Defeated By The Derwent

Friday saw me back at the Derwent. Quite why I don't know, as the reports hadn't been good. The river was the colour of stewed tea, about a foot up and not rushing through too quickly.  As I set off along the bank it started to rain, which solved the problem of where to fish. The long walk was out, so I settled for one of the less inconsistent swims. In any conditions the barbel normally come from the middle of the river and upstream is a nice slack that once produce two five pound chub, but normally produces nothing. The pellet rod went in downstream and the double lob worm set up went in the slack. I recast at regular intervals to get a few pellets in to the swim and chopped worm and ground bait into the slack.

The first bite came to the pellet rod. Whatever was on the end felt a bit odd as it swung into the nearside weeds. Rather than just heave I could wander downstream and pull form the opposite angle. Out popped a stick from the weeds. Whether there'd been a fish on initially I don't know. It did feel a bit like a fish. I then had three real rattling bites on the worm rod that resulted in nothing more than a chewed worm. Following one of the afternoon's short sharp showers I was lucky enough to see a double rainbow.

As afternoon moved into evening the amount of debris the downstream feeder picked up started to become a nuisance. While there was nothing much on the surface there seemed to be a lot of sunken leaves drifting down in the current. Another angler walk past with nothing to report in the way of fish, but had given up because of the debris. I was going to fish on in to dark, but the debris problem just got worse dragging the feeder into the nearside weeds. I tried the pellet rod in the upstream slack for half an hour before giving up.

Music while typing provide by: Foot Stompin' Podcast

Ure Double

As I looked at the river levels today, Friday, it was a slightly confused picture, but the Ure was rising steadily. Of course by the time I got there it had started to drop. It was however running through at a fair rate of knots and the first few swims didn't look too inviting. I eventually found one that had a nice crease downstream and a good slack behind a tree upstream. Equally importantly it had a flat bit of bank within three foot of the water, rather than been perched a lot higher up the bank. The double worm rod, along with a groundbait feeder with chopped worm, was dropped in to the slack. The pellet rod went downstream in to the crease.

As I reached round for the action cam the pellet rod wrapped round and I was in to a solid fish which clung to the bottom as I hauled it back upstream. A good heave got it to the surface and in to the net in one go. No faffing about under the rod tip avoiding the net. A nice barbel of 6lb 6oz. As I was releasing it from it's rest in the landing net the rod went over again. This one came upstream a bit easier, but did the usual barbel tactic of dashing about under the rod tip before giving up. Nearly a pound lighter at 5lb 7oz it had, unlike the first, managed to take line against the drag. 

Surprisingly that was it for the day. Two barbel in the first half hour, they normally aren't that quick to show up. I stayed quite a while into dark, but didn't get another bite. The worms remained untouched as well. Aren't the slacks supposed to be full of fish when the river is up and tanking through.

Music while typing provided by: Downtown Soulville with Mr. Fine Wine

The Derwent Skull

When I got down to the Derwent on Friday it wasn't too far up but tanking through. The only problem with not to far up was that it meant a lot of swims were not accessible in that I'd be too high up the bank. I did eventually find a swim closer to the river with a nice slack. The only thing to be aware of was it actually solid ground as looks can be deceptive. Reeds and other bankside vegetation can get flattened in a flood and hide the edge of the the river. A bit of poking with the old storm pole showed it to be solid. 

 

 

It was to be the usual pellet and feeder along with double lob worm.. The feeder was dropped downstream close to the bank and the worm into the slack behind the tree upstream. It wasn't long before the tip of the worm rod was bending further than it should under the weight of dead leaves. After a few more casts it became apparent the slack was just full of debris, so the worms went out into the middle of the river. I cast both rods to different spots for about thirty minutes at a time despite my confidence nothing fish shaped wanted to know.

I did however bring in a small skull of a long dead beastie neatly hooked on a size four and double lob worm. No idea what it belongs to and photographing it is problematic as it now a dark brown colour, presumably from been in the river for a long time. Anybody any idea what it was when it was alive.

Barbeling on the Ouse

It's oft claimed that angling is good for your mental health. This may be the case, but I do wonder about  angler's mentality at times as I trudged along the muddy bank with the drizzle turning to rain. For a change the car park had a few cars in it so the first few swim were taken and due to height of the river several were unfishable. I ended up half way along the stretch  and as the rain was getting heavier I put the brolly up and had a cuppa. I hate setting up in the rain. Once it had stopped I rearranged myself as shuffle my feet about had made the bank even greasier. The river really was at an awkward height and dropping very slowly. 

 

The usual tactics were employed. Pellet and feeder under the downstream  willow and double lob worm legered upstream about a third of the way across in a crease. There they sat while I watched the crows and seagulls harassing each other in the sunshine. A heron flew upstream while a cormorant flew upstream. Late in the afternoon the worm rod started to bounce about. I struck into nothing, all that had happened was the worms been stolen. A passing dog walker informed me that nobody else had caught.

As it started to get dark the temp started to drop. At this point I realised I hadn't got my big coat, I hoped I hadn't left on the roof of the car or something equally silly. Thankfully the chill wind had dropped, so it wasn't too bad. As it approached the Nautical Sunset I decided it was time to pack up. Just as I picked up the worm rod the pellet rod wrapped over and I was in to something very heavy. After moving it a couple of yards everything went considerably lighter. I assumed it was debris that had come off, when all hell broke loose. Whatever it was had gone into lunatic mode. It was all over the place. I was quite astonished it didn't get tangled with the other line. Switching the head torch on I could get the feeder to the surface, but the fish just refused to come up to the surface. Eventually something splashed about on the surface, but I couldn't find, or see, the landing net. The batteries had gone in the headtorch, so once again I was faffing about on a dark cloudy night trying to land a fish while struggling to see the landing net and the fish. At the same time the bank was getting greasier and greasier as I shuffled about trying to find the net handle. Eventually, the the aid of the phone torch,  I spotted it hiding in the nettles. With the phone perched on the seat there was enough light in the right place to see both the fish and landing net to get the beast in.

 

The fun of dealing with the fish on a greasy bank with a badly nettled hand and a torch that rarely shone it's light in the right direction was like something from a Laurel and Hardy film. Much to my surprise nothing, including me, ended up in the river. A quick weigh had the fish at 6¾lb. Packing up was a bit of fun as well, but all worth it in the end. 

 

Music while typing provided by : Punky!

Wrong Place Right Time

I thought I'd cocked up this morning, Friday, when I looked at the river levels. When I looked on Thursday morning the Ouse was Falling and the Derwent rising. When I looked this morning the Ouse had risen nicely from just after I'd looked at the river levels and should of been ideal. The Derwent had fallen while I was fishing it and blanking. Today the Ouse was falling again. It went down by over two feet while I was there. When I got to the river the path was still covered in water, but shallow enough to paddle through rather than having a long walk round. There was three other anglers fishing. Which, given the height of the river, limited the number of swims even though there are allegedly thirty three. The first angler, piking, hadn't had any luck, but the second had had a small barbel and reckoned not much had been caught Thursday.

I dropped into the fist swim I could find with a reasonably level bit near the river instead of several feet above. I decided to fish pellet feeder under the willows downstream and ledger lob worm out in the current mid-river. Although a bit of a chuck it and chance it tactic can pick up the odd decent fish. It used to be quite good at picking up the odd decent chub. First out was the pellet rig as I'd have to change he other to a large hook. When I switched the baitfeeder on it kept giving line. I started to tighten it, but the current wasn't that fast on the inside. Assuming I'd caught some debris I started to wind in and something pulled back a bit. I thought, all the way to the net, I'd hooked a bream. I was quite shocked when a barbel popped to the surface. A decent fish of 7lb 1oz that fought like a bream? Apart from looking washed out it appeared quite healthy. It certainly was five minutes later when it tried to swim off with the landing net.

A size four hook loaded with three lob worms and a 100g lead was chucked out upstream and came to a rest opposite me. After half an hour I got my first bite and in came a little eel which spiralled around my wrist leaving slime everywhere. Thankfully it was lip hooked. Quite often eels have swallowed the hook before registering a bit. Apart from having the worms stolen on a couple of occasions, signalled buy a vicious wrap of the rod tip, that was it for the worms.

Right at civil sunset the tip on the pellet rod went round and I was in to a very feisty fish which shot about all over the place. A very healthy barbel, a tad under 5lb, soon graced the net. A nice way to end the evening, and my holiday. The wind had got up again and it was getting chilly, so I called it a day, especially as the banks were still covered in greasy mud from the previous day's flood and I didn't want o end up in a fathom of cold fast water in the dark.

Back to work early Saturday. Next fishing trip will be the end of next week.

Back Down to Earth

After Wednesday's achievement Thursday brought me back sown to earth with a return to one of my favourite, but exasperating rivers, the Derwent. The river was about nine inches up from last time I visited, with three or four inches of water over the bank where I'd sat last time. There appeared to be only a couple of anglers fishing one of whom blanked  which as I've said before, is not a good sign on a known barbel spot when the river is up and coloured. Despite my best endeavours with the usual pellet tactics I didn't get anything that looked like a bite. The tip only going over when hit by debris. I did see a couple of deer pop out of the wood on the far bank and run along the edge of the hedge before disappearing. a couple of beasties were notable for the absence. No bats fluttering about and no owls hooting. They were too quick for me to get a picture. A mink also put in an appearance, bouncing about among the reeds and tufts of grass again avoid he camera.

Two Missions Accomplished

Despite the fact I'm on holiday I had previous engagements that prevented me from fishing for barbel at what appeared to be optimum times following the recent heavy rain. Even at the higher levels earlier in the week I would not have chosen The Ure to fish as I have very little knowledge of floodwater fishing on this river. Today, Wednesday, it was back near it's normal levels, so having not caught a barbel from here this season that's where I headed. I went straight to one of the swims I caught from last year. Block end feeder half  full of pellets, to allow for expansion and  double 12mm on the upstream rod over to the far bank near the tree roots and single banded 8mm pellet on the other downstream in the middle. Last year the barbel had all come from the far bank and chub from the middle of the river.

The rot tip rattled about occasionally on the downstream rod and every now and then got dragged over by debris drifting down the river. After  an hour or so the tip went over and the baitrunner started to click. Lifting in to what I hoped was a fish the clutch started to give line and as the fish set off downstream. I really must remember to check the clutch when I set up as it was clearly set rather light. Tightening it I started to pump the fish back upstream, it felt heavy, hugging the bottom. It didn't take too long to get it near me, but in classic barbel style it set of on several runs as I tried to get it to the surface. Eventually I got it up and in the net. Clearly a big fish, not that that mattered at his point as I was just after a barbel to complete the five rivers. Mission accomplished, a barbel from the Derwent, Ouse, Swale, Ure, and Wharfe this season. I also suspected it may accomplish another, long standing ambition, a double from each of the rivers. Lifting the fish in the weigh sling it nudge the scales round to just above 9lb. It looked bigger than that. Looking down I realised the fish was not fully off the mat as I was stood somewhat lower on the sloping bank. A bit higher lift and the scales went round to 10lb 14oz. With that I could have packed up then, but having paid for my ticket I was staying until dark, whether I caught another fish or not.

As i released the barbel after a bit of a rest several small fish scattered just downstream of the spot where the feeder was. While I was faffing about making a celebratory cuppa the tip started to bounce about as if a small fish was on. By the time I got hold of the rod it had turned into a barbel tip run. Lifting into it nothing. Retrieving the feeder the hook was missing and the bottom coup[le of inches was chaffed. I'd replaced the hook length after the previous fish and it seemed fine then. I suspect something small had hooked itself then been taken by a pike. More pike activity occurred a little bit later when one took a lunge at the feeder when I retrieved it to clear debris off the line. Just after Civil Sunset the tip on the far bank rod rattled for the first time and a chub of around a pound and half was quickly on the bank.

 

Having released the chub a gentleman reminded me that no night-fishing is allowed. The ticket actually says "No night fishing after dark" . Despite it been a cloudy night I could still see the far bank so to me it's not dark, but I took the hint. After all I'd accomplished two missions, so didn't really need to stay.

I tried for several years to get a double figure barbel from The Ure. Suffering many blanks before been distracted by other targets. It's therefore nice to finally manage it. Normally I would be pike fishing by now, but with the rivers still up and coloured and two days left of my holidays I think another couple of barbel trips are in order. I also need to work ourt how to use the camera on my new phone as the quality of the pictures seems a bit variable at the moment.

Fishing Through Three Sunsets And A Moonrise

Friday morning I kept looking at the weather forecast. With Storm Alex on it's way I was umming and ahing about going fishing, especially as the rain predicted for Saturday was now creeping into Friday. I'm not to fond of packing up in the dark and a loathe packing up in the rain, so the combination of the two was really putting me off. The other problem was the choice of venues. Having caught a Derwent barbel the previous day I was considering a trip to the Ure as I'd not fished there this season. The problem with the Ure was the long trek. If it did start seriously pissing it down it was a long work back to the car. On the Derwent though I could fish in sight of the car, so the Derwent it was. I know I've got perfectly good waterproofs etc. but cold and wet in the dark is no longer my idea of fun.

 My first choice of swim was thwarted by another angler. Although I was on the opposite bank and a fair way downstream it just felt too close given there was only the two of use on this stretch. I dropped into the next swim down. It was the usual pellet and feeder tactics that were to be deployed. After an hour or so, though, something didn't feel right. I don't no what it is, but some swims just don't inspire confidence.  Luckily the angler on the opposite bank started to pack up as I contemplated a move. With him gone I moved upstream. Although it was a tight little peg I felt a lot more comfortable here, even when it started to rain. Not that it rained for long, it had stopped by the time I got the brolly up.

A natter with a lure angler about the lack of action and the river seemingly switching off didn't dent my confidence. I sat through the Official Sunset, Civil Sunset, the Moonrise full of confidence. By the time of the Nautical Sunset my confidence was stating to wane slightly. I'd also used my last tea bag. Looking at the rain radar on the phone showed it to be not far away. Although it was far from cold it was exceedingly dark. The cloudy sky blocking out the moon and stars. With the possibility of heavy rain I decided to start packing up. I moved the chair and bag to the top of the bank, leaving just the rods and landing net in the swim. Having wound the upstream rod in the baitrunner on the downstream rod started to click very slowly. I suspect weed or a branch had snagged the line. Winding in confirmed this, something heavy and lifeless.

 

It remained heavy and lifeless until it got under the rod tip. Strangely it continued past me and upstream. For the next couple of minutes whatever it was circled round under the rod tip in nine foot of water not leaving the bottom. Eventually I got it to the surface, but still could see what it was in the dark. I went to switch the headlamp in, but it wasn't there, must be at the top of the bank I thought. The problem now was I really could see much and having to reach over the bankside vegetation with the landing net made matters worse. I could tell were the fish was by the splashing, but could tell when it was over the landing net. After a couple of failed attempts I got my phone out and got the torch switched on, but had no idea how I was going to hold a rod, landing net and phone with only two hands. A bit of inspiration had me drop the phone on the top pocket of my waist coat where the was just above the top of the pocket. After a bit more fumbling the fish was in the net. A nice looking barbel which kindly spat the hook out making life easier.

 

8lb 15oz with the tail of a much larger fish. Having taken a photo, which thanks to the fish been quite placid despite it having been rested in the net for a while, went  very easily. Having got packed up. I had one more swing round with the phone torch to see if I'd missed anything. and there was the headtorch. Halfway down the bank in a cowpat. Quite how it had got here I don't know, but it was quickly retrieved and put in a plastic bag.