July 2020 blog

The river season is well underway now, and I had a few trips to running water in June to blow away the cobwebs. It has been a difficult start with precious little to get excited about, and generally most rivers across the UK haven’t been at their best. It was notable that most of the Barbel reported were large spawned out females, some good fish to be sure, but few of the smaller males showed up, which to my mind indicates they were late finishing their breeding activity. Males are not big eaters when they have girls on their minds, and if a few get caught in the first couple of weeks it usually means spawning is done and dusted.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about the resumption of the river season was my renewed enthusiasm; every year I start with fire in my belly, and I am always mildly shocked when the first few trips don’t produce a net full. I have been river fishing for 45 years, so you would think I could lower my expectations by now, after 45 such disappointing starts!!

Apart from the poor fishing, this has been a unique year because of corona virus, and venues have been under severe angling pressure, simply because more people have the time to go fishing due to furlough and home working. Many of them haven’t fished in years, and some are sadly lacking where bankside etiquette is concerned. I hope this all calms down as the season progresses; opening of the pubs and the return of football, combined with the arrival of the autumn rains should help re-establish the status quo.

03/07/2020 Tidal Trent

One of my Ribble mates was keen to try the tidal, so I arranged to meet him on the bank of a club stretch we both have a ticket to fish. It’s a long journey, so we made it an overnight session, but he was keen to try out his newly acquired bivvie and bed chair anyway.

On arrival it was blowing an absolute gale, and scudding storm clouds flew across the gigantic sky-scape. It was very forbidding, and typical of the tidal Trent. We manned up and got on with it, but alas it proved to be one of the poorest sessions I have had over there. Not a single Barbel obliged, and neither did the usual Bream or chub: it was all very slow indeed.

My pal tried maggot and amused himself with a couple of bream, but it was below par to say the least. When I woke the next day I’d had enough, and when I went to find him to tell him so, he was already long gone. That one won’t go down in my diary as a red letter day, that’s for sure! I just hope I haven’t put him off because it is usually a fantastic river to fish, but this is an atypical season.

10/07/2020 River Ribble

This was the first opportunity of the season to return to my nemesis, the mighty River Ribble. I have had some incredibly frustrating days on this spectacular spate river, but all the tough times are forgotten when you hit it just right.

So far for the early adventurers, the jungle drums have painted a frustrating picture; the odd success story amongst plenty of barbel blanks, with chub saving the day for many. My mate who lives in the locale has tremendous knowledge of the Ribble and its moods, but even he has reported mixed fortunes, with a few last ditch splasher’s saving the blanks. However, he had a great session when some recent heavy rain lifted the levels. I would be fishing the tail end of that rise, so I drove the hour journey with butterflies in my belly and optimism in my heart. Surely I wouldn’t blank first time out this season?

I made the stiff walk with relative ease, due to my recent decision to create a lightweight kit in a small army rucksack, jettisoning some of the bulk I often carry miles to the bank then bring back unused. This worked a treat and it sat far more comfortably than my previous bag, so a mile later I was in good shape and had passed the 3 other anglers on the stretch to get to a swim featuring a nice far bank glide. There was still half a meter of water on, so it was touch and go if it would be fishable there, but 4oz feeders and leads held with a good bow of line. I knew the river was falling so I was confident I could stay there and fish effectively all afternoon if I chose to.

My upstream feeder rod, with pellet as hookbait, produced a good knock within 10 minutes of casting in, but as the day progressed it was the downstream straight lead rod, with pva bag of crushed boilies and pellets that proved the most effective. The chub really got their heads down and I was getting a fish a cast; after half a dozen I began to think the feeding frenzy might be preventing the Barbel getting over the bait, so I put on a new hooklength with a longer hair in the hope of hooking less Chub, more Barbel.

It didn’t seem to make much difference as another couple of Chub were soon landed, but around tea time the downstream rod ripped off and I was attached to the unmistakable surge of a Barbel. The battle was fierce in the strong flow, but eventually I had guided the fish into the slightly slower water on my bank and was thinking of picking up the landing net, when the hook pulled! I inspected the rig and everything was fine, so I just wrote it off as bad luck, re-baited and back out again it went.

In my experience there’s no point dwelling on a lost fish, and with all the chub action I was confident sooner or later a Barbel would beat them to the bait; the commotion of Chub on the feed is like a magnet to hungry Barbel, so I’m always happy when a few Chevins turn up first.

I didn’t have long to wait, just one Chub later I had a massive drop back on the boilie rod and another powerhouse was attached, making the most of the flow as only Barbel can do. This time everything went to plan and soon the net was under a 5-6lb’er.

That was my first Ribble Barbel of the season, so after I had released her and recast, I sat down and ate a sandwich to celebrate, and sods law the same rod screamed straight off again. After an equally strong fight another identical fish to the first was on the bank!

Being so close together it reminded me of winter fishing where nothing happens all day apart from a short feeding spell, often occurring around dusk. It shouldn’t really be like this in the conditions today, but as mentioned in the intro I think the fish are not in full feeding mode yet.

It was getting late now, still just light but getting close to home time, when another rattling bite and another smaller Barbel resulted. It had been a very decent session with 15 Chub and 3 Barbel, nothing huge though, with the Chub being a good variety of sizes from 2lb up to one around 5lb. The Barbel could hardly be called specimens, but they were in lovely condition, and gave a very good account of themselves. I was a happy hiker heading home, that’s for sure, especially after last week’s blank!

17/07/2020 River Dane club water

With just a morning to play with I thought I had better bite the bullet and go for a look at the section of the river that had been decimated by the tree fellers last month.

I bumped into the farmer before I made the trek across the fields and had a good heart to heart with him. I am always mindful that farmers are trying to make a livelihood from the land we only use for our leisure activity, but they also have a custodial responsibility and are bound by law, so it isn’t a free for all. I wanted to know why he had taken such draconian measures with the lovely old willow trees that lined the banks of this stretch and had taken so many years to grow to such majestic proportions, but to be fair I needed to see for myself before I engaged with him on the subject.

I have to say as I caught first sight of the river my heart sank; almost every single tree had gone, probably 50 or 60 over a mile stretch. The banks looked like a building sight with the scars of the heavy machinery, definitely not a pretty picture. I headed for the uppermost limit and fished from there heading downstream. Conditions were near perfect with 6″ of coloured water, however the sun was quite bright, but under these conditions previously I would be expecting half a dozen chub.

My first flier looked all wrong without the big crack willow to provide shelter for the fish, but there was still a raft below the sad remains of its stump. I pre-baited and set up at my leisure, then made my first cast with paste wrapped pellet as bait. I would normally expect a bite within a few minutes here, but absolutely nothing happened. Half an hour later I was on the move; it was an ominous start.

Two further swims pre-baited and tried resulted in a single knock, but no fish. I moved again and came across another angler who had just landed a chub! Happy days, at least some fish were still in residence.

I redoubled my efforts and pre-baited four usually productive spots in the downstream field, then blanked in three of them, before finally trying a newly exposed run that was previously in the heart of a willow copse. Just a few seconds after the bait hit the water it was engulfed by a chub of around 3lb, and I was mightily relieved to get one in the net. Another cast in the same location and I hooked another that spat the hook at the net; at that point I had to leave for an appointment.

I had another chat with the farmer back at the car and he was keen to know if I had caught; he seemed genuinely interested. I’m quite fond of the fella and didn’t have the heart to tell him I was so disappointed that the felling had been done so arbitrarily, or that my favourite stretch will take years to get back to what it was. I will return in a few weeks and hope to see signs of improvement.

24/07/2020 River Ribble, club water

Today typified this abysmal season so far, as I drove from stretch to stretch trying to find a parking space…everywhere was rammed out!! Not only that, but the heavy rain that had lifted the river and raised my expectations had ran off far quicker than I had expected; I was disappointed to find I had missed my window of opportunity, and the river was practically at normal level.

I had a feeling I would struggle, and I was not wrong! I finally found a less populated venue and went looking for faster oxygenated water. After a massive walk I found a lively section, but it was too shallow for my liking, and it didn’t help that a salmon angler decided that he also liked the look of my swim and waded out, casting a spinner across and through the top of my run for most of the afternoon.

I gave it my best shot and tried the softly softly approach with straight lead and pva bags, fished as far downstream as I could comfortable cast, but no takers except a nice roach that would have been a cracker if I was fishing with the right gear.

After a few hours I left it to the salmon man, who hadn’t exchanged a single word with me in the 3 hours we were close neighbours; I made the move back toward the carpark feeling thoroughly despondent.

I came across a swim I have fished successfully before and thought I would make my last stand there. I think I fished it well enough, again taking a low key approach, but nothing bit, except a couple of micro chub with eyes bigger than their belly’s. Then, just when I was thinking of calling it a day….a bite! The rod hooped over and I wound down into a very small Barbel. It was no contest and the fish was in the net in a few seconds.

I took the usual precautions with it because this is the future of the river. Nice to see it was in great condition and no otter teeth marks. I released it and decided I just had to stay on late in the hope of more action, which unfortunately coincided with the arrival of heavy rain. I got soaked through without a brolly for the next hour and didn’t have a twitch.

We are all aware this year is unique, but I will be glad when it starts raining hard and the autumn winds blow, and only the proper loonies will be out on the bank!

31/07/20 Trip to the River Severn, Shrewsbury area

My son’s flat was available Friday night so I headed down to the Severn undaunted by the knowledge that it was fishing really badly. The temperature was a crazy 33C and it was uncomfortably hot, even in the shade.

There was only one lad on the stretch and he was just packing his bivvy away; his overnight stay had been a success, but it was a bit of a worry for a day angler when he revealed his first bite was midnight!

The far bank was busier than I have ever seen it, and I never set up opposite another angler (part of the river etiquette I mentioned earlier) so I ended up walking a lot further than planned with my dodgy knee. I gave it my best shot, trying 3 different swims, varying tactics and working up a real sweat, and was so disappointed not to have a single bite or even an indication, despite trying various tactics and baits.

I stuck at it until 11pm and at that moment if somebody had offered me a good deal I would have sold my tackle and taken up golf. Instead I went back to the flat and had a ready meal and a beer, and resolved to try harder in the morning.

01/08/20 River Severn club water

Strictly speaking this should go in next month’s report but it was all part of the trip. I decided to try a new length on my club card, but it was so overgrown I couldn’t be arsed with it to be quite frank! I had 2 hours on the only accessible swim, but it never felt like it would produce anything and I was soon chucking the gear into the boot and planning to head for home with a double blank under my belt.

It was the thought of the distance I had travelled to get there that persuaded me to try one last venue for a couple of hours. It was back the way I had just come, but once there I was very pleased to find my favourite swim was free. I grabbed it without further ado, fished nothing but straight leads and pva bags, with the odd pouch of hemp fired in by catapult. The trip so far had proved the Barbel aren’t really at it yet, so I continued with my low key approach. I also pinched a lump of plastecine onto the mainline 4ft above the lead and fished slack, hoping to pin the line down to the bottom in the light flow. I also swapped the hooklength for a lighter one, as low as I dared go considering the power of the adversary and potential snags.

Well, my plan worked, because half an hour later the downstream rod roared off and after the usual intense battle and near misses with potential snags, a lovely summer Barbel of 7-8lb was in the net…get in! It was a nice fish but not particularly noteworthy, except under the current circumstances it was as precious as a bar of gold!

I increased the catapult work, mainly hemp and a few pellets, and soon the chub started arriving. A few kept me busy through the evening before another similar sized Barbel muscled in, again giving a tremendous fight and in lovely condition. Things were certainly looking up now!

All anglers know that one sure fire way of getting a bite is to pour yourself a cup of tea or ring up somebody. The fish always know the most inconvenient time to strike; this time I was deep in conversation with my fishing mate when the baitrunner went into meltdown and this proved to be the best one of the day. The phone hit the deck and I spilt tea all over myself, but I was on the rod in a flash and knew immediately it felt more powerful than the others. A battle of attrition began; it was a slow, powerful plodder of a fish that went mad under the rod tip; I was quite relieved to land it on the lighter hooklength. I got the scales out and it registered a respectable 9lb7oz, very nice indeed!

A couple more Chub finished the evening off and I drove home finally able to put the Friday debacle to the back of my mind.

That was as difficult and frustrating July as I can remember, on rivers that are definitely misfiring. Of course the odd good catch was still reported, but the majority of river anglers aren’t faring that well, myself included. I think the huge floods of last winter did a lot of damage and have been a contributing factor, combined with a late spawning in some locations, but I am still optimistic, and looking ahead I’m sure we will have a great autumn to compensate. In the meantime I will continue to enjoy sitting on the river bank, even if the rod tops remain unusually still!

Tight lines, Keep safe

Dave

 

 

May/June 2020

I have fallen badly behind with my blog, so in an effort to catch up I am going to condense May and June into one. I’m writing it in July anyway, so just tying up loose ends.

Obviously, the big event in mid-May was the government decision to allow fishing to recommence….Happy days!! It was a much needed bit of good news, but with hindsight it hasn’t been great for the fisheries. Every man and his dog dug out their old rods from the shed and generally the banks are as full as I have seen them.

The public headed for the banks in droves and mass trespass has been the order of the day. It is understandable that people wanted to get outdoors when permitted, but I can’t forgive the horrendous mess they left behind them. I have been raised to respect the countryside by my Dad who was a fanatical hiker, so it’s hard for me to comprehend the mentality of somebody who takes a picnic to the river bank, eats it, and then walks off leaving their detritus behind them! The situation still hasn’t settled down as I write this in late July.

After the ban was lifted I got back to my target lake in pursuit of my favourite close season quarry, the lovely Tench. I certainly can’t claim it went to plan; it was patchy, no doubt due to the angling pressure. Most of my sessions were Friday afternoons and often I was competing with the furloughed carp lads, hunting for the last vacant swim on the lake. I always managed to get on somewhere, but usually not the best locations.

Still it was good to be out and I started to get one or two Tench among the plethora of Eels (who said they were endangered, this place is crawling with them!). I had a couple of blanks to begin with, but gradually started to get a few. A couple of 4’s and 5’s, one about 6lb, but I had to wait until early June to catch a fish of note.

An angry little male!

I had modified my feeding regime on that occasion, omitting my customary particle bombardment, and it seemed to help with the Eel problem, allowing a couple of 4lb fish to get to the worm section bait. As dusk was approaching I had rip roaring take, and as it kited hard to the left I knew it had to be another Tench. I was desperate not to lose it as it felt bigger than the first fish, but it was a tricky one that came in like a lamb, then decided to make its stand under the rod top. It was touch and go but I managed to keep her out of the various lillys and slid the net under a nice big female. On first view I was convinced I had beaten my modest 8lb3oz Tench p.b. such was the size of her, but the tale of the scales was a little disappointing at 7lb11oz, a good few ounces short. I wasn’t complaining though, just grateful to have caught such a lovely specimen.

That was the week before the rivers opened for business so my attention was diverted away from Tench.

River Season

My first outing was to the tidal Trent and it proved to be a good indicator of the season so far…in short it was granite!

The good news was that it wasn’t as busy as I had feared; the bad news was the lack of fish. Not even the skimmers and chub that make a nuisance themselves were in evidence. The blank was avoided at 01:00 when I noticed a sharp tap on the rod I presumed was a chub. On close examination I could see a slight movement but it was still a surprise when I picked the rod up and it was nearly ripped out of my hand! A short sharp battle resulted in a decent 8-9lb Barbel, and that was the sum total of the action.

A soaking wet night and the picture shows it!

In the morning my mate and I headed for a day only club stretch on the middle Trent that was so overpopulated with anglers it was comical. Later in the afternoon I manged to secure a swim from a departing angler and had 3 barbel and 5 chub in a couple of hours, a vindication of the wise saying ‘an hour in the right place is better in a day in the wrong one’.

The following week I only had a few hours spare, but I got a surprise Father’s day pass and went to the River Dane. As usual I employed a mobile approach with pellet and paste for bait and thoroughly enjoyed landing half a dozen nice Chub around the 3lb mark from the same number of swims.

I was saddened to hear the following week the farmer felled pretty much every tree on the length in the name of flood prevention. This was my favourite section of the river and this has completely exposed the fish to predators, all very regrettable. I spent many peaceful hours under those old trees during a recent illness, this was my place of contemplation, now just bare earth.

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Toward the end of June I had the opportunity to visit one of my favourite rivers, the mighty Severn. I had my lads flat available in Shrewsbury so I did a couple of days. Unfortunately it coincided with scorching weather and the population of the town decended on the river like locusts. I had to miss out a couple of venues because of the crowds who ignored the ‘no trespassing’ signs and turned the river into Glastonbury.

I managed to find a quieter length and fluked a solitary splasher in 4 hours fishing…not great.

The next day I headed away from the crowds and manged a couple of decent barbel in the first hour, but it was a false dawn followed by a very long day with nothing to show for my efforts. Sabrina was really making me work this time!

Day 3 was equally as bad, just a bream for my trouble, so I went and had a walk along a new stretch, just to get an idea of its features; that was probably the most productive part of the trip, good groundwork for when the fishing improves.

That was my lot for June, the rivers played hardball as they often do early season. My theory is the severe floods at the end of last season, late spawning and incredible pressure in this strange, strange year have knocked them back a month or two. I hope things will pick up in July, but something tells me they might not. My crystal ball is saying Autumn is the right time this season.

Tight lines, stay safe

Dave

 

March 2020 Blog

Fishing is my passion and it is incredibly important to me. Not in a million years could I ever concieve of a time I would say this, but it has simply faded into insignificance due to the events taking place this March.

Coronavirus has changed the landscape of this country make no mistake, not just the obvious effects of its damage to the health of the people, but the measures put in place to combat this pandemic have destroyed peoples livelyhoods and curtailed the freedoms we all take for granted. The long term economic impact both home and abroad will be nothing short of catastrophic.

Personally, as I write this blog toward the later part of the month I am no longer at liberty to go fishing anywhere (all the club waters are closed, so at least the temptation has been removed), or drive for pleasure down the queens highway, enjoy a pint in the pub or attend a football match, but I am still working cheek by jowel in an overcrowded office….go figure!!

I temper my loss of social freedoms with the thought that all the draconian government measures can be considered to be for the best for the nation, and have my support, yet I can’t dispel a feeling of foreboding. We are under a form of martial law in effect, and once in place it will be a stubborn stain, difficult to remove completely in the future.

There are no clear timescales or outcomes, but I sincerely hope once this horrible time has passed we can return to where we once were, maybe with a better and more caring social attitude, because I see evidence of heartwarming consideration and selflessness amongst the greed and profiteering.

It all makes reporting on a few fishing trips seem a little bit trivial, but here goes anyway…

06/03/2020 River Dane

A surprisingly tough day considering it was nice and warm (almost a hint of Spring in the air!), and the river still carried the tail end of the recent storms giving a decent amount of colour, maybe a little bit too much in fact!

I decided to try the new club stretch I fished last week, when the river had been substantially higher. I was hoping I would be able to get a better picture of its features now it had settled down a little. It looked very promising too, but failed to deliver a single knock on bread flake, crust or cheesepaste, from any of the first 4 swims I had carefully pre-baited. I began to lose heart, and made the decision to bolt to more familiar waters. At least I knew if I blanked there it could be attributed to the general conditions rather than the actual venue.

I only had a limited time because of the move so I went to my flyer; no luck there, and while moving on I came across another lad trotting, who was as disappointed as me with his lot. It wasn’t fishing at all well, so I was very pleased to get a nicely conditioned 4lb chub in the next swim, on a piece of flake smeared with cheesepaste. It came out of the blue and almost ripped the rod from my hand and was very welcome indeed.

 

Wandering toward the lower limit I noticed the recent massive floods had rearranged the bankside vegetation and created an interesting gap where once had been jungle; it was too tempting to pass so I dropped a ball of liquidised bread down the edge and moved on. The next swim proved fruitless and so I decided to revisit the new swim and if I blanked I would call it a day. It was challenging to actually squeeze myself into position and casting was very restricted, but I managed to lower my rig in the edge, and just a couple of seconds later a wrenching bite and I was in business. It was short and sharp as there were snags all around, hook and hold stuff, but soon a nice chub rolled into the net, again 4lb plus, so a good one for the Dane. I was quite pleased in the end and glad I had made the move.

11/03/2020 River Severn end of season trip

It’s become something of an institution to spend the last few days of the season down on the lovely river Severn. This year I would be on my own as my mates had no holidays left.

It was all last minute, but I managed to book the B&B no problem, however, from the moment I put the phone down the rain started to pour. It was seriously heavy and Wales took the brunt over already saturated ground. The result was predictable, and by the time I set off on the Wednesday it was perilously close to flooding yet again. The locals must be pulling their hair out; it’s been in the fields and streets of the riverside towns for months.

From an angling perspective I thought it would still be fishable, but only in certain swims and there was competition to get one! I know a few such places and found my first possible destination occupied by some Ribble lads on tour.

I tried my next option and was happy to find it empty and grabbed the swim I wanted. It looked perfect but the water was still rising slowly. I was doubtful I could stay the whole day because once it came over the top it would cut off my line of retreat. I decided to chance it and set up a pair of 2.25 rods, upstream a feeder, downstream the ever reliable flood bait of lobworm. Water temp was good, 8c rising to 9c as the day progressed, but the colour went from chocolate brown to a strange milky shade I didn’t like the look of.

I kept the pellet/boilie/hemp feeder working but nothing was remotely interested, but after half an hour the worm rod arced over and produced a decent Barbel of around 6lb that battled hard.

Coming fairly early I thought I would be on for a few, so just took a quick mat shot, but it was not to be. In fact my day was cut short when the banks were breached and I had to make a frantic dash back to the car, that was also in danger of submersion. Who said fishing is a nice quiet sport…that’s the third time this season I’ve had to get out of Dodge!

12/03/2020 River Severn, Stanley

The full effects of the flood hadn’t reached the area below Bridgnorth so I headed there and found it quite empty, just a couple of lads on the flyer swims. I went downstream and set up on the first likely looking spot. Again it looked good, but the Severn was really off form. Just a lively 6lb’er and a late splasher put in an appearance, both on fishmeal boilies on the feeder.

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I tried 3 different swims over a mile of the river and generally felt like I was wasting my time, but the sun shone and there was plenty of wildlife to observe, Buzzards battling for territory with each other, followed by running battles with crows, and a spooky late encounter with a barn owl.

13/03/2020 River Severn, club water

A tad wet!

The levels had finally topped out and started to drop a little, but the colour was still there; unfortunately the temperature had fallen to 7.5C. I decided to go back upstream to a stretch I knew would be fishable at these levels, provided the swims weren’t already taken. Happily they weren’t so I jumped on and got started.

The deep slack in front of me made heavy leads unnecessary and 3oz was more than enough. I fished 2 rods and gave it my best shot, working the upstream crease with a feeder and pellet/boilie, but didn’t get a sniff. Downstream I fished the large slack and crease with straight lead and lobworm directly hooked on a size 4’s Drennan super specialist, with a rubber maggot to keep the worm in place.

Around tea time, out of the blue I had a sudden screamer and grabbed the rod hoping for a substantial Barbel to be on the end….well it was a Barbel but just a splasher, not very impressive but it was a fish at least. I hoped it would herald a few bites as dusk approached but it was to be the only action of a long, long day.

Now there was just one more day left until the season finished and I wasn’t optimistic of sport improving, so I drowned my sorrows in the pubs again and had a nice curry in compensation.

What could be nicer, a perfect pint of Wye valley with lovely warm feet!!

14/03/2020 River Severn, club water

Last chance saloon as the saying goes, the infamous 15th of March, last day of the river fishing season, but somehow I woke in a positive mood. There was an encouraging mild breeze, the river had continued to drop and it just felt more ‘fishy’. I headed back towards Shrewsbury where I would be spending the night at my lads flat, so I knew I had until 18:00 to try and salvage something from an awful few days fishing.

I was heading past the venue I had tried on the first day of the trip, and couldn’t help stopping for a look; surprise, surprise, the carpark was empty! Better the Devil you know I thought, and was on it like a flash.

After the week I’d had I wasn’t expecting much, and thats basically what I got! It was a long slow morning, but the river gradually fell and some of the colour dropped out, and it began to look a bit more promising.

Early afternoon I noticed a few small taps on the downstream worm rod, and was hovering over it wondering what was nibbling, when the top suddenly lurched downward furiously…I was in business!

I had a few close calls as the fish went for the submerged snags, but eventually she rolled into the net, the best fish of the trip at around 8lb. The fact that I was so pleased with an average Severn barbel showed just how tough the fishing had been.

Another couple of hours passed without incident and the fat lady was about to let rip; I was even packing some kit away when the upstream feeder rod finally wrenched over, and after a spirited fight a 6lb fish was in the net.

Like London buses you wait all day…even as I was releasing that fish the worm rod screamed off and another of around 5lb was bagged. Trust Sabrina to throw me a bone just as I had to leave…and on the last evening of the season! I am now convinced I would have had a few more had I been able to stick it out!!

 

That was that, the season ended with a bit of a whimper, but I enjoyed a great night out in Shrewsbury later with Alex. He doesn’t fish and was less than excited by my constant references to the Severn and how I was already missing it and couldn’t wait to see Sabrina once again in June!!

Apart from a couple of hours on my chosen Tench water for the river closed season, resulting in my first blank, I didn’t fish again in March. Boris saw to that!!

I hope this crap is over as quickly as it seemed to start, and with the minimum of casualties and inconvenience. To everybody I know (or don’t know), please take care of yourselves, accept the restrictions for now and spend time with your kin. I’m just going to pretend its the old days with a full fishing close season. Can you imagine the joy of that first day we can fish again, or the party when the pubs re-open??

Keep safe and well

Tight lines

Dave

 

 

February 2020 Blog

The calm before the storm!

Two huge storm cells, dubbed Ciara and Dennis dominated February, causing carnage across the UK. Any possible fishing opportunities promised by the influx of relatively warm water were destroyed by record breaking levels, with many rivers breaching their banks.

The practicalities of actually travelling to the venues, and safety issues once there, was bad enough to dissuade me from risking it for one weekend, but other than that I still got out and gave it a go when I thought it was safe to do so.

02/02/2020 to 03/02/2020 River Severn, upper mid

Saturday

I was fortunate to have my lads flat in Shrewsbury at my disposal for the weekend, so I gleefully planned a session on the Severn. My mate Kris was coming down on Sunday to meet me for the day, so I headed over Saturday morning, feeling really positive as the conditions looked absolutely spot on, with a warm air temperatures and a meter of extra water, but sadly my expectations were dashed in some style by a horrible blank!

I had recently joined a club based in the town, boasting several stretches of the river I was itching to try. I chose purely from the brief description on the website, but after a look around I felt confident I would catch. My first swim was in the woods on the outside of a sweeping bend, with deep water at a steady pace right under my feet, and it looked very promising to my eyes. However, despite ringing the changes, 3 hours later I hadn’t had so much as a tap.

A move was in order so I made my way with some difficulty a few hundred metres downstream, struggling through the trees with assembled rods and all the other paraphernalia, to my back-up swim, where my lack of success continued in much the same vein.

As mentioned previously, the conditions were so good, especially for February, that I was very surprised I didn’t catch, or at least get a knock or two on the lobworm from a Chub. I packed up slightly embarrassed, with my mojo in tatters, and even managed to stumble into somebodies back garden while trying to find my way back to the car in the dark….all things considered it was the proverbial ‘bad day at the office’!

There was only one thing for it; I drowned my sorrows in the fine hostelries of Shrewsbury and tried to forget, but I must have sounded very pissed off when I rang my mate to arrange the following days session.

Sunday

Thankfully I woke up in a more positive frame of mind (despite hangover!) and vowed to enjoy myself, with or without fish. With flask and snacks in my bag, things could only get better!

We met on the bank of another club stretch a few miles downstream of yesterday’s venue, a section I have only fished once before; on that occasion it was carrying 3m of raging flood water. It might as well have been a different river today with just a meter on, and in truth it looked a bit featureless. My mate didn’t fancy it much, but I talked him into giving it a chance. I headed downstream and found a decent looking swim where the main flow of the river came toward my bank. I figured the fish would be on the edge of it and I placed a feeder with pellet hookbait upstream, and a lump of flavoured spam on a straight lead rig downstream in an interesting looking slack area that I fancied might hold a few lazy barbel keeping out of the flow.

Half an hour in I had a change of heart and swapped that rig to lobworm, which has proved to be my most effective cold water Barbel bait this winter, and within 10 minutes the worm had worked its magic again, as the rod went off like a rocket; a nice 5lb’er was the culprit. This was soon followed by a larger specimen of around 8-8.5lb again on the worm. Both fish were in prime condition and really fought well, and after yesterday I was mightily relieved.

It went a bit quiet for the next hour or two, so I wound in and went for a wander to see my mate for a catch-up. He was perched precariously on a muddy bank, 10ft above the turbulent water. I suggested he came and found somewhere safer. This he did, and went a few hundred metres downstream of me, to a lovely crease swim hidden in the woods. I went for a look and it was so fishy, I really fancied he would get something before dark.

Back in my swim, as dusk approached another flurry of fish on the pellet feeder rod, 2 around 5-6lb and a very lively one that might have scraped 9lb if I’d weighed it. I have really fallen out of the habit of weighing my barbel lately, mainly due to laziness if I’m honest.

My mates swim finally exploded at dusk, he had 3 fish in 20 mins including a double hook up and a Barbel of 10lb1oz, his first Severn double, which illustrated the importance of being patient and waiting for that short feeding spell, whenever that might be, on these cold days.

He called it quits at that point but I couldn’t resist hanging on an hour and had 2 more, another 5-6lb and a larger one around 8lb.

Seven fish on a cold day, 3 of which were over the 8lb mark in my estimation, was a good return and I really enjoyed it after yesterday’s troubles.

Crampons

During the session the bailiff came along to check cards, and I was impressed with some crampons he had on over his Muck boots. The Severn had been bank high recently and everywhere was coated in silt; it was deadly underfoot and despite fishing a fairly flat swim and also wearing Muckboots, I was Bambi on ice, while he was like a mountain goat in comparison! It’s a sad fact of life that the older I get the less indestructible I feel, so anything that can help is welcome.

He swore by these crampons, and when he told me they were around £15 on Amazon I was sold! With the incredible volumes of water that were dumped by storm Ciara and Dennis, I’m sure they will be getting a good workout before the season ends. Watch this space for a review!

07/02/20 Mid River Dane

Hard frost Thursday night put the mockers on any plans for travelling too far; with the chances of a Barbel unlikely, there’s not much point driving 40 miles to the Ribble to fish for Chub when I can catch them more locally.

I went to meet a pal on a club water but found the carpark full, probably dog walkers, but there isn’t any alternative parking so I called him to apologise for my absence and headed further downstream.

The river was 0.1m up and still had a touch of colour, but the frost had done its worst. Nothing came from the first ‘banker’ swim, and nothing from the second…I was getting twitchy; then out of the blue the tip flew round in the third, a nice fish in fine fettle of around 4lb couldn’t resist the cheesepaste.

Another walk and another nice Chub of 3lb came from a slack under the overhanging trees, things were looking up now. I plodded onward to the lower limit of my swims, and suffered another biteless 20 minutes in a fancied lie…they were playing hard to get today!

By now it was getting toward dusk, and I had just one more spot above a copse of trees to try, strewn invitingly with rafts of flotsam from the floods… surely this would produce!

Just half a minute and I was in business, and it was a good one that lead me a merry dance, requiring maximum side strain to keep it out of the roots; it was touch and go on the light tackle, but the fish was turned and was soon in the net, the best of the day, again un-weighed but over 4lb, maybe a scraper 4.5lb.

The wind was numbing by now, the prelude to the visit of storm Ciara who battered the UK over the weekend. I called time and was glad I had taken my opportunity early. Three decent Chub, all fell for cheesepaste, and all were in great winter condition.

21/02/20 Mid River Ribble, club water

You may notice I missed out last weekend….it was all my own fault because I deferred my usual Friday session to Sunday, expecting to take advantage of the forthcoming storm Dennis, and the ‘warm’ rain predicted on the weather apps. Unfortunately I, (like most of the UK) totally underestimated just how much water was to come, and when the various rivers I fish all reached close to (or surpassed) record highs over Saturday night, I reluctantly had to call it off. I love a bit of flood fishing but not when the banks are breached and the rivers are in the fields.

Thankfully during the week the Ribble dropped fast and gave some respite to the unfortunate householders in the vicinity. I have sympathy with them but not with the government policy of building new houses on the flood plain…that is just madness, and the rapid drainage from all the other new estates in the valleys just passes the problem downstream to the next victims. Flood plains are nature’s way of dealing with heavy rain, allowing slow dispersal of the water and a place for rivers to expand into at times of critical flooding, but the powers that be seem hell bent on building on them, then profess surprise when they get washed out!!

The fast fall of the river gave me something of a false dawn, just under 0.8m above normal level and falling on the gauge was perfect in my book so I set off post haste to a favourite club stretch. I even chose to fish the furthest swim, but I couldn’t help noticing the rain just got heavier and heavier as I set up. It was a deluge of biblical intensity and it just kept coming; I realised my swim would turn nasty and I couldn’t think of any other on the stretch that would be ok if it flooded, so I had to make a decision. Just an hour after walking over a mile with full kit across swampy fields I was on my way back to the car!!

The second venue boasted 3 flood swims I have caught fish from with up to 2.5m of flood water, so I felt it was the right place to go. I was happy to see an empty carpark and set up in a swim with slack water nearside, but within an hour the river was behind me and I was in danger of being stranded. Once again I grabbed my gear and clambered up the bank and headed for the last remaining refuge from the storm, another near-bank slack swim.

This was my final chance so I stuck a huge lobworm on one rod, and a big paste wrapped boile on the other and under-armed them to the edge of the maelstrom. I withdrew to the shelter of my brolley and had a brew, I was drenched and freezing cold with the howling wind, and in truth I had no expectations other than trying to stay warm, and sticking it out until the traffic died down, but fate had other ideas…would you believe it, the lobworm rod walloped over and I was into a fish!!

It was a tricky fight because I was in all probability fishing over the grass bank where I would be sitting in normal conditions…today there was 4m of water on top of it but it didn’t stop the fish burying itself in the snags. I gave it a chance to swim out but it wasn’t happening, so I had to resort to a gentle heave and hope, and to my relief the lead came free and the fight was on again. Another couple of powerful runs that had my heart in my mouth, and she rolled into the net. Well that put a new perspective on a really difficult day, I was well chuffed.

There is no doubt the barbel are spurred to feed when the river goes skywards, provided the temperatures are ok; the problem is how to actually put a bait to them. The choice of fishable swims reduces as the level increases until there is literally nowhere left to try, but if you can find a slack on the nearside where you can keep a bait static on the edge of the flow, avoiding the debris that inevitably becomes the over-riding issue to presentation, you could be in for a treat.

If your rig is too light it will roll into the debris and tackle losses will be certain, there’s no place for subtlety in these conditions, 12lb line, 15lb braid hooklink, size 4’s super specialist. Worms are what the fish will be finding so they are always my go-to bait. Second choice is a big lump of flavoured luncheon meat, but pellets and boilies still work.

The Ribble rose from 0.8 to 4m in 4 hours, the ground was already saturated so it wasn’t a massive surprise, but the rapidity was a shock. My advice is to always put safety first, good footwear, sensible swim choices with firm banks, be aware of your surroundings at all times, especially if you are fishing into the dark; falling in won’t end well!

Ribble flood fishing…Safety First!

So February is gone, one of the wettest months in the soggiest of winters I can recall, but temperatures have held up and consequently the Barbel have kept on feeding. Happy days provided your house isn’t too close to a river!!

I have a few days off for the ‘end of season’ last fling. I plan to head for the Severn, currently just dropping into its proper place after spending a happy couple of months exploring the fields of Shropshire. Usually this trip is blighted with snow and frost but it looks more promising this year…. but please, no more rain now!!!!

Tight lines

Dave