Final Day

Why I fish the final day of the river season I don't know, It never really amount s to anything.

Using the same tactics as yesterday, roaming with cheese paste I tried further down the same stretch. After trying a couple of swims I was getting a few knocks in the third and latched onto a cheeky dace that had managed to get a size 6 hook in it's mouth. I tried a bit longer in this swim than scheduled before a small jack grabbed to hook as I was winding in and bit through as I drew it to the net. I think it was the orange bead that I'd hair rigged, to give the paste something extra to grip to, that had attracted it.

A few swims later and another little jack grab the cage feeder before coming adrift. By now the wind had got up and was blowing straight upstream, making bite indication a tad awkward. A couple more swims failed to produce. In the next I got a slow steady pull which resulted in I rather hollow 1¾lb chub, which put up no resistance at all, but seamed to swim off strongly enough. A few swims further on I pulled out of what seemed to be a good fish. Inspecting to hook showed no obvious problems, but I swapped it even so. Only for the same thing to happen in the very next swim. Over last few swims the only attention I got was another jack taking a lunge at the feeder as I lifted it from the water.

Not the worst day's fishing I've had, so that's it from the rivers until the 16th, or the 25th of March if I decide to do a bit of trout fishing.

Penultimate Day of the River Season

With the river season for coarse fish about to close and the rivers not looking too bad, I thought I'd use up a couple of my remaining holidays and have a go chucking cheese paste about.

Yesterday when I passed over the river it was a bit high but not too coloured. Today the colour had returned. Still I carried on with Plan A, roaming with one rod and a lump of cheese paste. It was well into the afternoon when the first bite materialised and what felt like a heavy but sluggish fish was contacted with. Eventually a chub of around 2½lb surfaced, along with a branch snagged in the feeder. Another, almost identical, chub turned up an hour later and several swims later.





























Not the monsters I was hopping for, but at least it wasn't a blank. We'll see what the final day, tomorrow, brings.

Taking Something's Dinner

For various reasons, like work parties, I've not managed much fishing this years and what little I have done has resulted in rather boring blanks. I wasn't full of confidence on Sunday when I arrived, rather late, at the syndicate water on Sunday, despite a couple of twenties being reported.

Having selected my swim I dropped half a float fished herring under the tree to my right. A small float fished smelt under the trees to my left and a popped up bluey in the tree in front of me. A gentle pull saw it land in the water just where I wanted it. After a few minutes the alarm sounded and the drop off bobbed up and down. I wound down into nothing. The bait showed no sign of damage. I managed to cast it back with out assistance from the tree this time.

The float to my right then bobbed up and down, and again I contacted with nothing, although there was sins of damage to the bait. I dropped it back under the tree. A little while later I went through the same procedure with the same rods. Half an hour later the float over the half herring bobbed  about before moving off. A small jack was quickly landed with noticeable scar on it and damage to the jaw as if some thing had attempted to have it for dinner.

 















A while later the popped up joey moved off and this time I latched on to a feisty jack around 6lb. Whether these were the fish that I'd missed earlier I don't know. Soon after this the rain set in for the day. Despite moving the baits about I didn't get another bite.

First of the Year

For various reasons I've only had a couple of trips out this year, both of which were blanks.

Saturday I decided a spot of trotting for grayling was in order, as the river was looking good, according to a friend who'd passed over it in the morning. After purchasing a pint of maggots, I readied the tackle for Sunday. After a bit of dithering I decided 10 ⅔ feet of cane was the way to go. I picked out a few grayling bobs and other bits and pieces. My intention was to fish short runs in the traditional manner. Tossing the float upstream and lifting the rod as it came towards me then dropping it as it goes past. These runs were the ones I'd been fishing Czech nymph style previously.

Foolishly I didn't check the river levels before I set off and found the river 0.5m up and rising. Still I decided to give it a go and after an hour was rewarded with my first fish of the year. A small WBT! This was to be the only fish of the day, despite wandering a couple of miles along the river. Near the top of the length rod rod started to feel a bit odd. The bottom ferrule had started to come loose from the cane. I seem to remember I was supposed to do something about this after the last time I used it. Not wishing to damage the rod I decided to give up and go home, arriving at the car as it started to drizzle, so it seemed like a good decision.
 

Last Session of the Year

The last session of the year went much as expected, not particularly good. A wander round with a lure rod produce a small jack and after a couple of missed runs a slightly bigger jack came from the margins on smelt. Even the camera decided to let me down by producing slightly out of focus pictures.

Lets hope next year is a bit better.

Winter Walk

With only a couple of hours available to fish, I decide to take a walk along a stretch of river I hadn't fished in a long while. With jerk bait rod in hand the only thing I discovered was the fact it was a lot more snags than I remember. I spent nearly as much time bending hooks out of immovable objects as I did fishing. Still it was a proper, pleasant, windless winters day.

Dead Fish at Dawn

Arriving at the syndicate just before light, I soon had a popped up herring flung out along the bar in front of my chosen swim. A popped up eel section was dropped at the bottom of the bar and a sprat  in the margins. Some hours later the sprat bait was taken and a jack of exactly 5lb landed after giving the impression of a far larger fish. With the sun out it was now warm enough to remove may big coat. I had been moving the baits every 30-40 minutes, but this had failed to attract any pike. Two more runs occurred on the sprat, mid-afternoon. The first resulted in a waterlogged branch and the second left just a small bit of flesh on the hook.