I had the bright idea to have a go fly fishing for the dace I'd been catching during the close season. Despite the bright sunshine I thought they maybe rising or at least looking up. What I hadn't bargained for was the colour of the river. Having looked at the level it was nearly down to normal summer levels, but the colour hadn't dropped out of it. There was, however, a reasonable amount of insect life about, but I didn't see anything rising as I headed down to the bottom of the stretch. In fact, as I worked my way back upstream I didn't see a single fish rise.
I tried a bit of speculative fishing dropping a foam beetle along the tree line or a foam dun, as a few were fluttering about, in likely looking spots. I did see quite a lot of fry in some of the slacks and the minnows had a go at the fly occasionally, but I remained fish-less for my three mile walk. I then headed to the top stretch to see if anything was happening there.
It wasn't long before I spotted three or four rises to small duns and first cast with a size 16 foam dun produced a take. It was one of the dace I was after, but I managed to bump it off some how. Dace and barbless hooks just don't really work. Thankfully another fish was rising a few yards further up and took the fly first cast. This turned out to be a grayling. A fish that magically disappears when you're after them in winter. That turned out to be it. No a further fish were seen as I made my way up to the top of the stretch. Nor on the way back down.
I'd wandered over five miles in the hunt for fish. I'm sure if the water had been clearer instead of mud coloured they would have been rising, but still it had been useful as it was the first time I'd seen the river at this level after the two recent floods. Judging by the boils and scum lines some features had disappeared and others had formed. Worth noting for when the colour drops out.
You've just got to love people that go for a walk in the country and
complain that the riverside path is very muddy, while wearing white
canvas shoes, and that somebody should cut the nettles back. These are probably the same people that want dual-carriageways to all their favourite destinations, so they can admire the view.
The river was at a reasonable level, but somewhat coloured. I'd selected one of the shallower swims in the hope of doing a bit of float fishing. This, though, proved futile as the weed extended further than I thought and there wasn't a straight path through it. So it was back to the leger. As usual I chucked a big bit of garlic Spam upstream and a straight leger with halibut pellet downstream. I loose fed copious quantities of 4,6 & 8mm pellets. The first bites was to the Spam rod. A real three foot twitch, but no contact. I assume it was a chub as they're quite good at this. The first fish came after an hour, on the pellet. A chub of 2lb 5oz. This was quickly followed by a physically larger fish of the same weight. A little while later a lees than subtle bite, again on the pellet, provided another chub of 3lb 2oz. A rather tatty specimen with a bit of a chunk taken out of it near the anal fin and a size 14 Kamasan animal hook in it's lip. I was using the same hook, that's why I recognised it. Another slightly tatty specimen of the same weight followed on the next cast. Two four pounders next, hopefully.
As I retrieved the pellet rod after some debris hit the line a large pike swirled on the surface. A good double by the looks of it. After half an hour with no bites I upped the feed in the hope the chub might come back and had a wander downstream to see how the angler there was doing. He'd had a few dace and loads of minnows on float. He'd also lost a chub, and no he wasn't using size 14 hooks. I had another tug on the Spam, with no contact before a big twitch on the pellet produced a near 3lb chub. The Spam went again. This time I contacted and a barbel of 7-8lb quickly surfaced before going ballistic and hurtling upstream. I managed to drag it out of three different weed beds before the hook length parted right at the hook. I have enough trouble breaking that stuff when snagged, so was a bit miffed to say the least.
While the jets were hurtling about overhead a cormorant worked it's way downstream, along the far bank. Again everything went quiet for a while, apart from the military jets. Same for the chap downstream, as it had surfaced in his swim before flying back well upstream. With time running out before I had to be away I piled in the loose feed and was rewarded with a couple more chub. One of 2lb 10oz and one at 2lb 12oz.
Still a bit miffed with the lost barbel and the cormorant. I packed up. The chap downstream had packed up as well, after eventually catching a chub albeit only 8oz. To actually hook three barbel on consecutive trips on the Derwent, though, is rather good going. I probably won't see one now until the end of July.
Down to the river again today. It had dropped a little bit further, but was still very coloured. As I was setting up I watched a couple of crows harassing a, what I'm told, Buzzard. Just before I took my first cast, a Kingfisher did a couple of bellyflops on the water near the far bank. I'm not sure what this is about, but I saw it a couple more times through the day.
Tactics to start with were, garlic Spam on one rod with a small bag of bits of Spam and halibut pellet on the other with a feeder. It was a couple of hours before the Spam rod sprung back and I was into a ridiculously fit barbel that kindly showed me where all the weed beds were. A lovely unmarked fish of 7lb 10oz.
The next bite came to the pellet rod. The tip whacked over, but I failed to contact with any thing. This happened twice more before I changed to banded pellet from hair rigged. For the rest of the day I got bites like this, but never contacted with a thing. I tried pellets from 8mm to 25mm; hooks from 10 to 4; banded or hair rigged; hook lengths from 6" to 6'. I put a straight lead on in case they were picking the feeder up. At least three bands were snapped or cut clean. Small bits of Spam were tried, along with a couple of artificial maggots. I spent a while touch legering, but all I got was the same solid sharp tug. I'd assumed at first it was Chub hence the change to banded pellet, but now I've no idea.
Eventually the bites dried up, which to be honest came as a bit of a relief as it was driving me mad. Apart from a half-hearted rattle on the Spam rod, that was it for the last hour. As the clouds were beginning to get blacker I called it a day, a very frustrating day. It really was one of those days hat make you question the wisdom of angling as a pastime, but I'll be back.
Just as the rivers are starting to fine down we are now threatened with thunder storms. Lets hope the stay away from the rivers, especially the Steeping around Wainfleet or the may not get back to their houses on Friday.
I'm sure most people would have noticed it had basically rained for the first half of June and he rivers were not looking great for the opening day. With this in mind I decoded not to rush out at first light, especially as the rivers had been falling and continued to do so. The first reports I got were just a few minnows and/or gudgeon been caught, but he biggest problem had been accessible swims. By the time I got to the river, mid afternoon, the later was no longer a problem and you could now tell where the bank ended and river started.
I had basically decided on tactics before I got to river, given it's colour. A big bit of garlic spam on one rod and a lob worm or two on the other. The only other decision was stationary or mobile. The occasional showers made siting it out in the same swim seem like a good idea. I was surprised, given the state of the river, how many insects were out and about, even a couple of mayfly fluttered past.
Apart from a couple of rattles on the worm rod the first bit of action was to the spam rod. After a bit of debris had dislodged it and pulled it away from the feature I wound in to recast when a pike shot out from under a nearside tree and grabbed the lead. I played it for half a minute before it's teeth cut the line. Why a pike will hang on to something so hard I don't know.
The first fish, a gudgeon, was landed after a couple of hours. I gave a astonishingly positive bite on the barbel rods, as did two more later on. All taken on a size six hook and double lob worm! Not what I was hoping form, but not a blank either. Prior to this I was speaking to a couple of anglers who'd been there since first light. One of whom had had a 6lb 2oz chub from his only bite. The other having a smaller one. So they were out and about. Sadly not in my swim. Hardly a magical opening day, but not a blank. While I'd rather have been float fishing, but conditions were against it. Still the rivers are continuing to drop, albeit rather slowly now. Things can only get better, I hope.
One nice story I heard today, about opening day. A friend who's a member of a small river syndicate where here is no night fishing decided that, as he was on lates Saturday, he'd sleep in the car in a lay-by near the fishery entrance so as to be there at fist light. It wasn't until 9 o'clock when the other syndicate members gathered for a communal breakfast that somebody rang him to see how he was doing that he woke up. After a hearty breakfast and more than a little bit of mickey-taking, his first cast produced a bite almost immediately. This resulted in the first of two double figure barbel. Both by far the biggest of the day.
Yesterday he rain had been predicted to arrive at one. This morning it had moved to two, so I wasn't really sure how long this session would be. I walked briskly along the river looking for insect life and/or rising fish. After thirty minutes I spotted a fish rising, despite no obvious insect life. I prepared to cast the Klinkhåmer out, a fly I'd put on for a bit of prospecting if nothing was showing. A couple of false casts and every thing came to a halt behind me. The tippet had wrapped round the electric fence at the top of the bank. Forgetting it was an electric fence, despite crawling under it two minutes earlier, I grabbed the fly and brushed the wire. My hand was thrown away and the hook was embedded in the middle finger. As luck would have it, I'd forgotten to debarb the fly. Gritting my teeth I gave it a tug with the forceps and out it came, with surprisingly little blood or pain. In fact it's more tender now as I type this than it had been all day. Just to add insult to injury, as I made my way back down the bank I spooked mummy and her ducklings who promptly shot through the swim. Despite waiting fifteen minutes or so the fish never rose again.
I spent another hour wandering the banks looking for signs of action. I dropped the Klinkhåmer in here and there to no avail. Eventually I came across a few uprights fluttering about. No fish were rising, but martins and sparrows were plucking the insects out of the air. I nearly drained the battery in my phone trying to film one catching a fly. It seemed whichever insect I pointed my camera at was not the one they'd take. A trout then started rising and took my fly first cast. A nice fish of ten inches or so. other rises started a bit further up stream, but these turned out to be small grayling and some rather nice dace. Why weren't the grayling about in winter when I tried for them and I bet the dace will disappear come the sixteenth. A bit further up, at the end of a cattle drink, another trout started to rise. By the time I got to the cattle drink the cattle had decided I was worth a visit. One of them plonking itself right on the line of my backcast. The river here drops to about four foot very close to the sheer bank. I managed to inch along the narrow shelf away from the cattle and get a couple of casts at the fish before pricking it when I struck too quickly.
It now started to drizzle a bit and with the phone shutting down I decided to retire to the car for a spot of refreshment as it was close by. The drizzle never amounted to much, but the refreshments were very welcome. As I was about to set off again the farmer turned up to check on the cattle. After discussing what a daft bunch he had this year he told me is grandson had caught a salmon earlier in the year while spinning for pike. Despite the low res of his cheap phone it was obvious, from the pink stripe, it was a large rainbow. It looked like a double, similar in size to the one I'd hooked and lost a couple of years ago. I explained that it was a very impressive rainbow trout and that it had probably escaped from the fish farm upstream some years ago. I enquired what had happened to it and was told it had been returned as his grandson didn't want to kill it. I must admit I'm in two minds about this. As they are escapees and not stocked I don't mind as much. I'm not really sure if they are detrimental to the native browns.
I managed a few casts to rising fish, but only got a few decent dace for my efforts before the rain proper arrived. As I left a pike scattered the dace before returning back under the trees. I managed to get back to the car before getting soaked and with out the cattle blocking the gate. Just over a week before the coarse season opens and it looks from the weather forecast like the rivers might get a flush through if The Moors don't soak up all the rain.
I headed out earlier than usual to the river as I'd been informed the trout were rising freely between ten and twelve, and again between two and four. Not on Thursdays though, only the first three days of the week. During the morning I only saw three fish rise and very little insect life. As I stood on the bridge at the bottom of the stretch pondering what to do next I got talking to an old chap who commiserated with me as the fish ha been rising freely in the morning for the last few days. He assured me that they would probably rise for a couple of hours in the afternoon, from around one o'clock. He did warn about something my informant had mentioned, there are now a lot of 2-3" trout and parr active. They knock the fly about something chronic very much in the manner of minnows or small dace. He also pointed to a couple of pencil sized eels, like I'd seen in a couple of other small rivers, but he reckoned they were brook lamprey looking for somewhere to spawn. I must admit I'd began to think the ones I'd seen before were lamprey after seeing various bits of video of them recently. The only way to be sure would be to catch on really.
After a spot of luncheon by the river the fish did start to rise, as predicted, just after one. Taking the old chaps advice I'd tied on a small black fly which was attacked the moment it hit the water. Thankfully it was a rather nice little trout of nearly six inches. Over the next half hour several more of a similar size came to hand. Then the little horrors showed up and they were right, they were worse than small dace or minnows. More often than not they would miss the fly, but still manage to drown it. Thankfully a couple of false casts would dry it, but it id get rather annoying as they would beat the larger trout to the fly. I did try a small foam beetle, but this was completely ignored by the larger trout. By watching and waiting I managed to avoid this problem to some extent as there seemed to be pockets of the smaller fish. The trick was to look for areas where there was just the occasional rise. Eventually the rises stopped as the insects disappeared. I had a look at a another stretch, but it appeared to be dead. A fact confirmed by another angler as he returned to his car. After a pint at a local hostelry I headed home as I'd had quite a good day all in all. The other angle was going to wait to see if there was a evening rise.
I've fished here off and on for years and this problem which is not something I should get annoyed about as it shows that there was a very successful spawning last winter, unlike other winters. Hopefully some of the larger trout will turn cannibal and stay in the river rather than migrate to sea.
