Submarines and Battleships

 I returned to the tiny pond I fished when barely a leaf graced the trees earlier in the year, a water so small you could easily skim a stone in any direction and find land, however this wasn't early spring hoping for bites, today I had bigger fish in mind and hoped for some tench, failing that I would be happy with anything although I only had two baits - pellet and bread, the maggots were left at home much to the dismay of the hordes of ravenous tiny rudd, I had had enough of them from last time.

The pond looked great although not as weedy as I hoped and one pull through with the weed rake signalled no more raking was needed, in fact I didn't even fish the raked swim instead opting for another spot in a tight corner where fish were already bubbling, I'd be a fool not to fish there and I could always move if bubbles showed in the other swim.

I decided on 6lb line on a reel I usually use for mullet on holidays as it was snaggy in my little corner of the pond, a corner so far removed from any mullet fishing that's for sure, lilies one side and trees the other, not forgetting the one I was sat under which gently reminded my rod tip of it's overhang on several occasions. 

Starting on pellet I struck as the float buried amongst the bubbles only to get a couple of rudd, the tench didn't seem to be playing ball and bites were hard to connect with, the rudd were nice ones though and in wonderful condition.

All this time I was distracted by some carp in the corner, now there's only five or six in the whole pond and here they were in front of me like a flotilla of grey battleships, cruising around with a gunmetal sheen in the clear water. On went a larger hook and off came the shot, then out came the bread for I just had to have a crack at them.

They weren't going mad for it like they do on some ponds so I was happy when the smallest one of the group came in and took my piece of bread, more a destroyer then a battleship, I was less happy when it tore line off before destroying me in a snag. I had the clutch set all wrong and It must have come loose somehow when not being used, there was hardly any tension at all and it's no surprise that trying to apply some with your fingers is no substitute for the reel doing it. I should have checked this on set up, it was poor angling and I was angry with myself.

I stopped for lunch before setting up again, a kingfisher beeped as it flew low over the water and a roe deer went by slowly in the woods on a ridge right behind me, although far too concealed for a photo opportunity. By the time I was halfway through my lunch another carp had returned and I quickly tied on a new hook whilst trying to eat an apple, the rest of my lunch could wait as I was getting a second chance.

This fish was larger and harder to tempt and so it was lunch was finished, I waited patiently then the battleship returned, however I was the one all guns blazing this time and I wasn't messing about although you never know if you have gone too far the other way and set the clutch too tight, anyhow I was about to find out.

The grey shape slurped it down and I didn't give an inch at first as the little corner of the pond erupted, then I let it run a bit whilst keeping it away from snags not wanting to yank it in as I was in control, it still took a little while until I slipped it over the net, no mistake this time, in doing so it looked jet black in the shady water under the tree.

I love the colours of fish in clear water and carp are a great example, the grey gunmetal battleship was more of a rustic oak galleon, even darker perhaps, either way she was a beauty and easily the largest carp I have had from this pond given I have only ever had one here previously.

I chilled for a bit pouring out the last bit of dregs from my flask, soaking up the moment and looking up upon hearing rustling once more to see the roe deer return from it's journey, using exactly the same route through the undergrowth, on the higher ground above me no more than a couple of rod lengths away, it's hind quarters illuminated in the sun as it stopped momentarily before moving on.

Even my stale old coffee tasted good right then at that moment, the collection of events making something great. That's fishing right there in a nutshell, why we do it, why we love it.

After the break I tried once more to get some tench, not helped by the weather which went from cloudy to sunny, not helped either that I'm not the best tench angler and one that is easily distracted by carp, kingfishers and deer. It was in the shady spells when the bubbles arrived but several missed strikes on pellet indicated those rudd were still at play.

I tried some more bread this time on the float to see if I could get some more of the little bars of gold but they were either too quick or too small as my bread danced about in the clear water before even getting to the bottom, then I cast towards the weeds and bang!

The float buried, something took my bread on the drop but it sure wasn't a rudd, it was continuously trying to dive into the weeds, under where the carp previously sunned themselves, if they were battleships this was a submarine, a green one too as I finally saw it was my quarry - The Tench.

It looked a long fish as I battled it to the net through the clear water watching every dive for cover and countering it. It was absolute perfection once again, there wasn't a mark on it's body, I was in awe of the condition of this wild fish, not one scale was out of place and it looked it had been painted and varnished.  I quickly weighed and photographed it and it turned out to be a couple of ounces over my best tench for here, a perfect fighting fit tinca that was another new venue pb for the little pond.

I only caught four fish all day, all of them great looking fish, despite not having the best starts and making a schoolboy error, plus the usual distractions of the wildlife which wasn't too shabby nor were the surroundings. Every now and then I looked up through the gaps in the trees and could see and hear the busiest motorway in Europe, although It barely registered, they can keep their busy road here for I had a busy roe deer. I was engrossed in my own little green corner, the only things that really mattered were Submarines and Battleships.

Some Nice Roach At Last

A couple of trips to my local river saw a mixed bag and two enjoyable days, the first of which I had the place to myself(almost) enjoying a nice mix of fish when I spotted a shoal of small barbel dancing around under the smallest of overhangs, the polaroids revealed every movement when the sun came out as a handful maggots drifted past them untouched, I upped the anti to a handful of pellets and saw enough action to cast my little stick float.

I managed a cheeky 2lb barbel caught on fine line, despite it's size the barbel went like a train and I had to use all my luck getting it in from such a narrow swim. It had recently beaten another angler by the looks and I quickly removed both my hook and someone else's which was tied to much stronger line, it goes to show the harder you pull the harder they pull back. I thought this fish may need resting but no, try as I might it didn't want any of that and stormed off as if to say "Is that all you got" The power to weight ratio of the smaller barbel is something else I thought.

When I said I almost had the place to myself I was of course joined by the local robins, cocky as ever there were three of them, the two adults and a mottled juvenile, in one swim I sat on the deck as one of the adults saw no issue with my flask or rucksack when it comes to getting a good feed.

A few days later I was off to another stretch and was greeted with a high, coloured river that was a stark contrast to last time following some overnight rain. I also saw a mate I hadn't seen for a while,  so I plopped my gear down in a decent spot a few swims above and spent the next half hour catching up with him. I was in no rush and hoped the river would fine down a bit as I wisely proclaimed that it looked too coloured to be trotting pellet.

Of course when you say things like that fishing always proves you wrong, so after starting on maggot and failing to make a dent into the chublet party that was clearly going on in my swim I switched to pellet. Naturally the first fish was a small chub although bigger than the previous ones but at least they were taking pellet and so were the barbel as the float ripped under, turns out it wasn't too coloured, who knew!

A fine start to the day continued with a few more before I went down to chat to my mate and give the swim a rest. He was doing ok on the lead but there was no roach or good chub showing on float, we talked about the roach as he had been on hemp and tare but they didn't want to know, however we both knew they were there, I returned to my swim fed a few pellets and I could just make out a few shapes hitting it dead shallow, this made me dig out the 'stick.'

If you have read my other posts the 'stick' refers to a matchstick and although the river was pushing through I just had to give it a go. Sitting on the deck as usual I was able to fish quite close in and sure enough they were roach and they were up in the water, I had a lovely roach first run through, holding back the 'stick' and letting it drop.

One roach suddenly turned into 'one a cast' for a short period as I had that magical jag jag glide in the fastest bit of water as a pristine redfin spun on the surface each time, they were all netters and I swear I was catching these fish at around 6oz at the start of the season, now they were filling out a bit. The matchstick was working again and this one was a cracker, much bigger than the rest.

The roach switched off as quickly as they had turned on but it was a wonderful hour of redfin action, superfast bites that needed a subtle approach, there's not many better sights in angling than when the sun comes out whilst you have a good roach spin on the surface, that splash of orange fins and platinum silver breaking the sun's reflection can light up water of any colour.

I caught a couple more barbel on the matchstick before changing back to float as paddlers clouded the water upstream even more. This was a cue to pack up so I bade farewell to my mate who was still catching and I did so reflecting on a nice day's fishing, whilst at the same time wondering if the parents of the children paddling know there's two sewage works just upstream.

This river is healthy, for now and that mucky colour will drop out, sadly you can't say this of many rivers around the country at the moment. Hopefully all those fish will continue to grow and prosper and continue to intrigue us anglers.

A Day On The Severn In Pictures

 Friday saw a day trip to a windy River Severn, the river was a good level and was a touch clearer than last time but still had that brown tinge and there looks like being no weed growing again this year. 

Whilst I was setting up the wind didn't seem too bad and the flow looked perfect, the three hours of traffic jams seemed to be a distant memory already.

Naturally by the time I was fishing it was blowing a hoolie, right up the river.

It was good to see and hear the trains back, it just didn't seem right when they weren't running the other year - Choo choo!

All the canoes that went by were quiet, friendly and polite as I caught mainly dace and a few small chub out in the middle.

Maybe choosing the most open spot on the river wasn't the best idea, at times gusts of wind almost blew me over but It felt great just being out there, trotting down the river.

The sheep weren't daft in the meadow downstream, finding shelter from the wind and the sun which was now blazing.

As if to remind you what the wind can do. I hope no one was going over the stile when this tree went down.

When the missus returned from taking photos of sheep, stiles, steam trains and the silly so and so standing in the Severn we moved spots to get out of the wind a little. Naturally I got back in the water catching more dace until...

I was into something bigger, getting rid of the last of the maggots. It was almost the last run through of the day so I didn't wan't to lose it, I knew exactly what it was so played it gently to start with.

Then I gave it some stick to stop it going downstream.

I landed the fish just before it deepens having waded down river playing it, it was a fun way to finish the day.

I love pike, such beautiful, exciting fish and I'll never moan when they gatecrash the party no matter what size they are.

Once again the river was hard, trotting pellets didn't work again and dace were hammering everything, even big bunches of maggots. The roach were not around for me in spots that used to be prolific so I hope the weed returns at some point in the next few years. As we got back to the car in the evening sun the landing net had already dried out in the relentless wind but at least it got wet in the end courtesy of the pike, which turned up almost as if to show the dace they can't have all their own way.

Off we went to Bewdley to get fish and chips before the long drive home.

They're Taking My Lunch

I Had a couple of trips to the club pond this week, what with the rivers low and the school holidays on I just wanted somewhere quiet to chill for a bit, even resisting the urge to fish bread on the top. Last time I was surface fishing I chatted to another angler who was fishing prawn for perch and getting a few too, I was quite jealous so decided to have a crack myself with the little pink crustaceans.

To cut a short story even shorter I failed miserably, despite fishing the same spot in the same way. Trying to read the swim I would say that the carp were pushing out the perch this time as any stripey action was spasmodic between carp showing up. That's fishing though and the two carp I caught were more than welcome.

A few days later I'm down there again this time armed with maggots as I knew I would catch loads, whether I would get through the roach was another matter and sure enough they were dipping my pole float and taking off with my single maggot with abandon, the fact that I caught quite a lot of perch this time was not lost on the ironymeter although they were small and nothing really bent the rod well until a crucian/goldfish showed up like a bar of gold in the sunshine, it was a clonker too, a real beauty.

In the following half hour I caught a nice mix of all the species but it was mainly roach, small perch and rudd and they were starting to boil on the surface for the feed. It was time for a break.

I stopped for lunch enjoying the sun thinking i'd give it another half hour after and a small robin landed on my lunch box infront of me, took some maggots and a few crumbs of my crisps, shame they weren't prawn cocktail as it could have almost been surf n turf, but I'd had enough of prawns by now.

The robin left as the local trouble showed up, approaching me whilst tilting his head as he walked right over my gear, glazed black eyes blinking with a roll of film in a lazy manner, I threw some maggots at him and he was slow to react unlike the robin who would have spotted each and every one. He took a few before I tried hand feeding, it worked on a robin on the canal earlier in the season but I was thinking how this chap had a much bigger beak. I was glad he didn't take up the offer.

Mr Magpie was more interested in what I was eating and soon snaffled the piece of ham I threw down from the corner of my sandwich, this was followed up by a bit of lettuce then the corner of the bread, this must be fine dining compared to maggots, even the bread was wholemeal, so healthy too, the magpie ate well although he struggled a bit with the bread, so I chucked the other corner into the margins of the lake.

Slurp, Slurp, Slurp.

As I tucked into the rest of my lunch, it was interrupted by that unmistakable sound as a carp was taking the crusty corner I just threw in complete with mayo, the rest on my fingers which I quickly wiped down. I had the corners of the other sandwich left in the lunch box, I just couldn't resist it could I?

I knew they would soon drift away and knowing I only had a few bits of the worlds worst bread (they were wholemeal crusts covered in mayo!) I removed my shot and attempted to hook a bit of crust on my size 18 barbless. I had no time to change hook or was too lazy and I think it was the latter as I wasn't worried If it didn't work, I knew I could get fish off the top if I wanted to come down armed with the white stuff for a proper session, no this was more just a bit of impromptu fun.

What an achievement it was - hooking the bread I mean. If you have even tried hooking floating crust on a size 18 you'll know how hard it is, but somehow it stayed on, that was until something small started hitting it and it came off, all that effort and it's dismantled by a 3oz rudd - I had to laugh.

I tried again this time with the very last bit of my lunch.

Plop! 

Right in front of the carp's nose, I remember the line looking like gossamer from the bread to the pole float laying there flat on the surface, far finer than what I would use in a floater session, this could be interesting I thought.

The carp wolfed it down my crust, it was recycling at it's finest, my line straightened and I'm pretty sure Mr Magpie flew off making a noise behind me somewhere as I sprung into action from the deck, joints cracking as I uncrossed my legs. I was thinking this is fun at the same time as thinking I'm too old to be sitting like this fishing like a kid. It was fun though and after a hectic scrap a carp was in the net to finish the day off nicely. 

You're never too old to be fishing like a kid I concluded.

It wasn't the biggest, nor the prettiest of fish and it had a small mouth so maybe using size 18s with floating baits is the way to go, I'm only joking of course but make sure you eat your lunch, because if you don't everything else will.

Be sure to save those crusts though.