Bugs, Frogs and Rats

This post is a bit of an omnibus edition as technical, and other, issues have prevented me publishing anything.

I've been mainly lure fishing for the last few weeks, starting with frogs. This is great fun, pike crashing through lily pads, thick weed and reed beds in an attempt to grab the bait. It was surprising how many pike missed or just grabbed a leg. Unfortunately getting the hooks to stick was another matter. Initially I was striking too quickly, but even when I left the fish to turn I couldn't get the hook to stick mainly, I think, due to them being small jacks. 

 


















Next up was a trip to a small river for a bit of chubbing with lures. The little Korum Bug doing a very good job at attracting small chub and a possible double figure pike which got it's self round the back of a over-hanging tree. Having bashed my way through the undergrowth to get the other side of it, the pike thrashed about and spat the lure out.

A trip to another river to try out a Spro Rat resulted in a spirited 8lb 2oz pike on the second cast as I twitched along the marginal reeds. A few casts later a little jack managed to bite the tip of the tail off. Despite thinking it would do well along the margins that was it for the session.

 



















Finally a trip to the seaside for a spot of LRF. Arriving 3 hours before low tide with the intention of fishing 3 down, 3 up. I was told the mackerel had been and gone an hour earlier and nothing much else was happening. I'd managed to forget the small hooks so Blenny bashing was as they didn't seem to be able to get their mouths round a size 8. Eventually I managed a small Pollock on a grass minnow. Talking to the locals it appears to have been the quietest day they'd had for a while, with only a couple more Pollock taken.

Flood Water Barbeling for Chub

Looking at the river levels on Sunday the Nidd, about 18" up and falling, seemed like the place to be to catch my first barbel of the season. The tactic this time was to sit it out in one swim, with two rods. The upstream rod was to be pellet with broken bits in a PVA bag, while the downstream rod was baited with meat over a bed of hemp.

After half an hour the downstream rod looped over in classic barbel style before springing back as I lifted into nothing. This happened half a dozen times before I contacted with something, a rather chunky little chub. This pattern repeated it's self for the next hour. I stuck it out as barbel often appear among the chub.  All the action had been on the meat rod up to this point. As the bites slowed on the downstream rod the pellet rod started to show signs of life. A similar pattern to the downstream rod soon developed. By leaving the rod alone as it rattled about in the rod rest I managed to avoid dealing with the small chub.

This was how it continued for the rest of the evening, contacting the occasional little chub all of them about the same size. No sign of a barbel, they'll turn up though. Eventually.

Barbeling for Bleak

Sunday's plan was easy, trotting for barbel. Start at the swim I was in Saturday, feed with copious quantities of hemp and dead maggot. Hack may way to another swim, feed as previous and then on to a third, feed and return to the first. Trot for 30-40 minutes in each swim while loose feeding live maggots. The only problem I could see was my nose was now streaming from hay fever and making it hard to concentrate. So I decide to ledger a 1/2" piece of meat to start with. 30 minutes in each swim produced absolutely nothing. By now, after taking another anti-histamine, my nose was under control. Time for some trotting.

Two live maggots and an artificial one on the hook and I was soon into bleak! If I got a bite it was a bleak, not a fish a chuck, but a steady flow of them taken well down the swim. If the float managed to get to the end of the swim the maggots were generally intact. This was repeated in the next swim. The third swim, though, only produced perch or gudgeon. This swim was shallower and pacier. than the other two. A change to a size 8 and half a dozen maggots did nothing except reduce the bites to zero. Perhaps If I'd gone bleak fishing I may have latched onto a barbel.

 
By now the rain clouds were on the horizon. I'd just got packed up when it started. By the time I'd got back to the car I was sodden.

Straight Ahead to the River

Saturday saw me down by the Nidd again, but on a different stretch. Judging by the sea of untrampled himalayan balsam, it looked like I was the first one down there this season. After slashing my way along the top of the bank I found a nice glide to attack with stick 'n' 'pin.





















It proved to be a steady afternoon taking chublets, dace, roach, gudgeon, perch and bleak. Late on I latch in to something heavier, which obligingly came steadily towards me, but staying deep. Once it got level it changed it's mind and shot 20 yards down stream, straight into some tree roots. Probably one of the local loony barbel, which I intended to fish for on Sunday. The rest of the evening went uneventfully with a steady flow of little uns.

Hook Thieves

Friday I returned to the NIdd, to fish the other swim I fancied. Similar depth to Thursday's swim, but with more pace. On the way I spotted an interesting new feature that had landed on top of one of the more productive barbel swims.

Like Thursday I was going to be trotting maggot for whatever. First couple of trots produced a couple a couple of small chublets. Twenty minutes of nothing then ensued before a small dace put in an appearance. Half an hour after that I had a few small roach. I then got bit of well up the hook length. As the fine drizzle had now turned to rain I put the feeder rod out while I put the brolly up and put a new hook length on. Having poured myself a cuppa the rod tip lurched over and I lifted in to nothing. Again the hook length was bitten of well up it's length.

With the rain getting heavier I tied a new hook onto the feeder rod and cast out again. As a waited a moment for the feeder to settle, the rod was nearly snatched out of my hand. This time I caught site of the assailant, a small  1lb or so jack. I really didn't fancy moving in the rain, so chucked the feeder out again. This time I'd put a braid hook length on. After fifteen minutes with out a bite the rain had stopped. I decided  to have a couple of trots before moving. Second run through and I was in to something reasonable. After a minute or so a large perch was in the net. Looking like a good 2lb plus fish I was surprised how light it was when I lifted it out of the net. On the scales it came to 1lb 14oz, but looked a god half pound heavier.

Further trots down produced either very small roach or chewed maggots. On what turned out to be the final cast of the evening, the float shot upstream. I failed to contact any thing on the strike and when retrieved the hooks was again missing. With a very dark cloud heading toward me I decided to beat a retreat. I got back to the car just as the heavens opened.


One thing I've noticed over these couple of days is, despite there been plenty of insect life on the water I never saw anything rise to them. Oh well, there's always tomorrow.

Opening Day on the Rivers

June 16th, first day of the coarse fishing season on rivers and like the opening day of the trout season it tends to not live up to the hype. The last couple of season I've gone down to the Nidd for opening day and had a few pleasant hours trotting for what ever in the sunshine. This year was the same, with out the sunshine.

After hacking my way through the Himalayan Balsam I was on the side of the the river, trotting rod and 'pin, couple of maggots on the hook, full of anticipation. It was a good half hour before I got my first fish, a 6" dace, a few more followed over the next hour before the little, 4" chublets moved in. If you ever have problems identifying these little fish it's easy, if it has a mouth full of maggots it's a chub, if not it's a dace.

 

 

















After a while everything went quiet. I chucked out a bomb rod while I had a cuppa and some thing to eat. The bomb rod sat motionless so I returned to the float rod, a grayling was the next fish, which was lunged at by a pike as I brought it over the near bank ledge. a couple more followed before going quiet again. 

The final hour consisted of 'unmissable' bites, little chublets and gudgeon. While not up to previous years it was still pleasant non the less.

More Mayfly Madness

With my original intention of fly fishing the river on hold due to my new fishing buddy having to work, I continued on with my investigation of the beck. Things looked promising as I peered over the bridge to see mayflies fluttering about.

Having entered the water at the bridge I found the first section to be unfishable with a fly rod due to low lying branches right across the water and a tunnel of hawthorns. There were, however, one or two fishing rising to the mayflies under the hawthorns. I attempted to drift a fly down to them by feeding the line down. Due to the swirling currents this didn't work, the fly kept dragging or swinging over to the wrong side.

Further upstream I found a trout, a veritable monster for this little beck, taking the odd mayfly. Hidden under a trailing briar, it would shoot out, grab an insect before dropping back underneath. My first cast, with a HWM, landed inches from the briar and was quickly grabbed. Luckily for me the fish shot upstream into the deeper water, after a bit of toing and froing it suddenly shot back downstream into it's lair and becoming firmly lodged there. By the time I had stumbled upstream to the briar the trout had gone, but not before knotting the tippet round a stem with a overhand knot.

After battling my way through more trailing branches I came to a very narrow section of fast moving water infested with minnows. Any fly I cast into the area was immediately nudge about by them. Passing through the area I came across some fish rising at he small midges, the mayfly had now disappeared. These turned out to be a shoal of little 4-5" dace, again they would happily nudge the dry flies about or splash at them and sink them. The fly life was now very sparse with only the occasional up-wing and a few midges to be seen.

 I continued to the top of this section with some speculative casting of one of the John Storey flies I tied earlier in the day. These had been treated with floatant on the hackle only so that the peacock body is under the water and the eye pointing at the sky, looking all wrong this is the correct way to fish it.

A cast to a couple of small trout feeding very close to the edge resulted in the tippet wrapping round a dead stalk before the fly landed on the water and was taken by one of the trout. The fish then proceeded to flap about frighten several fish away. Obviously it had fallen of by the time I got to it. As I was near the top of the section and with a long walk back I called it a day.