4 Stillwaters 4 Targets 1 Week

 Well it's the stillwater season if there is such a thing so rather than wait for things to warm up I've decided to have a crack at a few ponds and the canal, as ever my targets were modest but a little different this time trying to get the following fish.

• Quality roach 
• Any tench of any size
• A chub from the canal
• A big perch
• 
  

1. Roach on the club pond 

It was off the club pond first up on Saturday, the weather was fairly warm to start with but I was glad to keep the winter wear on as the day got colder. The fishing was sporadic although I got enough bites to have a good day.  Fishing an antenna float which took a couple of no1's most the bites were on the drop with dead maggots working well.

I wanted roach and I got them and good ones too, only a couple of bream interlopers broke the roach monopoly but I wasn't worried, these roach were full of early season strength and vigour and were pushing a pound, there's naturally one that's bigger and although I didn't weigh it I know it passed the pound mark by a few ounces, target achieved, quality roach ticked off.

2. Early Season Tench

A couple of days later I'm down the little tench pond even if I suspected it's a touch early there's still a chance right?  Wrong, the tench didn't play ball at all. I stuck at it for a few hours but even the huge hordes of rudd and roach were finicky. I managed sporadic bursts of roach with a few rudd and skimmers so it wasn't a disaster,.

I had also fed my favourite perch swim on the carp pool next door, a masterstroke of pre planning and pre baiting. So in the afternoon I'm off round there only to find the one angler in the whole area sat in it. I had to laugh at that as I knew that was a possibility. 

I did manage a carp in another spot off the top on dead maggots which was a laugh, despite being cloudy and fairly chilly by now many of the carp could be seen in the upper layers. Dead maggots are fairly buoyant, a float set very shallow and a boil on the surface was the precursor to a good bend in the rod, a small carp of around 3lb was more than welcome. 

I returned to the tench pool but could barely buy a bite now, it was getting colder and a bit bitter so I called it a day, two other anglers there hadn't caught any either but It was a day out nonetheless and a bit of fun.

3. Chasing Chub Down The Canal

Calling the canal at this time of year a stillwater is pushing it a bit, as you can see it was flowing rather well. I was convinced I would find some chub as being local I have decent knowledge of where they are. Ok I'm being a smarty pants, I knew where they were as I saw them the day before whilst walking down the cut. This time I was walking down with the gear and I soon clocked them again in a slightly different area accompanied by some bream also on the surface.

Setting up along the bank a bit as not to disturb the shoal of chub seemed to take an age, naturally they drifted right in front of me, I fed some maggots discreetly so as not to spook them although some did, others however took a few offerings instantly so confidence grew.

However the towpath got busy and the chub got cagey, some fish passed through every now and then looking spooked and the shoal seemed to split, the bream tempted a few casts but they were not interested in maggots then an early boat came through which wasn't ideal. I knew these chub move and sure enough they were gone from the area completely.

It took a bit of walking back and forth to relocate the shoal and they had moved quite a way down the cut, I repeated the process of feeding and soon get a response as my shallow waggler gets ripped under, I battle it to the middle away from snags yet it somehow finds something solid down the track. All manner of objects get thrown in here and the line is grating horribly on one of them, fish and I part company, it wasn't a good start but I knew it was one of those things.

Consoled by the fact I had done nothing wrong I quickly recast only to have the first 'Little old Lady' encounter of the day, she was being walked by her dog Betty. Pleasant though she was she managed to stand right behind me, blocking cyclists and the like on an ever busying towpath, her dog did whatever it wanted and in the process those chub moved out of sight, for good.

With the old lady still standing there as Betty the dog decided to do a sit down protest I opted to move to another chub spot I know. By now the canal had coloured up with the boats so I cast to a known area after a bit of loose feeding. The float goes under and I was conscious of this swim being even more snaggy, this time I was more fortunate and the chub target was achieved.

I then lost another, the hook bent slightly, a losing ratio of 2 to 1 was not good so with no further bites off I went to do some traditional wag n mag fishing for roach.

By now I was regretting walking from my house in chest waders* and heavy jacket, the sun was out, It was cooking and so was I. Worse still I couldn't get a bite which was weird, all the silt was floating up as it was so warm, at times there was even a weird smell, this gave the canal a spring time appearance, but that floating silt always makes things feel a bit strange. The fish were in a funny spring mood so I went back to the chub swim hoping for one more.

* Chest waders are a good hack when fishing somewhere busy, overlooked with no bushes etc, with the aid of an old bottle with a wide neck you can well you, know go without being seen so to speak. Just don't muddle it up with your drinking bottle.

So I'm back in the chub swim in wall to wall sun and the jacket is off as it's now t-shirt weather, a couple of bleak feed on the drop but still no roach or perch, then another chub obliges to take the tally to a more respectable ratio, a beautiful canal chub lay before me gloriously in the sun.

On another day I would have had 10lb of chub so all in all a pretty decent day out and mission achieved to get a couple. If anything it was too warm down the canal, how weird does that sound? As I walked off a kingfisher zoomed under a graffiti adorned bridge and I made my way home.

4. A Mix Back At The Pond

I wanted some more of that roach action whilst at the same time knowing there was as good a chance of a tench or big perch here as anywhere. Trying a different spot to the weekend I managed to pick an area where three herons were all battling each other in a wonderful display of low flying at close quarters, here one perched on the bridge next to my swim.

The fishing started slow which wasn't surprising given the aeronautics which was at a rod length at times, I had to look up in awe each time one of these prehistoric looking birds glided by so close, so it was only when they calmed down that the fishing got going.

By feeding quite a bit (certainly compared to others) I got the fish feeding both on the drop and on the deck. The roach fishing once again was quality with around 3 fish to a pound on average but none quite the size of the fish I had earlier in the week. There was more variety in this spot though as the first brown goldfish of the year put in an appearance, a lovely fish which was ever so strong.

During a spell where the sun came out two rather large swans came over to make things hard, However a strange drinking routine preceded a bit of jiggy jiggy before they made the heart shape with their necks, I marvelled at this whilst at the same time reaching for the camera, too late of course, but the way their spray lit up in the sun, the sheer white of these birds and the ballet of their courtship will live long in the memory. It was spring and what a show.

A few bream snotted up the line like they do, like most of the roach all caught on the drop, this small hybrid was all covered in tubercles, also getting ready for some action, hybrids are not supposed to breed well but this one will give it a good go I reckon.

A couple of rudd appeared, almost as if to show these bream and roach how on the drop feeding is done, little bars of gold on a spring day.

By now the fish were fizzing on the bottom and my bait was there make no mistake. I suspected they were good roach as they can cause small patches of pin prick bubbles and this was proved as many more followed, although I was also starting to pick up more perch, like little balls they were as so fat. I hoped for a larger one or a tench but they didn't show.

It was a great day though, I watched the other seven anglers most of whom arrived after and left before me, they got just 10 fish between them and most were using the same bait as me, by feeding each cast I was on six times as much by the time I had run out of maggots, getting through the best part of a pint, 46 quality roach, 10 perch, 5 bream plus a couple of rudd and goldfish. The others hardly fed anything, why?

No tench or big perch but it'll do. Over the four trips I had 8 species and well over 100 fish in total, two targets achieved and it was nice to get some chub and such fine roach fishing. What was noticeable was how much they were taking on the drop and how on a variety of waters the larger fish were in the upper layers even on cloudy days. 

The wildlife on show was fantastic and the fishing was pretty decent on the whole, there's no wonder we as anglers can spend endless hours by a bit of water, setting little targets often reveals much larger rewards and they are really the true prizes on offer on days like these.

River Severn March 2024

 So it was time again for another winter day trip up the Severn hoping to replicate the success of February last year, a few chub would do me nicely although I knew It would be much harder. A fairly strong easterly was already in place and heavy showers forecast later meant that it could be 'one of those days' but hey I was willing to find out.

The water was fining down but still pushing through at 1.1m on the local gauge, almost twice what you would call perfect for trotting but fishable as far as I was concerned, plus a decent colour.

Naturally the spot where I did well at last year was taken but also the two little holes below it, plus most of the other good spots for that matter, both banks had plenty of anglers on them making the most of the last weekend of the season. I soldiered on as the steam train whistled along the opposite bank, while sheep and their lambs greeted me with a chorus of bleats as I walked through sodden fields. It was already worth the long drive for there was far worse places to be right then.

The first swim available was one that offered more boil than flow and wasn't working for me after half an hour so I moved between two trees in a tiny spot that was a bit of a suicide swim. Here I had two waterlogged bushes either side and a precarious short trot close in. It looked perfect for chub but whether I'd get one in would be another matter, it was a test however that I was about to take.

So my stick finally goes under with an unmissable bite and it all goes solid, the head shakes and it's game on, It's not bottom after all and clearly a chub. Trying to tire it in the flow without either bush coming into play was more fortune than skill, this chub would have owned me in similar confines on a tiny stream but on larger rivers they are easier to get in, don't ask me why. So after doing the hard bit of coaxing, the bullying came into play as it finally saw snags to head for, it had a go at the upstream one but my nerve held as well as my fine line and a good chub between 4-5lb was netted. 

You don't want to lose that first fish, it may be the only one plus I knew the float would ping off and find one of those bushes causing double the pain, but it didn't and now everything was just perfect, I didn't care if it would be the only fish of the day or one of many like this time of year can offer. The trip was justified, the scenery gorgeous and the bad weather was just about holding off. 

Here's my little swim, one where I've done well in the summer for barbel but it's sure getting smaller each year, the photo doesn't do it justice and I fear it will soon be overgrown completely.

I persisted here for more chub given that a wander would see more anglers than swims but nothing else showed. Plenty of creatures great and small came to see me, from a whole variety of birds to curious playful lambs, this big old bee looked like it had woken up a touch early, sitting all lazy on a twig. I wondered if I would be sitting all lazy in a good spot If I had done similar this morning.

I stopped for lunch and heard the steam train coming back, after a couple of diesels there's no mistaking that chug and whistle although it seems to echo down the valley for miles. I sat there munching on my lunch with the camera ready hoping the engine would be facing the right way, as they never look right the other way round. I wasn't disappointed, I waved back at the people on the train like I sometimes do when having a fun day not realising an angler was walking back on the far bank, In hindsight I probably shouldn't have shouted Choo Choo! 

Getting back to the fishing for another serious bit of trotting saw me bump a really good bite, no excuses and a bit annoying as bites for some reason were once in a blue moon. I had to wait an age before the float dipped again, this time the first dace of the day was swung to hand.

It was super slow so I had to have a wander up and down, stretch the legs and see what's going down, trying a few iffy looking swims along the way. As ever the anglers I did converse with were more than friendly, offering insight to what wasn't being caught today so I was in good company in struggling. I had a good laugh with one local who's spirit was indefatigable despite blanking, jokingly asking him If he'd seen my twin brother go by after walking back past him for the third time.

The farmer came to feed the sheep behind me, the noise a hundred or so sheep make when it's feeding time is quite a rumble, as I walked along I watched all the ewes and lambs running after the tractor drowning out it's engine noise with ease, they are much louder than the diesel but not as loud as the steam train I concluded.

I managed a couple more dace and a few minnow on my wanders but It was a case of one bite in a less than ideal swim then nothing, it was a strange old day for sure, there were a lot of two rod anglers with heavy leads but I doubt if fish like the dace were tackle shy, I still managed a nice one though.

So that was more or less it for the day and perhaps the season, I'd fished it hard and by now had enough to not stay until dark, with the only other spots open to the wind and a long drive ahead it was time to go home. My early chub had saved they day and I was right to play it like a demon and delight in the result at the time.  I think I could have picked around 30 rivers where I would have done better in such conditions, I probably crossed many but often it's that adventure rather than the achievement that keep you coming back for more.

Dace Chase Challenge 2024

 Inspired by chats about dace I decided to set myself a fun challenge of catching dace from 4 rivers this February regardless of conditions, the target I set was 100, I wanted it to be fun and guessing a target to set was hard, two of the rivers I knew well were where 20-30 fish would still be a decent day, whereas one river I hadn't fished for a decade and another I had never fished in winter, so 100 it was, would that be too high or too low? 25 dace per trip? 

Sounds like it would be good fun finding out.

The rivers in question were the Lea, Gade, Stort and Beane, all small local rivers in Hertfordshire, I figured I'll start on the former as the first pic is often the thumbnail, how nice it would be to get a tonker dace for the cover pic I thought whilst also knowing huge numbers wouldn't come easy there.

River Lea

So in my infinite wisdom I turn up, not just at a high river (which would be a theme for this quest) but also one of the harder stretches. Suffice to say the first few hours turned from a Dace Chase to a 'lets get a bite from anything' expedition. 

A bit of relocation saw me finally arrive where I knew I'd get bites, it was and still is what me and Dad call The Dace swim, a typical dace spot where a channelled river flies through all shallow and boily, it's not fished much as it's so shallow but I always like fishing here. So it was that the float went under straight away followed by that familiar twist and turn through the boil. I was happy not just to be having bites but also getting a few nice looking fish for that cover shot first up after a morning of blanking, game on.

I had a decent mix of fish in the remaining two hours I had left of light, however the dominant species I am pleased to say was actually gudgeon, this was great to see and I must have had two dozen of the little blighters, maybe a gudgeon quest would be cool next time.

As for the target it was a total of  just 11 dace but it'll do.

Behind the ball on total but some good looking fish for sure so things were going ok.

River Stort

Two summer fishing trips on a slow and stagnant trickle was all the knowledge I had to garner for this river so imagine my delight at seeing a river bombing through all coloured and pacey. Was it too high? Perhaps but the colour looked good at around a foot of visibility so I was confident, I had caught good dace previously here so lets crack on..

Having seen little signs of fishing previously I was surprised to see two floats in the tree where I started, a deep eddy offering both fast and slow water. I retrieved one but the other drifted downstream on my failed attempt at gathering, both were rather robust floats and quite clunky for such a stream, I do feel people fish far to heavy on these little rivers but that's another story, besides I needed to get some dace.

Fantastic, I settled down to trot a 4xno4 stick and It was a fish a chuck from the off, running my float through the boils that separated the slack from the flow, it was safe to say the river was sock on, fitting it was too that a nice dace was swung to hand first cast. Even two dogs in the water chasing balls didn't slow things although when the dopey owner did it a second time on returning my patience was wearing thin. I was in a doggy paddling zone so to speak so expected it and didn't want any confrontation to ruin things, although deep down I was thinking "Don't you know I am on the 2024 Dace Chase Challenge you ruffian!"  The chap was neither a ruffian nor aware of such an inaugural quest so I left him and his two soppy labradors to it, wondering who the most intelligent out of the four of us is, I am still undecided*

* My money is on the floppy eared one who didn't get the ball, not only did it use less energy it also get's free meals, doesn't pay taxes and annoys both the owner and the angler.

I was now building a good total and a really nice mix of species, after all a bycatch when dace fishing is more than welcome, something I will dwell on later on even if I was fixated on those silver darts. The Stort also has some chunky dace and a good stamp of fish were there providing bites on a unseasonably warm winter's day.

The fish kept coming as I moved spots after lunch and the chat on the banks was nice too, I was in a busy park after all. One little old lady stopped and asked "Are there any fish in there?" A common question but one I am always surprised they ask especially when they add the caveat they've never seen any despite walking here regularly. I'm not sure she believed me when I told her I was on a total of 50 fish at the time. Another guy did the routine of standing behind me not saying anything, that's always fun isn't it! We eventually had a pleasant exchange and he knew his fishing, turns out he was just clocking what I was catching after all, in this new swim, a shallow fast affair that was one a chuck too. It was so much fun to fish here even if I was perched precariously on a muddy sloping bank, how I didn't wrap around the trees I was pinging with my rod tip I'll never know although I came close a few times mind.

Eventually my shallow swim was fished out as I knew it would be but not after a whole heap of fun, variety and of course dace. On I went to many spots that were more miss than hit to be fair, but that's roving and I sure got my steps in. Another brief exchange with a passer by was a good one, at the time I was fishing in a turbulent weir scooping out a chub, when above the din of the rushing water the passer by asked "Is that a tench?" I almost fell in, whilst I like a challenge.... Winter Tench Fishing in Flooded Weirpools, would be too much I concluded.

It was a great fun trip, a whole mix of species and what's more a total of 46 dace added and I was bang on target with 57 dace in total.

River Beane

After an aborted trip where my parking location was not reassuring and the skies opened up for a day of yet more rain, I arrived at the little River Beane a few days later to find a river looking very coloured indeed, much like the Stort trip before I had found a much better parking spot and was quite pleased with myself as I wondered along the banks, even if I doubted I would catch today at least I had got here.

It had been a decade since last fishing here but I remembered a good spot, those memories never fade and so I walked on and set up by the weir. 

The water looked pretty busy mind, a few inches of visibility was coupled with twenty minutes of the float going under with anything but fish, but that's winter weir pool fishing for you, all snags and boils, then a small minnow succumbed, usually the bane of the maggot angler, this time it gave me a renewed hope, if a miniscule minnow can see a moving bait so can a dace, so with that faint crumb of incentive I ploughed on once more.

After a couple more barren swims of increasing dejection I stopped at a sweeping bend, it looked great but by now pessimism was taking over with a capital P, the water was coloured and high, however I tried to convince myself I had caught in worse. Then the float went under with the familiarity of scraping bottom, then again and again, but you have to strike it's instinctive, then finally the wriggle of a small fish saw my enthusiasm going to childhood levels, it felt too large for a minnow. That's what it's all about, a 4oz dace making a seasoned angler a champion of the world, long may these humble moments continue I thought, blank avoided, dace caught, one more to the total and where there's one.....

Buoyed by a lone fish I dug out the stool although at the time I thought this maybe a touch premature, I've probably made this mistake a hundred times but I did need a sit down after all the walking. I needn't have worried though as it was a dace a chuck with the odd roach and minnow to remind me of how things started. The dace here were a nice mix of sizes, more so than the previous rivers, nothing huge but plenty of next generation fish, all taking the bait like it was hitting bottom. I even thought I had lost a grayling just before lifting it out, my mind playing tricks I concluded. I changed to a lighter float thus negating the lost fish in the shallow swim and so a dozen more dace followed, a nice mix of sizes, and ever so welcome.

The action kept coming, by now my little float was getting ripped under with unmissable bites, then I saw another grayling in my mind, twisting and turning with a dorsal that's too big for a dace, a snout too pointy, suddenly the net is in play as I dare not lose that figment of my imagination coming to life, so it was a little grayling all silver and glorious lay before me, I know it's not the target quarry but surprises like these are the El Dorado of the angler who fishes for anything. Right then I'd struck gold, I journey two hours to get grayling albeit larger so if they are on your doorstep forgive me, as to get one on mine, no matter how small feels pretty special.

Yet more dace (and another grayling) followed so I was not just ahead of the quest target but had smashed it, even so I had to explore further and stretch the legs. I fished another bend and once again being in a busy park saw a nice chat with a dad and his two little ones, "Tell me when the float goes under" I told them as I caught yet more dace, the two kids went off asking their dad if they could go fishing, maybe next summer they'll be down here with a net or even a rod when they are older, lets hope the river still has those fish.

I ended with a whopping total of 105 dace today and a total of 162 dace overall, fantastic! So I'd done it with just 3 rivers and that is why the Gade is on the backburner, I wasn't going to move the goalposts if I struggled so why do it with success. 100 was the target and 162 achieved. Moreover it was a whole lot of fun and an mighty fine excuse to get out.

As for that bycatch, I am of the theory if you can catch dace well you can get anything and so I did get a fantastic mix for sure, 219 fish not including minnow of course with 9 different species** and some good specimens as well, great bankside chat, wonderful wildlife and thrusting, turbulent high rivers I couldn't have asked for more, here's some variety from the trips....

**The species I caught the least of was...perch (1), it's a funny old game sometimes isn't it?

Not sure what the next challenge will be but this was such a simple one yet so much fun.

Did it exceed expectations? - Hell yeah, as adventures in the commuter belt go, I was in my own little world. 

Was it easy? - I guess so but that's hindsight, at times I was thinking the opposite, maybe next year it will be frosty, low and harder or perhaps I'll be chasing gudgeon, I reckon those dace will still play though.

Was it a challenge? Well getting the dace in numbers was, given that many say they are in decline, here in the land of Herts they are doing ok, I know the Gade was my fall back crutch and that old girl would have seen me right too, so on the whole it wasn't about me or numbers but about a fish that still continues to shine....

 The Dace.

Back Fishing Again

 I hadn't been fishing since early November last year, all work and no play had made Rob a dull boy indeed. There are embroidery blogs that have seen more action than this one so I thought darn it, lets go fishing.

En route I pondered what it was I had forgotten knowing there was likely to be something, I was in no rush after all as the pond was frozen only two days prior. I arrived late morning and saw an empty car park, the pond was all mine, a foul wind blew albeit in a favourable direction but it still felt mighty cold as I set up in what I optimistically call The Perch Swim.

A good perch would do nicely but so would anything else today, It was just a trip to wet a line as the old saying goes. There was no tackle omitted which was a result, I felt just warm enough tucked out of the worst of the wind behind the platform, I then lowered my little pole float down in the margins, it's tip barely visible through the chop, fishing once more, at last.

A couple of robins wasted no time joining me, landing on the platform edge where my rod was overhanging and also on the bush I was trying to fish under, naturally I gave them a good feed and almost missed a bite first cast. A bream was on which seemed surprising, more of a surprise was how it turned into an f1 on the surface, slowly drifting about all lackadaisical, a lovely looking fish though.

I then had my target perch if not the target size, a tiny one showing they were feeding but hinting the larger ones were elsewhere, then I failed to get a bite for the next hour.

Taking a break from action that was once again on a par with the embroidery blog (other blogs are available) I wandered over to the other bank, just to sit in the sun with my coffee. There was a tiny area where the wind was slightly less and the sun heated up a couple of slabs, I sat here and for a moment felt lazy like that carp as the sun reflected in my face, then I stared at my sheltered yet shady swim.  I poured the coffee smug that I hadn't forgotten anything on this trip before almost spitting it out - No sugar!  I had been moaning a bit lately about too much sugar in food and here I am missing it, I didn't feel bitter even if my drink did. That'll teach me.

After the break the fishing was still hard, changing depth and trying different areas, the bottom was sloping where I was fishing but bites were in the same spot, one so small I must have only had an inch either side to get it right, I've had this before here, everywhere else seems to yield nothing in this swim, no more sugar jokes are needed but it is a sweet spot for sure. Carp were the culprits and once again they just drifted about in a daze before netting, must have been the ice melt I thought, either that or they were forming a bream tribute band - Primal Bream is the best I can muster but you should see the puns on the embroidery blog, they'll have you in stitches.

I was just thinking how I could have landed these fish in on 1lb bottom when the float dashed under and everything went solid, five minutes elapsed where I couldn't even see the fish I was playing, this one wasn't messing about and now I was under gunned with my 3lb line and fine size 18, that's fishing for you. I managed to net it first time and a nice mirror lay before me, with a long barbel like snout it was no wonder it kept low so well. 

The carp and perch that followed were hard earned and the last hour was dead, the wind was biting but the fish no longer were, which was a cue to pack up. With 6 carp and 2 perch for well over 20lb I couldn't grumble. The car which had been sitting in the sun showed 12c on the temperature gauge, I almost swore when I saw that as I wasn't feeling it. It does however indicate after this cold snap that spring is slowly on it's way and hopefully so too are more fishing trips.

A kingfisher flew by after signalling with it's familiar call whist a crow and a jay in the trees were more raucous in their conversation as I left, the heron which seemed to spend more time walking about approached on the low sunlit bank as I turned the motor around. Oh how I've missed this I thought, sometimes you don't realize you've lost something until you do it once more, the feeling then is one worth having, of that I have no doubt.

I Can't Stay Still on The Moving River

 After all the rains I knew one of my local rivers wouldn't be too high and hoped it would be as high as possible, sounds weird with a lot of waters elsewhere in the country over their banks but these little rivers within the M25 seem to only fish well when they have some flow, for that they need a lot of rain to get moving properly, so I got myself moving to fish the little River Gade as the overnight rains eased midmorning.

The river was running well with little bit of colour but was still shallow as ever, with the average depth between 1-2 ft I set up a small dibber, not the usual float of choice for river fishing but these little things are fun with light line in shallow water.

One no1 shot was all that was needed where I set up but due to the wide tip of the float I could always change to a slightly heavier stick of needed, however these little floats ride the current fairly well, probably a bit pricy compared to a conventional stick but hey it's the Gade, if I snag anything I'll just wade in and retrieve it.

My first spot was in some woods above a fallen tree, anywhere where you can't quite see bottom can be ok so this natural dam made the water back up a little above it offering a small area which could hold fish. Less natural were the many plastic bottles and footballs caught up against it though.

I was into fish straight away which was good, first up was a nice dace which in all reality is the target species here, fishing only a foot deep under a fallen willow was really enjoyable, even more so when I hooked a decent chub, gone are the days when you would get half a dozen from each spot here, nowadays to get just one is a small victory, also when I say decent it was around a pound but it's all relative.

I then worked the float a little deeper each cast until getting to a good two feet before dragging bottom, holding back and picking up some half decent roach which made a change. Despite the colour in the water they had a nice blue sheen to their backs.

As the sun came out its reflection danced on the overhanging branches I was trying to avoid with my rod tip, I was also conscious of not falling in the mud, here's my set up, having a separate stool is so handy in these conditions.

After an hour it was time to move, bites dried up and the water started to clear a touch revealing areas of bottom and a lot of snags I avoided by holding back my little float, I had a good start with nice roach, dace and chub in a swim that's usually a few inches deep.

Next spot was another fallen tree jobby, instantly I was into dace and small chub and it looked like I could catch a fair few here as well, however it was one of those areas where you just feel uneasy, surrounded by bushes which were full of beer cans and the like. Next thing I know there's a youth right behind me mumbling something and looking at my gear, he and a girl sat on a stump in the bushes behind me despite it being wet. It was time to rove on once more.

Working my way upstream I chatted to some workers who were rebuilding the banks to try to stop dogs going in as their flea treatment kills all the aquatic life, Fipronil is it's name and it's wiping out stretches of rivers everywhere. I wished them luck in preventing dogs going into the water in the busiest park in Watford.

I also saw a few new EA signs, trouble is the print was so small you couldn't read them, this one was on the widest part of the river. I didn't fish here as I had to wade into the swim just to read what it said, it just stated that you need a rod licence, it should also have had a postscript 'By the way you have just ruined your swim lol'

Further upstream I find a lot of the river fenced off, regenerating the wetland area was the signage for this one, which makes you worry if that will come with a hide or visitor's centre. It was an area so wild and peaceful it seemed a perfect environment for nature but did have homeless people living in it last time so who knows what that the future holds. I stopped and had lunch opposite.

I then found a lovely spot to wet a line once more, a beautiful narrow glide that was between two sets of high rushes. Wading downstream to a spot where nobody knew I was there, it could have been a carrier for a grayling filled chalk stream somewhere in the middle of nowhere, were it not for the car park in the distance, or all the people on the path behind or the fact that there's no grayling in here, still I can imagine.

It was a cracking looking run with some lush green weed and full of scale perfect dace, by now the river's colour was clearing further and each fish looked massive as they spun and flashed down the bottom of the shallow swim, trying to keep the fish off the surface, a succession of long lean dace were bought up through the unusually fast current.

Typical Gade dace with no weight to them at all, although I swear the ones I got later had more of a belly, feasting themselves on my maggots no doubt, I hoped for a chub or even a roach in this small dace filled hole but only a couple of gudgeon provided the only variety before it became all minnow, which is always a sign to move on.

I walked up to the top of the stretch and retrieved a float from a swim, this got added to the spinner I found earlier, not that I'll ever use either but it's nice to tidy things up. That was it for the day, after packing up I decided to go the direct way back down to the car along the canal, here some of the boaters had made a right mess turning parts of the woods behind into a dumping ground, far too much for anyone to tidy up. The walk took me a whopping 35 minutes somehow along a canal that looked cold and lifeless, the river with all its fipronil coated dogs and weed smoking youth would have been more preferable. 

I seemed to do more walking than fishing at times but in three hours I had a decent return of 19 dace, 8 roach, a couple of chub, gudgeon and bleak. I kept on the move and the river for once was moving well too.

Perch Save The Day on The Avon

 The day didn't start too well upon finding a dead cat outside my house, was it an omen? Perhaps a portent of bad luck to come? Well it wasn't lucky for the cat nor the poor owner who I contacted via a local facebook page. With the unfortunate kitty collected I made a belated journey to the Warwickshire Avon mid morning as I still had to get out.

My plan was to fish the Warwickshire Avon near a town called Bidford, named due to the ancient custom of old biddies fording the river, this only happens this time of year on market days or when the road bridge has too much traffic. It turns out that zip up thermal slippers have really good purchase on slippery stones and gravel much like cleated soles on waders. That's why they wear them.

I went to a stretch I had only once fished before, driving down the most rutted lane I had ever been down. I was only able to go at walking pace picking a line that weaved around the larger looking ruts, cringing at every scrape of the front sill, shuddering at every grind of the exhaust and hoping those holes filled with water weren't of a depth akin to that scene in The Vicar of Dibley, the lane was behind a church after all. Unsurprisingly my little car was the only vehicle down this dead end lane all day.

It was back to what I call normal fishing after a summer of fishing bread for a whole host of species, it was back to trotting maggot under a stick. I did briefly try trotting pellet in a weir where access involved getting narrowly over a barbed wire fence, hoping not to get my new waders (or anything more valuable) caught up in the process, then climbing over lock gates, before navigating a narrow towpath. I got no bites fishing there but plenty of stings from the nettles.

So moving downstream to do some trotting maggot I was conscious of finding a relatively bleak free zone but failing in the first couple of spots as the silver hordes hammered the bait instantly. The river was lower and much clearer than I expected and many swims were unfishable due to the combination of rush growth and poorly maintained platforms that were either broken or rotted, so I settled on a slower spot that had no obvious bleak swirls and a safe place to sit.

Of course this swim had to be the windiest and it was downstream and across, the wind wasn't that cold or really that strong but enough for a slight ripple, worse thing however was it lined up every single leaf on my side of the bank, these seemed to be all willow leaves which come complete with a little hook on each one designed to catch any line that is mended in a downstream wind.

Despite the far from ideal wind I managed a few small fish to keep me occupied, an even mix of roach, perch and dace, with the odd bleak and chublet there to frustrate. The sun dipped in and out and when it went in things got quite bitter, the leaves catching the line seemed to be even more frustrating and after a while my thoughts turned to my car being the only one there, not to mention the two hour trip home.

As the afternoon wore on I was really close to packing up when I hit into a better fish, which I wasn't expecting, everything went solid and whilst I hadn't seen it I knew it was a perch, I could just tell, however it came off which was a shame as it felt rather decent. Like the week before I didn't get too down about losing a good fish, it gave me positive vibes that I had found a decent spot and confirmed that these Avon perch do like the margins.

Concentrating fully on the margin attack was one I should have tried earlier. Now the wind was my friend as by gently paying out some slack it did the job of laying my float perfectly behind a clump of weeds I had caught a few times on the bottom but couldn't quite see, in the map of the mind this was the place to get a bait trotting through. I imagined there being more large perch sitting in this ambush spot and that they hadn't all scarpered when I hooked the first one, my imagination and persistence was about to pay off.

So it happens again, something solid is on once more although this time I am ready, more stick is given even though my small hook and light line could yield, especially when it's run found a clump of weed. I flicked down the clip on polarioids (you know you are old when you wear these on your glasses but they are brilliant) and could see a good perch spinning and turning in the clear water a good six feet below. A wonderful sight only bettered by said fish sliding over the waiting landing net.

This fish was long, very narrow and didn't have any belly at all, as a result it was just under 2lb but would have been much, much more if stocky, I'm sure the lost one felt heavier but even so I was really happy with this fish. I just love the way perch pull on light gear and look so large in clear water.

I continued to fish close in, the bites I did get were typical of perch, with the float going under slightly looking like it was dragging bottom. Having watched perch feed many times it's a case of them taking a bait just as it just touches the deck, how the large ones suck in the maggot and hardly move a float that's dotted down to the tip is another question, but they do it so well.

Another perch followed with a really pronounced hump but was small in comparison at around a pound, what was noticeable was how many maggots this one spat out as I netted it, they sprayed everywhere though the mesh, showing this fish was feeding well for quite a while but I wasn't good enough to catch it, either that or it had been drawn into the swim recently and stuffed it's face, who knows? I guess it really did have the hump.

I had managed to salvage a decent day with a few better fish at the end, the car was still sitting there all lonesome down the lane and come to think of it I only saw two other people all day (on the opposite bank) The two meadows this side were all mine aside from the cackling of the odd pheasant and the chime of the kingfishers as they passed through.

The walk back signalled the approach of Autumn, the willows that hadn't dropped their leaves around my float all day were showing hints of yellow, seemingly more colour than they had earlier in the day. The hazy sun that tried desperately to negate the wind was shining low through the start of these Autumn hues, as I started my journey home.

South Coast Adventures Part 3 - The Docks

 After getting three mullet already I just had to have a dabble down the docks on the way home even if once again it was windy and not in a favourable direction. The sort of wind I would baulk at were I considering a day trip here, however all I wanted for today was to get a few small fish, if anything bigger turned up that would just be a bonus. More than anything I just hoped the docks would be alive with small fish and continue to be a great nursery for the future.

On arrival it was it's usual smelly self, the tang of sewage can often hit the nasal passages in certain areas here, some suggest it's boats being naughty with their disposal of waste whereas others think there is a hidden outlet pipe. Either way it may perversely do the fish a favour as you wouldn't want to eat something from here, although some do.

The spot I thought of  trying initially had a mullet angler out on the cage feeder who was not getting any bites so I figured I would best try the other end. So I set up in an area I call Dirty Corner - I am really selling this place aren't I? It's basically a little bay where the wind deposits all manner of rubbish most of which is from the working docks but also includes carrier bags and plastic bottles. 

Here I fed some bread as per usual and small fish hit it instantly, the wind was down and across so a heavy waggler was the order for today, it didn't take long before it was a bite a chuck, the bites were hard to hit but I still managed five small bass before a coffee break, some people find them a nuisance but I love the little things, like perch on steroids they are a lot of fun and I would try lighter but know I'd get owned if any of their bigger brethren showed up.

It was ever so much work in the chop so I moved further up slightly where I could sit on the bank, being lower negated the wind a touch and I was soon into a rhythm, feeding bread and casting into it as one would do with maggots, knocking out more bass until something felt a little different, I could see in the water it was a deeper looking fish and soon lifted out my first ever sea bream - a small gilt head. I was over the moon with this cracking little fish.

Happily catching more bass I was optimistic of drawing in a larger bass or even some mullet but was already content with the bream, to get a new species really topped the trip, little did I know that was just the start of the fun that the docks had to offer today. It wasn't long before another fish felt a bit different and sure enough I was into a mullet, although there was to be no clutch screaming on this one as you can imagine.

I kind of think I may be the first person to catch these little fish and my coarse approach with relatively light line, small hooks and regular feeding was really working well. It was hard to get through the bass but to get a few other species was awesome. 

I then decided to whack a cast out as far downwind as I could to try to get through the silver hordes of small fish. You know when things are going well when punts like that work so as I hit into something larger I couldn't get to my feet quick enough almost falling in in the process. There were a lot of rocks in play and I was certain it was a better bass, so much so that I commented on it being even stronger than mullet after it's fourth of fifth turn at taking line. I played it hard and it went hard until a mullet came into view, far larger than any I have had from these docks, so much for it being a bass but I would happily take that on a water where I've always somehow contrived to miss out on better mullet, my jinxed venue was beaten with a cracker.

What a great day I was having, there was still time for more small bass and even another little mullet similar to the first, my missus said she thought I would get three today as I had one and then two the previous days, that's not usually how it works and to be fair she knows all too well not to say anything like that out loud, however her prophecy came true even If I would never have had that optimism. Ok two of the mullet today were really tiny but that's even better, I came to get some small fish and that's a great sign for the future.

There was even time for another gilthead bream, once again on the bread, it left me wondering if all the sea species would take bread if there was enough of it going in as feed. Also these gilt heads are not supposed to be this far east so it does go to show nothing is impossible.

By now the sun was out and getting lower, it felt like a lovely evening even if it was still only late afternoon, a second mullet angler stopped by for a chat, also in The Mullet Club and a smashing bloke like the first, he helped I.D. the gilt heads for me which I later got confirmed online. Both of them thought I had done well over the three trips to catch what I had, even if I knew that already it was nice of them to say.

I also had a sand smelt on bread and tried prawn down against the dock wall for a wrasse at the end, falling short on that one as the wind got a bit colder and dark clouds loomed, you can't win them all but I still managed a blenny to take the total to five species for the day.

So that was that for the holiday, three trips in total all of which will live in the memory, even getting some really bad sausage and chips from what used to be a good chippy didn't dampen the spirits, nor did the rainy drive home as the skies opened and the weather turned foul. 

It had previously stayed dry, was quite warm and often sunny over the three days away, sure it was really windy but it blew a few fish my way. I may need to find a better chippy for next time but at least I know where the fish are.