It's My River - By Robin Erithacus Rubecula

This is a guest article written by a friend of mine, also I'm sure a friend of yours without being presumptive, the cheeky little chappy who we have all encountered on the banks, a birds eye view of fishing but not as we know it.

Hello my name's Robin and I like anglering, yes that's not a typo and to practice anglering to it's full potential means an easy meal and a satisfied belly. Come with me on my journey through the foliage where I look for you anglers on a daily basis, some of you may not even notice me doing it but many of you know full well whats going on, for it is an art form and one that I have mastered.

My patch includes some woods and a footpath but most important of all my little river. All twists and turns it has many spots where the angler can angle away to their hearts content. More importantly I can easily angle for them. They are a good bunch here, they rarely leave any litter and on the most part are quiet, unlike my old territory upstream where this is not the case. Maybe because this place has it's own gate it keeps out all the riff raff, all I know is when I hear the first jangle of the padlock being opened my day's anglering is about to start.

So upon hearing the gate close I head off in pursuit although it is a short one given my target quarry is setting up by the car park, why do you humans always do that? Plus how long is this guy taking to set up and does he really need all that stuff? Looks like he's called Drennan as his name tag is over all his gear, there used to be one called Shakespeare too but he hasn't come back - I think he got bard. By the time Drennan got his gear sorted two others have arrived and headed up river, I bet the missus is on to them already yet i'm still blanking here.

My missus is cheeky, she'll often perch on the edge of their bait tub but I don't like doing this as they always seem to reach for a camera when I do, I think it's so they can report me for stealing or something, I don't know, anyway I always land in the bushes next to them and let them know I'm there, if they have maggots they'll often throw them to me, sometimes they'll reach for the camera too but I'm often too quick for them.

We both like maggots, sometimes they come in different colours and the missus once said she saw over a hundred in a tub, I suspect there was many more than that and she would have counted better were she not stuffing her beak so readily. Sometimes you get little pink maggots that almost seem to glow in the dark and we both agree that the mix of colours is fun although we're not sure about those green ones.

So now my anglering has finally succeeded with Drennan by landing on his rod, this made him feed me, it's a cunning trick I learn't watching a damselfly land on the orange floaty thing. I like the anglers who have the orange thing on the end of their rod as the middle bit makes for an ideal perch for me to get maggots, whilst they use maggots to get perch - work that one out.  However many of them now seem to use those little brown pellets that look like rabbit poo, whenever I tell Rabbit that she always laughs.

This leads me to my associates, I don't call them friends as this is my territory, they are welcome though. I'll start with little Jenny Wren - She's a loudmouth who often scares the breast off me when she turns up the volume, where she gets her voice from nobody knows, but she is always helpful when letting us know that Mink The Merciless is on the scene, as we can be off in a Flash! Then there's Harry Heron - Now he's a right case, he reminds me of the pterodactil pictures I had in my Fledgling Book of Dinosaurs as a chick, a cantankerous old so and so when disturbed. Finally there's Kingy, always dashing about showing off his halcyon blue, never seems to hang around for long, I'd love to know where he's off to all the time, that brill blue blur - You try saying that with a beak full of flouro pinkies

I'm now off to do another bit of anglering as Drennan has fallen asleep, where's Jenny Wren when you need her? Two more chaps are chatting downstream so I head there, I hear them discussing whether the river is spelt Lea or Lee, for heavens sake it's only three letters long how hard can it be? (It's Lea in these parts by the way, even Rabbit knows that) I hear one of them is called Robin, ha ha named after me no doubt, now he has to have maggots, although I'm not sure about that camouflage hat, I'll land on his net to find out.

Turns out he's another one of those camera guys so I quickly take a few maggots and I'm of to have nap like Drennan if only to sleep off whatever spices he put in them. No wonder the old fella who is with him pretends he can't hear him. I'll do more anglering when the afternoon fishers come, I'm doing ok today but I once angled 8 in a row which was a new pb for me although I followed through on someone's giant green umbrella I was so bloated, but what a red letter day that was or should I say red maggot day.

After my lunchtime hiatus the river is now busier with many walkers going down the footpath, they always seem to chat when they are moving much like geese. I spot a family fishing and have a gander, it's nice to see the human woman fishing as well, my missus is just as good at anglering as me after all. They have children so this is an easy meal as they love me turning up, the little ones always point at me and give me loads of maggots, I like to think I am training them so that they are easy for us to angle when they are grown up.

On the nearby pond there's a couple more, Fox and Korda who have a green tent and their rods make a beeping noise much like Kingy does when he's had too many minnows. I'm not sure about these guys as they are talking about a Tutti Frutti Snowman Pop Up. I can tell you there's no chance of any snowman popping up today as it's far too warm. Also Rockin' Robin was a much better song than Tutti Frutti as it was about me, what do you expect. I get nothing here as the round balls they are using are much too big for my beak, they do smell nice though.

I'm almost done for the day but there's just time for one last feed off a couple of lads who seem to be spending much of their time on their portable telephones, apparently the younger ones are starting to tweet each other now, I always knew our language would catch on.

It turned out to be a good day, I had plenty of maggots and one worm although wasn't keen on the stuff they called chillied hemp, it made me so high I thought I sounded like The Jackson 5 and tried to pick a fight with Jackdaw, still I'll take anything on, did I mention this is MY territory.

So that's it folks, next time you see me be sure to throw me a handful. It will soon be colder and things will be harder for us. Hopefully Corm O'Rant wont come over this winter and the people will return so we can have another good season of anglering. My territory will be my offspring's one day although they'll have to fight me for it, but rest assured there will be a bustle in the hedgerow next season and I think you'll all know who it is.

River Chess Rickmansworth

 The River Chess is a small stream usually associated with fly fishing but further down it's short course it gets a bit more urban and dare I say it more coarse and it was here I was to wet a line for a few hours last week. After the recent heavy rains I made my way through a waterlogged car park and along a slightly overflowing canal which was looking the perfect colour so I hoped for the same from The Chess as it fishes much better when so, it is however a chalk stream and reminded me that on arrival as I could see down a good three feet.

The river did have a slight tinge of colour and the three feet I could see down was in the only spot it goes that deep, so I set up here as usual deciding to sit on the bank on my net bag to keep a low profile. However there was a steady run of leaves down the middle which was owning my little stick float, so much so that I found it unfishable, my line catching on the endless run of  rusty sycamore leaves as they seemed to be having a conference, going round in the eddy and then back again to greet my float each time. I decided to move but just as I was about to get up something large swam right under my feet heading upstream, sitting low to the water has it's merits so I carefully got up and tried the spot above.

Chasing big fish up a little river isn't a guarantee of success so I was happy to run a float through for anything, so a nice roach was the first fish of the day. Leaves weren't a problem in the new swim but it was oh so shallow, my float was on the hooklength and I felt many of the bites were bottom, it was a lot faster here but I am used to shallow rivers so having learnt to fish on the nearby Gade so I was enjoying this little tree lined run, I picked up a small chub and another roach before losing sight of my float and an instinctive strike indicated something solid.

There can't be a better feeling in fishing than hitting the bottom only to feel the bottom shake it's head and then slowly move upstream and so it dawned on me that I could be aquainted with the fish that I saw a few minutes earlier. Whatever It was now headed downstream and spun on the surface, a flash of bronze in the dark shade of the trees showed It was a good bream and it used it's deep body to good effect in the current, something river bream do so well. I gradually battled it upstream through the flow and into the net where it snapped me just after I landed it, fighting till the end like an urban brawler.

Now I like bream, back in the day as kids they were the target fish, even on the little rivers, so I was happy with this one. As I returned it gently back to the water the sun came out and lit up the river in small spots like a torchlight through the autumn canopy. The bottom was suddenly revealed showing an array of snaggy branches, leaves and the odd bit rubbish and I wondered how the hell I caught anything there never mind a fish that was almost as deep as the swim.

With the sun now out I sat in the mottled woods having a coffee reflecting on a good start to the day as the first dog walker went past, I only saw three all day and it was so peaceful aside from the constant drone of the roads and the police helicopter in the distance reminding me of my urban surroundings. A kingfisher beeped as it zoomed by as if to let me know it is coming through and I too decided to carry on my journey as there were other swims to fish, I had this short stretch to myself so it would be rude not to fish all of them after all.

Trying spots here and there was fun as was getting some nice looking roach and dace in each one, throw in the odd perch and small chub made for a nice mix of fish. It was the usually small stream fare, catching a few fish before each spot went dead, mainly roach which looked a lot larger in the clear water but were a fun size to catch.

I packed up after only three hours fishing as that was more than enough and went round to chat to my mate Simon who was on the nearby Colne. What a contrast this was as it was coloured from the canal water running in, he was catching plenty too although it was a different world as a marathon had been going on to add to all the dog walkers, cyclists and pushchairs, a few runners were still coming by with numbers on their shirts and you know you are straggling when you get overtaken by a bloke in waders.

 The rumour mill was going full throttle with a body being found in the river downstream hence the police helicopter, although I hope not, there always seems to be something going on when I go fishing lately but that's a bit too much. I walked back to the busy car park reflecting on my little bit of quiet fishing in the woods around the corner away from all the hustle and bustle, sometimes it's just good to get away from it all.

A Couple of River Trips, One Lucky Escape and Two Lucky Fish

Beef With The Locals

I hadn't been down The Gade for a bit of fishing since the opening day with dad so I was eager to see how things looked following the recent rains. I wasn't disappointed, the river was running well yet still looked quite clear and there was some lush weed too, it looked perfect. Thoughts roamed to how it's trying so hard to be the little chalk stream it deserves to be and even how grayling could thrive in such rippling flows. However the harsh reality of knowing the river has been in and out of the canal countless times wasn't lost so I knew dace would be the main quarry, but after they went a bit scarce a decade ago it was something I'd settle for as I was up for some proper river roaming.

I set up at the top end as usual, there's always something about roaming downstream that seems right, going with the flow. I dug out the 3lb 2oz main line for the first time in ages knowing the chances of encountering something large were slim on this free stretch of river, this coupled with a lighter hooklength meant everything was so crisp and my little stick float was dotted down as far as my eyesight would allow. It felt like the old days as the first of many quick biting dace battled their way across the current to where I was standing in the bright sun. I cast a shadow but it was a lazy late summer one and I cared not as the fish didn't seem to mind, the dace were abundant and a few decent roach showed too so I decided to experiment with a few photos of some them on the clean sunlit gravel after I slipped them back.

.....or before I scooped this one out

It was soon time to ramble on, for downstream beckoned, trying holes here and there, more dace followed in almost every one, not a lot but enough to keep me busy with the odd roach too, eventually making my way to the bottom end where it was so peaceful. I sat eating my lunch watching a jay go back and forth across the meadow to the nearby woods. It was still sunny and it was almost eerie how quiet it was with no dog walkers getting down this far which I didn't mind one bit. I did get some company work their way towards me in the form of a herd of cows, as I worked my way down to the very bottom of the stretch they gradually munched their way closer and closer each time.

Now I'm a bit funny with cows here due to experiences in the past, below I've copied a paragraph from my other post about this stretch of river which may explain why, if you've already seen it skip it but if not be afraid, be very afraid....

(There was 175Cow, probably not the most imaginative name for a beast but it had that number in it's ear and was a cow so... But it's a cow I hear you mutter like I'm some sort of loon, well I kid you not that 175Cow was not just any cow but rather, in layman's terms was a complete and utter nutter with udders. Many a time I would wonder down the bank with my gear to hear footsteps behind me, gradually getting louder until forming a stampede, I would look around to see 175 standing there with her cronies, turning around with the net and rod raised hollering made them stop but as soon as your back was turned they were off after you lead by you know who. It was scary stuff and on quite a few occasions I used to say to dad "It's 175! maybe we'll give that swim a miss today". He always agreed.

I remember one time when the housing estate was being built on the old paper mill site a building worker would go across to the moor and smoke something iffy in the bushes on his break. The look on his face was something I'll never forget when I came running past being chased by a herd of mad cows, I made it through a barbed wire fence without thinking what could get caught up in it I was so scared, I turned and looked at this chap and he almost did that thing winos do in old comedies when they look at the bottle, he was stunned and I was close to needing a new pair of pants. The weird thing about 175Cow is she was one of those pretty Jersey types with the long eyelashes, the sort you would like if she was in cartoon form, well you know what I mean. Anyhow she didn't look menacing unless you were a person or dog, then you got chased. The last time I saw her she was chasing a guy who lived on one of the canal boats across the moor - he was on a motorbike at the time)

So I've now got to the end of the stretch and so have the cows, I cannot go any further, I've checked the ears of any to see what numbers they are there's no number 175 so i'm ok right? Nope, not really as they have decided to park up for the day and sit down on the ruddy, muddy footpath, the bit where it turns to bog. I'm waving my arms about and shouting to get them to shift but they are just sitting there nonchalantly. I'd almost fallen over walking through that bit of mud on the way down, it was surprisingly deep and covered in a foot of water. Of course this was the spot where they decided to sleep of their lunchtime excesses.

There's a saying farmers have about the cows sitting down and the weather but I can't remember how it goes and I wasn't worried about the night's weather forecast right then. Cows also have a saying "When idiot in stupid hat yells at you to move, don't !" Sure enough they weren't budging and who could blame them. I could say I had no beef with them but that would be milking it so I made my way around the herd through the sticky bog, under a pylon grateful that there wasn't any lightning, keeping my rod low, hoping all the time that it doesn't get too deep. I finally made it out the other side whilst they all just stared, I looked around to see if there was a 175 style chase imminent but there wasn't. "Yeah you wont mess with me again in a hurry" I told them straight, albeit out of earshot, back at the car, half a mile away.

Two Flukes on The Bank Is Better Than None

The following week I'm back in leafy Hertfordshire in a more Autumnal setting as the weather had turned and it was safe to say Summer was over. It was much colder and a northerly wind had made me add the thermal lining to my German army surplus coat for the first time. I was in the area where I caught a nice perch last month but wanted to fish the swim below which was in theory much better. So with the extra water coming down I really fancied going for it, I had the float bug and I was going to fish the stick like a demon and take this swim apart.

Two hours later and I had three small perch and a couple of even smaller chub to show for my efforts. There were tiny chublets and gudgeon everywhere and I couldn't get through them so the swim was taking me apart. Funny how expectation is never the same as reality so I sat there and had lunch reflecting on a pretty poor morning's fishing, the main bit of entertainment coming from working out the dull thuds I heard all morning were courtesy of a woodpecker which finally came into view, either lesser spotted or greater spotted I couldn't tell but it was one of the black and white jobbies with the red head, working it's way along the rotting fallen willows that were parallel to the far bank, I'm pretty sure that dude had more success than I did.

After lunch I wandered up to the swim where I had the big perch last time just to see it if was still around after all I was quite good at catching gudgeon today, maybe I could pick up a chub as there's usually a few there, mind you I could have said that about the first swim, the one where I would have caught loads had it not been for the gudgeon, or the chublets, or the noisy woodpecker putting me off or had the day not had a 'Y' in it. 

In the new swim I fed around six maggots, lowered in the float for the first time half depth not expecting much but it ripped under immediately, a stonking bite that took the float out of sight and went really solid signalling a good chub was on, snaffling my single red maggot midwater without hesitation, sometimes you just can't work fishing out. I was keen not to lose what could be the only big fish of the day although I knew my chances were slim as this swim was tight. 

Now the river here was only three or four foot wide but my clutch was set loose as I had already bent my size 18 Kamazan B510 back into shape from snagging bottom in the other spot, my rod tip was under the water as the rushes on the near side made It hard to apply any side strain, at times there was so little line out my float was almost touching the rod tip. This made the fight exciting but nervy, one I knew I could lose at any moment, even more so when I noticed it was in fact a barbel and not a chub, and this barbel was doing a good job of trying to get under the prickly bramble overhang. I took a chance on a bit of a risky landing, getting it in first time I got it to the surface so even this was fortunate. I had never had a barbel in this spot ever and now I get one first cast, it should have come off but it didn't. Sometimes you can only say the best laid plans are no match for sheer unadulterated luck.

Despite the hectic scrap the fish swam off so strong, it didn't even want to be rested in the net but I rested it nonetheless. I returned to the swim and all I caught for the next hour was more gudgeon and yet more chublets, the big perch obviously wasn't around and there wasn't a sniff of a roach or proper chub either. That flukey barbel had really turned a bad day into a good one.

Now I needed a rest as I had been balanced on a combination of mud and waterlogged rushes all day, I'm not sure there's many ways of fishing that's more tiring than that so I went downstream looking for somewhere comfortable to sit and fish for an hour or two before going home. I stopped to chat to another angler on the way and twenty minutes later I'm still there chatting, a nice chap but I couldn't get away, it won't be the last time that happens but I'll always find time especially if they are older, I could be the only person he sees all day, now that's a sobering thought* My legs were now killing me so I got my goodbyes in wished him luck as I had used my quota of that already, or so I thought.

* I like to think he actually went home to his missus telling of how he couldn't get rid of a chatty angler rabbiting on about gudgeon for some reason before going out with his mates to the pub to watch the football, getting drunk and having a great time before getting the rods ready for the next trip.

I soon get to a spot that I almost passed by as it was so overgrown, however there was just enough room to flick my float out above a tree that was overhanging so much it was almost touching the near bank, running it right under along a nice crease. It was almost the textbook swim as I was sat on the inside of the bend, wind on my back, the water deepening against the tree and the clear water going black in the shade. The current was so perfect it was almost impossible not to have the float going through like a dream and starting shallow I picked off a few nice roach all around 8oz. I was hoping for a chub and whilst bites weren't hectic to start with there was enough action from the roach to keep me busy. Finally a chub showed and once again it was a fluke as my line was caught round the back of the reel, for some reason the chub didn't head for the roots, my repaired hook held firm and my luck held once more for a nice fish that was around 4lb

Varying depths and continuous feeding bought more roach, most of which were around the 8oz bracket plus a few more chub, then the gudgeon started to show as I must have been drawing them in from downstream. There was enough roach plus the odd chub amongst the gudgeon to keep me wanting just one more cast as the rain started to hit my back quite hard, it was now a fish a chuck and I was tired as the planned couple of hours soon turned into three or four, but yeah just one more cast... I don't mind the rain as long as it doesn't get in my bait pouch and there was something about it pinging off the hood of my German army coat as it seemed like the only noise and that was just wunderbar*. 

*This is a reference to a previous trip where I forgot said coat and got cold and wet thus making a big boob, wunderbar of course is German for wonderful, not to be confused with wonderbra which is the English for making two big boobs

Every now and then some of the gudgeon were bigger, good deep ones with big heads which made the fishing interesting and if they fill out a bit more a new rival to Sherman The Gudgeon could be a possibility come winter, oh yes, rabbiting on about gudgeon is cool when they are this size.

Evening was now drawing in and I was really tired by now, I could hear the rush hour building on the wet roads in the distance, my hands were wet and gritty from the dust in my bait pouch, offloading my maggots in large handfuls to finish off as they weren't worth keeping, not befitting a cold wet day but the fish were still having it (I was really trying to get those gudgeon fatter) The float was now disappearing each trot under the tree without fail although my bait was now almost gone, it's funny how long it takes when you are trying to get rid of it though.

I set out to run a float through in style yet got brought back to earth like only fishing seems to do, managed to fluke the two biggest fish of the day and finally got into the groove as the weather turned wetter, it was hard work, a bit streaky at times but fun and rewarding and at least there was no cows. 

Now where was I? Oh yeah - Just one more cast.

Trotting Pellet For Big Roach

This is a fun way of fishing and on it's day can be really quite effective, I could argue that on it's day cannot be beaten, but that's objective, however it is a technique that can be applied by anyone who can run a float through with other baits. Here's a simple lighthearted guide to what I've learned over a decade or so of trotting those little brown pellets. 

Location

First thing to point out is that you have to be on the right bit of river, some rivers have big roach in good numbers whereas some just have the odd fish here and there but that's the beauty of roach, you can get them across the land in a variety of waters. They seem to grow big in lakes, small streams, large rivers, canals, lochs, drains, tidal estuaries, you name it, also from Scotland and Northern Ireland down to the South East and West they are not geographically restricted like most other species. 

To get them on pellet you need a river that doesn't just have big redfins but one that sees a lot of pellets going in as feed as well, usually for other fish like barbel - The 'B' word is going to be mentioned a lot I think and whilst sometimes they can disrupt things I think any bycatch that puts a right bend in the rod is welcome, it would be boring if it was all roach and it's nice to get a good mix. It's also not good to curse barbel like some roach anglers do as it won't endear yourself to most of the other anglers on the river nowadays, nor is it a good idea to mention to other anglers how you have been bothered by barbel whilst after your intended quarry - The Roach.

There are many rivers where I wouldn't touch pellet with a bargepole instead preferring traditional baits but where pellet goes in the roach will be on them and how much they will be on them will depend on competition, but more of that later.. Also keep things relative, if you hear people say they have caught xx amount of 2lb roach it's because they have access to waters that hold them in good numbers, or have good imagination.  I'm not going to mention figures like that as I honestly don't keep count, although I can say that those caught on trotted pellet have only been on a handful of rivers so that shows how selective the method can be.

Try to keep things relative and in perspective to the water you are fishing, after all a 1lb roach is a wonderful specimen on some rivers and a scale perfect 1lb 14oz is every bit as good as a tatty 2lb'er even if you are chasing that magical barrier, always tell yourself this as you triple check them scales after returning a 1lb,15oz fish.

Swim selection can be an issue with big roach as in summer they sure do get around, I've had them in under a foot of water, or behind trees in deep slacks, in water almost too fast to stand in and of course those traditional roachy looking glides that may as well have a sign post on them. The fun of it all is to know they could be absolutely anywhere. 

When I was a lad I remember looking over a footbridge at a guy running a float wonderfully through a beautiful glide between two banks of ranunculus, whilst a shoal of huge roach sat in the slack ignoring his every move, he was oblivious to their presence but I doubt somehow if the roach were oblivious to his, that's roach for you.

On many occasions I've taken the time to do some fish watching. On some rivers in the evenings you can see big roach swirling on the surface, perhaps for flies but in all probability it's to say "look we're here all along yet you still can't catch us". Shallow streams are good for observing the fish and their behaviour or looking over bridges into the water below, as anglers we know this is compulsory and many a tip has been gained from staring into those waters whilst passing over brook or stream, there's also trees if you are into climbing, personally I prefer the former but there is no substitute for watching how fish act and learning from it, it can really negate any gaping flaws in your technique, trust me I know.

Why Trot Pellet ?

There's pros and cons like any other bait or method, the main drawback I suppose is it's a summer bait, as soon as the frosts come I loose confidence in it, maybe it would work on a warm day in early March who knows, however I have yet to try this out. Another problem is those barbel, I know that sounds strange but big roach and barbel seem to go hand in hand, or maybe fin in fin, whether it's a natural thing or the roach have learned to get in there early on the barbel feed and have grown big as a result, either way barbel present problems in regards set up for finicky roach. Another drawback is water clarity, in a fast swim in coloured water those big roach are not likely to see such a fast sinking bait in time and as a result I know my catch rates suffer in such conditions using pellet, it seems to work better the clearer the water is, but this leads me to the positives.

The pros of this method are that it can work when all others seem to have blown, the fish have got used to static baits on the bottom and are in intercept mode, clear water is great much like with hemp fishing and sunny days are too. I once talked to a famous roach angler who didn't start fishing for them until Autumn adamant that sunny summer days were a non starter, I actually prefer them now and I'm not going to grumble if I've had a  2lb roach before the frosts come that's for sure. I now catch more big roach in summer than I do in Autumn and Winter combined because of this method although I still look forward to those traditional cold winter roach days on maggot.

Another bonus is how the fish compete for the feed, I am lucky to fish some small clear rivers where you can see the fish coming up for the feed. Even on larger rivers like the Severn (when it's clear) after feeding a little and often for a while you sometimes see flashes of roach and can even have them boiling on the surface, you do see barbel flashing too on the feed (not to be confused with the scratching or rolling on the surface) especially on cloudy days. I'm not sure many static anglers know how well all fish including barbel feed up in the water but I've had them two feet deep in six foot deep swims, it really is a sight and it can be a case of buckle up and prepare for some explosive action when they hijack your roach fishing.  

Never underestimate how shallow big roach can feed and also be ready for a bite first run through. I've had a few like this and whilst It doesn't occur often it's happened too many times to be a coincidence if that makes sense.

Another pro (they are definitely out weighing the cons now) is that the bait is selective for larger fish so you can fish it in swims where there's hordes of small dace and bleak, you will get the odd tonker dace and plenty of little chub with their big ol' mouths but they are a welcome indicator that the method is working well, when you get the bigger chub and barbel thrown in with the roach it can be a full on red letter day. 

Sometimes it can take a while for roach to show but I think they can be drawn up from downstream by the scent and commotion whereas many a time they are on it from the off and it's the other species that get drawn in. Of course on some days like with any bait you find it hard but that's fishing. On it's day you can get dozens of roach and you will struggle to recall many under a pound and often put fish well over a pound back without a photo or weighing, it can be that good but I suppose you can say that about any bait 'On it's day'. 

Pellets also sink quickly which is great in those swims where maggots or hemp end up in the next postcode although I know deep down that is a drawback on slow rivers or when water visibililty is down slightly so there you go, can't win 'em all.

Did I mention the pellet stays on the hook well and is less fiddly than hemp? Also it doesn't need any prep or a refridgeration like some baits. I would err on the side of safety regarding it's shelf life and renew each season but I am confident that fresh pellets don't do any harm to the fish long term, river fish do have a three month detox after all plus plenty of natural foods on offer, plus everything else seems to eat them too.

Set Up

As mentioned before my set up is a bit of a compromise due to barbel getting in on the action, so purists should look away now, also It's really basic regarding shotting and the float, I often go with quite a light float with basic shirt button shotting on it and run it through the best I can. I once spent a whole season stringing out no8s but I found I did just as well with a dirty great no1 ten inches from the hook. My gear is also cheap and cheerful much like my ability, on a good day it's competent on a bad day quite comical, It's all just a bit of fun. A decent power match type rod that can handle those barbel, plus the pull of big roach and not bump smaller fish like dace and chub, a cheap old open face reel and a decent sized landing net are all you need to get going*

*There is of course other stuff you need like a discourger, food, drink, vehicle (unless you live on a great river) and fast women, but these are the basics.

The pellet is banded on the shank of the hook leaving the point exposed, usually 6mm or sometimes 4mm. I haven't tried a hair rig much when trotting so maybe that would work too or perhaps pick up too many barbel. I prefer making my own bands using silicon tubing rather than ready made ones as these are more flush. I use barbless hooks not just as a preference but also as I tried micro barbed once and found them quite hard to unhook due to the banded pellet impeding the discourger getting to the hook, I've never found I've lost more on barbless than those using micro barbed seem to do so will stick with the tried and tested.

An advantage of banded pellet is that it stays on the hook well, hook choice is usually a Drennan Specialist if there's bigger fish likely to show, but if I can get away with it a finer a Kamasan B510 will do the job and is also ideal for using 4mm pellets. Keepnets aren't for me either, I like to rove anyway and sometimes it takes a good wander to find the roach on some rivers. I had his roach with the distinctive orange mark on it's chin in two different areas the same season, the second time a good half a mile from the first. Which shows they move about as much as we do.

The floats I use are usually wire stemmed sticks for those fast runs and are surprisingly light as I know the fish come will up in the water, maybe I would catch more with a heavier float but in really shallow swims I find there's less bump offs with a light float and it is also so direct and sensitive. What you lose in casting distance can easily be made up for by wading out into the shallows where possible. As an aside I do think a well presented lead set up would fool more roach and no doubt there's anglers out there who are doing this whilst after barbel. In some swims you just can't trot a float as easy as you can fish a lead so maybe I'll fish a static bait in the future sometime, I may have to change the blog name though.

Line wise I've found Drennan Floatfish 4,4lb is pretty good as it gives you more than a decent chance with the barbel yet is surprisingly fine enough for roach in summer, maybe it's the colour as I like green line and floats. Pike and perch are green so maybe roach have trouble picking out that colour, just a thought.

You can give fish much more stick on light line when float fishing than you can on a lead as everything is much more direct. If you really get barbelled out you can go heavier and if things are hard go lighter, or just go with what you are comfortable with given the swim you are in. If barbel do show and you catch them on any gear, rest them before and after unhooking and as long as it takes when they are back in the water before releasing them when they look sturdy. 

Resting any fish in the water in the net also gives a good chance to look at their beauty and maybe take some nice photos, this 2lb roach had a scar on its back and it's tatty scales were all over the place yet I only noticed it was fin perfect when I looked at the photo I took in the net. I didn't take any other photos of it as it looked so ragged out of the water but in the water even the scales look good.

Techinque

Technique, me? Do me a favour, just try to run your float out amongst some feed and try to get them trotting down in tandem and looking natural under the water. I know I'm supposed to say something all clever and educational on this bit but it really is about feeding regularly and how the hookbait is behaving. Just fish as though you were using casters or hemp. Some people argue whether the feed should go in first or the float but it really depends on the swim. Try to be metronomic - feed, cast, repeat or cast, feed, repeat, trust me you will not overfeed the fish as even dace and gudgeon will be in on the action, besides the more you do it the better you'll get at it, that's the theory anyway. 

Don't try repeat, repeat, repeat as that is all the TV companies schedule for this year, nor do cast,cast,cast as that would mean you are using a stupidly light float like me on a windy day.

When you get a bite strike at anything, often there can be faint dips whereas with the barbel you'll get what I call a Slam Dunk, the equivalent of the three foot twitch where the float has gone down a good metre and is bending the rod round before you even have had a chance to react, when this is under your rod tip it really is something special, mind you a big roach can really rip the float under too.

The roach of course can be more subtle but a good one in fast water can really run, maybe just once or twice but there's some power there and an impressive turn of speed. Be prepared for that roll on the surface as I have found nearly all big roach do this, it's their way of saying "Here I am, I'm huge, about time your legs start wobbling" By word of consolation if and when you do lose a big one on the surface (and you will) they always look massive so take off a good 8oz of any estimate. Not only will it be more accurate it will make you feel slightly better and may just stop you throwing your rod in the bushes.

So that's about it I think although I may add more content in the future after all it is still a learning process, one that's been a lot of fun so far. All of the photos are roach caught on trotting pellet, which I hope to be adding to soon, nearly all from the last five seasons. All of them were caught in daytime in office hours so to speak and who wouldn't want an office like we have when we go fishing. Many were caught on long day trips to rivers far away that I knew held good roach and others on my local river I know well. As mentioned pretty much all of them were caught on warm bright sunny days when the rivers were low and clear and things are supposed to be hard so there you go, it shows it works, and works well.

As I have been writing this up I haven't had any big roach at all this season which goes to show how much I know and how fishing can come back and bite you so maybe I was on a lucky roll, even so I've still had many fish to around 1lb so perhaps I'm being blasé regarding what's big or taking the method for granted. I put this seasons failings down to the lack of weed and water being too coloured when I have gone to places like the Severn plus my local rivers struggling with abstraction and water flows so hopefully things will be different next year but you never know, either way It's been one hell of a ride so far and who's to say there won't be red letter days in the future, here's hoping. I'll try to update this post in the future when I learn more and hopefully add a few more pictures.

I also hope this has inspired you in someway and thanks for reading

Rob

Ok this is the first 'two' for what seems an age on pellet, not quite trotted but freelined as the water was so low.

Blennies & Barbel - From Rock Pool To River

Rock Pool Fishing

Last week I had a late summer holiday down in Devon for a few days and of course I took some coarse gear and of course I went sea fishing like you do and of course I blanked on my first trip. This was a few hours at Teignmouth, either side of visiting the town and doing the usual holiday stuff as I was with dad and the missus. Sea fishing for me is as much miss as it is hit as I just 'wing it' on coarse gear and coarse baits and to be fair the coast is not a bad place to top up your quota of blanks.

The next day was a new month as we had rolled into October overnight and oh how the year has flown by (some Covid lockdown irony there) I just wanted to catch something and I also wanted to fish a rock pool for the first time so we all walked down to the beach where we were staying at Devon Cliffs, I found some rocks and we set up the deck chairs. We were quite happy collecting seashells on the sea shore (bit of a tongue twister that one, who knew) Although I wasn't sold on the fishing and even doubted whether I should set up as there was so many other people about, I knew I would look a bit strange but it went quiet people wise and I couldn't resist, so I set up and made my way across the rocks looking for fish.

I didn't see anything, not even a crab, however the pools were beautiful and clear with sandy spots and different types of weed in them adding colour. Maybe there was no fish in these pools and as the tide turned some of them lost water so I tried the main channel or The Sea as the locals call it. There had been a storm the night before and I tried for an hour off the rocks for a wrasse but the sea was very coloured which resulted in a biteless hour fishing in the churned up water. I couldn't see rock from weed due to the water having the same red hue as the nearby cliffs so I settled for not losing any gear which as we all know adds a sour taste to any blank.

I stopped to have lunch with the others who were closer to shore although I swear I saw movement in the very last rockpool in the form of a lightning quick puff of sand, in the pool closest to shore and one of the shallowest but it held water. I threw in some broken pieces of prawn and tucked into my sandwiches not expecting much, in the pool that is, the lunch was great. With dogs now allowed on the beaches I joked that the closest I'd get to seeing a fish would be a poor beagle, a shark based pun that was lost on the missus, my dad got it and were he fifty years younger I'm sure he would have thrown me in for that one. I got up stretched my legs as I ate my crisps and looked back at where I threw the prawns in - they were all gone!

Now this rockpool was a decent size but was really shallow, most of it around 6 inches and a little deep corner where it was a good 8 inches, it was kind of oval in shape and reminded me of a mini Ruislip Lido where I used to fish as a kid. I towered over this little lido like a giant, my shadow from the low sun covering half of it and much of the rocks the other side. I was careful not to shade the baited area and in went some more freebies right in the 'deep' corner which had a slight overhang. What happened next was magical as dozens of fish darted out and feasted on the prawn buffet I had laid on, how there could be that many fish there yet I hadn't spotted them showed more my lack of knowledge and poor watercraft than anything else but hey It's all fun learning.

Most of the fish were tiny perhaps small gobies which are hard to hook on a size 12 but every now and then something bigger darted out. I lowered my float just below the overhang ledge with most of the split shot dangling in the air it was so shallow, a twitch of the bait brought an instant response and a blenny was on, at least I think it was a blenny as the thing came off onto the wet rocks and made it's way back to the pool before I could nab it. They are amazing little fish as they can walk on land and often travel from one rock pool to another if their one dries out, they can also attach themselves to the underside of wet rocks or weeds and wait for the tide to return, the one I lost did it old school flipping back to the water whilst I said flippin' heck or words to that effect. I hovered my float above the hole once more thinking my chance was gone but there was more than one fish under the ledge and I soon was in again this time a really small blenny, the smallest I'd ever caught but it was a fish and the blank was avoided this time.

I then caught two more a bit bigger, the usual blenny size, not huge but in such a tiny corner of my own little rock pool they seemed like giants, although I swear I saw a bigger one fleetingly. Now I'm in the zone and oblivious to all the walkers going by, fishing with a float in the air with an eleven foot John Wilson Avon, complete with bait bib around my waist full of prawns, I must have looked a right sight but I cared not for I was a rock pool angler now.

By now the wind had picked up so the others sought shelter closer to the cliffs where they could look for fossils as it was the Jurassic Coast after all. I could joke that the only fossil there was dad but he made it down and back up the steep slope to the beach and I didn't see many other 80 year old's doing that, if I'm as mobile at his age I'll be happy. Meanwhile I had to have a couple more dips in the pool, I could hardly call them casts after all.

I'd never explored rock pools when I was a kid as we couldn't afford to go on holidays much (things were just as hard back then folks) so was really enjoying it. Just as the others made their way to the cliffs a dark shape dashed out catching me unawares as it aggressively yanked my hookbait back into it's den, it looked massive so there's me doing a sideways strike in inches of water like it was a chub on the river back home. "I've got the big one" I yelled out like a child and it must be many decades since I've shouted that out to my dad. It's all relative now like it was back then and whilst it wasn't huge it just seemed massive for this little pool. The missus ran back to take a photo of the fish which looked like It had enjoyed quite a few prawns already, weight wise it could even be a blenny pb for me as this dude was fat. I returned the chunky blenny to the pool gently allowing it to walk across my hand and it disappeared under that ledge somewhere, somehow. The pool now seemed empty but it did before so I chucked in some more prawns for the little ones to feast on, although knowing them feisty blennies I wouldn't be surprised it they were back on them soon after we left.

Surprisingly we had those rocks to ourselves most the day which made a change for how this year has gone, maybe it was because I looked like a weirdo, but then there's nothing new there. I will look forward to messing about in rock pools again although the six hour journey back from the holiday was one from hell, with gales and sideways rain, surface water and aquaplaning, not to mention several tailbacks for accidents where people weren't as fortunate. The only highlight was convincing dad that one of the stones at Stonehenge was put on top in the 80's by Blue Peter, it does look newer than the other stones but even so as a wind up that's got to be a classic. I'll remember that every time I get stuck on the obligatory Stonehenge traffic jam on the A303 maybe next time when we're heading to the coast to do more rock pool fishing.

Back on The River

Following a weekend of further rain I'm back on my local river looking forward to running a float through, it was a bit blowy but it seemed nothing compared to the coast. The river wasn't the highest I had seen it but the water tables certainly were as I had to wade through a flooded field which I had never seen before. With the clear rain water covering the grass and nettles in places it reminded me of those weedy rockpools I left behind a few days ago, mind you it was a lot deeper and it actually had more depth than the river usually does so I sloshed my way round the edges grateful I was wearing waders, joking with the anglers already there that it's the new backwater, I jested that it could be stocked with bream and they jokingly asked if I could swim.

There was not many down there perhaps due to the weather and I wanted to do some trotting down the river (someone should do a blog about that) It felt good to be running that stick through with a bit of pace on the river and despite it bombing through it had surprising clarity to around four feet, so I was confident any barbel would see my moving pellet. They didn't disappoint and after a few good roach I had some nice fish which were going some in the extra current. They seemed a better stamp of fish which the colder weather always seems to bring out, and are jolly good fun on the float any time of year.

I packed up after only a few hours getting my fill of float fishing and getting back into the coarse fishing groove, also getting home just as the rains came again which was a bonus. The river had dropped a touch whilst I was there and would soon be back in it's confines although there should be enough ground water to keep it up through the Autumn, unlike other years where you often find yourself running a float through a slow clear swim getting a bend in the rod from huge sycamore leaves. Barbel do put a bigger bend in the rod than even the largest sycamore leaf blowing in the wind and a bigger pull than those windswept rockpool blennies after all.

Mud, Mullet & Mr President

Something always seems to happen when I do a bit of fishing on The River Hamble so this weekend I went on another trip to this eventful river wondering what adventure would lie in store. However before that it would be remiss of me not to recount the odd happenings which befell me on the two previous occasions last year.

Mullet - Grey, Golden Grey & Strawberry Blonde

It's not every day that you see the most powerful man on the planet or catch the most powerful fish that swims in British rivers and whilst both are debatable there's no denying the combination makes for and interesting story. I remember the day well as the first trip of 2019 there coincided with the D-Day celebrations down the road in Portsmouth and many of the worlds dignitaries were in town, little old me was far less important for I was just down the coast setting up on a creek off the main river on a point which jutted out at high tide, just to do a bit of fishing. I was in a nice peaceful spot but one where I caught very little aside from a really small bass and a sand goby using a tiny hook as there was not a mullet in sight, but I had avoided a blank and was enjoying the micro species not to mention the scenery, the pomp and circumstance could have been another world away as I had this little corner of the estuary to myself.

The ebbing tide and the ever increasing yardage of mud banks soon forced me to think about a move round to the nearby quay and as I was putting the gear together a flight of military helicopters flew over shattering the peace, I stopped to have a good look and it was clear they weren't ours but indeed the Americans. One of the helicopters broke formation and seemed to veer towards as if it was checking me out. It was then that I realised my Diawa Iso landing net handle wasn't the best look, whilst it extends to a massive 20ft making it ideal for high banks and muddy estuaries when compacted the damn thing looks like a rocket launcher, I had to laugh. I looked up straining to see a glimpse of that famous strawberry blonde barnet as I knew full well it could be the closest I get to seeing a mullet all day.

I couldn't 'Trump' that I thought but after moving round to the quay I rested my legs and as I was sitting on the dock of the bay watching the tide roll away (someone should do a song about that) I was soon into a proper mullet and a golden grey at that, only my second one ever which took a huge piece of poorly presented bread, the size of a golf ball, I think I only put it on to see if there was any crabs about in the clear water, so to watch a fish ghost in a wolf it down was just magic, this mullet was a slimeball (hence no picture) and I would love to know why golden greys slime up like that yet the other mullet species don't. I used my jacket as a makeshift unhooking mat and it was now a mess but it beat putting the fish on the hard concrete (You can do you own joke about slimeballs with mullets) As the evening wore on and thoughts returned to the trip home I managed two small thick lipped mullet to round off a really good day and as it got colder I thought goosebumps were a better option than keeping warm wearing that coat.  

On the way back to the car I had a pleasant chat with one of the lifeboat guys who was sweeping weed from their slipway, little did I know I would get pretty close to needing their services next time round.

Stuck in The Mud

Later that summer I had brought the missus back there on a weekend day trip as it seemed such a lovely place last time, however I was forgetting how different weekends can be to weekdays, plus it was during the holidays and it was much hotter, much sunnier, what could possibly go wrong?

I tried fishing I really did but after a few hours of everything either being thrown into the water or jumping in of it's own accord I had had enough, someone even threw their dog into the water near me, at least I think it was their dog, other people were throwing stones, some even paddle boarding with their babies on their backs with no life jackets, it was full on silly season and I was bang in the middle of it all. It was no surprise I caught nothing so I wandered further along to try to find some peace but found something else.

Windswept and a bit tired can be two excuses but the bottom line is it was inexperience and a lack of concentration that saw me go from hard gravel to soft mud in one foolish misplaced step. I went in below the knee with one leg so in went the other to correct my balance, the worries of blanking were now at the back of my mind as I remember saying in a (surprisingly) calm manner to the missus that "I was in a bit of trouble here" and whilst the tide still had a few hours to reach me the embarrassment of having to call the RNLI to rescue me within sight of their base would not be forgotten in a hurry.  As I gradually sunk further down with each movement no words can really describe just how tiring it is trying to get out of mud or just keeping your balance for that matter. 

So there I was super glued to the river bed, luckily I had my tackle bag with me so I had more than a sip of water from it and took stock. I unfolded my empty net bag to sit on and tried to ease myself out on my back, one leg finally came free but the other wouldn't without slipping out my wader, I did so and was finally free but my other wader was firmly entrenched in the sticky mud of the south coast. I tried to salvage it but it was well and truly in there, waders are pretty stretchy when you try yanking on them like that but the mud won that tug of war battle with plenty to spare, I was out though and that was the main thing. Somehow the only bit I got any muck on aside from my sock was my hands so cue a muddy celebration shot. 

By now a small crowd had gathered where my missus was on the promenade and some were clapping but no doubt many were thinking what a wally.  I won't be making that mistake again in a hurry I hoped and as I limped the good mile back to the car park on one boot and one muddy sock I was more than relieved to be on terra firma.

Relatively Normal

Fast forward to this weekend's trip and it was once again a busy river although I was thwarted this time by a strong wind which made my preferred choice of spot much too choppy, I was on the other bank for the first time and naturally I unwittingly chose to set up where the local dinghy club launch so we moved before I had even threaded my line as a fleet of small boats appeared beside us, with even smaller sailor types, no doubt the Nelsons or Drakes of the future. I cared not for naval competence at this moment so this landlubber was soon on the move, after the events of last time I wanted some peace away from the hustle and bustle so we rambled on along the foreshore.

The missus and I walked almost a mile to find a sheltered spot and when we got there it was almost like a lake, a small bit of river that was an inlet of the main channel, no doubt just mud at low tide but fishable it was right then and fish it I did, setting up a waggler for I feared the wind would find us as it always does when the tides change. I didn't get any bites and didn't see many signs of fish either but it was a nice place to spend a few hours. We even managed to see the same cargo ship we saw a fortnight ago at the docks near Brighton this time coming from Southampton docks, not sure what the odds of that are, maybe the captain was looking out at us through his binoculars thinking he's catching nothing here either. Then it got busy with walkers and to cap it off despite being in the middle of nowhere two teenage girls decided to go for a swim next to us, like I say it was a relatively normal day for this river.

It was obviously a time to move again so not sure which way to go I just went with the flow or rather the ebb in this case. As we were walking round there was big swirl on the surface that wasn't a girl in a bikini, so in full on stalk mode I crouched down and worked some bread in to the swim and lowered my float but whatever it was had gone. It had probably clocked me by the time I had said "Oooh fish!' I was comfortable fishing there though so I stuck at it for a few hours occupied by the tiny fish that were that too small to even dip the float, I wondered what they were but before I could even say 'sand smelt' a mullet appeared taking bread off the top, it was game on at last and I braced myself for a proper bite, the eager anticipation and even expectation made everything from that moment a blur.

Bam! The mullet didn't disappoint as the float shot out of sight, I struck like lighting seizing that one chance and the rod bent double as the surface erupted. Some mullet go some and some go even more and this one despite not being that big was leading me a merry dance on 6lb line.  I was having trouble keeping it out of the weeds of which there were plenty close in, the missus took this action shot which is a lot better than one of me getting stuck in the mud that's for sure.

Mullet magic, it was the only bite I had all day and the only fish, just hooked in the edge of the lip and it went like a train. I don't think I could ever tire of this sort of fishing and I hope I never do.

Ps On a serious note I googled how to get out of mud when I got home but there is surprisingly very little information about it. Having garnered some helpful advice on fishing forums it would appear I did the right thing and it is a good idea to displace the weight on your back or front. Another thing I would add is stay calm, know what the tide is doing and don't fight to get out as it's flippin' knackering.

Pps I knew I had a spare boot back home in the shed but it's sod's law that it wasn't a left left but another right that was left! So if anyone has any spare size 9 lefts left let me know right.

Small River Big Perch

It had been a while since I had run a float through for whatever comes along so I headed to a stretch of river that was real Mr Crabtree type fishing or maybe Isaac Walton, all twists and turns, shallows, rushes and overhanging trees, many of which were starting to show early signs of Autumn. Clearly no one had told the woodpigeon what time of year it was as it sat in the tree opposite on a nest, an out of sync bird sharing the swim with an out of sync angler, I had been having a mare lately with the last trip aborted due to me forgetting my fishing jacket so this time I had all the gear and I was keen to wet a line.

Naturally I set up in the most awkward, narrowest spot possible so just for fun I rested my rod tip on the far bank thus gauging it's width to be a whopping six feet, throw in the far bank himalayan balsam that was bent over in the water I had a mere three feet of water to play with, I wanted to run a float through but with it a bit slow I reverted to the matchstick again. Something about the swim looked right though and as the matchstick drifted under the overhang each time it moved and a few small roach and chub kicked things off, the latter doing their best to acquaint themselves with the balsam, something a larger chub soon did successfully forcing me to step up a touch.

I was glad I went a bit heavier as the roach and chub were drawing the attention of something much larger, so with the odd follow and swirl it soon got fearless and started chasing a 10oz roach about as I played it under my rod tip. From my vantage point I could see it was a big perch, however the cunning roach seemed far too agile for the sergeant major and it's chase, I could have let it have a longer go but I bided my time knowing there's one thing perch seem to like gulping down more than anything else.

The perch was still around giving the odd chase and making the fishing hard but after going deeper I finally had what I was looking for, oh yes, a gudgeon. Now perch love gudgeon more than an idiot likes fishing awkward swims and sure enough it didn't hesitate in the attack, it's gills puffing out and sucking it in right under my feet with about a foot of line to my rod tip, my size 18 hook was soon transferred from goby to stripey which I knew would happen, it always seems to to do this, I don't know if it's a barbless thing but perch always seem to get hooked perfectly in the top lip whereas the prey fish gets off somehow and as I stood up a relieved gudgeon tore off into the depths whilst the perch tore up the narrow swim going everywhere, it was on, going like stink and my rod was bent double, with the clutch set perfect and the tip under water at times to avoid all the snags, it was a fun but hectic scrap.

Richard Walker once said "The perch is the biggest fish of all" and that is in no small part due to the fact a good one always seems massive, both in the water and out, this one was no different and looked even larger in the narrow confines of the swim as I drew it over the net. I don't catch many big perch and most are down to a bit of improvisation like this one so I consider anything around 2lb to be a really good fish. So as the scales went round to 2lb 10oz  I was tad surprised as it looked so much bigger. I was happy though as it was a fine fish for someone just pottering about on a short pleasure session on a small river and it was the biggest fish of the day, not to mention the first good perch I'd had in ages.

I packed up soon after with the woodpigeon still sitting on it's nest nonplussed by all the goings on, I had hardly seen anyone all day and it was the perfect temperature so I took a slow walk back to the car wondering whether I should test my scales or my eyesight. "The biggest fish of all?" That's the old perch all right.