, and it was at this point as the maggots were still in mid flight that rod on the boat took on a jig jagged, tell tale pull round.

The little 9ft wand is magical when playing a decent sized Perch, and from the off I could tell that I was connected to a good un. A typical feisty battle pursued but all went well and I soon had my first 3lb plus canal Stripe in the back of the net.

I unhooked and weighed her quickly, she was in perfect condition and at 3lb 2oz I was content, I then placed her back in the net and laid her down the margin to rest up.

3lb 2oz of pristine pizza slice.

It was now a little after 4pm, and I knew that my eldest was finishing work so I dropped him a text to say that I'd had a good fish and he kindly diverted to the towpath to come and find me.

Whilst Carl was on route, I rebaited the hook and placed the rod back down the margin  along side the barge and once again sprayed more maggot over the top, the far margin also received a pouch full plus a little lift n lower trick, I do this if the spot has been quiet and then give it another five to ten minutes and if it still doesn't move, I then wind in, check the worm and hook for debris before recasting.

Shortly after resetting the far side rod,  I had literally just screwed the lid back down on the brew flask when a quick sharp bite registered once again down the near edge, then it settled again and went quiet!

Three or four minutes later and there was no mistaking that something had taken off once again with my free worm offering?

The fight was short lived and soon my second chunky Sarge was being bundled in to the net, this turned out to being a little tricky as its sister was still in there. All went to plan though, I then unhooked, weighed and gave her a number of 2lb 12oz " fantastic" 

My tea was near cold by now, but before sitting and taking the moment in, I once again rebaited both rods and shortly after that Carl arrived. " I've had another mate" he smiled and replied "Go on boy"

Back to the flask and we sat there chatting, catching up whilst having a cigarette when you've guessed it..... but this time it was the far margin rod that had been quiet since my arrival that sharply pulled round before falling slacker and slacker. On picking up the rod and feeling that initial head shaking I knew once again that a Perch was doing its very best to rid the hook. Carl looked at me, shook his head and said " You're a jammy git" I just laughed and said " get the net, but be careful"

On picking up the pan net to prepare for landing I could tell that he was a little like " what am I supposed to do here then? 

Thankfully all went ok and a third was slipped in to the folds, high fives made and Sarge was unhooked.

The scales revealed 2lb 3oz and I muttered to boyo "that will do me for today"

With that the photo studio was set up, I quickly did my hair,  put my hat on and was soon smiling for the clicker before returning three glamorous stripes back to their watery home.  

Me? Well I quit while I was ahead, myself and Carl said our farewells, I threw the kit back in its respective bags and made the short journey back home delighted with the outcome of the afternoons Autumnal events.

Until next time.

Hungry like the horse

It was a funny old Christmas and New year, mainly because a tooth decided to give me a bit of grief and turned itself from an ache to an infection in to a fully blown abscess, great!!!

What with work and family commitments it was difficult to find the time to get out and drown a bait, even on the days that I had planned to, the weather was blowing a gale and hissing it down so I ditched the idea on two occasions and chose to stay at home in the warm and dry and annoy the Mrs, it did not help either that most of the rivers round my way were up to their throats with raging dirty water (even the canal was as bad) so I probably didn't miss out on too much?

Monday 7th January 2013

As planned, Carl (my eldest son) was at the roundabout for just after 7am, we threw his gear into the back of my truck and off we set for the thirty five minute or so journey to the stream/ditch. I was virginal to this small river and to be fair I didn't really know too much about it apart from it has a good head of small barbel/chub to around mid singles with the odd better fish a maybe.

After doing battle with the rush hour traffic we were soon pulling up at the top of the field on a main road with cars whizzing by at a rate that Lewis Hamilton would have been proud of!!

Quickly we unloaded and in his words "lob it over this fence boy", I obliged, looked at him and just giggled, after all I was in his hands as he had been here once before.

After a short walk down the headland dodging horse crap as we went we were soon standing on the edge of the stream observing. Surprisingly it was very low and gin clear, like tap water in fact. The day was cloudy and overcast so that was a plus point but with the clarity of the water it was clear to see where the fish weren't and that in turn narrowed down the swim choices to single figures spread across the two or so fields. After taking the advice of a work colleague to have a base camp  for the bulk of our tackle (thinking back now I think he stitched us up as he knew the score and knew what  the outcome would be) which in turn would then leave us to free roam up and down the stretch at ease.

We each sorted a rod, net and a mat out while a bait pouch finished the requirements for sneaking about. First plan of attack was to work the river to our left (downstream), the spare tackle was strategically placed in a nice tidy pile behind and up against a couple of small trees that were waters edge and off we trotted. Deeper holes or snags would offer us the best chance of a pull so that was what we went looking for. Meat was the starting bait, not big lumps but whittled down bits that would just cover a size 4 hook while a single SSG was pinched on to a tag of line that was secured to the mainline by a floatstop. Our first swims provided us with not a jot but the second produced a small chub of a couple of pound to Carl (or Doogle) as he is known in the trade, I had settled in a swim just around the bend from his position where the river swept from right to left with a bit of  depth and a bit more pace. I had just received a sharp jaggy bite when Doogle pitched up in my swim to see how I was getting on. There was enough room to my right so I suggested that he dropped his hookbait in for ten minutes under the trailing branches from a far bank tree. As we sat there having a smoke and a chinwag whilst perched on a comfortable log Carl received a bite just after lifting and lowering the bait, it was a scrapper alright and hung on for all it was worth but just as his fight was coming to an end the tip on my rod hooped over and soon we were both doing battle. A chevin of roughly three pounds was the culprit on mine but Doogles turned out to be a perfect and pristine little January barbel of about three and a half pounds. Both fish were left in the landing net just to our right rather than being returned straight away while we both had another lob just in case there were any others looking for a meaty breakfast!

After giving it probably another twenty minutes or so with no other pulls we made the decision to amble back to base for a brew and a sarnie but first we would take a couple of shots of Carl's little bar of immaculate gold.

What we experienced next can only be described as total carnage, as we neared our spare tackle we could see and sense that something wasn't quite right!

See, in this field were about twenty horses of all different shapes and sizes and the majority of them were now further down the field, but one (pic below)  looked like he was stood on guard not ten yards from our gear and it soon became apparent what had happened.

My small roving bag which is a fox 16ltr bucket bag was near empty and upside down in the margin of the river as was Carl's rucksack but his was a little further out, I had prepared us some beef (left over from my Sunday roast) and mustard rolls, well they were gone as were a complete packet of chocolate digestives, two packets of crisps and a couple of wispa bars, oh and not forgetting the two maggot feeders that were in the bag loose, they'd eaten the bloody lot!!

My flask had been kicked about all over the field and I swear if they could have got the lid off they'd have drunk that as well, our chairs were five yards away from were we had left them but luckily for me they hadn't totalled my camera although they had a go as they hadn't quite worked out how to get the buckle undone! We did laugh, although now we were starving and boyo hadn't even thought to put any grub in at all so now were buggered. I wiped the mud from the flask and poured us a brew while we sat back and tried to work what the hell had just happened?

After our tea break and clear up we set off to the right of base camp but this time we took all tackle with us (I wonder why?). I swapped over to the maggot feeder and short hooklink approach as I felt my best chance would be to target the chub and if a barbel come along then that would be a bonus.

Whilst walking up the stretch to find some likely looking areas the picture above was hard to resist, with the winds and flooding that we had been experiencing over the past few weeks it seemed to have really taken its toll on this tree and with it came the bank plus the rivers edge.

I picked a swim that had some pacy water to my right as it swept round a small bend before flattening off in front of me and dropping off slowly under some trailing twigs that were hanging just of the waters surface. First flick out and soon the tip pulled round and a chublet was swung to hand. A few more silver fish were taken from this spot but nothing of any size not that it mattered but one thing that impressed me was the quality of the fish they were all immaculate, perfectly scaled and coloured as the roach below shows. 

Carl had stayed on the meat tactics but apart from a couple of jags nothing else materialised in to full on bites. The time was now 1.30pm and I was hank marvin so we decided to get back to the truck and head off down the road and visit the garage and sample some of its pre packed,curled up sarnies but also I purchased a new shiny packet of chocolate digestives just as a little treat of course.

We then spoilt ourselves with our purchases and made the decision to have a little go just up the road on a free section in the nearby village not far from where the source starts.

Again I chose the maggot approach as did Carl as we both felt the prospect of chub would be the better option due to the conditions. I'd like to tell you that we bagged up and it was non stop action but it wasn't, I had a couple of real good pull rounds that left me striking in to thin air and his nibs saved the blank afternoon by mugging a small chub of about a pound. Four o'clock came round so we decided enough was enough and it was time to beat the rush hour traffic and get home home for a nice evening meal that wouldn't be snatched from our grasps by a four legged thieving bloody horse!

Cheers son, it was a giggle but next time do some spare pack up as back up and leave your pets at home.

Golden B####cks

Ain't she a beauty



Carl....... "you da man"

Mid afternoon on Sunday past I received a phone call from Carl (my eldest son), you could tell by the tone of his voice that something big had happened.

 He said "Dad I've just nailed the biggest water pig in the lake, all 31 pounds of it".

This was in fact the first time he'd actually wet a line at the low stocked water, so after turning up, finding a couple of fish, lowering a bait from his rod tip and then slipping the net under the big fat apple sliced mirror, he was a little more than elated.

So through this blog I would just like to say again.........

"TOP ANGLING SON"

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.

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.