Sorry Looking River

Sometimes when you turn up at a venue everything looks right for a great day, other times things look a bit iffy. Today's venue looked very sorry for it's self indeed, I don't know why and I can't describe why.

I started off with the usual jerk bait, which were not easy to control in the fast current, but persisted. On the other rod I'd put on a large gold spoon, which I've  had quite a bit of success with in the past on faster rivers. The only rod bending action I had with them was the occasional water logged branch. In fact it was more than occasional at times with every third or fourth cast snagging one, some of them quite large and a bit troublesome in the fast current.

Part way along the stretch I had a natter with an angler feeder fishing who'd been there a couple of hours with out a bite. He agreed with me that the river didn't look good after the floods. and also noted the lack of signs, footprints, that any other anglers had been down. We wished each other look and I carried on to the next swim. Alternating between jerk baits, crankbaits, and spoons depending on the flow just continued to pick up water logged branches or nothing. On the way back to the car for a spot of lunch I talked to the other angler a again, who still hadn't had a bite, not even a minnow that can plague this stretch at time. Where do they go in winter?

Like me he had considered going further down stream, but preferred this stretch, and like me was beginning to regret not sticking with the first and probably more sensible plan. After lunch I continued along in the other direction. This area contains a lot more eddies, prime pike holding spots according to all the books and articles. Clearly the pike weren't hungry today as the ignored my lures. I did, however see the unmistakeable signs that an angler had been in one of the swims, footprints, bankstick holes, etc. So we weren't the only fools.

As the afternoon wore on I began contemplating heading for home before the traffic built up. The multiplier also seemed to have similar ideas as it was beginning to make an irritating squeaking noise. Not wanting to cause any damage to the reel I gave up and headed home, but not before heading over to see the other angler. He to was packing up, bite-less. We both hoped the rivers would perk up before the end of the season as we haven't really had much of a chance on them this year.

Work Party Quickie

After today's work party I had a quick chuck around with a lure before heading home. After no sign of action in the first couple of swims farce ensued in the third. A long chuck saw me loose track of the lure as the sun popped back out from behind a cloud.Instead of doing the sensible thing and checking it's flight I let it go on only to here the distinct sound of a lure crashing in to a branch. The noise spooked a seagull which flow straight into the falling braid and dragged it into the banks-side trees. I eventually managed to untangle it from the trees a proceeded to pull the lure free. After checking the braid and the state of the hooks etc. I decided to have one last chuck which produced this tubby little beast.

Poor Day All-round

This week's Jack's Pike seems kinda relevant as I blank again.

I went to a venue I hadn't fished for years. Weir pools, locks, famous pike hot spot.  What could go wrong!

 

Arriving just after first light, to a deserted car park. I spent the first three hours throwing lures about. At the weir, in the eddies, around the locks, along the cut, nothing not even a follow. There weren't even any fish topping. I could blame the devastating impact of the Christmas floods or something, but I may well be just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Incidentally it was announced today (2016-02-26) that there were no flood warnings in place in England and Wales for the first time in 94 days. 

One problem I did have today, despite the fact it wasn't really that cold, was keeping my hands warm even though I was wearing neoprene gloves. Which is way I retired back to the car for a cuppa, with the intention of fishing dead baits in a large eddy near the weir. After a natter with the staff as they arrived for work. I noticed a couple more cars arrived with anglers heading towards the spot I intend to fish. As there was only space for three or four anglers in this area I opted for my second choice swim. A large eddy above the weir with another smaller eddy by some over hanging trees. With one bait by the trees and another in the middle of the eddy I settled back with another cuppa. Around midday the float under the tree moved off. Tightening down there was a slight tug of the rod tip then the float popped up. I quickly retrieved the mangled remains of the sprat and impaled another one on the large single hook dropping it back in the same place. This was the only action of the day, despite a couple of changes of location.

The anglers fishing in and around my first choice swim hadn't had a good day either, the only angler to catch had been taking very small chub near the lock. So perhaps my performance wasn't so bad.

Nearly Back on Form

I should have been writing this blog from foreign lands, but due to circumstances beyond my, or anybodies, control I'm stuck in good old blighty.

it was a late start after getting  things sorted that saw me wandering along the river bank lure rod in hand. It looked like nobody had been fishing there for a while as there were no foot prints in the muddy swims, only a few dog prints. To be honest the river looked rather lifeless as the sun poked through. The virgin swims were rather treacherous under foot and great care had to be taken if I wanted to stay on the bank and not end up in the river. Eventually I reached the conflux, a known hotspot  to find a few fish topping.

As the river is quite deep at this point I put on a heavy sinking Jerkster, in perch pattern, and after a few casts latched onto a good feisty pike that looked like a tubby double.  Eleven pound it weighed, much to my joy.

Jerkster

11lb Pike

Apart from discovering a couple of new snags the floods had deposited that, sadly, was to be it for the day. Still. not a bad day with a decent fish under my belt. I suspect I could have had more with an earlier start. I did have a natter with another angler, out for a walk, who provided a bit of useful information on the barbel. Which may be worth pursuing at a later date, as I have a week off near the end of the season. This weekend, though, is pike fishing.

Flood Debris

Slump In Form

All sportsmen go through a slump in form. It doesn't matter whether it's angling, golf, cricket, or any other sport. This is what I keep telling myself as I venture forth in the hope my slump is over.

Today's plan, following a discussion last week, was a spot of live baiting. Just float fish maggots, bread, sweetcorn and you'll soon have a few roach or skimmers, I was told. There are several reasons I don't do much live baiting these days. I rarely manage to catch them on the day and even if I do catch the fish are invariably the wrong size, too small or too big. If they're are the right size then the pike won't be feeding or I just catch jacks.

So armed with a pint of maggots I fished a smallish waggler on the drop with double maggot. After a couple of casts I had a bite and all too quickly bumped of what felt like a reasonable perch. I continued on for another 30 mins. with nothing to show, not even a chewed maggot before moving round the pond to a bay where I'd seen fish topping. The moment the float hit the water all activity stopped. I sprinkled a few maggots around a couple of likely spots before chucking a couple of dead-baits out. Alternating between bread and maggot I continued to try and get a live bait or two. After a while I struck at a slowly sinking float and was met with something solid. Slowly, what looked like a double figure carp rose to the surface, at which point it dived straight to the bottom creating a cloud of bubbles. The line promptly parted at the hook. I had failed to notice the anti-reverse was on and I couldn't back-wind. The clutch on my old Daiwa closed face reel being next to useless. That was it for excitement for the day.

At least I have a excuse for not catching tomorrow, a work party.

On a brighter note, here's a bloke not catching while giving out some very use advice about lure angling.

Catch more fish on lures Top Tips

Can't be Bothered

Went fishing, failed to catch.

Fished all the usual dead bait methods plus a variety of lures and could even raise a jack. I think my nest trip will include a float rod to see if I can catch a few live  baits, although this can prove just as frustrating which is one reason I don't normally use live baits. Along with the fact a lot of waters I fish they're banned.

The only interesting thing to day was the weather. Glorious sunshine, hail, glorious sunshine, hail...

Fish, and no pictures

Having finished work at one, I had a quick pot poodle before heading to a pond nearby.  After a bit of slip 'n' slide in the parking area I was soon chucking a jerk bait out. Although conditions looked OK, I wasn't that confident of success and given my recent performances that isn't really surprising.  After an hour of throwing, twitching and tapping I abandoned pond and moved to the nearby canal.

I'd originally planned to fish the canal, but as I left work thought I'd give the pond a go as I'd not been there for a good while.  

The first fish came after a couple of casts, a small jack. Taking my phone from my pocket, to photograph the fish, I got an ominous massage. It claimed low battery and was going to switch it's self off. Twenty minutes earlier there was over 90% charge, now only 3%, so no pictures as I'd forgotten the camera. This, of cause , meant I was going to catch the fish of a lifetime and have no means of recording it.

After another couple of little jacks came out of the next two swims I decided to go back to the car and swap outfits to something a lot lighter as little jacks of this size aren't much fun on a heavy jerk rod. Armed with my Quantum bait-caster and a small Salmo slider jerk bait, I continued where I'd left off. I soon had three more small 1 - 1½lb jacks. The extra foot or so of this rod also allowed me to fish along the edge of the dead reed beds a lot easier and it was here that I found a shoal of perch about 8-12oz, of which I took four before they disappeared.  This continued as I moved along the canal. Nearly every feature produced either a small jack or 2-4 perch to the same little jerk bait.

Eventually my hands stopped functioning properly as the cold began to effect them, I'd left my gloves in the car, and as it was starting to get dark I decided to finish for the day. I've never understood the oft repeated claim that lure fishing is a good way of keeping warm. I stay a lot warmer sitting under a brolly, watching floats and/or waiting for alarms to sound while drinking endless mugs of tea.

All in all, quite an enjoyable few hours fishing and nice to be catching again.

The problem with the phone may be solved by two or three discharge - charge cycles.

Water, Water, Every Where

Believe it, or not, I used to catch fish before I started this blog.

After some umming and ahing, whether to fish baits or lures and information that a few decent jacks had recently been coming out of Pocklington canal, that's where I ended up at first light. Throwing medium sized jerk baits as I wandered down the canal every thing looked god. The wind wasn't too bad and the water had a bit of colour to it. Appearances can be deceptive, either that or predators don't feed on Sundays. As I proceeded to catch nothing. Nor did I see any fish, a follow would be nice.

On the way back to the car I had  few casts around a bridge with various lures and had a shoal of small perch accompany a lure in. Changing to a small crank bait then spinner produced nothing. The only other fish I saw all day was a bream about 2-3lb that looked to be suffering a long slow death from a deep gash on its back which looked like propeller damage to me.  Further on I had a quick chat with an angler spinning for perch, he to was busy blanking. He'd also had a blank on another stretch that I intended to visit if this one failed. Lunch and a rethink was called for.

While eating lunch my informant turned up, walking his dog, and after hearing my tale of woe suggested I try further down as he'd had a few fish for there recently. So of I trundled in the car to another stretch. What we hadn't realised was how far the Derwent had come up and was now backing the canal up. I gave it a go with one or two different noisy lures but again failed to attract interest.

 



















The huge 'lakes' either side of the canal were a sight to behold. This is supposed to happen as this area is now a wetland nature reserve and very impressive it looks when flooded.

Arriving back at the car I realised I may have a problem. I hadn't noticed when I parked up, but he front wheels were in a dip on some rather soggy grass. It took a lot of prating about and all four car mats to get the car out. I really should have had more sense than to park there.

Despondent and muddy I made my way home, stopping at a local pond for a rather half hearted chuck with a couple of lures in the vain hope of saving a blank. Again a blank.  I really wish I knew what's going wrong, if anything.

It Seemed Like a Good Idea

If I was really desperate to catch a fish I suppose I could take a couple of pints of maggots down to a local commercial fishery. Instead I decide to fish the River Foss. It's name is derived from the Latin word Fossa, meaning ditch, apparently. It looks like one for a large part of it's length as well, mainly due to it's canalisation in the 18th century.

 Quite why I choose to lure fish a two foot, or less, deep ditch I don't know, especially as it had recently suffered the worst flood that I can remember. Otter predation and pollution have also been a problem. 

My first few casts were under a bridge with a jig head mounted Grass Minnow this produced nowt. I changed to a small shallow diving plug to fish the rather featureless river upstream. My intention was to fish the Grass Minnow near features and the plug along the featureless sections. A few more casts with the plug resulted in a take. I struck and the fish kitted right, in to the bank and then went a bit odd. A piece off water logged wood then surfaced and was quickly subdued.

The next feature, after the bridge, was a couple of eddies in an S-bend next the remains of an old sluice gate. This also produced nowt. Another cast with the plug produced another bit of wood, the remains of the piling at the side of the river, snagged as the lure bumped along the bottom.

 



 














I continued upstream using the same tactics, until lunch time when I tried something different. As I was in a sunny spot just upstream of two weed beds which narrowed the stream causing it to quicken, I put on a 13cm soft 4-Play. Casting it into the narrowed section I then propped the rod against an old pile allowing the lure to flutter about in the current. By tapping the rod butt with my foot, as sat having a sandwich and cup of tea, the lure would swing across the current. This stunning innovation failed to produce as well.

 I continued upstream, to the end of the club stretch and the original canalised section. The only fish I'd seen up to this point were a couple of small shoals of 2-3" something-or-others. As I was stumbling along the bank trying to get into a suitable position to drop the jig into an eddy behind an old reed bed I spooked a duck which crashed in to the water, before taking of. Two bow waves shot downstream out of the eddy. Whether either would have taken my bait I don't know, but clumsiness had ruined the chance to find out.

With no indication that I was going to see any action on this stretch I decided to have a go on a deeper section down stream.

A brisk walk back to the car and I was soon at the down stream section. I decided to use a large plug on this section, an ABU Tormentor in fire tiger with a rattle, as the water was a bit more coloured. Not that this did any good. All too quickly the light began to fade and I decided to set off back to the car before it got too dark as the banks were strewn with flood debris making it somewhat dodgy under foot.

Maggots and a commercial are beginning to look rather inviting, but then would I enjoy it.

Where Are All The Big Girls

Trying to write about my dire performance as a pike angler is getting a bit tedious. Again on Sunday I was at the syndicate. I witnessed a very feisty, near 15lb, carp being caught just after I arrived. After which I had a wander round throwing lures, with only a small jack to show for the effort, I settled into a likely looking swim to fish dead baits. 

The usual sort of tactics were employed. Float fished sardine over a old lily bed to the left. Joey mackerel ledgered out in front, on a shelf and a smelt popped just of the bottom over another dead lily bed to the right. After half an hour I was about to move the baits when the left hand float shot of at an alarming rate. A rather lethargic 2lb ish jack was wound in, which kindly shed the hooks just as I grabbed the trace. Another sardine was put out, this time injected with oil, in the same place. Another half hour passed before I swapped the two float rods about. Another half hour passed with no action so I moved the baits again, this time to the bottom of the shelf. Another half hour and the float rods were swapped again and thus it continued for the rest of, a rather drizzly day.