Tales From The 100 - No 74 The River Brue

 This is part of a series of short stories recollecting some of my trips around the country fishing 100 rivers, some were good, some brilliant and some just bonkers, there was always something going on. So when things are quiet I'll cast the mind back in no particular order and remember a few of these adventures.

I had got my day ticket in advance and was eager to explore this new river whilst on holiday in Somerset so upon parking in a church car park I was surprised to be greeted with a closed farm gate, with several anglers further down the other side of it, naturally being an Olympic athlete (yeah right) I navigated said gate with surprising aplomb, only to see the footpath went the other way back though the church cemetery and over a nice footbridge to the river from where I had parked.

We've all done it I thought, well seasoned river anglers have at least - gone to a new place and either parked somewhere daft or walked somewhere daft before learning a newer more direct route. My best must be a farm gate on the Lugg where I prized the thing open before taking great effort to make sure I closed it (thinking this isn't fished much) before realizing I could have walked around it and the newer gate was further in. The cows at the time looked unimpressed.

Undaunted this time on the Brue I made my way further down from the car park not just because the other anglers may have thought I was a gate climbing poacher but also to seek more streamier glides than the slow water near the car park.

With a pint of maggots in my bib and my trusty stick shotted down to it's tip, I caught a few fish here and there before stumbling on a deep hole where the river went through a narrow gap before entering a deep pool, I believe it was called something like The Frying Pan due to it's shape and here I had many roach and dace, nothing big but good fun.

I was still eager to explore and whilst getting many fish in the 'Pan' I was keen on something bigger so downstream beckoned. I soon encountered a rush of water I could hear below from what was a surprisingly high bank for such a small river, so I looked for a way down. Sliding on my rear like the world's worst Olympic athlete (more my style) taking taking care to avoid a plant that looked like a Triffid I eventually found a piece of paradise.

The water was gushing through another narrow channel before entering slightly slower water, perfect for dropping my stick float in and letting the current do the rest. Knowing I had got down surprisingly stealthily I started at the head of the swim and was into a fish a chuck. It didn't take long before I got the bend I wanted from the first of many decent chub.

The chub were going to 3lb  but were perfect in every way, dace and roach were plentiful in between before the first trout showed up, a beautiful fish, similar size to the chub and I was getting all the variety I needed.

This continued for a few hours, my little run at the bottom of the step bank was full of fish, I could hear walkers passing almost overhead but couldn't see them, nor could they see me, for I was tucked away in my little gully getting a bite a chuck, it was small river fishing at it's best.

After a while bites slowed, they had to really so I tried the glide above wading slowly upstream even if it meant a short run of the float back to back to where I was positioned, reeling in as my float traveled downstream towards me. I hoped for the odd bonus fish fishing this way but once again chub were on it and it was at this point It dawned on me this was an exceptional river, the chub were not big but at around 1lb with a foot of line out under the rod tip were a heap of fun, naturally another trout turned up going all airborne like they do, I was almost catching fish at my feet.

I had heard the Brue was a good river and I think it was 'sock on' with some recent rains but even so it was a cracking day's fishing.  My tally showed 142 fish in around 4 hours, 50 roach, 60 dace, 3 trout and a whopping 29 chub that needed landing although standing in the water I was able to scoop out many to hand. I didn't count the chublets many of which were dace sized.

I packed up as I had to go to meet the missus and the in-laws who were waiting for me in Wetherspoons for dinner back at Burnham near our holiday digs..... I was a bit late.... I can't think why.

First Tench of The Year

 Ok maybe I'm a bit late with getting my first tench having paid the price for some early half hearted forays for the tincas late March and early April, add to that my penchant for getting easily distracted by the other species my excuses were in early. However a tench is a tench and any fish at any time would do even if I felt one was overdue.

So it was I arrived at the little tench pond which looked so different to last time in early spring, which was more late winter in comparison to today, all the lillies were now up, weed was touching the surface and little rudd were dancing among the greenery as two coots seemed to getting amorous just for the sake of it, working on a second brood perhaps and who could blame them.

I picked a spot by some yellow flags, fed some bread as it is working everywhere else for me and didn't wait long for the first rudd to drag my float across the surface, resulting in a nice 6oz fish. I knew they would keep me busy but rudd wouldn't do today

A few more rudd followed as expected as I could see my bread twitching below the surface in the clear water but I was picking out decent ones as the small nuisance rudd were unable to dip my undershotted float. I waited for that solid bite and it didn't take long as my quarry took the offering and ripped the float under. A fine tench strongly battled it's way to the net, one I should have weighed as it could have beaten my pb for this little pond but I slipped the beautifully coloured fish back delighted.

A few more rudd followed as well as a tiny bream, It's amazing what can take a piece of bread on a size 12, emphasized by the second tench of the day which was one for the future. Note the blurry photo where it's paddle tail must have splashed the lens, well I did need a close up with one this size.

No more tench followed but the rudd got a good feed, I actually think I fed them off which is quite an achievement as even their bites got a bit slow. The pond was now eerily calm on this still, cloudy day, as I left, It was pretty much perfect tench weather and whilst I only had a couple my goal was achieved with a good fish and a well proportioned 'bar of soap' tiddler.

I will look forward to returning to this little haven of tench delights, some time soon.

A Bread Letter Day on The Canal

I planned on giving bread a go on the canal again, this time taking lunch and a seat as the last rove in April was quite tiring on my out of shape body and mind, I was 'rove rusty' but this time I was equipped, or at least I thought I was.

Setting up in the usual area I fed a bit of bread and fished straight through on 4,4lb line to a size 12, under a small pole float that only took the weight of the bread. Expectation once again was realistic, a couple of decent chub or bream would do. First cast the latter obliged, this could be a good day I thought as a good bream rolled in the sun and it got even better when it was in the net.

I recognized this fish instantly as it was Scar (yup I've named it) caught in exactly the same spot in exactly the same way as last time, pretty much a month ago. If you go back to my April post on the canal you can see the difference in how the scar has healed a bit and it is no longer the raw open slice. I was delighted to catch it again and see the breeding tubercules on it's body, I'm seriously thinking about going for it a third time in a month from now for scientific research.

After releasing Scar I had it's smaller relative of around a pound or two so was off to a good start as I moved on, as the local bird life had cottoned on to my bread approach. Further up the small chub were already sunning themselves and to catch one of their larger relatives would make the day. However I made do with giving these youngsters a few freebies as I passed by.

The ever brightening morning saw the bream feed up in the water and I managed another couple on the drop from a new spot, stalking them behind some nettles, I sometimes think when I'm wearing shorts the fish can see the paleness of my early summer legs reflecting the sun, so staking bream behind the flora meant a few stings and bites but resulted in a few nice fish.

Cricket season of course is now in full swing but on walking past the nets I must confess I didn't think much of the slip cordon. You're not going to catch much swanning around like that I thought.

I picked up a couple of chub to 2lb in another swim I had never fished before as my walk continued, then a couple more good bream, pale due to the summer colour of the canal but glistening in the sun. With new swims found and with the weight of bream now approaching 20lb it had been an excellent morning.

The day was complete regarding my goal but I continued walking, it was a nice day and I ventured to a part of the canal previously unexplored hoping for a bigger chub, once again I got my wish when a demon cast under a tree saw a bend in the rod that could not be mistaken for a bream. I've said it before but these chub on the canal seem to go better than river fish, mind you this one was a good one and at bang on 5lb it really made the day.

Lunch was brilliant after a great morning, sitting on a gently sloping grass bank below a lock, my seat redundant, by now my walk had taken me into the middle of nowhere, into a sea of green peppered with the colours of buttercups and blossom, birds were everywhere, people were all in good spirits and sometimes you marvel at the canal on days like today. It was the perfect place to relax and munch my sarnies pausing only to say "This is the life".

I continued, refreshed after my break, my walk took me past abandoned boats, one that had been smashed up and normal ones where boaters were putting out sun shades on the bank, one even wanted to buy me drink from the nearby pub after I suggested she needed a glass of wine to complete her set up, but I was only interested in fishing, much like the 8 other anglers I saw today. I walked on and explored, perhaps too far and caught nothing on this ramble but it was still enjoyable.

So it was I returned to my new found swims on my way back for one last hurrah, I've found bread can sometimes work when you leave it and go back. I feel it can draw new fish in as the small stuff hammer away at any feed distributing particles and the scent, anyhow that's just a theory and whilst it didn't work in the first swim the second one yielded a decent chub first cast on my return

Then a bit of flow came as it does and this coincided with another demon cast (two in a day is pushing it right?) and all hell breaks loose as something big is on, it's steaming along the far bank, clutch screaming and I get it to the middle, I could instantly feel it was a really good fish.

However it was no chub as the most beautiful golden flanks could be seen when I eventually got it off the deck, rod bending double, several sets of walkers passed as I played the battling fish, which made a change from the usual audience you get at busy places like this. I didn't mind this one bit as I finally slid the net under a beautiful common. 

Carp are as rare as hens teeth on this stretch now which is why I had no mat, but some long grass meant the fish went back in the condition it was caught which was pretty much pristine. Ok it wasn't big as carp go but it trumps any pool carp I'll get this year, a canal special. Along with the good chub and all the bream it made the day pretty memorable.

I packed up soon after as I was out of water not realizing I was also down to my last few slices of bread as I would take out a slice at a time keeping the rest fresh in the shade of my bag. The last of the bread went in to feed what I didn't catch, what a job that cheap loaf has done today. Whilst my bag was now light of bread and water I was also dehydrated but still found time to talk to a retired couple on a boat during the long walk home. I'm glad I did as the nice lady kindly refilled my water bottle and I polished most of that off chatting before I bade them farewell thanking their generosity.

By now it was pretty warm, I made it back home around half two all hot and sweaty, sipping the last of my much needed water top-up, after covering five different lock cuts and quite a few miles but it was worth it.

The free water, much like the cheap old bread and the basic gear summed up a day, when the simplistic approach worked wonderfully. It was a great day on the canal.

Christmas in May

 Everything seemed perfect as I arrived at the pond, it was warm but not too hot and a few were already on the sunny side fishing but it was so quiet and peaceful. I had the choice of swims on my favourite side of the pond, this being the first time I have fished there this year as the tree lined bank can be quite cool, today was a perfect day to sit in the shade and watch the world go by so slowly.

My first choice of swim looked like it had roach breeding in the margins as small plops and swirls in the water indicated a smaller species at play so I left that spot well alone, I then walked past a tree that had been pollarded offering the ideal perch for the heron to take flight from, squawking at me for interrupting it's lofty rest. It wasn't long before a decent spot was found (they are all decent on days like this) and my float was in the margins under the rod tip.

I can't recall a year when maggot has worked so well on my club ponds and sure enough I was into carp straight away, fantastic fun on .12 bottom and a size 18, the first of a series of carp broke the mottled shade of the tree, a mix of commons and mirrors with varying colours.

They were really ripping the float under although on a couple of occasions my rod tip being pulled through the rushes was due to my attention being drawn elsewhere, firstly by something jumping into the tree and back down behind me. Of all things I least expected it to be a moorhen, perhaps the arboreal variety, totally on it's own and going up there just because it could I suppose.

Next up were the robins which were a feature for the day, taking my offerings back to their young, one managed to get around 8 maggots in it's beak but the other was entering a Hercule Poirot lookalike contest.

Getting your rod pulled round whilst watching the birds was a laugh, good job I was holding the rod and had the anti reverse off.

I then tried a deeper line in an attempt to get some perch, when I say deeper it was a foot further out and a foot deeper, well two float lengths. I either measure the depth difference between my rod rings or do it in float lengths, that way it's easy to swap depths. I alternated between depths for an hour or so, my deeper line providing some small perch but most fun was had there with the crucians and goldfish.

This one had a fancy tail but it used it to good effect and despite being small tore around like a good 'un.

Meanwhile the robin was tapping out a beat on the tub I use for mixing bread, whacking the maggots on it with a thud thud thud, almost as if it was telling the other Robin to try bread for the last hour for some carp or failing that some greedy gudgeon, so I did.

Whilst changing to a size 12 straight through. I fed a bit of bread on the surface knowing the bird life would feed the swim, too lazy to mix anything up in the tub which was now my namesake's drum. I wondered where the moorhen was (probably up a pear tree somewhere) so had to wait for a lone mallard to break up my slice. I watched as it fed the swim perfectly by the rushes without drawing the other birds in.

With a few freebies fed elsewhere the swim was 'primed' with bread and sure enough lowering the float in.... Whallop!  The rod tip was banging round as a carp ripped the float under, straightened my foot of line and tore through the swim before I had time to say" Ooh that's no gudg..." then finding the net after a barnstorming battle, a really nice mirror.

Next cast was to the 'Mallard Zone' which was now without any bird life but had (I imagined) a lovely bed of bread particles in the margins below, sure enough the float is straight under again and the largest carp of the day is in the net, a parrot nosed brute of a common that barely fitted in the net the club provides.

A chap came round for a chat and politely asked why I took photos of the smaller fish yet put the 'lump' straight back. (It was a lump for this pond I suppose) Realizing that my initial response of "I only take pictures of the pretty ones" sounded mighty pretentious I went on to explain my drawings are the ones on the clubhouse wall.

A good looking fish makes a good drawing and besides they sure look good anyway in the landing net, the last fished summed this up as it was a right looker, one to draw in the future and to catch again too hopefully.

It was mostly carp today save for a smattering of cru's, goldfish, perch and gudgeon including one on bread. The roach must have been the ones getting jiggy as their absence was notable. I walked off for some reason singing the Twelve Days of Christmas song in my head but with the partridge gone and that moorhen up the pear tree instead. 

As I got to the gate a new angler was starting his day as I ended mine. I was glad I wasn't in that corner of the pond as the blossom there was coming down thick and fast, falling on the car which was now covered in a good dusting.

"I'm surprised how quiet it is down here" he said no doubt eager to get started. "Yeah maybe it's because of all this snow coming down" I joked in response pointing to the blossom as we both laughed. When fishing is so relaxed yet eventful every day is like Christmas when you go fishing I thought to myself, we are a lucky bunch indeed.

Now how does that song go again? 🎵....and a moorhen in a pear tree 🎵

A Day On The Pond In Pictures

 It's a bank holiday weekend, it's in the low 20's and I'm in the corner of the pond with the missus. Sitting behind the platform lowering my float by the rushes at the edge of it, what could be more simple?

Bites were instant as I gently lowered my bait into the spot I had been feeding. A small carp oblidged first cast but the next fish was more of a test for my .12 hooklength

A bit of side strain is always helpful, plus it's really fun.

The culprit was a nice coloured common that was missing half it's tail

A few small perch then a couple of gudgeon followed before the fattest of goldfish flopped to the surface, it was as wide as it was deep as it was long.

I picked off a few small but surprisingly energetic bream trying shallow in the middle, nothing was feeding in the deeper water today, among the bream was this decent roach.

By now it was now really warm and in between coffee and lunch breaks a good mix of fish were caught before I introduced a few bits of bread, some on the surface and some in the margins. Changing to a size 12 fishing straight through I spotted this fish close in on the surface so cast to it - notice my bread in the top corner, then my pole float laying flat and my line across the carp's back, that folks is how not to do it.

Despite my iffy presentation it took the bread but what followed was a fresh air strike as the carp got a freebie, rebaiting quickly and casting more deftly I made no mistake the second time around.

I told the missus how ghost carp seem to always be very strong and sure enough after a slow start the fish woke up and went on a couple of clutch screaming runs.

After a fine battle a nice coloured fish was landed which was a fun end to a few hours at the pond.

Of we went home in the mid afternoon heat for a glass of wine(or three) in the garden. Sometimes the simple things are the best on days like these.

A Great Day On Bait I Couldn't Give Away

 I only went to get rid of the last of the maggots. When I shook the tub as I removed them from the fridge I got that old death rattle indicating many had turned to caster, as for the rest well they looked pretty limp. However I've fished with worse so still fancied my chances so off I ventured into the wind. 

All I needed was to find some shelter as the wind was gusting above 40mph, it felt pretty cold in it too but the sun was trying it's best to negate the chill. Unsurprisingly the fishery was empty aside from three hardy souls.

I settled in the most sheltered corner I could find, it was still choppy but nothing compared to the rest of the pond. I fancied trying a heavy pole float and kicked off with a succession of tiny roach in the deeper water, however this was hard work and I really should have been out there on waggler, so before changing I thought I would try the margins. There was actually a lot of tow and at times my float dashed away like it was going downstream on a choppy river. I was sitting behind a large platform, fishing near the edge of it in around two feet of water.

What I found worked well was resting the rod on the edge of the platform with the butt on my legs, a foot of line from the rod tip to the float held it stationary, well sort of, it still danced around in the tow which seemed to ebb and flow but the fish didn't mind as a couple of carp made for a good start, all thoughts of waggler subsided as I concentrated on the tip of my float bobbing through the chop. Bites were coming at perfect intervals, a few roach got in among the carp but I could almost tell when the bigger fish were about when it went quiet for a minute or two. 

I must admit I go to these pools armed with maggots to try and get good perch, the flavouring I put in them seems to attract the old stripeys and it worked today as the strong jagged fight of a fish got me off the platform reaching for the net, I thought this didn't feel like a carp and as spray blew off the water the sergeant flashed it's stripes confirming my quarry was in sight. I slipped the net under a lovely fish that was well over a pound probably closer to two and I was really happy.

Anything unattended today was potential wind fodder although by now my mat was soaking wet and propped under my ruckbag one end to stop it flapping. On stopping for food my lunchbox lid went airborne and on finishing eating, the lunchbox itself followed suit, being chased by me quite comically as it skidded across the large platform. Long net handles come in quite handy in such circumstances I concluded.

My windswept antics failed to put off the fish although landing the fish was hard as I had to play them out from the edge into open water away from the platform's legs, here in the open the wind caught the net which had quite a bend at times but it didn't stop me netting a few more F1's and carp, which sure beat trying to catch tupperware.

Not long after lunch most of my poxy quarter pint of maggots were gone but they were enough to get me over 20lb of carp, perch and roach in three hours. Mind you I was also feeding the robin who's ever so hungry chicks could be heard in the bushes behind me demanding more, no doubt tucked out of the wind better than I was. I chucked the last handful on the platform for them as I was done. So much for not being able to give the bait away, the robins loved it and so did the fish. 

A Rare Chub Roach Hybrid Tops A Short Canal Session

The morning didn't start too well when the first dog decided to slobber over my bag, I wont tell you what this slobber looked like, lets just go for bream slime and you'll get the picture. I only set up here as I thought it would be out of the way, little did I know Slobodan Dogovic would do it's froth over my gear and whatever it had been eating wasn't nice as it stunk. It could be one of those days again I thought as I made my way to a new spot I wanted to try thinking how the day could only get better.

The towpath here was narrow hence setting up round the corner so I had everything out of the way and initially stood as I cast my waggler into the wind and across the flow towards some bushes. It didn't take long to get the first roach and I soon found a spot to sit down out of the way and get some pretty decent redfin action.

After a few nice roach an even better one spun on the surface and sure put a bend in the rod, it was a good roach all day long as I played it, with it's blue flanks and red fins showing and I initially thought it what a cracking long lean roach as I slipped the net under a good fish.

I had a better look and took another picture for reference and in the hand and it started to look more as much chub as roach, I am convinced this is a chub roach hybrid, they aren't that common and it's the first I have had on the canal.

Waves of bleak came in and out and at times made the fishing a bit frustrating as they meant I couldn't fish on the drop as much as I would have liked, but when the bait got below them I was into some good fish, the skimmer bream were surprisingly hard fighting and more quality roach got in on the act.

Even though it was a fairly warm day naturally I was in the coldest windswept spot so I needed to warm the legs up. On taking a stroll I had a good bit of banter with the Canal and River Trust guys who were busy clearing out the lock. Their boat later passed my narrow bit of canal and they let me know they were chugging through with a sound of the horn not befitting a beast of a dredger. I had to tell them that was the most pathetic sound I'd ever heard and we had a laugh. "He's always wanted to do that" said the older guy. I would later pass them further down where the young lad was waist deep in chest waders clearing out a big fallen tree, hard work but they were enjoying it and were in good spirits. However none of this seemed to impress the urban swan.

After lunch I tried a chub spot to finish on as thoughts turned to packing up, I'd had enough by now as I got down there pretty early but no chub were showing. Maybe the Death Star floating down the canal might have had something to do with it.

Either that or it's a large gym ball, another thing for the C&RT guys to clear up, not that they need the exercise. I finished up with around 20 quality roach, some nice skimmers, one good perch and that choach hybrid which wasn't enough to ward off those pesky bleak, but it was a really enjoyable morning on the canal.

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Captains log supplemental - As they say on Star Trek (mixing franchises like some sort of rebel geek)

A couple of weeks later I'm back down the same cut for a couple of hours with half a loaf of old bread, the Death Star was now gone, no doubt to another galaxy far far away, but I set up in the same area. The fishing today couldn't be simpler, wandering down the canal freelining bread in likely looking spots watching the line sink. It was a bit breezy so I added a matchstick as a point of reference through the chop and let the bread do the rest.

The first swim saw nothing but in the second my matchstick seemed to move further than the twitches it was currently getting from the small stuff in the morning sun, unconvinced I struck expecting thin air and was pleasantly surprised by the solid resistance offered in return, as a cracking chub battled it's way to the net. Absolutely beautiful in the low morning sun.

Further along it was all boats either starting up for the day or sleeping till afternoon, that's how they seem to roll. In the clear water near a lock I noticed some black shapes milling about in the sun, I had hoped for a chub and a bream on this short session and achieved my goal when a small bream of around a pound obliged instantly, hardly one of the black shapes I saw earlier but welcome nonetheless.

It was a glorious sunny morning and I was crouching above a lock stalking bream on the surface as if they were carp. Joggers and walkers were going in by in their summer attire and some of them were rather pleasing on the eye. 

Trying not to get distracted I saw one of the black shapes head towards my bread and I was soon into one of the larger fish which twisted and turned going from black to bronze each time it caught the light. Whilst not the strength of the chub I do remember looking at my rod tip bending well as this bream battled away. " Nice one" was the call from the lad working on the lock - the same CRT guys I saw the previous trip, as I slipped the net under a bream that was immaculate one side and had a large fresh slice through it's back on the other.

It felt really floppy in the net so I daren't turn it over, no wonder it could twist so well, it reminded me of those lures you see in shops that are two part, truck and trailer jobbies hinged in the middle. I would say this is far to big for predators but something's had a go, either that or it got sloppy with a boat prop.

I feel I could have got more bream here but the swans turned up hampering my progress, I wasn't too bothered by their interference though, it was what it was and I'd already had a couple of nice fish. 

By now the canal had fully woken up, sirens could be heard from the area where I was previously as I crossed the railway bridge near my home, heading home for lunch after a nice morning's fishing. Sounds like I just cleared off in time although I like to think my articulated bream had jack knifed and caused a five mile tailback on the canal.