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?

The Idiot Abroad

While on my recent Holiday to Tenerife with the Good lady it was soon made apparent that I was already there before the plane had touched down on the island.

"Is that you or Karl Pilkington, The Idiot Abroad?" She asked politely while snapping away with her camera.

"God I love her"

One pound fish (your new deadbait supplier)

Sprucing,preparing and planning

Time seems to of past by fairly quickly since the traditional river season ended and although I have been out in reality they have really only been half hearted attempts for short periods. Maggots,pellets,worms and corn have all been drowned in an attempt to catch any one of a number of species from a vast selection of different sized waters ranging from 90 acres down to 1 acre pools.
A few nice roach,perch and a seldom tench have all graced my net but speaking honestly I'd say 'its been difficult'.
With only a few weeks left and a week in the sun looming for me, the new season will soon be upon us.
At present the whole country is experiencing a deluge of rain and boy was it needed, how many of us would love to be out there now on running water? I know I would.
My local haunts are all bank high and the fields are sodden while the well needed flush through and top up is taking place.
Our scaly friends should be having a munch and readying themselves for the next good warm spell where hopefully they can take part in some sexy times and have the best spawning session they've ever had.
I'll be keeping a close eye on the weather over the coming weeks in the hope of seeing the above taking place just so a rough gauge can be made as to what my chosen stretches of the Gt Ouse might contain for the coming season.

For me the next few weeks will be spent cleaning down the gear,stripping line off and replacing with new, tying rigs and emptying my tackle bag of old sarnie wrappers and crisp packets.
Occasional walks will be made the nearer we get to the sixteenth of June in the hope of getting a glimpse of a golden torpedo complete with that tell tale orange glow as it twists and turns in the flow or maybe a big old pair of white lips as a chub glides out from beneath a far bank snag or a streamer bed to inspect the gravel glides.
We all enjoy the thought of something to look forward to and after sitting and jotting this piece together it has certainly wetted my thoughts and appetite for the glorious 16th of June even more.
The Gt Ouse will as normal get the bulk of my attention but my mind is also set on trips to the Rivers Teme, Severn,Warks Avon and the Wye.

We'll see where the season takes us but one things for sure..........Catch or not, as always I will just enjoy loafing in the great british countryside.

My little black trailer

I remember as a young boy (I was roughly 12, I think), loading up my little black trailer with my seat box, match style rod bag and keepnet bag before attaching it to the back of my Raleigh BMX bike. My daddy had made me this little trailer especially for the purpose of me being able to get to the grand union canal or the little River Ouzel that runs through my Bedfordshire hometown.
It was made from a proper angle iron frame that supported the main body, which was made from plywood, before being sprayed black. Then from what I can recall, a bar came out and up before being attached underneath my saddle somewhere and was somehow able to swivel (for obvious reasons) allowing me to deviate left and right.

This little trailer meant that during weekends, school holidays and days that I decided to 'bunk' off, I could still get to destination water for a days fishing.
I think the 'old man' decided to make it for me so that I didn't pester him all the time for a lift there and back at every given opportunity. I was mad for a bit of angling even in those days ( I'm talking roughly, 30 years ago ).
I remember dad calling me to the garage and slowly opening the door before exposing it, and saying " now make sure you look after the bloody thing" . He then proceeded to read me the highway code complete with tips on towing a trailer!!
"Remember, your twice as long now, so give corners, roundabouts and old ladies a wider berth than normal,
and make sure your loads strapped down good n proper".
I can recall a certain day that I decided to cycle to a place that we call orchard mill this was roughly five miles or so from my house and consisted of negotiating a series of hills. Before getting to the road part of the journey I first had a couple of miles of canal towpath to travel, and on doing this I picked up a puncture. The tyre managed to stay up for the five miles there but I did not realise until setting off on my return journey. Luckily dad had equipped me with a pump, so every ten minutes or so I had to keep stopping to blow in more air to see me home. I used to know roughly how long it would take me to do certain journeys so I'd keep having that "one last cast" and leave it right to the death before packing up and setting off, but on this day I had not allowed for the every ten minute blowing time and returned home into dark and received a bit of a bollocking from the parents (oops).

I can't remember what happened to my little black trailer, but what I do know is, without it I'd have been "knackered for bunking off for a days angling" .
I'll see if I can dig out a picture.

Floats of beauty

Whilst flicking through one of the monthly mags I stumbled across a sight that has beauty written all over it.
The time and effort that must go into the making of these. http://handmadefloats.blogspot.co.uk/

I might just have to treat myself .

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"