Little did I know

I’m taking you back to New years eve 2009 and the Christmas period when most of us get a little extra time off work and maybe a few angling plans set out. This particular year was another wet one, not only that we’d also had a bit of the white stuff, the gritters had been out and my local Great Ouse was up to its neck with a mass of chocolate salty water!

Probably like most of you, when I feel the need to go angling, I just have to go!

Luckily for me, on leaving work pre the Christmas break I had taken some maggot and Lobworms home with the mindset that if the inevitable happened then I could just go out angling for a bite from anything and not necessarily a specific species (maybe just drop on to my local Grand union canal if push came to shove). Anyway, with all the festivities done and dusted and work looming fast the urge to angle was upon me, my brother was also itching to get out so between us we hatched a plan to get out and grab a bit of fresh air.

The Ouse was a definite no go, so I decided to head to a local lake that’s just a short drive from my home where I used to angle for Carp/Catfish. General coarse fishing wise, not that many anglers tend to bother with it but it holds all the usual suspects from Tench, Bream, Perch and Silvers, silvers that I had caught all be it by mistake on 12mm pop ups whilst fishing for Carp during previous springs and summers!

Leading up to this particular day, I had readied a tip rod, an Avon type rod with a 1.5oz tip, 5lb mainline, black cap maggot feeder stopped with a quick change bead and the hook link was a self-tied 2lb 80z to a size 16 hook with the intention of fishing a chopped worm tipped with a red maggot.

On arrival at just after first light it soon become apparent that half the lake was frozen solid so with only 5 swims maximum to choose from I carefully selected one that would not only be comfortable but also that sat on the back of the chilling wind.

I knew the lake quite well in regards to depths and features etc and in this particular peg at about 20yds or so the depth changed from sixteen feet to ten (a hump, quite a large hump) and this was to be my chosen distance. An empty feeder was then cast and clipped up, I then cast still with no hook link on five or six times just to get a little bit of maggot in the swim.

Shortly after, a baited cast was made and I sat back and chilled out with a brew from the flask.

We had decided to fish until mid afternoon and apart from me striking at thin air to a tentative pluck at mid-morning all else was quiet.

At about 1.30pm just as I was tucking in to a cold turkey and pickle sandwich, I had a knock, a little attention as I like to call it, the tip pulled round at a steady pace, little did I know what was about to rise and be pulled over the net cord? On first glimpse I can remember saying to my brother “I’ve got a very large silver dollar here”

Safely netted and unhooked, we then set about putting a number on her and neither of us could quite believe it when the scales read out a very pleasing winter 3lbs 8oz!!

A quick couple of pictures were taken before slipping her back and toasting with a sloe gin from the hip flask. We angled on for another couple of hours but no more attention was forthcoming and we headed for home to see the New year in.

 The moral of the story is…. If you need to change tact or species then do it, you never know what that next bite might be!

Tight lines

Derren

  

Long Hair vs Grey Matter And The Feeder

 After the excitement of the river season kicking in, I have to admit that my fishing fell a little flat on its face what with one thing and another. Although I did manage to grace the banks of my local Great Ouse on three occasions right at the very start of the season and banked half a dozen Chub to up and around the four pound mark before the weather turned blisteringly hot and the levels dropped off.

Coincide this with the fact that I still have the problem of "we have not moved house yet", purchaser pissing about, solicitor pissing about, so in turn my head and thoughts have been everywhere bar angling which is difficult to say the least especially when you work in the trade!

Things seem to be heading in the right direction now though and a completion for early September is on the cards so things should (I say with baited breath) start to settle down in the coming weeks?

With most of my gear now packed, I have made sure a little has been left to hand just in case; a just in case  'grab and go' session could be made as and when I fancy and time prevails?

 



 

 

Less Kit Is More.

 

So over the past couple of weeks I have been grabbing and going, the nice thing with angling in this manner is only a small amount of kit is required. One bucket bag to park my bum on which carries the minimal amount of tackle that I require for a few hours fishing. Half a dozen feeders which consist of three blockend and three open ended in a variety of weights, a spool of hooklink mono, a couple of packets of spade hooks in size 14 and 16, a hook tier and some quick change beads complete the end tackle.

 Bait/feed is also a simple affair with groundbait, castors, maggot and corn being thrown into a large bucket and mixed to my requirements once I am at the waterside.

The rod is prepared at home, broken down and strapped to my landing net handle with tip tops and apart from my net bag and trusty flask, that is the lot, happy days! 

 

Choice Of Water.

 

The water is only a short twenty minute drive from my home and although I had fished it many years ago during my Carping years I had yet to angle it in this manner. At 75 acres it is more often than not a little windswept, it holds all your everyday species from large shoals of Bream and Roach to Tench, Perch, Gudgeon and even the odd Chub shows every now and then so with the prospect of just fishing for bites, potentially it could just about throw anything up at any time and who knows to what size?

 

Session One.

I arrived at the lake just after first light and the wind was blowing a fairly steady South westerly and as I plodded my way along the bank I soon become aware of fish topping in an area some 35 yards or so out on the choppy water "bonus" I muttered to myself. Having located some fish the next thing to do was prepare my sweet, sticky and dark groundbait mix and once done it was soon being loaded into a 50gm feeder and complimented with a double castor hookbait mounted on a size 14 hook.

First cast to the area and I was clipping up and taking note of a distant blot on the landscape for precise accuracy. Second cast in, the tip pulled round good and slow and soon I was netting a nice size skimmer of roughly a pound and a half and this was to be followed up in consecutive casts by a couple more just slightly smaller. My first Roach came to hand after what was probably a dozen casts, it was a nice sized little fella of around seven ounces, immaculate and mirror like, I could almost see my reflection looking back at me!

From that point onwards the silvers just kept coming at me, sometimes the feeder would have only just hit the bottom and on clipping the bail arm over the tip would be taking on its healthy arc.

I had to be away just after 2pm so after what was probably twenty last casts I finally pulled the keepnet in for a last glimpse of my prizes. Roughly 30lb-35lb of silver gems lay in the folds of the mesh with a couple of them being just over the pound mark, with that I left the lake that day with a buzz of excitement and already itching to get back.

 

 

A Pristine Silver







Session Two.

After returning to work the following day and reporting my findings to my colleague and buddy young Daniel. It soon became apparent that he was up for a bit of a social session with the hope for a repeat of my findings. We decided that an evening after work would suit just fine so settled on the coming Monday. This in turn gave us a couple of days plus the weekend to throw banter backwards and forwards and wind the job right up! The same tactics including the bait would be used by both of us as he decided to copy me, but at least it made sense.



 The Whipper Snapper.

 

Monday evening arrived and I was soon collecting Bob Nudd from his hideout, a quick pit stop in MacDonald's for an on the go burger n fries was made and by 7pm we were angling. We had settled in a couple of swims just up from where I had sat the previous session, positioned some twenty yards apart so not only could I see him but I could also smell him!!

With only two hours angling in front us and after all of the build up and banter we had given each other the anticipation for that first bite was getting bigger and bigger. After what was to be Dan's third chuck he received a bite and just as he was pulling it over the waiting pan my tip also bounced round. His first was a mint conditioned Roach and mine turned out to be a striped sergeant, we were now up and running.

Large black clouds were rolling our way but we were catching steadily but soon we were hiding beneath our brolly's and hanging on as the wind picked up its now increasing blow, it was inevitable that whilst holding on to the brolly spike that I would receive a good gentle pull that wanted to just keep on going, on striking I knew that it was a better fish, a fish that turned out to be a Bream of roughly 4lbs or so. The next three casts I made produced three more of our snotty friends of similar size and it was just as I was placing one in the net that I looked down the bank at my little hippy friend only to see him walking the bank to retrieve his brolly that had decided to go air born!!

I took the piss a little and he came back at me a two fingered salute that I just shrugged off and launched another feeder out, shortly after the rain eased off and all seemed comfortable again (I hate brolly's). Dan was picking up some nice Roach which to be fair made a nice change for him instead of the shelter. Time was now ticking on and with only about half hour of daylight remaining I was soon to be playing what turned out to be a nice little Tench that weighed somewhere in the region of 3.5lbs  and by now all I had to do was give a cheeky little cough and that was enough for him to give only a head shake back at me. Ten past nine arrived and we were calling it a day, pleased with our efforts (me more so than my young apprentice), we had had giggle and caught some nice fish.

That's what angling should be.

 



'Cheese Danny Boy'

 

Scratching Amongst The Catkins

After having a few weeks away from the bank I decided it was time to go and have a dabble, I was unsure not only where to go but also what target species to angle for? Day sessions confuse me a little during the close season especially at short notice and even though it has been slightly warmer for the last week, waters across the country still seem to have a wintry look and feel about them. I contemplated Tench fishing on a small lake that I managed to sneak a couple out of last spring but with the water temperatures still very cold I decided against the idea and thought a visit to the Grand Union would fit my needs with Roach,Perch and any other species that might just fancy a little munch.
I arrived just on 7am and plodded a short walk to a spot that had given me a little success on odd previous trips, the forecast for the day was supposed to be up to twenty degrees, what tosh that was!! a cold wind was blowing straight across the cut and hitting me straight in the face, oh well angle on and have a go were my thoughts.

Spot The Pole Float

Two rods had been packed, one was my 11ft float rod that was coupled with my trusty Rapidex pin and loaded with 3lb mainline, a light pole float was attached, shotted to a dot while a size 18 hook to 2lb line completed the set up. My other rod was to be a Daiwa connoisseur feeder rod with the 1oz tip attached, the reel was filled with a 4lb line and this would be fished with an SSG shot clamped to a short tag of line and held in place with a couple of float stops, a size 10 hook to a 3lb hooklink completed the job.
Bait for the day would be either hemp or pellet for the float rod and lobworms or prawns for the ledger. Maggots had not been considered on this occasion as I didn't want to be distracted for the slightly easier option(maybe) in just fishing for bites from anything that swims!
The tip rod was baited with one and a half lobworms and a fake maggot just to stop the buggers wriggling off and flicked to a small bay that lay between some hawthorn bushes, A couple of pouches of whole and chopped prawns where then fed over the top via the catapult,this rod would be left to do its thing while I concentrated on the float rod in search of some Roach.
4mm hooker pellets were my starting hookbait for the float rod, and I gathered that because the water temperatures were still low that the way forward would be not to over bait and just go gentle with the loose feed to begin with, so a small pinch of feed pellet would be fed roughly every other cast or so.
The first couple of hours passed by fairly quickly and all that I'd managed to muster were three hand sized pale looking Perch on the worm rod and a couple of small skimmers on the float. Not only were the bites on the float hard to come by but I also had the increasing problem of floating catkins that were being blown on the wind and drifting every time the locks were opened.

Bait Robber

 Masses of them started to cover the surface and in turn cause me problems not only with presentation but also on striking thus causing me to miss a few finicky bites where they had built up around the line between the rod tip and the float. Close by and on the opposite bank were a couple of swims that had probably been made and angled  by the younger generation during school holidays, the wind would be coming from behind but more importantly it was it was catkin free and soon I was gathering my small amount of kit and walking back over the bridge and nestling myself amongst the bankside foliage.
It didn't take me long to re adjust to my new surroundings and soon the same tactics were being applied. Either side of me had trailing bushes and foliage draping over and touching the waters surface and although shallower than the opposite bank I just had a feeling that the extra cover could hopefully provide me with one or two bites.
The worm rod was flicked just along the bank to my right and left to sleep, while I sat and concentrated on the float which had been placed just off of an over hanging hawthorn bush slightly to the left of me. By now the boat traffic had increased and so had the clarity of the water, as thick plumes of silt bubbled and smoked its way through the water column.
I had just poured a brew from my trusty and well loved flask when from the corner of my eye the quiver tip displayed a jaggy pull round and soon I was removing the hook from a nice Perch of around twelve ounces. Bites then came on a fairly regular basis to the worm rod but nothing of any size, the majority of the fish were all in the region of half a pound or so. The float rod on the other hand was still being difficult, I had missed a couple of bites that to be honest looked unmissable and the decision was quickly made to drop down to a size 20 hook and a slightly finer hooklink.
Shortly after placing the float back on the spot and flicking a few pellets out the float sailed away and a nice conditioned Roach was being swung to my palm, half a dozen more were quickly taken and then the swim went dead, I'd obviously caught them all??

Hand Sized Silver

I persevered, kept flicking bait out and playing with the depth and even moved the shot around, It was harder than going to work you know! The next bite that I received came when I had just taken my eye off the float to watch a jogger run past on the opposite bank (that will teach me) when the next thing I saw was the tip on my rod being pulled to the left while line was being taken from the centrepin. After a not very spirited fight I was soon scooping a Bream of roughly 4lbs into the folds of my net. Now Bream to be honest don't really float my boat but on what seemed like a fairly hard days angling it had managed to get me slightly active!

 

A couple more small Perch and a rather large Crayfish were taken on the tip, but the Bream had killed the float fishing to near dead, couple this with half a dozen more boats and the easy decision was made to sod off home and annoy the wife.

 

 

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.

Perchubing

Since returning from the gorgeous surroundings of the River Severn and its barbel, the last few weeks have seen me roaching on the cut and perchubing on the Great Ouse.
Although no monsters have crossed my palm, enjoyment was still had, a welcoming amount of pristine silvers were caught from the canal and once again were all taken on the pin/pole float and elderberry approach to an average size of roughly six ounces or so with the odd ten/twelve ounce fish a bonus beauty. Personally I think there is an unknown potential lurking somewhere within our canal systems and it might be there on your doorstep just waiting to be caught. Get out there and try your local, you never know!

 

 

Pictured above is a section of the Great Ouse that is only a short 25 minute drive from my home but until recently I had never cast  bait at it. I suppose Its known more for doing big chub than anything else, occasionally it throws up the odd barbel from a very,very small shoal. The perch potential is a little unknown to me but I can see no reason why a big three or maybe a scraper four shouldn't be there for the taking. So with perch and chub set firmly in my mind and the nicety/excitement of fishing a new stretch, my last two midweek sessions have seen me exploring a new challenge at least for the time being.

 

 

 My chosen tactics consisted of a tipped specialist feeder rod and my trusty cardinal reel. Two swan shots pinched to a short section of line before being pulled through a couple of float stops and onto the 6lb mainline and completed with a size 8 hook and two/three big fat juicy lobworms as the hookbait. A move was made every half hour or so unless bites were forthcoming or if I had one of those angler feelings that I might!

 

 

 

I had just moved into swim number two but immediately made a mistake!

Fifteen yards to my right on the opposite bank was a large overhanging tree, it looked sexy and worth a cast but after fifteen minutes or so only a small tap on the tip had registered even after a couple of lift and lowers of the lobs. Five yards out to my left and right were some pipe reeds which created a nice slack beneath my feet, it was in this slack that I noticed small fry leaping and dimpling the surface as I sat there with a cup of tea and a cigarette. I thought to myself that I'd give it another fifteen minutes in the swim before strolling on but decided to move the bait into the slack water.

On positioning the bait and placing it on the rest a small pinch of red maggots was deposited every couple of minutes, shortly after I was soon landing a nice stripe around the half pound mark.

The next half hour that followed saw me catch a dozen perch to just under the two pound mark with a couple of fish also bumped off before the bites dried up and forced me to move on.

Conditions were bright and sunny and the wind was quite strong, far from ideal but enjoying it I was and the fish I had managed so far had in my eyes made the day worth while.

Swim three and the last of the session produced four more perch to roughly 12oz or so before I headed back to the truck and called it a day. In hindsight I think that if I'd have taken the float rod then a few more fish would have fallen but at least now as long as conditions are on my side then I know my tactics for next week.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Respect your elders

 The barbel gear has been packed and readied for my trip to the River Severn this Saturday coming, it is a yearly affair with the family that that lasts the week and coincides not only with my daddy's birthday but also my parents wedding anniversary. Days out in oldy worldy towns,walks, pub grub complete with a few beers and hopefully a few barbel to look forward to so I'll keep you posted on that one.

My latest efforts have been just a couple of short trips back to the Grand Union canal in pursuit of its unknown roach potential, just how big could the silvers be in this dirty old strip of water?

As mentioned in a couple of earlier posts, I have had the odd dabble with punched bread but this time out I had decided to take out a gift that was given to me a couple of weeks ago in the shop by a customer.

"These are what you want for roach boy" as he placed a dusty old jam jar on my counter. "35 year old they are" I looked at him a little bewildered and proceeded to try and take the lid off! "elderberries" he said " give them a go and if you want anymore I have five more jars at the ready" .

Sunday and Monday past I decided to take my berries along with a jar of hemp just as feed to two different sections of the canal and had very promising results. Sunday was a family affair with Lady J and two of my boys complete with a picnic to the park in Berkhamstead which just happens to have canal on one of its banks so it'd of been rude not to throw a couple of rods in the truck, one for the boys to share and drown a few maggots and one for me to give the berries their first outing.

The boys sat there thrashing the water to a foam and pulling gudgeon and perch out on the maggot probably six fish to my one but as I kept telling them "its quality and not quantity lads, tortoise and hare, tortoise and hare". Pictured above seemed to be the average size of silver that was crossing my palm so I was more than happy with that.

Monday morning I headed to a section that is just a long jump from home, again just armed with hemp and berries and nothing else so I wasn't tempted to stray from the plan. The peg that I chose to park my bum consisted of quite deep water due to a run off sluice that was situated behind me so the water in front of me was roughly 4/5 feet deep. The sun was just breaking through and the cut was very still so after plumbing up and flicking a couple of small pinches of hemp out I carefully chose a berry for the hook.

It was probably twenty minutes or so before the pole float bobbed under and the first roach of the day came to the net. I was now content and over the next few hours a steady flow of roach were caught and were of a good average size of six to eight ounces or so, two fish stood out though, one fish of 15 ounces and an absolute mint conditioned 1lb 8oz corker that  had me not only smiling from ear to ear but also gave me faith in my new found bait that will now be in my roaching armoury as another alternative. Please excuse another picture laid on the grass as due to me travelling light I have not been taking the camera and just using the phone for my shots, still it saves my ugly mug ruining the trophy shots eh? 



1lb8oz Berry good



                                                                   

You may notice there is no heading, it's been left blank because that's exactly how my latest session on the Gt Ouse ended today. Three swims were fished, I got piss wet through,blown to bits and struggled to buy a bite. I felt like I had fished well enough and enjoyed it but still as yet no Ouse barbel for this season so far.
I'll be out fishing the cut for silvers on Monday with a secret bait that might just tempt a better stamp? Then a week on Saturday myself and the good lady are off to the Severn and its scenery for a weeks holiday and a chill out, oh and hopefully one or two golden beards.

I'll keep you posted.

Everything bar the kitchen sink and barbel

I was up at first light and Gt Ouse bound, armed with my trusty 11ft Fox fx and good old fashioned Abu Cardinal 55 for a spot of intended barbel fishing. On my way down the path to my first choice of swim I stopped off and dropped a little bit of bait in to another that might just hand me my first Ouse barbel of the season. The river was low and clear and the sun was due to shine and it duly did, not ideal conditions to say the least but if nothing else it would be pleasurable.
The first swim of the day saw me sat beneath a canopy of trees, it felt and looked quite fishy to be fair but damp and nippy with it. Conditions had dictated me to only take some some small pellet and hemp to compliment my chosen 8mm hookbaits. A 30gm blackcap feeder with an equal amount of each free sample was my way of depositing the said bait to the riverbed. Not long after the first put in, a tell tale sign of a chub bite had me answering its call and my instincts were proven right as a small fish headed to my waiting hand. I unhooked it, admired for a second before taking it on a short walk and released her some twenty yards or so downstream. The next cast was soon made, a brew was poured and as I sat there watching the sunrise, almost instantly the rod top started to move a little but this was no proper bite, this was Reggie Cray and he was that mahoosive a saddle wouldn't of looked out of place on him!! I can't say what happened next so I'll move on swiftly. I managed another small chub from the swim and decided it was now time to move on and try the other area I had baited earlier on.
Ten yards below where I was now situated was a large tree that kicked across the river at an angle towards some pipe rushes and the pace of the river was increased as the river narrowed. Just above me was a smaller bush and as the flow hit this it formed a nice crease between the two areas so it was on and half way down this crease that I decided to place the bait. I didn't have to wait too long for a bite but again it wasn't what I was after and this time it turned out to be a dace and another one quickly followed too. Dace number three wasn't quite so lucky though as not long after hooking it, it got heavier and a jack pike of around four pounds had engulfed the poor little fella only to let go right at the net and this had left it in a serrated state to say the least. The last bite of the day turned out to be the pick of the bunch and I even took two minutes out to weigh and photo her as you can see below, at 1lb 2oz it's no record breaker but it was absolutely mint and worthy of it. It mattered not a jot that it as was silver and not gold coz I love em!!!!

 

Punching the cut

Today Lady J was booked to go hair cutting so I took the opportunity to grab a few hours on the Grand Union Canal and although the river was calling me I just knew that I'd spend most of the session clearing weed and debris from my tackle as the Ouse is still near to bank high after the recent two months of rain!!

My local section of canal was a no go due to a match taking place so a short drive of five minutes or so was made and I was soon pulling up at a stretch that I had not angled for quite a few years. A shortish walk was made and soon I was settled on a nice sweeping bend that had the added bonus of some near bank cover of high grass and nettles combined. Just like my previous session all I had taken was the 11ft float rod complete with the pin and the plan was to fish the nearside ledge on a light pole float with bread punch and white crumb and the occasional pinch of hemp for added attraction.
After settling down and plumbing up I was soon enjoying bite after bite as small roach and the odd gudgeon were coming to my waiting paws. Now, with it being a Sunday the towpath was busy with joggers,dog walkers,ramblers and loving couples all passing by me at regular intervals with the odd one making all the usual comments like 'have you caught enough for your tea yet' or 'I didn't know there were any fish in here' but the best one being 'bloody hell that's a tiddler'!! With barge after barge also passing by the water itself was also moving backwards and forwards a fair bit but the fish didn't seem put off by the ongoing traffic and soon I had lost count of the amount of fish I had caught.
The nice thing with fishing this way and with it being an open waterway is you never really now what the next bite might be or even how big?

The morning was passing by fairly quickly, I was enjoying the warm sunshine (which makes a bloody change from all the rain we've been experiencing), five last casts were made and within them came the largest fish of my few hours which turned out to be a prestige looking silver of roughly ten ounces or so which left me feeling quite content with my mornings work.

I'd like to end this piece with a word of warning......... Poo is present at a stretch near you so Be Aware! Just as I was packing my kit away I'd bent down to pack some things into the tackle bag and on placing my left hand to the ground it slid from beneath me and soon become apparent that this was not mud, mud does not smell like this mud!! "Shit" I muttered to myself but maybe just maybe it might have been lucky shit so off I went vowing to buy a lottery ticket.

One day, two canals

The alarm rattled its normal annoying tune this morning and nothing had been prepared apart from loading some 4lb line upon my Rapidex pin and coupled with my 11ft float rod. I had to be home for an appointment for 1.30 with the estate agent so time was short, the decision had been made to stay local and revisit my youth.

The Grand Union canal that runs through my hometown was in fact the very first place that a fish graced my hand when I was five years of age. I remember it clearly, a small gudgeon from under the town bridge while sat on an upside down shopping trolley!!

Soon I had the small amount of tackle sorted and was on my way to the cut, a whole three minutes away.

Light rain was falling as I crossed the foot bridge but as I looked left just a shimmer could be seen on the waters surface. The only thing that has changed in all these years are the trees, chopped,butchered and slaughtered.

A light 4x10 pole float was attached and shotted while a size 20 to a 2lb bottom completed the job and was soon being swung out to just over a rod length from my feet. Just as I had lent over to grab a pinch of maggot from the tub, from the corner of my eye I watched as the the tiny bristle just sailed away and on striking I was soon attached and swinging in a small skimmer bream which fitted my hand perfectly. Maggots and a small amount of hemp were being fed every cast and soon I was receiving a bite more or less every chuck.

Skimmers, roach, perch, daddy ruff and not forgetting the beloved little gudgeon were all visiting and at one point I even thought a carp was going to hit the list but unfortunately that had other ideas and spun the centrepin for roughly twenty yards before the hooklink parted and she was gone.

I had forgotten just how busy the canal could be what with runners, dog walkers and kids that were on their way to school and not forgetting the obvious barges.

I was enjoying myself so much that 20 or so last casts were made and nearly made me late but in the end I gave in and told the cut that I'd be back soon.

Now all I had left to do was meet the estate agent and ready some grub for me and the little lady before heading  back to the dentist for a different canal job, a root bugger!! **** my luck, I had not been to the canal to angle for years and yet today I had two visits to attend and I loved it!!

Pulled Out

The traditional season is just about 3 weeks old and so far I have managed to grace the banks of my beloved Gt Ouse for three shortish sessions with very little to show for my efforts.
As the season kicked off the whole country was experiencing extreme flooding and my local was to be no different. Opening weekend I managed to get out on the Sunday for a late evening that was followed up by kipping in the truck before once again gracing the river with my presence at first light to angle for the first few hours of the day. Apart from the odd chubby type tap most of the session was sat there taking in my surroundings but it was nice to be smelling running water again.

The following Wednesday I was back in the field, tucked away down the bank and surrounded by head high grass, to be frank I felt like I was nesting! The water level had dropped back a few good feet in the few days that I was away but was still holding a nice tinge of colour.
I had decided to start the day with two glued 12mm elipse pellets as hookbaits to a size 8 hook c/w pva bags of mixed elipse and a 2oz running lead completing the set up. As always I try to set my rod as low to the waters surface as possible (even if  backleading).
Half hour or so had passed by and apart from two egrets on a fly by and a couple sharp jags on the rod tip, nothing else had moved. A decision was made on a whim to scale down a little, I now had two 8mm pellets glued to a  knotless knotted size 10. First chuck in and the tip bounced and bounced again and on striking my first thoughts were telling me a small chub was going to be the culprit but infact it and the next bite both turned out to be pristine roach in the 12 to 14oz bracket, not what I was there for but nice all the same.
Bite three came 45 minutes or so later and a slightly more definite bite turned out to be a dark old bream of around six pound or so.
I rested the spot for half an hour after depositing some more bait via a small dropper and wandered off downstream with a brew and a marmite sarnie for a look/see. It always amazes me how things change from year to year, tree's move in floods slightly creating new creases and flows, reeds and rush beds become thicker and swims can be created in new areas and all this just seems to add a new life to our river systems.
Back in my swim and just after placing my bait back on the spot and  parking my bum back in the chair a cormorant crash landed in the centre of the river some twenty yards or so to my right before realising I was there when once again it clumsely took flight and buggered off elsewhere to destroy someone elses stock!
Perhaps ten minutes or so passed by when all of a sudden the rod just buckled over with no warning what so ever. On lifting the rod I knew straight away it was a barbel as it flat rodded me on its first downstream run, after what seemed like a minute or so the fish turned and tried to make for the tree on the far bank and the roots that come with it, I instantly applied pressure and briefly thought I would win when all of a sudden the hook pulled! It left me swearing a little and also wondering if I should have stayed on the 8 hook and in hindsight I probably should have considering the situation.
I fished on for another hour in the swim but nothing else was forthcoming so off I did trott and a beaten man to say the least.

Session 3 was today, the 27th and on pulling down the track to the carpark I couldn't believe my eyes, I had been beaten to the water! Usually Wednesdays are quiet on most of the stretches that I fish but here on the mill its very rare that you see a soul. I now had a gut feeling that I wouldn't get back in the swim that had produced the bite the previous week and although I dont like to keep fishing the same holes week in week out I did feel I had unfinished business.
I had guessed right, out of two fields the fellow angler was in the nest, so I chose not to disturb him and just quietly dropped in two swims up to his right. Here the water runs fast under your feet and falls slack on the far bank in front of what is probably the biggest tree on the stretch. I had decided to go back to my size 8 hooks but had lenghtened my hooklinks to roughly 18", the reason for this was a 50gm blackcap feeder with hemp and 3mm pellet was to be the order of the morning but still continuing with two glued elipse on the hair.
An hour or so had passed with just the odd twitch occuring and just when I had turned away to view fishy splash's to my right, from the corner of my eye I saw my rod tip bounce round a foot and just hold there.
On striking I could tell it was more likely going to be a chub and soon after a steady plod she was guided in to the waiting folds of the net. On first view she looked every bit at least a big five but the scales confirmed 4lb14oz of spawned out chevin. It wasn't a barbel but I was happy as the slight change of tact had produced another bite from what is quite a tricky little stretch.
I only had till 12.30ish today as I had an appointment at the dentist for a different kind of pull........A wisdom tooth was to be pulled out and if i'm honest I was dreading it but it had to be done.
Nothing else happened apart from the the odd tippy tap that progress into nothing. On getting back to the truck the other angler had already left so must of crept back past me and left me also undisturbed.

So there you have it, the opening couple of weeks in the life of Derren complete with a couple of different pulls.........2x roach, 1x bream, 1x chub, 1 lost barbel and 1 lost tooth!

Whats next?

Visited by the doctor

On unlocking the gate and entering the fishery, with ground frost crunching beneath my feet, the day had been forecast to be 18C at its warmest and as I trudged my way along the footpath and through the trees I was still pondering as to where to park my bum to wet a line. I'd already decided to walk past the first lake and on to the second as it's a little more secluded and intimate with trees and rushes separating almost every swim. The quality and quantity of the fishing is a little unknown to me and only snippets can be found on who, what and why but it all adds to the excitement of what the next bite could be. As I have said before, these two little waters are just filling the gap of the close season so anything that I do manage to catch will be bonus captures of whatever species.

Anyway, back to the "doctor". I decided to stop half way along the bank and the said swim is natural but large but plenty of open water could be covered if the need arises, to my left is a bare but quite large tree that hangs a fair way out from the bank that I am on, and on putting my gear down although I was facing the wrong way, a small splash was heard and on turning round the ripples could be seen at about thirty five to forty yards straight out  in front "that'll do me" I grunted to myself.

The plan was to blackcap feeder fish with maggot/hemp as feed and either maggot or castor as hook baits, I also had some jolly green giant and my faithful tub of pets (lobworms) with me just in case I fancied or needed a change of tact.

I took my time tackling up but every now and then I would grab the catty and pult some castor's and a few grains of corn to the front of the tree on my left, the idea was to do this and leave it for as long as possible until I could resist no longer, this was to be angled with my trusty 13ft power float rod and after taking the depth I just left it in peace until I was happy, and that something might just fancy a corn breakfast.

Three feeders of maggot and five of hemp were deposited without the rig attached, roughly on the line where the earlier splash had taken place, and soon I was sat back in the chair awaiting a sign.

It was probably fifteen minutes or so, before I had the first bit of interest. A quick jag on the tip indicated that something was after my two wriggling reds, seconds later it pulled round enough for me to think "strike", and strike I did. A small roach was led to my hand, admired and gently put back. For the next couple of hours this seemed to be the trend, as roach and the odd Rudd to around the half pound mark at best ( they were all one handed jobbies) found there way to me.

All the time I had kept on trickling, little and often to the margin tree, and after a brief cuppa complete with a sarnie and an egg of the scotched variety the decision was now made to drown a golden grain beneath a float. A cast was made just past the baited patch and pulled back into place and left to cock and settle. Just at that point three geese came into landing straight out in front of me, from then on peace had been shattered as they had decided it was "fruity time". On looking back at my float it bobbed before sitting right up and lying more or less flat on the surface, on lifting the rod I was soon met by a plodder.

A heavier,slower fish hugged along the bottom and was trying to gain the sanctuary of the tree or its branches. With pressure applied control was soon had and after a spirited fight there in the bottom of my net lay "old red eye", due to the colour of the water it did look a little pale, even in the sunlight. Not the prettiest of samples as you can see by the picture, the "doctor that needed a doctor", rot on the tail had set in.

A quick weigh, not that it mattered really, was taken and five pound twelve was the reading.

A couple of Rudd took a liking to my corn offering on the float but then the bites just dried up on me so it was back onto the feeder gear.

The pattern that followed was almost like for like with the mornings events until a different bite occurred.

I was just on the phone to the "better half" when the tip took on a solid arc and on connecting with the fish, straight away I knew it was different. A slow and steady fish was taking me basically where it liked but after a while I did manage to get to within ten yards of my bank and this is when the line fell slack! Harsh words were muttered and on swinging the feeder in I could see that my five pound hooklink had broken half way up, with the fish taking my size 16 hook. Tench or carp? who knows?

After that the swim went quiet, my arms and neck were burnt and the flask was dry and with that I packed it in and shouted to lake "I'll be back, you owe me"



An ill wind

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

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 trotted.

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!!