After the blank on day 2 and a couple of days off from fishing for a rest, Gavin and I set off to another Yorkshire river. I had only visited this river once previously and had really enjoyed it. I had a chub fest of a large magnitude on my previous visit but this time decided to try a different location a few miles downstream. I am a great believer in fishing on the first bend below a weir, particularly early season. It has worked every where, even Spain. Just look for a nice even pace below a weir and that’s where the barbel will be, especially if the bottom is gravel. I don’t find that the depth is that important early season either, I’m no expert but it seems to work for me. When I’ve spotted a place like that on the map I usually get confirmation that it is OK from a local tackle shop or Hobby who has usually already been there
The journey was eventful, it was early morning and the winding road was obscured by that swirling mist that you get in river valleys; it always heightens my anticipation. I saw a little owl and nearly knocked about 50 rabbits over, the road was over-run with them and they really are unpredictable. I nearly went off the road on a tight bend trying to miss an errant bunny after I had been staring at a 10 foot high steaming pile of manure, I confess that I was daydreaming a little and thinking, ‘Bloody hell it’s 5:00 am what time do the bloody farmers get up?’ It was a bit tricky to find the turn-off and so we got there about 15 minutes later than planned, I rang Gavin who had arrived a little before me and he said
‘Have you missed the turn off?’,
‘Yes I must have I think.’
‘Did you see the big pile of turd?’
‘Yes, it was steaming like a volcano!’
‘It’s there.’
With such an obvious landmark I soon found the lane to the river which looked good with a fair amount of colour in it. There was not much flow down our edge but lots of features both up and downstream. There were also some far bank willows with good flow and so I elected to have one rod mid river in the main flow and one tight up to the willows. I actually used a clip so that I could ensure that I was accurate in terms of distance, I find that this works well when you only need 2oz leads or feeders, also I am crap at casting, although I am improving. I used to be much better before I had my 12 year lay off from fishing. I bet the swims we chose are real fliers in a flood and that the fish are right under your feet. They were comfy enough and we were able to have a conversation once we’d shaken off the cobwebs, the upstream swims felt a bit exposed and much less likely to hold fish so a roving approach was ruled out. I was confident that the fish would be in front of us. Gavin had been in the pub the night before and being the dedicated angler he is had had shandy, very impressive that Gavin mate.
It became evident that the fish were mid river quite early on with lots of bangs a rattles from silver fish, I stuck with a large bait so that it would survive the onslaught. There were lots of Dace and Roach here, I was wishing that I’d brought a float rod at one point and both Gavin and I agreed that we need to come back and fish stick and pin. Of course there was also a good number of predators in attendance, one or two were decent sized lumps according to the splashes and thrashes. Predators learn really quickly as well, after about 2 hours every cast was accompanied by the same scene. The feeder hit the water and then 5 seconds later the water erupted with dace and roach about 2 yards downstream as the prey fish desperately tried to escape as the pike or perch smashed into the shoal. It was so predictable it got amusing after a while; one thing is for sure shoals of prey fish never learn!
Gavin and I both caught a roach each, mine was around 12oz and in both cases the fish were much more slimy than river roach usually are, why they were as snotty as bream, I don’t know. Eventually however Gavin hooked what was obviously a barbel which swam straight upstream and around the back of a fallen tree, it was jammed solid. This was not good, it was Gavin’s first visit to the river and obviously his first barbel, but of far more importance was the possibility of a tethered fish. Of course we only use running legers but there is always the possibility that a fish could come to harm. The fish was given slack line but just continued to take line upstream and around the tree and showed no interest in swimming into the mid river or downstream which would have helped. Only one thing for it, into the river Gavin went and discretely out came my iPhone.
Nice camo Gavin, thank goodness for that blue cap
After Gavin’s interesting wrestle with the tree in fairly deep water between us we managed to land Gavin’s fish which went 8lb 1oz and was a really pretty barbel, very vibrant colours that reminded me of river Nidd barbel. The fish recovered quickly and swam off strongly to grow even bigger, straight back under the tree I suspect!
Gavin's cracking 8lb 1 oz fish - please sir when is it my turn?
Gavin’s fish came at 1:15 pm and I was beginning to think that we were seeing a rather unexpected trend, the fish were feeding freely but later in the day than we perhaps expected. I then caught a dog of a chub that looked really old for a 3lb fish, it certainly didn’t look in as good nick as the specimens that I had caught a few miles upstream the previous autumn.
Finally at about 5pm I got my barbel, it was smaller at 6lb 6 oz but never the less was more than welcome and my 19th river and also one step closer to my ambition of catching a barbel from every Yorkshire river known to hold them. This will be a life’s work I suspect!
Me sporting another inane grin, fish only 6lb 6oz but lovely all the same
We then had a bit of a shower which was welcome as I was roasting hot and after around 40 minutes of this I had a second fish of a similar size to the first, although it was a real live-wire making a few of those seemingly impossible lunges before coming to the net. I am always a bit surprised at the power of barbel for the first week of the new season. I’m taking my fly fishing mate Steve on the Trent at the weekend and he is a barbel virgin, I’m looking forward to his slightly uncomfortable smile as the fish nearly pulls the rod in, because of course, he will catch one or two.
The civilised timing of the fish meant that we would not be staying into dark which is always a bonus so as twilight approached and it started raining again I decided enough was enough and packed up. Gavin was just about to wind in when wham over went his rod and he landed a beauty of exactly 9lb. Notice he was dry after his earlier dunking and now clad in normal clothing, the camo stuff was never meant for public viewing I suspect.
At twilight and just before he was going to reel in - whack! This 9lb fish was the result
What a belting day and a place where we are sure to return.
The new season was eagerly anticipated this year, in complete contrast to last season when I had suffered an almost total burnout. This was due to a number of things; financial uncertainty at work, too much fishing in the close season, internet rows (which I hate) and a general malaise due to some underlying health issues which I allowed to get on top of me. This year my health is better and I am enjoying a lot more security at work, although there is a lot more to do.
I have been fly fishing quite regularly from March to early May and caught plenty of fish on dry flies which I enjoyed; the best of which was a 10lb 7oz rainbow from Kinsey Park near Grassington. I made a conscious decision not to fish at all for 3 weeks leading up to the opening day of the season and booked 4 days off work: the 16th, 17th, 20th and 21st June. Besides The Association of Barbel Fishers has really taken off and I have had a lot of behind the scenes work to do. We have 3 fisheries two of which have sold out, the second issue of Riffle the ABF magazine, the AGM coming up in July and our first charity raffle. It is of course very gratifying to see things going well and the vibrant and friendly members forum is an added bonus.
My first four days were to be spent on Yorkshire rivers where I had never caught barbel before, two of which I had visited in excess of 10 times trying, the first 2 days resulted in success on day one and a blank on day 2.
Day 1, 16th June
I travelled up North the evening before opening day to meet a fairly new acquaintance of mine called Gavin. I have known Gavin about 9 months and we get along very well , he has lots of funny tales, knows the river very well as he probably fishes it more than anyone else. He also has accommodation right on the banks of the river, it is a lovely place he has and it is a privilege to be able to stay there. So I feel it is important to thank him profusely before I go on. So Gavin consider yourself profusely thanked.
Gavin and I decided have a walk and then a few beers before getting up at a first light to fish a river which has a huge sentimental pull for me. I used to live right on it’s banks and could see the river from my bedroom window every morning. I have almost always caught when I have fished there, even in the dead of winter with heavy snowfall, however, I had yet to catch a barbel from the river and that is why I had decided to have a go there on day one. We had a walk and I spotted a barbel near some weed beds, the river was quite clear and we were hoping for some cloud cover. There had been a fairly substantial down pour in the afternoon before I arrived and we thought perhaps the river might colour up a little. We were going to fish at first light which is between 4 and 4:30 am but I had my last beer at 1 am rather foolishly – thing is, we had lots to talk (and laugh) about.
During the night it really tipped it down and we were a little late on the bank, Gavin had been down the previous afternoon and cut a gap in the nettles so we made our way down to the river braving the, by now, slippery bank. We got there for about 5:15 and I cast in at about 5:30. The river had coloured up nicely and rose a couple of inches so it was looking good. At 6:12 I got a walloping great take and rapidly realised that I was connected to my intended quarry. The fight was very powerful and strong; a reminder of why I spend so much of my time in pursuit of barbel. It is true to say that I have lost my barbel myopia and I am pretty happy to catch anything these days but there is no doubt at all that the barbel is still at the top of my list. We did the honours and photographed the lovely blemish free fish which swam away strongly, it fact it was a very strong fish – I wore it around my ears twice during our attempt to get a photo.
Day one success - 7lb 1oz of pure muscle and another new river for me
After great deal of whooping and back slapping I realised that Gavin was as pleased as me with the capture, I made a mental note to share some of the treasures that I had found with him. It was a very generous gesture indeed. The was an obvious lull in fish activity from around 7pm until early afternoon when I had another barbel, this time we didn’t weigh the fish but it was 5-6lbs and again gave a good account of itself. From that moment on there was constant activity, we both had knocks and twitches all afternoon. At around 3:30 pm I lost another barbel in a snag, most usual but I think it is fair to say that I was not that alert after our late night and very early start and perhaps on another day I would have got the fish out. It is probably also fair to say that the hook hold wasn’t that good as I did not put that much pressure on the fish. We sat it out until dark but boy were we knackered. The day ended with me having caught 2 barbel and a chub and Gavin 3 chub and a jack pike that liked garlic spam. We went back to base happy with our day’s fishing, we had a good laugh and banter and caught some fish on a lovely river which I shall return to shortly.
Day 2, 17th June
After 18 hours of fishing after 2.5 hours sleep we had a lie-in the next day. We went to the tackle shop to buy a few bits and got to the river bank about mid day. I was torn between fishing a stretch with a ‘reputation’ for producing big fish and a weirpool with some gravels below it. We opted for the place with a ‘reputation’ and failed miserably. I lasted until about 8pm and to be honest I was doing the nodding dog impression most of the day. I have blanked on this river 10 times in 12 trips and so I have very little confidence. Gavin had a skimmer and 2 other bites all day. However on Monday I’ll be trying again, I need to get this monkey off my back!
I hope to make a big update to the blog on Sunday. I have to wind up the old season tales and add the fluff chucking stuff. The ABF has been keeping me very busy, loads to do with more and more members and 3 fisheries. Of course once the new season starts the normal trip by trip service will be restored.
After an extremely mad fortnight at the factory I was relishing the last few days of the season and I had booked the 10,11th and 14th off work. I had decided to split the last few days equally between Perch and barbel fishing and Thursday was Perch day. I had a load of domestic stuff to do in the morning plus I wanted a lie-in after getting up so early last weekend and all week so far.
It had been really windy on Wednesday evening and Thursday morning so I was expecting some difficulty, I had ruled out float fishing completely and so I would have to fish with a link leger again. I’d be interested to know how experienced Perch fishers deal with high winds and the shy bites? The wind was pretty fierce and blowing away from the ever present bird scarer which was a muted pop as opposed to the usual supersonic boom! I didn’t dare to leave the line slack as it would invariably end up wrapped around something on the bank or in the margins. A tight line was the only way but it resulted in many missed bites as I struggled to interpret whether the rod tip movement was a bite or the wind battering the rod tip. By the time I’d decided the fish had dropped the worm – bloody frustrating! That was no where near as frustrated as the collection of leaves that were in the margins but blowing around just enough to foul up the line from time to time. No matter what angle I put the rod the leaves would just change direction and foul up the line. In the end I removed a large pile with the landing net and put them well away from where I was fishing.
I fished from about 1pm until dark and really struggled until the last hour when the wind dropped a little. I eventually winkled out a lovely looking Perch of an ounce under 2lb. I had missed at least 4 bites (probably more) so it would have been a pretty good afternoon’s fishing if it had not been so windy. I did try touch legering as well but just couldn’t get comfortable. I prefer fishing in the pouring rain than in windy weather. Still it was infinitely better than being at work!
I have quite a lot to say over the coming days as I have fished quite a bit this last week or so, a mixed bag to be honest and afterwards time for reflection perhaps? I’ll do the fishing reports first and then babble on about the last seasons events and what I think of them. I currently do not have the facility to do my blog or my personal emails from work so it is more difficult than usual, I am also pretty busy and then knackered when I get home. The new IT system at work has highly sensitive data on it and so it is like Fort Knox or almost as impregnable as my wallet. My employers are quite happy for me to bring a self contained, internet enabled laptop or net-book into work for personal use, just so long as I do not connect anything to their network. So I will have to get something sorted and sharpish!
Fishing bit
I got up very early on Sunday to see if those Perch would feed again the next day, in particular I was interested to see what they were like early morning. I ambled down to the river just as dawn was breaking and when I reached the apex of the hill marking the start of my descent; there in the swirling mist, in the the valley bottom and at the edge of the field were four Roe deer. The group consisted of 2 yearlings and 2 fully grown females. I could see the steam of their breath albeit briefly because they soon detected my presence and set of at a leisurely trot up the far side of the hill to some tree cover. They then vanished! How do deer do that? As soon as they get into some woodland, no matter how sparse; they just disappear.
I was set up very quickly as I was travelling tackle and had left the rigs on from the previous day. I checked that the hooks were sharp and then tried my usual combination, a link leger upstream and a float rig downstream. It was a truly lovely morning, I really was alone with nature – not a soul anywhere around for at least the first two hours. I made a recording of some jackdaws and a pair of woodpeckers on my phone; I’ll add the audio to the site when I figure out how to do it.
Next bit of nature was what I thought was an otter on the far bank and then later swimming across the river from some 80 yards below me. I have seen the otters on the Yorkshire Derwent and the Yorkshire Ouse and I was sure that’s what I saw but I am assured by a mate of mine who has another friend who is a naturist that it was a mink. Quite why waving your knob about in public makes you an authority on otters is a mystery to me.
So we’ll say that it was a mink then.
Next lovely sight was a grey squirrel running down a branch overhanging the river to take a drink, that was a spectacle I assure you. You can probably tell by now that I didn’t get the merest hint of a bite all morning and by 12:30 I decided to move. I had been sent a photo of a very large Perch from a pond near me, which appears below.
Big Perch from a local pond, what do you reckon it weighed?
Not the best quality and obviously taken on a phone but I’m sure you’ll agree that it was a big fish and that the venue was worth a punt. So I headed for Leeds to get some maggots as my options were limited at 1pm on a Sunday afternoon. On route to the tackle shop I saw a red kite only 30 feet from the floor; aren’t they absolutely beautiful creatures?
I picked Ricky up who by this time had recovered from the previous night’s excesses and we went float fishing on a pond. Ricky fished red maggot and I stuck with my lobworms until about 20 minutes before dark I put a maggot on and caught a few lovely roach just to avoid the blank! I reckon that I’ll have one of those big perch from that pond at some point.
So I have established that big Perch don’t feed on 2 consecutive days, I was told by a few experienced perch fishers that this was not unusual. I enjoyed my day nonetheless, it was a lovely day to be out on the banks and I had seen some amazing wildlife as well.
More bloggage to follow when I can find the time………
Lousy title I know but it’s true, three is a magic number as you will see when you read on……
Hull
I did not fish on the weekend of the 26th and 27th of February because I was slain by a stomach bug of biblical proportions: 14 hours of OBE on the Saturday from 06:00 when I got up to go fishing. I had to advise Rich Walker that I wouldn’t be joining him after all. What a really torrid time I had that weekend, not only that on Monday morning I was to set off for that delightful fishing village called Hull to do some lab testing for work and I really HAD to go. I starved myself all of Saturday and Sunday and celebrated my first slice of toast and dry fart for 48 hours on Monday morning – I would go to Hull after all. I stayed there until late Thursday evening and actually it wasn’t so bad after all. There were a few funny moments interspersed will long periods of boredom.
Funny moment #1 – I got up for breakfast in the hotel which was served in a conservatory attached to the adjoining pub. The conservatory a little patio area out back on some wooden decking. The wind was howling and the rain was lashing the decking just like it was the deck of yacht on some inhospitable sea. As I glanced up from my coffee cup I saw one of the most ridiculous bits of pub restaurant marketing I have ever seen; just above the patio doors leading to the decking was a sign that read ‘Alfresco Dining’ – Alfresco fekkin Dining! I kid you not it’s true. I bet that this particular chain of hotel/pubs has this sign above a patio near you where you too may enjoy Alfresco Dining or even a pub meal out in the beer garden. Clearly the marketeer responsible for this wonderful bit of signage knows nowt of the cynical Englander.
Funny moment #2 – I was fairly late eating one evening and a pub quiz had got under-way – the pub was pretty busy with a good mixture of age groups and social backgrounds, as a pub should be. One of the questions was ‘Where did the Great Fire of London originate?’ My mate Monty was able to inform me that it was in Pudding Lane (although I already knew bless him) but he is a font of knowledge on all things London that’s for sure! Anyway getting back to the quiz – the question was asked and a rather exuberant youth of the tattooed fuckwit variety exclaimed ‘ It’s fucking London innt!’. He stood up and exclaimed this in a very broad accent which I am ashamed to say was of a Barnsley origin and not Hull and looked at everyone like they were prize idiots. We all agreed that he was quite right, not sure why his mate went ‘Oh ‘eck!’ as he stood up and made his exclamation.
Funny moment #3 – Well it was more funny moments really. I met Paul Johnson for the first time, he was good enough to share a few pints with me at my company’s expense (tasted better for it) and beguile me with tales of Biggun’s chair escapades and other bits and bobs. Paul is an adept cane rod builder, resident of Hull and splendid fellow all round.Thanks for the company Paul it was a pleasure mate, if I had the money I would have definitely succumbed to the lure of the sticks by now. Cane rods are lovely things made by nice people for other people’s pleasure. One day I will have me a nice cane rod………..
Saturday 5th March
My new PB and my first 3lb Perch
So off I went in pursuit of big river perch again late on Saturday morning, this time I went alone and as I had to pick up a new club book for the stretch in question it was 2 pm by the time I actually sat down by the river. I would get 4 hours in so it was enough, not only that but it was a good walk of about a mile – downhill on the way there fortunately. I fished 2 rods, one with a single swan shot link leger slightly upstream near the cover of some overhanging trees and one straight in front with a float fished with about 6 inch laid on, fished static. Bait was a big fat lobworm in both cases.
Firstly a couple of observations – when you read about big Perch people keep banging on about how delicate the bites are and how they will drop the bait if they feel the slightest resistance. Well I have fished for them enough times to say that it is definitely true of big Perch and lobworms. Minimal resistance is essential, if it’s not too windy and the water is pretty slack I end up fishing with a slack line when legering – float fishing is inherently a low resistance method anyway and there is a lot to be said for it.
I had my first fish of about 1 lb 12 oz on the float within half an hour, it’s nice watching the float move a bit – bob – bob and then that sideways sliding moment as it goes under – fantastic. Couple that with a nice rod and centrepin and there cannot be a better way of catching river Perch and the fish here seem to be of a good stamp. Next fish was on the leger and as soon as I saw it I knew it was a good un – could it be? Yes it was! Weighing exactly 3lbs it was the realisation of an ambition of mine – a 3lb perch from a river. It fought like a tiger – what a glorious creature and what a good day it was turning out to be – in fact no other bites were required to be honest. However there were more bites and I ended up with 7 Perch; all but one were over 1.5 lbs, the best 3 fish were 2lb 1oz, 3lb and 3lb 4 oz! The biggest fish came on the float to the most delicate of bites, I was in two minds about whether to strike or not.
3lb 4oz - 2 PBs in a day - fantastic!
Sorry about the poor images, I took them on my iPhone, my proper camera was sat at home on the kitchen table waiting to be picked up. I was also wounded by a perch for the first time, does this entitle me to join any club or anything like that? Here is the wound:
Telltale puncture marks of a perch wound - didn't hurt mind
I can tell you that I will be spending my winters fishing for Perch in subsequent seasons, I really do love em! The 1 mile walk back to van was uphill but to be honest I hardly felt it such was my euphoria, OK not quite euphoria but I was well chuffed. I went again on Sunday the story of which will follow, I also have a recording of some woodpeckers that I’d like to try and put up on the blog if I can figure it out, oh and I need to tell you about the River Dearne Access Steering Group – no it’s not a group to show you all the best swims but it does have a crap name.
Oh I nearly forgot Sunday’s excellent result against the Mancs was sweet! A hat trick as well – like I say 3 is the magic number. Wasn’t too unhappy to see the Leeds result either, yes a good weekend.
I have already alluded to the fact that I had a really really shitty week at work, no one’s fault it just was. My need to de-stress and unwind by a river was great and as I had an appointment on Sunday with she who must (occasionally) be obeyed it would have to be Saturday. I had given it some thought and reasoned that the thing that was most likely to cheer me up and restore my equilibrium would be a nice river Perch. Those of you who occasionally read this blog will know that I have been failing dismally in this task so far but I am far more optimistic than most people think. I tend to be quite negative vocally but inside I’m full of optimism, honest I am. Why else would I set off to a catch an elusive big fish from difficult Yorkshire spate river in the snow? Because I was full of optimism that’s why.
I looked at the river levels and they looked spot on and after a late start due to a few domestic chores I went to pick up Ricky. Ricky likes Perch and his house was only a 2 mile detour so I thought why not? Besides I might need a hand to get the van out of the snow later, despite the risks I was determined and so off we went.
Traffic was light which was just as well considering the appalling visibility, people had sensibly stayed at home. The snow was falling in huge great big flakes and was sticking to the ground reducing motorway speeds to about 40 mph. We got to the river at about midday and to be honest I had a feeling that the snow would not stick around long, the ground was not frozen and the air temperature was around 3 or 4C. There wasn’t a trace of wind and so actually it felt pretty warm. It was still snowing as we walked down toward the fishery though, which we had to ourselves for some reason.
Ricky is a noisy, clumsy and fidgety so & so and I was instilling in him the importance of keeping quiet. ‘Ricky mate, none of yer gret clod hopping lolloping around today mate, we will be fishing right in the margins and the fish will only be 15 feet from where you are standing. You have got to be as stealthy as you can manage, no running down the bank and try approaching where the bank is more gentle so you don’t slip.’ That might sound daft coming from a chubby chubster like me but actually I am more likely to go arse over tit than a lightweight and so I have learned how to be quiet and how to stay semi-upright like my ancestors (relatives?). Anyway just as I was explaining all this to Ricky a bird scarer went off not 20 feet from my ear hole. I thought my ear would be bleeding, it certainly caused temporary tinnitus and made me lean over a bit. I cannot possibly print what I think Ricky was saying but there were a few expletives I’m guessing. We decided that we would time it so that we would pass it just after it went off on the return leg of the journey. As it turned out there was no need because it had a light sensor and didn’t go off once the light faded. Technology eh, they even have computer chips on things that go BOOM!
I was travelling very light and so it was no problem to walk to the lower limit of the stretch just to spot some of the likely looking swims. Actually after about 1km there were a lot of likely looking swims, we were somewhat spoiled for choice. I suggested that we started at the bottom of the stretch and walked back, thus getting nearer the van as the light faded, although it was difficult because there were some really good looking swims that we had to pass. We fished each swim for 20 minutes, with a single lobworm on a link leger in the margins. My plan was to fish with a float rod and a link leger but that was before Ricky came along. He is a heathen and so I gave him the Torrix with the bright red Spro reel whereas I used my float rod with the Okuma centrepin. It made no odds to me because I was fishing with a slack line at about a rod length out. The 3rd swim produced the first bite which resulted in a fish snagged up in a tree root for me, I have to say it felt like a perch.
The first fish actually fell to Ricky, it was a stripey and it weighed 2lb 2oz and looked lovely as it came out of the water, a PB for Ricky and that fish alone was worth braving the weather for. I was really happy for him and really confident that I’d get a few for myself now that we had located the fish. The photo clearly shows that there was snow on the ground and Ricky’s hat clearly shows that he was determined to keep his ears warm. Cracking fish!
Ricky with his PB Perch of 2lb 2oz - notice the snow!
I was aware that fish would probably be holed up around that area but we moved just to rest them for a bit, I’d lost one and Ricky had one out but we had found the fish reasonably early and so could move and come back later. That is exactly what we did. I ended up catching 3 cracking Perch of 2lb 1 oz, 2 lb 2oz and my PB river Perch of 2lb 13oz, I also had a bonus chub of around 2lb as well, all fantastic fun on light tackle and the Perch gave me a great sense of achievement. The snow changed to rain which eventually stopped and then a mist and fog descended, this caused us some problems with condensation on the lens of the camera but we eventually got a decent photo. It was quite a bit lighter than the photo of would seem to indicate, I didn’t want to attempt to explain to Ricky how to switch the flash off and change the exposure time whilst holding a fish so the background looks artificially dark. We were walking back up to the van well before dark, in fact it was still light as we drove home.
My 2lb 13oz Perch, the grin says it all
Big river Perch are absolutely beautiful creatures and I am counting the days until the next chance I get to fish for them, next time with a float methinks. Of course it would be remiss of me not to thank those that have given me help in realising my ambition to catch a big river Perch, one publicity shy individual in particular has been very helpful, he knows who he is, thanks mucker!
Forgive the bingo analogy but Sunday was a very different day from Saturday in many respects. I was determined to go fishing though because I had a really crazy week of work ahead, you can tell how mad it actually turned out by virtue of the fact that it has taken me a whole week to find the time to write anything on the blog. It is not due to a lack of enthusiasm for blogging either; I genuinely did not have the time or energy. So excuses out of the way, what happened Sunday?
Firstly I should mention that I got out of bed on Saturday morning for the trip with Scuba Steve at 4 AM for a 5 AM set off, it was a long enjoyable day as you will (should) have read. However I fancied a go for a zander or pike from the bank and so at about 7:40 AM a pretty tired Conrad set off south to a well known river fairly often frequented by me – the mighty Trent. The weather was abysmal compared to Saturday but that’s what shelters are for aren’t they?
This blog is called Conrad’s Barbel Fishing Blog but my tastes are evolving somewhat, I don’t see the point in fishing for barbel in unfavourable conditions when there are other (equally interesting?) species to fish for. I still love barbel fishing but I am really taken with the roving about on a little river style rather than the sitting it out all night on the Trent. I will still fish like that from time time, especially in the company of a good mate or a guest as it is a very enjoyable experience, however my ‘serious’ barbel fishing will be done on smaller rivers probably for smaller fish. After saying all that, the weather had been pretty mild earlier in the week and good numbers of barbel had been caught (albeit by better anglers) so I confess to putting a barbel rod in the van ‘just in case’.
On the way there I was on my way up a steep hill when I became aware of a sound that can only be described as cataclysmic! My bloody van exhaust had clearly failed in some way and I had a dreadful feeling that I knew exactly how. Two weeks previously I had a new exhaust back box and a second hand middle section fitted as the middle section on my stupid French van contains the catalytic converter, which as most operators of older vehicles will know are bloody expensive. I’ll not go on about it too much other than to say that the exhaust system on my Peugeot van is possibly the worst piece of engineering I have seen on a modern vehicle. After cursing the French a lot I experienced a small miracle. Firstly a very honest and helpful Kwik Fit fitter and secondly a a company in a tiny town like Newark on Trent had the middle section with the catalytic converter in stock and gave me a PX for my old one. The price was better than I had found after 2 days of previous searching on the internet as well. The guy from Kwik Fit fitted the part for me for a very reasonable fee and I was on my way to the river by 10:50 which was amazing for a Sunday. I honestly expected needing a tow home, instead I was £200 worse off but I could go fishing and more importantly go to the Labs that work had booked at £2k a day on Monday! I would have been very unpopular had that exhaust failed on the way there Monday morning.
So I eventually met Rich Walker who had thoughtfully erected his shelter and even more thoughtfully made room for me next to him. It was most cosy whereas outside the shelter it was blowing a hooligan! I had brought my little lightweight thing but I don’t think that it would have survived. I decided that I would paternoster a dead-bait on one rod and fish for barbel with the other. Rich had started fishing mashed bread for chub but had to give it up as the wind got worse, I think that he had caught one before I arrived.
I was using sardines as they were all I could get from Morrison’s on a Saturday evening. They are very soft aren’t they? They are also very cheap and very smelly, thank goodness Morrison’s do that sealed bag thing when you buy them. My mate Monty always seems to use sprats which presumably can only be bought from a proper fishmonger? Certainly didn’t see anything small and silvery on the Morrison’s fish section. I lashed the hook on with a piece of mono which seemed to work OK.
I did manage to catch the most scabby pike in the Trent, it’s lower jaw had been damaged at some time and judging by the limp attempt at escaping it was not a healthy fish. If the jaw damage was inflicted by an angler (as I suspect) then I hope that someone breaks their jaw and they suffer years of unpleasant surgery. The fish was around 9lb I would estimate but would have probably gone over 12 if it hadn’t been so malnourished, I hope I see it again one day nice and fat and looking a lot healthier.
Richard had 2 very nice barbel of well over 8lb both of which gave a good account of themselves, whereas my barbel rod only produced a chub. So not the day either of us would have hoped for I suspect but at least I got my exhaust done!
I have done over 800 miles this week, mainly for work and it still sounds purrrrrfect. I am looking forward to a week sat on my backside at the PC this coming week after hideous traffic jams. I do not normal travel for work, it is unusual but had to be done. How can it take 3.5 hours to 75 miles in car? Easy just go to the North West of England and enjoy the roadworks. People of that region, you have my deepest sympathies.
For some time I had been pestering that well known and jolly midlander Steve Williams to take me Pike and Zander fishing on the Severn or Warwickshire Avon and I had finally pinned him down to a date after repairing the sensor on his fish finder. He must have felt obligated somehow because he came good in the end. The reality is that there are many people who want to go on his little boat affectionately called YamYam. Yam Yam is a term for people from the Black Country for those who don’t know, you can read all about it on t’internet should you be so inclined.
One of the reasons that Steve was reluctant was probably because he (mistakenly) assumed that because of my rotund appearance that I would beat him to any pies or cakes that we may have on board which simply wouldn’t do. Like most of us approaching miggle age he likes to avoid confrontation these days and so the prospect of a pie and cake tug – o – war with a Yorkshireman with a low centre of gravity must have been daunting to say the least. In order to assuage his fears I brought plenty of supplies, had the weather been inclement we had enough for a ten man picnic ; just about right then.
Our Skipper Scuba Steve weighing up the supplies before boarding HMS YamYam for the day
The weather was perfect from a fishing comfort perspective, very little wind and dry unlike earlier in the week. We were going to launch from a site unfamiliar to Steve and would therefore be fishing a new area. His usual launch was full of flood water from the river Severn which backs up into the lower river. Not to worry though with all the contraptions on his boat we should be able to find a few fish.
The launch site has a webcam and at around 7:45 images of the launch of HMS YamYam into a nice looking river was captured by some saddos with nowt better to do. Two lads who only had the noble arts of fishing and scoffing in common set off in pursuit of toothy predators. I inserted my babel fish and turned it up to 11 in case the Yam Yam started talking to me. I needn’t have worried grunting and pointing worked a treat!
The launch captured by people not fishing
The river bed was 14.5 feet where we launched so we set the trolled live-bait accordingly only to find that we had to change things pretty rapidly as the river became much shallower as we headed upstream. As we approached a bridge me being the eager novice said ‘Pike like hanging around structures such as bridges don’t they Scuba?’ . He looked at me with a blank expression so I tried ‘Yam expecting a bostin tek, arrrr!’, to which he responded with a thumbs up and big grin. The float disappeared and I had my first Pike within 15 minutes of us starting. Not a big fish but I was delighted all the same, he showed me how to chin a pike which was nothing like I expected. When he said he was going to chin the fish I was horrified, if you chin someone in Yorkshire it is not a nice thing to do.
My first Pike from a boat, happy days
We continued upstream and then anchored next to an island and then the important work of preparing bacon butties started. Seriously though being out on the water on such a nice day with the smell of bacon wafting through the air as you watch the live-bait trying to tow a pike float around is pretty idyllic and I really was enjoying it. So much so that I can maybe see a small boat in my life in the future, especially when Scuba explained that other than the electronics the rest need not be that expensive. It is not something that I’ll be doing in the next few months but one day perhaps. I think that it’s the kind of thing a couple of mates could share, but they would have to be good mates.
I just wish that you could smell that bacon frying.
After we had fed our faces we decided to have a look downstream of the launch where we found much deeper water generally. In winter this is where you would expect the silver fish to shoal up and obviously the predators to follow. It was probably too bright for zander but we would definitely have a better chance in this deeper water. We saw some really good looking spots on the way downstream which we anchored up and visited on the way back upstream. Despite appearances we never got any action from this area and so headed right upstream again to finish the day off where we’d had a few earlier.
The best fish of the day, not a giant but welcome all the same.
We didn’t stay late, in fact we were off the water by about 4 pm – both of us had 2 pike each. We would have done better had we had a few more live-baits which really seem to out-fish dead baits in the sort of conditions we experienced on the day. It was a very enjoyable day, in fact I loved it every minute of it. Steve is an excellent host and a really nice bloke and I learned a lot. I sincerely hope that he will consider having me along again, perhaps in the summer when the predators are really active.
Great day – thanks Scuba!
Finally there was a guy fishing the pole for roach about 3 pegs above the launch who was just driving off as I was changing out of my scruffs. I had occasion to stop him before he left as his tailgate was up and was just about to jettison the lot. It turned out that he’d had about 12 lb of roach but would have done rather better had it not been for the 3 pike in his swim. One of which was pretty big! Ah well……………………
Firstly apologies for the very late blog! I have good reason though and to make up for it prepare thyself for a right old ramble.
After the trip grayling bashing with Richard on Sunday 30th I came home feeling pretty tired which I thought was pretty normal after the weekend’s activities, so I went to bed early………… and stayed there almost all week!
I was struck down by a bad virus, I have never felt so exhausted in my life and it did culminate in a visit from the paramedics (no – really) and then later hospital. It turned out that the pain in my arms was not my heart ( I did tell them that before they set off though) but it was neurological and was caused by the self same virus. I have to thank Tony for saying something which when repeated to the quacks actually got them thinking along the right lines, pain in arms = nerve in neck. One of the problems with being (even mildly) diabetic is that the medical profession are pre programmed to expect certain things like high cholesterol (no), heart disease (no), eyesight issues (need glasses I think – putting it off)and so on and so forth. So you complain of any pain in the arms (whilst feeling general exhausted and feeling shit) and it’s battle-stations, protestations from me did nothing. Paramedics have some fancy kit these days, just like in the lab at work but a bit easier to drive and 4 times more expensive. They also seem to get a perverse pleasure from shaving off little clumps of chest wig to put on that gel and 12 of those sticky probe pads. It turns out that the virus was attacking certain nerves in my body which in turn were causing the pain and other weird sensations in my arms. So I got another free extensive MOT and my heart is absolutely fine thankfully! It is reassuring and while I am making light of it now I was very poorly and bloody terrified at the time. I was also worrying about the shit-storm that would be brewing while I was off work (with good reason as it turns out).
I did venture out for a few hours on the afternoon of Friday 4th February, I was armed with lobworms and Ricky to help me carry stuff should I take a turn for the worse. I just needed to get out of the house! I felt a bit weak but thought that the fresh air might do me good. I went north for a change to a river that has produced a good number of specimen Perch over the years and I went with tackle suitable for Perch fishing. Boy did I get it wrong!
The river was carrying 6-8 feet of flood water.
The wind speed was 65 mph
Barbel were crashing out in front of me but I could not fish for them
I had nothing heavier than 4 oz and it would not stay put, the river wasn’t just high but it was rising and extremely fast flowing. I let the 4oz lead bounce around (no choice) and it ended up in a snag 6 feet from the bank every time. I could not find any slacker water (where I have been told I will find Perch) nor could I get up off my chair for if I did the wind lifted it into the air and toward the river. My bait bucket was lifted up and ended up mid river, whereupon it sank. Fortunately it had tipped up and deposited the sack of lobworms on the bank next to me, so I didn’t loose my valuable bait. We lasted 2 hrs and then stamped FI on it in big red letters! Man that was windy to the point of being scary, not to mention the fact that the field behind us was beginning to flood. I bet if I’d brought the flood rods and heavy leads I would have had a few barbel out. Where the hell did that flood water come from? It hardly rained in Barnsley! Ah well…………
(De) Boxing Day
Have you ever had a ‘spare’ room that was used for putting a few bits and pieces into when you moved into a new house but that actually evolved into an unruly and permanent ‘storage’ area. My spare room had twenty something boxes in it stacked about 4 high, the boxes were mainly filled with rubbish that I would never need and on Saturday I got up and felt really sick of it! I preceded to spend 9 hours straight tidying it up and trust me it was truly donkey work for a lab rat like me!
The bonus was that I ‘found’ that SPRO Red Arc reel that I had ‘mislaid’ (lost), which is perfect for Perch and chub fishing. It has a really exceptionally good front drag clutch as well by the way, however it is a tad garish for some tastes; I expect hoots of derision from certain quarters as I freely admit to liking this reel.
I see that these reels cost many Zloty now but used to be cheap when they were unknown.
Mucho Bling Many Zloty
Sunday Stripey?
So Saturday was all about tidying up and avoiding the wind and rain but Sunday was a better prospect so off I went to the Trent. I went to a spot known to throw up a few good Perch, this is made even more surprising when you consider that it is actually the furthest peg from the car park! See, I have a bit of the roving angler in me. I headed for the march downstream after a brief chat with a fellow ABF member who I had not met before, a splendid fellow he is too! I had enough kit to be comfortable but I could move about should it be necessary. I started with a small maggot feeder with a lobworm on the hook and later progressed to a lobworm on a 3 SSG link leger. The river was rising but had no where near the amount of water in that all the Northern rivers had, I found the slack water without any difficulties at all. I also had a barbel rod out in the main flow ‘just in case”. As it turned out I should have left it in it’s case!
I fished the swim for about 4 hours and then fished upstream back toward the car for an hour before and an hour after dark. The barbel were crashing out every 5 minutes and one of them was an interesting size too. However all I ended up with was a 2 lb chub on lob worm, not a sniff from the barbel. The fish were almost certainly feeding on something but what it was I don’t know. Mind you a feeding Trent barbel that refuses a pellet is a pretty rare creature.
Come back Monty (Pulleeeeezzze!)
Monty Dalrymple has put the cap on the ink well, I for one shall miss him. However young Master Dalrymple has lost none of his mischief, oh no not a bit of it. He has merely found another medium from which to propagate it, namely the Short Message Service beloved of teenagers everywhere and available to all mobile phone users, sadly including me! He has discovered virtual fishing and that the best time to get a bite is mid morning after I have been in a meeting with a project manager and have been suitably wound up and then a bit later on in the afternoon when young Monty thinks that I’m either busy or ignoring him. It’s not that I am getting special treatment, he will be doing something similar to 10 other hapless innocents simultaneously, he is that prolific!
Monty I’m on to you!
Finally
There is a possibility that my body will be found in a Midlands river on Saturday when I go to see a man with a boat and catch a bigger pike than him. This is an unlikely scenario but I am looking forward to it all the same. Off out on Saturday night with the missus so I will probably get a few hours somewhere on Sunday; maybe the Trent, maybe more local but I will almost certainly be trying to earn my stripes again.
Final Final
Incidentally the Association of Barbel Fishers on-line magazine is now available on general release to everyone. We never password protected the page so the more inquisitive visitors to the site will have found it already.
I’ve sent you here rather than directly to the magazine page itself because when subsequent magazines are published they will appear here in a list. Ultimately the current issue will be available to members, whereas only the previous issues will be available to the general public. I hope that you enjoy it and better yet that you come and join the ABF.
So I have a new theme, there were some teething problems as usual but I think it works OK, please try and break it. I think that it is quite pleasing on the eye and a bit cleaner looking. New Year – New Theme!
Images are a bit different too, here is a test image:
Nice Crucian
I’m hoping to go Perch fishing at the weekend if I feel a little better.
On Sunday Rich Walker and I went grayling fishing on one of my local rivers. The fishing is very good at this time of year provided the river isn’t full of flood water, despite the cold snap we have been having lately. In fact the water temperature seems to have very little effect on the obliging grayling but flood water definitely upsets them.
We had an early start because I wanted to get on one of the upper reaches of the section before too many dog walkers, footballers and other anglers showed up. However I needed a coffee before we started and we had a trip to a local McDonald’s first and had some coffee which is made with ’100% Arabica coffee beans specially selected from sustainable farms certified by the Rainforest Alliance’. Still tastes shit compared to the freshly ground stuff that I buy from Pollard’s in Sheffield, whether it is specially selected or not!
It was fully light by the time we got to the river. I had considered wearing waders and getting in the water but decided against it just in case I got too cold and ruined my day. I had brought the trotting tackle rather than a fly rod on this occasion as last time Richard came up North to fish the river he had his first go at fly fishing and it was a good deal warmer. However this time the coarse season is still with us so trotting red maggot it was to be.
I love the river on an early morning, there was a chill in the air but it was a glorious crisp morning. The river was actually very low which limited our choice of swims somewhat, you can cover far more water with a fly rod on the upper reaches of any river in my opinion. On the other hand when you’re trotting you can loose feed. I think next time I go I may try loose feeding maggots in the rapid shallower glides and fish the fly to see what happens, the act of an absolute heathen but interesting all the same.
The river was low limiting where we could fish. Can you see the float? Click to enlarge
We started in a large pool which actually gets a fair bit of angling pressure as it has a nice comfortable ‘beach’ and easy access. I noticed a few cans and signs of a fire which were no doubt from last weekend. I had always assumed that the luncheon meat tins that I had occasionally seen around this area were from people fishing for barbel which are in residence even this high up the river but I was informed by a dog walker that there are a few double figure carp in the pool. That explains that then but why the hell they want to light fires and drink cheap lager and leave shit everywhere is beyond me, I’ve never bothered drinking beer when I’m fishing, it just seems wrong somehow. I love having a pint or two after I’ve been fishing but swigging lager when I’m fishing is just not for me. I don’t mind if others want to do it as long as they take things home with them. I didn’t expect it at this time of year so I hadn’t brought a bin liner with me but I’m going to go down tomorrow and shift it. The area is pretty clean considering it’s location which makes the rubbish all the more incongruous.
Anyway back to the fishing, I had my standard 4BB fluted balsa on cane river Derwent grayling float on which is just too heavy when the river is this low although I did get a fish within a minute, as usual right at the head of the pool. The fish always seem to shoal up lower downstream once some loose offerings go in and then gradually come back up to the source of the offerings over time. If you feed too much the fish end up right up close and are more difficult to catch despite taking the maggots more freely. It is just a matter of presentation in these small pools, some of which are trots of 10 feet or even less. Richard found the method that they wanted and fished the pool very well with a very short wire stemmed stick float, absolutely perfect in the conditions. I changed to a 3BB crow quill topper later and found it much better although I kept finding bloody snags (trees) and lost a good number of hooklengths. Of late I had been using hooks to nylon because I am lazy and fish like this infrequently but they are never quite right and so I tied my own on the bank. I have not tied size 20 hooks for a good 15 years and it showed, mind you I lost that many hooklengths on the same snag that I became proficient again after the first few hours.
I think we had a good couple of hours in that area - Rich had 6 fish and I had 3, the pool downstream that I tried for half an hour was unproductive yet it is a killer swim on the fly. We moved down to the lower part of the stretch and tried the slower water, then tried the faster water which is a bit turbulent and full of unpredictable eddies and then finally down to the weir pool at the bottom of the stretch. After a while I thought I’d make life easier for Rich and fish a static bait. I had never tried maggot feeder at this venue for grayling but I knew that the bigger fish are usually caught that way so I thought what the hell? It had an instant effect, I had half a dozen fish of a slightly better stamp almost immediately, bloody fast takes as well, but few were missed. The secondary effect of this trickle of maggots going in from the bottom rather than loose fed from the top was also very beneficial for Rich who also started catching regularly. My mate Hobby ‘The Ninja’ advocates the use of a bait dropper with maggots for grayling on the bigger rivers but on this little river the steady trickle of bait from a small maggot feeder was probably more appropriate.
We had a very good number of better quality fish from this pool and we stayed put for 3 hours. We ended up with 30 plus fish although grayling fishing by it’s nature is relaxing and uncompetitive so we weren’t counting. Rich fished the stick and pin like a pro – I was impressed. I was pleasantly surprised at how effective a little 15g maggot feeder was. I also had 3 trout toward the end of the day, the takes were very violent – angry brown trout! The trout looked considerably plumper than they did at this time last year which surprises me a little.
Thanks heaven for grayling and thank heaven for having such excellent fishing right on my doorstep. Also thank heaven for my mate Richard who always laughs with me rather than at me which must be bloody difficult at times!
I am a sucker for peer pressure and there is no peer that applies greater pressure than my mate Monty. He reckons that stillwater Perch aren’t ‘proper’ and I didn’t take much persuading, besides I like rivers. So on Sunday off I went in pursuit of a good sized small river Perch.
I went to a local river, down a muddy river bank and I went early – in fact my first cast was just before first light. The cast was sublime (unusually), it went right in-between two overhanging willows with some slack water. I figured that was a good time to be by the river for the predatory Perch; my intention was to stay until just before dark.
The swan shot link leger is really easily to floppy hat into a perfect position even with a big fat lobworm acting as a pendulum. I thought ‘Oh yes that’s the spot.’ I had a bit of local info as well so I was feeling supremely confident for the first hour……………….then less so.
Now like a fool I had neglected to renew my prescription and hadn’t taken my tablets for 24 hours and after about 3 hours I was feeling decidedly odd. This is the first time that I had gone a day without them and it will be the last.
I hadn’t had any takes despite moving to a few other swims. I also had 40 minutes or so trotting a worm down a really nice stretch, I kept looking downstream and had noticed the gentle upstream wind and I just had to have a trot down. It was very enjoyable even though I didn’t have so much as a touch. I did find a sunken tree (you’d think something might be skulking down there) which eventually claimed one of my favourite George Lockhart handmade floats. The bailiff tells me that he will drag it out this week and that he will pocket my nice float for himself! I actually think that he will give it back to me because he is a nice bloke.
So time went on and I was feeling very rough indeed and absolutely exhausted and was starting to nod off, wait what was that – did the rod top move. Indeed it did very rapidly and I pounced on the rod and was rewarded with a very satisfying thump, thump, thump wrrrrrrrrrr. Ayup this is a bloody barbel! It was only a 5lb fish but I was fishing with 4lb line and it was a very enjoyable experience to be honest, especially as it headed for the tree that steals floats. It rather easier to stop them with my standard barbel set-up than with this stuff – but it will stop them, it just requires a different technique.
Afterwards I couldn’t keep my eyes open and thought that falling asleep on a muddy river bank was not advisable and so called it a day. I was home for 2:30pm, was in bed 8pm and at the chemist’s first thing next morning.
So what did I learn?
It was very very muddy and it is not true, weebles do in fact fall down.
Perch are harder to catch than barbel
I will have to catch a big river Perch before the end of the season, I have got it in my head now and that’s that!
I am a really crap angler ………..still (practice makes no difference)
Even when I don’t blank on two consecutive days I’m still not happy
I should not forget my tablets ever again; either they are doing something useful or I’m addicted to some powerful drugs that have a profound physical effect on me.
So another cold snap is heading our way, if I go this weekend it is likely to be for grayling I think.
After spending over 20 years as a musician in a previous life my default position is that of a night person, however when my alarm went off at 5 am I somehow managed to drag myself out of bed. To say that I was grumpy is something of an understatement!
Today I was going to attempt to catch a big perch on a trout reservoir in Lincolnshire called Toft Newton. I was armed with 100 lobworms and that was that, my whole gambit. The venue opens up for coarse fishing only 3 weekends in January each year; the first weekend was cancelled due to ice, a few perch had come out on the second weekend on jigs and, therefore, I thought that I’d be in with a chance this weekend.
I wanted to be one of the first there so that I could get in a swim that would allow me to cast up to the water tower and also behind the tower into a trench that carries the 48 inch inlet pipe that delivers water to the reservoir from the river Witham, some 12 miles away. This is where the coarse fish came from and they have grown pretty big since the last time that the reservoir was drained in the mid 1980s. The reservoir is a 40 acre concrete bowl and the trench and water tower are the only features. I was just praying that it wouldn’t be windy because it is an inhospitable place when it’s windy; I know because I have been fly fishing there several times.
The trench runs from the middle of the tower in a straight line to the bouy - it then veers off at 315° into the middle of the reservoir
I arrived at about 7:05 and I was there before anyone else including Jason the fishery manager, so I knew that I would get in my planned swim. I closed my eyes and waited – all of 5 minutes! I was in luck it was flat calm and overcast, crap for the fly angler fishing dries when it’s calm but to remove temptation I hadn’t brought a fly rod so I was happy. I mixed some chopped worm peat and leem and balled 5 balls in next to the water tower. My rig was a small blockend feeder on a paternoster with a poly ball just to lift the worm off the bottom which is covered in weed. I was using a relatively new 1.25 lb TC torrix made by the talented Bob Gill coupled with some 5 lb mono mainline with a 4 lb hooklength. Steve Frost, Perch fisher extraordinaire had recommended Kamasan B983 hooks for lobworm fishing and he was bang on there, cheers Steve. I had to crush the barbs off as per fishery rules but they are a nice sharp wide gape hook perfect for the job.
The 'water tower' - a gentle underhand lob was all that was required to drop the chopped worm onto the corner - depth 12 feet - floppy hat underarm cast - deadly!
I left the line fairly slack so that the perch wouldn’t feel any resistance and I didn’t have to wait long before the line tightened up and I was into a powerful fish, if this was a perch it was huge! Of course it turned out to be one of the rare brown trout that were last stocked in toft Newton several years ago. This was a female fish, I could tell from the number of eggs that were deposited in the landing net. The fish weighed around 2.5 lb and had swallowed the hook. I clearly would not be able to fish a slack line any longer. Fortunately the fish was released unharmed and sped off straight back toward the water tower.
The first brown trout. click on the picture and zoom in - it was full of bloodworm, in fact most of the brown trout were caked in them.
I caught 3 fish in fairly quick succession and by now I had been joined by 4 or 5 fishing on the fly, 4 boats fishing jigs over the pipe and maybe half a dozen coarse anglers most of whom had put a pike rod out. The guy next to me to the right of the water tower was the only one to have a run on a lamprey section.
Two lads 'getting jiggy with it' for Perch - to no avail! They are fishing over the pipe
The wind got up around 1pm and many didn’t seem equipped to deal with it judging by the blue lipped people that were trudging past me on route to the car park. I was fine apart from a headache that had developed from having an overly tight beanie hat on for too long, I’ll have to go back to my daft looking one that looks as though I have a can of lager under it. Look back a few months, you’ll soon spot it. Or perhaps it was the brightness of the water? Or even getting up at barsteward o’ clock? Whatever it was annoying!
Jason had made it clear that it was a coarse fishing weekend and that any method was permitted but he hoped that people would enter into the spirit of things. I nearly peed myself when I found out that there were 2 lads fishing pellet waggler which (unsurprisingly) proved most effective, they had about 60 trout between them! You’ve got to admire the bare faced cheek of them, even if they didn’t enter the spirit of things. They caught a shed load more than anyone else though!
I ended up with 7 brownies to 3 lb and 3 rainbows to to 4 lb. The fish were a lot of fun on the torrix and the day made a pleasant change. There wasn’t a single coarse fish caught and the last 3 hours were shite! I had one fish on that got off. I’ll have another go next year though that’s for sure. I’ll also be back in the coarse close season with a fly rod, it’s a well run and very friendly fishery and is highly recommended.
A plump vivid coloured 3lb brownie - notice the 'fish friendly' unhooking mat - I believe in using them for all species not just barbel
Sunday will be spent on a little river trying to catch a perch;)
It’s the eve of something a bit different for me this weekend, I’m off on a solo attempt to catch a 3 lb perch. This has been precipitated by the realisation that I no longer enjoy static fishing for barbel in the winter on a flooded river. The endless removal of salad from your line, the hours of waiting for barbel to feed for a short spell only to stop and the cycle repeats itself again.Don’t get me wrong, the thrill of hooking and landing any barbel on a river is as strong as ever, it’s just the mind numbing boredom of a winter flood, full of promise but this last one never really delivered.
Ricky and I fished from 10 am until 7pm for 4 barbel; 3 for me and one for Ricky, all from the same swim. All the fish were over 7 lb, the best 8 lb 6 oz and looked healthy and recovered quickly. The thing is that all the fish came between 2:30 and 3:30 and was it not for the footie on sky sports on my iPhone we would have been snoring.
One other thing, good folk of Nottinghamshire, ‘For fek’s sake dispose of your sanitary items in a place other than the river Trent!’ I don’t enjoy getting them off my line. Not many condoms this time of year, presumably it’s too cold for a knee trembler near the river bank.
So from now on unless I’m hearing reports of barbel really having a munch I shall be fishing in the slacker water with a lobworm for perch. When the river is right I shall re-learn how to use a stick float or fish a feeder with mashed bread and bread flake for chub. Bollocks to winter barbelling it’s cold and boring!
This mild weather coupled with some warm rain had all us barbel anglers quivering with anticipation. After such a prolonged cold spell the water temperature increase and the food brought down by the warm floodwater was sure to have a profound effect on the barbel’s appetite, wasn’t it? Well in my experience – yes it had an effect – but it turned out to be a long way short of profound.
As soon as I became aware of the improved weather I arranged to have Thursday and Friday afternoon off work to make the most of our good fortune. I really was looking forward to a spot of barbel fishing after such a long enforced absence. I had chosen a venue on the Trent where Richard Walker and I had caught some good fish and so at mid day off I went to the Trent. Actually it took me an hour to get out of the bloody car park at work due to some pillock in marketing who was predictably ‘out to lunch’ and not answering his mobile. Anyway I got to the river at about 2:30 and thought that it looked pretty good. It was up about 3-4 feet and was a nice colour.
However I soon discovered that this particular venue does not lend itself to being fished when there is that amount of flood water on. I ended up loosing 4 – 8 oz leads in 4 casts! The 8oz leads were holding the bottom at about 1 rod length out, however they were getting wiped out by an assortment of salad stuff and immediately swinging into the edge at high velocity where there were unseen trees, prams, shopping trolleys and other detritus. I have a new rule if more than 6oz is required then pack up and call it a day. Fishing with 8oz leads or feeders is simply not for me any more, even though I have the rods and reels to handle it.
I called Richard and discussed plan B which involved me moving to a different venue lower downstream where I knew that there was some slower deep water. It seemed to take an eternity to get across Nottingham but eventually we arrived at our destination and headed for some calmer water. At the top of the stretch the flow was ferocious and there appeared to be 5-6 feet of extra water on.
There were 2 other lads on the stretch who had both caught but one of them had moved to find the fish. Richard and I should have probably done the same but it started to rain heavily and I wasn’t inclined to get out from under the shelter. Rich pulled out of a fish, this was to be a fairly common occurrence for some anglers over the next few days. This seems to happen from time to time in the winter, I don’t know exactly why but I have stopped worrying about it. On the other hand when it is the only take between the 2 of you……..
The secret angler upstream (I can’t mention who he was because he is famous and gets a bit upset) had managed to get a good sized fish entwined in a tree that was sticking out into the water, this was no reflection on his angling ability just the very difficult conditions and a very awkward fish. He risked life and limb by crawling out over the water and freeing the fish with his landing net. I was holding his rod an low and behold the other rod went off like a steam train. This fish also managed to find some near bank rushes which of course were not visible the flood water. It came out and was landed successfully, he ended up with 5 barbel and a chub. This bearing in mind was only 3 swims upstream from us – secret angler (who is a mild mannered gent) decided that both Rich and I were clearly shit anglers, no argument from me! Rich can defend himself if he wants……..
Actually I never got to go on Friday afternoon due to work pressures but a rather excellent chap from North Yorkshire did and he found that the fish were in tight shoals and pretty reluctant to move. They did switch on for short spells however so I resolved to go on Saturday.
I must tell you that had it not been for the excellent company I would have been bored out of my mind, I was beginning to experience the beginnings of a barbel fishing crisis. I would go again on Saturday and see how I felt after that. I was getting bloody sick of blanking though.
Conrad
PS I was able to hold bottom with a 4oz Nisa feeder at venue number 2, much more civilised.
Apologies for the lateness of this blog but I have been a very busy boy and there have been a few Kerfuffles along the way.
Kerfuffle #1 – 24th December 2010
I had to go to a place called Up Holland in Lancashire on Christmas Eve - my last day at work before the festive holidays. This was to test an antenna that I’d designed and of course it had to be done on that day because unsurprisingly the lab was available. The testing was to be done in a special ‘Faraday cage’ chamber and as you might expect I was as popular as a fart in a tent with the engineer over there. It was an early start as and I risked going over Woodhead which was fine as it turned out, no snow or ice to worry about. I heard that there was some snow to the west but I never saw much; the route was A628, M67, M60, M62, M6 and a bit of the M58, the roads were deserted, snow free and I was making great time. Imagine my surprise when I came off junction 1 of the M58 at 50 mph only to be confronted with about 3 inch of snow on the bloody slip road! There was nothing to do but take my foot off the accelerator and pray that I’d get round the bad left hand bend at the bottom. I survived without incident (apart from the one in my undies) and arrived in one piece. I made friends with the lab engineer by discovering that we had a few mutual acquaintances and that we thought that bosses were barstewards for making us do this work on such a day. The antenna worked fine and I got finished for 12:30 and went shopping before stopping off for pint or two in the pub with Ricky on ‘the way home.’
Wednesday 29th December – Foggy Chubbing
I persuaded Rich Walker to come North for a day trotting on a local stream. I showed him a section where I have had chub nudging 6lb and plenty of 5s. The weather was getting slightly warmer and the river looked OK to me; up a bit and coloured but not overly so. What was interesting to me was the monochrome world that we were looking at in the heavy fog. Everything looked drab, even the kingfisher that I saw at one point but at least it was too warm to have the line sticking to the rings like it had been in previous weeks.
I was full of optimism for a change!
We trotted maggots down a few good looking swims for a good few hours but to no avail, neither of us had a touch – but I have definitely rediscovered my love of trotting with a pin. We should have gone on the upper Don then we would have had a load of grayling (probably) :). Ah well. We even tried a maggot feeder in a banker swim as the sun went down, again without success. Maybe we would have been better off with mashed bread and flake, who knows. One thing that I do know is that we had a bloody good walk, probably around 2 miles with tackle which is long way for the dodgy kneed one.
I am quite sure that it did me no harm.
Trotting in monochrome fog - looks nowt like this!
Thursday 30th December
This was to be the last trip of 2010 and again I was hopeful. I arrived at the Trent around 2pm and fished in my usual swim which to be fair is not that great at this time of the year but I was feeling lazy and wanted some comfort after yesterday. I knew that I would stay until after dark for a few hours and so settled in. I fished a paste wrapped boilie on one rod and a humble pellet on the other with a small groundbait feeder. One of the other lads from the club turned up who I had met once previously at an AGM but had never fished with. Good angler and a right old laugh! Despite the great company, he became insufferable once he managed to eke out a splasher barbel at around 8 pm.
We decided to move downstream as we thought that the fish may have dropped down due to the elevated river levels. We moved about a mile and started again. We had a chat with a couple of others who had been there some time and only one of the three had caught any barbel. Interestingly the water temperature was 40°F which I have often found to be warm enough to produce fish. We called it a day at midnight (like the rest of the world) and I have to say that I really enjoyed myself, maybe I am perhaps more sociable than I think?
Kerfuffle #2 – Its a New Year and a New problem
I pay for my web space monthly via a paypal subscription which has worked perfectly for me for a few years. I recently changed banks from Halifax to the Co-operative bank due to the Halifax’s change in overdraft charges – £1 per day for authorised overdrafts. Besides they had previously treated the wife abominably when she was a student so I voted with my feet. Bloody hell I had a right time with the pay pal subscription and changing my registered bank account. First I heard of it was when a mate told me that this very blog URL said account suspended. No warning, no ‘Dear Mr Farlow there appears to be a problem with your subscription please call xxxxx to resolve this issue.’ No, nothing reasonable like that, just account suspended! Anyway I think that everything is back to normal now, fortunately I keep back ups of the blog and back up daily so I wouldn’t have lost anything but it took 4-5 hours of my time to resolve – not impressed.
I am now looking forward to going fishing this week. The IT migration onto a new system at work went well and I worked for a few hours over the weekend so I should be able to get a day off if the forecast warm weather actually comes. Fed up of this bloody cold weather, are you?
After last weeks snow melt I think it fair to say that Hobby and I were a bit disappointed with last weekend’s grayling fishing trip to he Derbyshire Derwent, so we decided to do it again. As usual I went through Rotherham and passed over the Don which looked perfect this time, unlike last week when it was a raging torrent. It was much colder on Saturday, -4 when I set off which was 12 degrees colder. What I don’t understand is why it felt colder than I had experienced so far this winter, even though there had been days when it was -12. Perhaps it has something to do with the water content in the air? The rest of the country was buried under a pile of snow but South Yorkshire and Derbyshire got away with a light dusting on Friday and Saturday, not only that but the winds were very light indeed – so it was looking good.
We set off a little earlier and went for the obligatory breakfast before we started in a little cafe on a junction near to Cromford on the A6, a place very popular with cyclists. In fact I was sat next to a photo of an Italian word champion cyclist who had visited previously, it must be on an established competitive cycling route. One thing is for sure it is a nice little place than does banging breakfasts at a reasonable price and it is part of our ritual. It started to snow just before we left which was a bad sign, yet it was definitely getting warmer, although not warm enough to melt the block of ice that was in the dog bowl outside the front door, unless it was an ice pop for dogs!
We were the only two anglers on the stretch which I was happy about because I intended having a bit of a roam about this time. As we made our way up the bank we were greeted by loads of bird life – Mistle thrushes, Fieldfares, various finches and best of all I got close to a Jay, within about 8 feet which is very rare as they are a pretty shy bird. By the time Hobby got arrived it had flown across to the far bank, so he heard it but never saw it. I also caught a few glimpses of some Tree Creepers but never close enough to identify which species. It is a really nice place to fish and watch the wildlife, I wish that I could afford the £500 needed to join the club for the first season, they have some belting waters for someone like me who enjoys both coarse and game fishing.
It had warmed up to about -2 by the time I was fishing and initially there was no problem with ice on the rod rings, however I treated them to a dose of Dr Oetker’s glycerine fresh from Morrison’s supermarket. I elected to use a 4BB, fairly short stemmed, fluted balsa and cane float hand made by George Lockhart. If you enjoy trotting on rivers you should treat yourself to a set of George’s floats which are truly superb. Have a look on George’s website here George’s Traditional Handmade Floats . I was soon into a couple of grayling and then my first choice swim which is normally prolific died off. I tried everything, changing the shotting pattern, varying the depth and the speed at which I let the float go through the swim but to no avail. Hobby had a really nice grayling early on, well over a pound and his PB from the venue.
I decided to move and went back towards the car, I found a nice swim in between some trees; not a long trot but there was a deep eddy on the near bank where I thought there might be a few fish and so there were. I had 2 nice brownies from here and lost a clonker, well over 2lb as well as 6 grayling before the bites dried up again. The best of the brownies that I landed was only about a pound but it was a skinny thing and should have weighed a good deal more. I decided to call her Victoria ‘cos she was a skinny trout. This swim had a resident Dabchick which was better behaved than the previous weekend when it had been attacking our floats as we trotted them, this weekend he kept a discrete distance and caught a few fish as well.
A skinny trout called Victoria
By the time I moved to the third swim the temperature had dropped again and I was having big problems with the rod rings freezing. This was messing up my presentation and the fish seemed to want the bait fished deep at just less than the speed of the current. I was finding it hard to manage this so I ended up doing something fairly unorthodox. I fed quite heavily for 10 minutes and brought the fish practically parallel with me and slightly off the bottom. I cast upstream at about 45 degrees and that way I was able to get perhaps 10 yards where the float was just at the right pace by keeping the line tight and following the float with the rod top. Not ideal but in the circumstances what was a bloke to do? I also had a constant companion in this swim in the shape of a Robin who I fed with a few maggots from time to time. I managed to get a photo on my phone, not great but it serves as a reminder for me.
My constant companion for the day - 2 fatties together!
Hobby actually had a one land on his rod while he was trotting, I saw this when I was having a fag break hoping to learn something. What I learned was that Hobby was having a devil of a time with the freezing rod rings as well.
After my fag break I went back to my swim and had a clonking grayling first trot down. I tried to get a photo of it but it was in wriggly bar of soap mode so I gave up in the end. Afterwards disaster struck! I was fishing between two trees and got snagged on a branch, when I pulled out the float and end tackle ended up in a tree upstream of me and about 12 feet in the air. I tried to retrieve it but the line snapped. This was not any ordinary float and so I set about retrieving in with my landing net handle. As I walked across some brambles to get into a better position one of the brambles branches clipped my little Aldi bag which once again ended up in the bloody drink! Good grief it really is like a ball! Convenient, small and cheap but not without it’s drawbacks. I retrieved the bag which had kept it’s contents dry and propped it against a bankside tree where it could not roll anywhere!
Safely against the tree trunk with my mate Robin keeping guard.
I eventually retrieved the float and set up and had a few more before moving to a couple more swims the last of which proved to be very prolific. I got a photo of a ‘typical’ stamp grayling for the day but I had to hold it as it would have battered itself to death otherwise. Notice how dark the fish was, some of these fish were almost black!
A typical Derwent Grayling - notice how black it is.
I ended up with 18 grayling, 2 brownies, a bullhead and a little dace and was most happy with my day by the river. Hobby ended up with 13 grayling and 6 brownies and had the better fish without a doubt. We called off at the pub and had a few pints of Hobgoblin before heading off home happy.
A few toons to kick off the week
As I drove into work this morning I rather unusually had a bit of music on, some soul compilation that I had put on my iPod. All belters I’m sure that you (Monty?) agree.
And this one with the most marvellous bassoon part in popular music. Like the baritone sax as well. Parrrrp!
Finally I’m sure Monty will like this one:
By the way as I drove past the Don today on my way to work it was actually frozen right across on the bit near Meadowhall, I never thought I’d see that.
On Friday morning on my way into work I went over the river Don and was surprised to see that there was hardly any extra water in and that the river was not coloured. I had just assumed that the thaw had been fairly slow and that the river had coped with it. On my way to Hobby’s on Saturday morning the same river was raging, in full flood and a nasty chocolate colour. We timed it just wrong!
As expected there was some snow melt in the river Derwent, one of Derbyshire’s finest spate rivers; in fact it was dark chocolate and ramming through! Hobby and I arrived at the cafe at around 10 am and had a jolly nice breakfast before we started. I had brought full winter garb with me including the Esox beanie hat that’s taller than my head which I don mainly for comedy effect. As you can see from the later photos it’s a real winner. Also it was a balmy 8 degrees C so I ended up roasting hot!
So how do you approach a grayling river when it’s like this?
Perfect for Grayling - not!
The correct answer is that you approach it several days later when the colour has dropped out. You can see the pace which was actually slightly less when we first started, I think that it came up a bit while we were there.
I fished with a 6BB fluted cork on cane float which was not big enough. I struggled on with it for 1.5 hours whereas I should have probably changed to a big 5g wire stemmed float like the ones I usually use on the deeper swims on the Trent. However we were only fishing in 4-5 feet of water I thought that it was unsuitable. Any attempts at stret pegging or holding the float back were futile because of the huge amounts of debris coming down. Maybe with a really big float held back in the edge and with some maggots put down with a bait dropper ( as suggested by Hobby) a few fish could have been persuaded to feed but hindsight is a wonderful thing.
After about an hour I had a walk upstream to see how Hobby was faring and saw to my dismay a dead barbel on the bank. It was unmolested and according to the signing in book at the fishery it had been there since the previous day. It had a red eye and I suspect that it died of natural causes in the flood water. Still it’s a shame to see such a thing – I didn’t take a photo, no point upsetting folk.
Hobby is rather more adept at this trotting lark than me and he had found some smoother water but was still bite-less. I went for a walk about and decided that my first choice of swim was probably best. I lit up a cigarette and dropped my tackle right in the edge to think about what to do next. After a few minutes the tip of the rod started bouncing around and I was rewarded with a 2oz grayling – so I blanked really cos I couldn’t catch one on purpose!
The 3rd of our party arrived took one look at the river and knew that we were wasting our time. Steve (eelfisher) Richardson is a welcome addition to any trip when Hobby is there because they are like a double act. Hobby had brought his Kelly kettle and treated us to some pyrotechnics with his special paint thinner accelarant! Steve’s eyebrows will probably grow back eventually! I learned something that day – Bovril with pepper in it is nice and surprisingly when you dip sausage rolls in said beverage they taste good! These old timers certainly know a thing or two about food eh?
A Happy Trio basking in the glow of a warm Bovril
Anyhow after another 30 minutes or so we had enough and a trip to a local hostelry was mooted. I was very keen on this idea as I was in good company and really fancied a pint. I had enjoyed being outside for 3 or 4 hours so didn’t regret going and learned that no matter how much enthusiasm you have grayling will not feed in a spate river stuffed full with snow melt.
There were two more events of note:
After extolling the virtues of the cheap compact and wonderful Aldi bits bag I have found a drawback. The bag is essentially a cube shape with slightly soft edges that can be persuaded to deform easily, thus making the bag not unlike a ball. Understandably a ball will roll quite easily as I discovered when I set a chain of events going which may have raised a smile had anyone been there to see it.
I packed up my stuff and set off back to the car when I discovered that I still had a bait apron full of maggots around my waist
I dropped my little bits bag to the floor and the bottom edge deformed and made it like a ball with a flat top
There was a slight incline where I dropped it and the bits bag started to roll, the impact of the flat part hitting the floor caused it to deform and made it ball like and therefore it rolled further, rapidly gaining momentum and rolling and rolling…………
I had to chase the bloody thing as it rolled toward the rather pacey river. It got to the river before I did and thankfully did not sink immediately, it was however to far to reach and my landing net was right up the bank. A split second decision was reached, I knew that the bit in front of me was only 18 inches (turned out to be 2 feet) deep and I had wellies on and was of to the pub in a bit so……….. I plunged one foot in reached in and grabbed the bag. I went 6 inches over my wellies but was so fast that the trapped air kept the water out and I was bone dry. The bag was also fine were it not for the bit of water that had gone into the bottom compartment which is the bit that kept it afloat. There were two reels in it but maybe I shouldn’t have done that with no one else about. I can move fast for a fat lad though, fortunately it wasn’t downstream on this occasion.
The second event of note is that we spotted Hobby with creases in his trousers. Now this might seem frivolous and even immature and school-boyish but when you have watched the Ninja hover his way across a muddy field and not have the merest speck of dirt on him it is indeed a momentous occasion. Fortunately I had my camera phone at hand to capture the event and I have created a little montage, clumsy but you get the idea.
Sorry it's blurred but my hands were shaking - Look at the Steve's shocked face!
So they were creased and we saw it with our own eyes, we feel ‘normalised’ somehow. We retired to the pub where we made plans to go on an altogether more suitable day and I had a couple of pints of this.
Right then miracle of all miracles, I am actually going fishing right now. Notice the new banner at the top right of this page, you can click on it and it will take you to a special place……………
