Twig Fish Heaven

'Twas  a rather warm and sunny day today and rather nice to be sat by a river. Probably not the best conditions for pike fishing, but still. I headed for a well known pike hotspot. The problem with these places is that everybody tells me how great they are but I never seem to do well at them. Another couple of anglers were there when I arrived. They were chucking feeders about. I settled in the middle of three likely looking spots. As I setup I noticed a couple of otter prints in the mud, but more worryingly the freshly sprouted seedling of the Himalayan Balsam.

A ledgered roach was cast to the far bank and a float paternostered trout dropped alongside the dying vegetation on the nearside. The feeder chuckers seemed to be catching bits regularly. I moved the baits about every three quarters of an hour or so. After three moves I had a cuppa which did the magic. The float trundled away and I was in. Nothing big then everything went solid. Then it started moving slowly towards me, something very heavy.  Eventually a large waterlogged branch and a little jack surfaced. I managed to grab the end of the branch and pull it in. Strangely the little jack didn't move in the same direction as the branch. It had clearly come adrift and slowly sank away. Oh well, at least they were feeding. Out went another trout while I finished my cuppa.

After my cuppa I moved the paternostered trout into the slack caused by the over hanging tree. The ledgered roach was tossed out to a far bank feature. I didn't have long to wait before the dropback clunked onto the bankstick. This felt a lot bigger than the first fish and moved steadily upstream hugging the far bank. A bit more pressure and it gave up and came in like a dead weight. As it got closer to me I tried lifting it off the bottom which seemed to wake it up. It plummeted to the river bed causing a huge cloud of bubbles to rise. Everything went very heavy again. A good heave created even more bubbles. I was snagged again. Bigger and heavier then the previous branch I eventually got the seven foot monster to the surface sans fish. A bit more heave and it was on the bank.

I tried the float rig in the entrance to the side stream but only seemed to snag more, considerably smaller twigs. By lunch time I'd had enough of this and moved back to the original swim and decided to sit it out in there. Despite moving the baits about and trying others like a sardine and eel section nothing much more happened. I tried flinging a few lures about for an hour or so but this achieved nothing apart from a few more twigs. The magic hour at dusk produced nothing either. Hooked two lost two isn't the best result but it does show I must have been doing something right.

Christening A New Rod

As I was doing my famed impression of an Uber today (Sunday) I was able to try out my new rod, while I loitered about waiting for the return journey. A Spro Freestyle baitcaster Matched with a Quantum Exo PT that I'd just given a clean up and service for the first time in the ten years I'd owned it. The rod casts 3-14g, I intended to use it with 5-10g jigs and the like. I few practice casts with a 7g jig and some twiddling of the brakes soon had it cast pretty well. Not that any of this impressed the fish as all I seemed to be able to catch were twigs.

I then had a wander along the canal casting across to the boats as close as I could get with out hitting them. It's surprising how much noise a 7g jig head makes when hitting the steel hull of a narrow boat. With little interest I tried a light jig head to see if a slower fall would pick up a fish from under the boats. This did the trick. A 63cm jack grabbed the bait on the fall as it dropped between two boats. The rod coped very nicely with the lively little beast. Although landing it was a bit of a problem. I hadn't realised how high I was above the water and had to lie down on the bank to reach the fish with my landing net as I couldn't get past the trees to a lower point. At least the rod was now christened.

Nothing more fell to this tactic and by the time I'd got to the bridge there were no more moored boats. Heading back to the car for a cuppa I tried a couple of crank baits on the way. These were at the lower end of the weight scale and proved a bit trick to cast initially but a slight change in timing soon brought the accuracy back. At the car I decided to have a chuck in the river. Something I'd not tried before as there appeared to be very little access down the very steep banks. The river was more coloured and flowing faster than I'd seen recently. Not the most pleasant of surrounding either with all manner of litter dangling from the tree branches.

Third cast with a Salmo Minnow and something hit the lure very hard. I suspected a large chub, but was very surprised to find a good sized trout on the end when it finally surfaced. I'd heard it had been quite good for trout years ago but they seemed to have disappeared recently, along with the barbel. The bank was too soft to unhook the trout in the water so on to the mat it went. A pale specimen with some strange black marks on it that a suspect may be from bad handling in the past. Despite trying few other spots it was the only thing that showed any interest.

fter a cuppa I had another short wander along the canal with a cheb rigged craw. Jigging it about close to edge produced a rather tentative bite. A strike hit something solid. As I lifted the rod a jack about the size of the previous one rose to the surface before diving and pilfering one of the claws of my bait. I tried a couple of different baits but it didn't return.

By now I'd been summoned for the return journey. At least the rod had been christened with a couple of hard fighting fish and coped admirably. I talked to three different anglers who all bemoaned the lack of fish. They all reckoned the area had deteriorated since the drought last year. Although one did wonder if the lack of perch was down to their habit of disappearing through disease or whatever.

Avoiding Otto

On Wednesday it was announced that storm Otto would be making it's presence felt on Friday and it would therefore be a tad windy. I can occasional show a bit of common sense and therefore chose to fish Thursday. There was a very pikey looking swim on a local river that I'd been wanting to fish but the water levels had been too high for some time. I'd had some nice perch from the swim in the past and recently some half decent chub had come out. It was at a point in the river where it widened out and thus slowed down. The far bank had some nice over hanging trees and the near bank was lined with aquatic vegetation. I was, however, rather deep being nearly ten foot a yard from the bank and dropping to nearly sixteen foot down the middle.

 

The river was a sort of oily green colour which is it's normal colour when it's cold. I've no idea why it turns that colour but still it had never been a problem before. My intention was to fish a paternoster bait close to the near side bank and a ledgered bait under the overhanging trees. So a smelt was attached to the paternoster and a trout to the ledger and out they went. I'd already tossed a few bits of fish soaked in oil about the swim. I intended to stick it out in this swim as there was a fair bit of river and several features I could target. Every hour or so I moved the baits adding a bit of oil to them every couple of hours. My first capture came after a couple of hours when I wound in a manky old lure. The next came an hour later when I snagged a small branch on the paternoster rig. This also nicked my bait so it was replaced with a roach.

 

By mid-afternoon I was beginning to think maybe I should have moved about  through some different swims. I'd moved the paternoster about quite a bit. Changing the depth it was fished at with out so much as a sniff from a fish. The ledger rig had been under several trees with nothing to show. Just as I'd poured the hot water into the mug for a cuppa the float bobbed and sunk away. A very feisty jack of 80cm had taken the roach and proceeded to stick very close to the bank gathering various bits of vegetation around the line and itself. As I got it to the surface it shook most of the vegetation off and dived for a rather nasty snag to my right. A goodly heave kept it out and into the net in one move.

Despite staying until dark that was the only run and fish of the day. Despite catching my intended quarry I was a bit disappointed as the swim had always looked to me Iike it would hold several pike. Maybe it's not a spawning spot and they've wandered off to there.

Trust, But Be Careful Of Whom You Trust

I'd originally intended to fish further up the Ouse instead of just outside the city, but I ended up a lot further up on one of the tributaries of a tributary. I'd fished here last summer and had problems with pike ripping the keepnet apart. Of cause this probably menat there wouldn't be any pike about in winter. The first couple of swims I plumbed up in turned out to be snag ridden hell holes. The next swim was the one I'd fished last time I was here. A float Ledger rig with a small trout was dropped just over the drop-off in the slack created by an over hanging willow. A ledgered piece of lamprey was chucked three quarters of the way across into the fast flow where one would normally fish for barbel.

No sooner had I got the kettle on than the drop-off dropped against the bankstick with a satisfying ping. Winding down I stuck into something solid that shot away downstream in the fast current taking line against the drag. I gave it a bit of stick and it was soon level with me but decided to behave like a barbel and continued upstream again taking line against the drag.  It then gave up in classic pike fashion and was soon in the net. A nice tidy beastie of 103cm and 14lb 11oz. It was also one of the most cooperative pike I've had in a while when on the bank. This was a godsend as it's a rather steep and slippy bank. Thankfully the kettle hadn't boiled dry and there was still enough water in it for a cuppa.

My last piece of lamprey was tossed out into the current again but a little further downstream. Half an hour later the drop-off dropped off again. I wound down to nothing, no weight at all. Realising the fish most be swimming towards me I wound frantically when suddenly the rod lurched over and I was in contact with a real headbanger of a fish. Slowly I managed to get it to head back towards me when I got that sickening feeling as felt the hook(s) lose their hold only to stick again. Another session of head banging and everything went slack. A check of the hooks showed them to be nice and sharp. I can only assume the pike had hold of the bait and was initially determined to keep hold of it. With no lamprey left a smelt was tossed back out into the current.

 Having finished lunch the float started to bob about before heading  towards the roots of the over hanging willow. Contact was made with a small and rather lethargic little jack of 80cm. Another trout was dropped into the same spot and half an hour later the float started to drift downstream. A strike and another serious headbanger. This time though it was only on for a few seconds before letting go of the bait. I tried trotting a small trout in various spots but nothing more was forthcoming. Four runs two lost isn't great but I'd had a couple on the bank so can't complain especially as it was the first time I'd pike fished there.

The Stile of Doom

 Having successfully negotiated The Stile Of Doom, the one that maimed me last year, and got to the top of the hill I had my first sight of the river. It looked wider, browner, and deeper than it should have. I'd looked at the levels the night before, at that time it was dropping having risen nearly eighteen inches the night before.  I'd forgotten about the second wave of rain that moved across The Dales which had lifted it again. I decided to give it a go even so. There river has plenty of bends here so there should be a few slacks  on the inside of the bends.

After a bit of a trudge I found half-a-dozen slacks into which I drop a few bits of chopped up fish soaked in sardine oil. The first swim I fished surprised me being nearly ten foot deep a foot from the bank and nearly fourteen foot three foot further out. First bait out of the cool bag was a lamprey section, so this was dropped a foot from the bank on a float ledger rig. There it sat for forty minutes or so before being moved further out. After a half hour or so I put a smaller weight on and shallowed up so the bait was about a foot from the bottom and let the float drift about for fifteen minutes. 

On to the next swim and the same tactics although this swim was somewhat shallower at eight foot. With no action after ninety minutes I moved on. As I arrived at the third swim there was a splash and a swirl. Pike feeding I thought (hoped). The furry face of an otter popped up took one look at me and dived again. I wondered if it had been feeding on the fish bits I'd tossed in earlier. Despite the otter I gave it a go while I had a cuppa. As it was a tad bigger than the other swims I put half a small mackerel out on the ledger rod in the main current. It took four ounces of lead to hold bottom. Again a blank. I did wonder whether to spend a bit longer in the swim but decided my best hope was to move. 

The fourth swim was a snag pit. I could feel the lead hitting branches on the way down. By now the river had dropped six inches and the fifth slack had all but disappeared. I tried dropping a bait in but it was soon dragged out into the main current. The sixth slack, though, had turned into a larger slack, so out went both baits. I spent two and a half hours in this swim as I was now hungry so spent lunch time there as well. Not that the extra time help as nothing was feeding  apparently. A bit of a scout round and another slack had appeared where there wasn't one before. Again devoid of feeding fish.

 

 

That was it one otter, an egret, some long tail tits, and no fish. The Wharfe is  bit of a bogey water for me when it comes to pike. I've had more pike attack swim feeders and maggots when I've been winding in than I've hooked and landed while pike fishing. I'll crack it one day though, provided I remember to look at the water levels before I set off.

A New Venue On A Nice Drying Day

 Having kindly offered to provide a free taxi service I was going to be stuck with nothing to do for a couple of hours, so diced to try a new venue and fling a lure, or two, around a lock. While Google tried to get me there, the new road, new houses and road works did confuse things somewhat, but I got there in the end.

What I hadn't taken into account was the wind. According to that Beaufort chappie it was a Fresh Breeze. According to me it was blowing a hooley, straight down the canal. This meant the usual 3-5g jig head was out and on went a 7g jig head with a fire tiger shad type thing. Fishing above the lock was hard work getting buffeted about by the wind. Below the lock there was a bit of shelter and I was soon into that sometimes fought like a perch and then like a pike. Eventually a 64cm jack was in the net. So not a blank.

A couple of casts later and another take which ended with the tail been bitten off. Things went quiet after this. A bit of a wander and a couple of changes of lure and I started to get hits but couldn't contact. A downsized the lure and the hits stopped. Back up a size and they started again? A change to a crank bait didn't make any difference. By now the wind had increased to a Strong Breeze and it was becoming dangerous to stand to close to the edge as the gusts could knock you off your balance. A couple more changes of lure didn't improve things and time was now running out so time to give up.

Quite what was hitting the lures I don't know but I think it'll be worth a return visit in more clement weather.

 

Alarming Pike Fishing

Yesterday I set my alarm for the early hours of Thursday so I could get out before the traffic built up. Remarkably this proved to be rather useless as I was going fishing on Friday. Even so I woke reasonably early and was able to get to the venue before the worst of the traffic. The trudge up to the first swim I intended to fish wasn't too bad as it had been cold enough to freeze the ground. My intention was to start there and work my way back towards the car.

The tactics to start with were a float fished trout in the slack behind an over hanging tree, and a ledgered half a small mackerel out to the feeder line. An hour later and not much had happened so I was contemplating moving when the drop-back indicator hit the bank stick. Nothing big but it felt like a pike. Everything came to a halt and I was proper snagged. I left a slack line for five minutes but nothing happened. I couldn't feel a fish so went for a pull and out the rig came replete with a slightly bent hook. After a bit of straightening it was back out with another manky looking bit of mackerel. I'm still using up last year's baits.

As I brewed a cuppa the drop-back went again. A fish around the 60-70cm mark. This time I got it to the net. I was about four foot above the river so wielding a heavy net with a slightly dodgy shoulder wasn't easy. I hadn't seen the trailing hook which snagged the edge of the net. My faffing about trying to get the fish over the net soon unhooked it and it was away. The next mackerel hard been in a couple of minutes, enough time to get the boiling water into the cup for my cuppa, when I got another run. This time a fish of 65cm was actually landed. I'm assuming the photos of it are among the four that are corrupted on the SD card. Despite their size they'd put up a good struggle zooming about like mad things.

I settled back with my cuppa and a biccy. I'd no sooner finished it than the float moved away. This was something considerably heavier. After hauling it out from under the tree it headed straight for the snag. Turning it had it heading back towards the overhanging tree. Side to side it went three or four times before giving up. At 110cm and 18lb 14oz it was quite a weight to lift up the bank. Out went another trout. Not long after the drop-back dropped back and another feisty little jack of 75 cm was kept out of the snag and into the net.

I wondered whether to stay or move. You can only push your luck so far in one swim. A tip rattle on the ledger rod persuaded me stay. It then rattled again but I failed to contact with any thing. The slightly chewed mackerel was slung out again. I'd just got the water in my Mac 'n' Cheese when the float moved away. Something heavy but dogged was on the end. While it made no fast runs it took some time to get it up out of ten foot of water. At 108cm, 2cm shorter than the earlier biggy it weighed over 5lb less at exactly 13lb. By the time I'd dealt with it my Mac 'n' Cheese was ready. That had been my last trout so a rather old looking piece of lamprey was the next bait used.

The pike gave me time to eat my lunch and have a cuppa before the float bobbed about. All I contacted was a sunken branch. After tossing the bait back out I didn't have another run for about 45 minutes. As I started to gather things up to move another swim the drop-back dropped again and a somewhat larger jack of 87cm and 8lb 14oz soon graced the net. It was one of those that puts up more of a fight on the bank. As this was the last mackerel I put the other half of the lamprey on. It was another hour before I got my next run. This time on the float. A real loony of a fish that was all over the place both in and out of the water. At 70cm it had certainly been entertaining, and I still had my bait. While I had my afternoon tea I had a dropped run on both rods

I decided to sit it out in that swim but got no more runs. The walk back to the car was a bit trick as the slippy mud had now thawed out and made the return journey hard work. Six fish landed, two lost and a few dropped runs made the slippy trudge worth it. Quite why there were so many jack two thirds of the way across the river I've no idea. Maybe gathering ready for spawning?