A Tench Amongst The Weeds

 After the reality check of the last two weekends I just wanted to keep things simple, get a few silvers under the rod tip on maggot. I arrived back at the tench pond happy to catch anything this time although a 'bar of soap' tench will do or anything that would wet the landing net. People say it's suicidal fishing maggot here but I wanted a few bites and a few fish regardless of size.

I set up in the most open spot I could find given I was going to fish lighter than last time, far away from the snaggy lillies to give myself a fighting chance should I hook anything willing to test the 3lb bottom I was to use today, going back to basics rather than the heavy stuff. It didn't take long to rack up a good tally of rudd, roach, perch and bream, for some reason (probably cormorants) none of these species grow to any size here but it was fun catching them to 6oz

More impressive was the fact that I actually got through them, well kind of, I got the bait on the deck and picked up fish mostly on the bottom with the odd midwater intercept, it was no longer the pole float dashing away and boils on the surface that I started with. It still was a fish a chuck though but I didn't that mind one bit.

I was getting close to packing up and in the process of drying out my gear that was on the wet grass all morning when a few bubbles turned up, this was the second time this happened so this time I shallowed up a touch and fished closer in dropping the pole float amongst them. Whilst doing this a chap turned up and stood next to me, the first person I had seen all day, the bubbles stopped.

But then....

The float shot under and tore across the pond, the rod bent well. Then I swear the chap asked if it was a roach, maybe I was hearing things but I said "Tench" as It was that unmistakable fight as it edged further and further across the pond. The chap then asked if there was any weed under the water, he was about to find out. I knew it was growing rapidly in this weather and I could feel it's weight as the tench crept further into it. Then it stopped, eventually, like one of those tractor pull events you see in the U.S. although there wasn't much stopping power in my 3lb line, but combined with the weed there was enough. Everything went dead weight, I feared the fish was off given there wasn't the token tail swish or head shake. I ended up dragging a massive clump of weed but there it was like a bar of gold rather than a bar of soap behind it all, lit up in the sun. I knew one kick and it would be goodbye and farewell but everything came ever so slowly to the net. The chap then said it was a carp before saying it wasn't in the net when I went for the scoop, I backed my judgement fully and was rewarded with a paddle tail just visible in the net as I lifted the heavy weight of weed and fish at the spreader.

I joked I'll take 10lb for the fish if I include the weed and remarked that it was like unwrapping a present as I pulled weed out in clumps eager to see the fish. Then a beautiful tench revealed itself in the mottled sun under the trees, a glorious sight if ever there is one. The fish here always seem to be lookers and this was no exception. It was a present all right, a mix of dark green and gold, just perfect.

Here's the weed, the poor person who fishes here next is going to think I've raked the swim.

I packed up not long after and looked at my tally of 17 roach, 14 rudd, 32 perch, 15 bream and 1 tench, a really good 4 hour session with loads of fish with one good one at the end. It beat going all in for big fish and failing although I do know I was fortunate, but that makes it more special. Soon the weed will be far too dense for this approach but for today it was ok and this trip was just what I needed.

Poor Fishing But Perfect Perspective

 Perspective is a funny thing, it's almost something you can't obtain unless it is thrust upon you, to have it you must suffer both highs and lows, to see things deeper and to put yourself in another's shoes, be it someone else or the person you once were in the place you once was. I am of course talking fishing related perspective and there's nothing like this pastime to ask questions of you on a regular basis.

The first of two trips to report was on the bank holiday, this saw a long awaited trip down the docks for a bit of sea dangling. Ok I knew the start of May was probably a bit too early but I hoped to winkle out a small bass or blenny. A long road trip for a tiny sea species is less mad than it sounds given I hadn't been down the coast to wet a line since before Covid, the missus was up for it so that road trip beckoned.

The docks looked still and lifeless when I arrived and no one else was fishing on what was a cloudy day forecast to brighten up later. I fed some mashed bread and the surface erupted as many tiny fish hammered the white stuff and with that moment the docks came to life. I even jubilantly stated that I won't blank today which as we all know is probably the most stupid thing any angler can say, some people never learn.

I was regretting my words two hours into fishing without a fish but with many a bite, these fish were too small to hook as they looked around the size of minnows with the odd slightly larger fish in there. Usually even the smallest bass will wolf down a bit of bread here on a size 12 (a small hook by sea standards) but these fish were dragging the bread around under the surface and just sucking at it. Even changing to a size 18 to get a sand smelt didn't work so I'll never know what these tiddlers were. 

I then watched a shoal of mullet sulking around just below the surface, these fish seem pretty impossible to catch here when they first enter the docks, from what I've both seen and heard but it's nice to see them turn up.

Then the first other angler of the day arrived and we had a good chat and a laugh with us both having the same mentality of any fish will do. The guy had such enthusiasm having taken up fishing during Covid and had only fished these docks with his carp rod set up, which to be fair was pretty decent and whoever had had given him advice had done a decent job. I then pointed him in the direction of a good spot where they catch on cage feeder as he was also fishing bread. The folly of me giving someone advice regarding sea fishing was negated when I saw him bend into a small bass, it was however the only fish I saw anyone catch that day.

Boats came and went as did other anglers all catching nothing like me, the newbie angler packed up and I informed him he was the only one to catch which he put down as a fluke of the bass taking his bread first cast but there you go, it happens and you have to make the most of it, he did and was over the moon and I couldn't blame him one bit. His enthusiasm was the highlight of the day as was me and the wife stopping off at a nice pub before the drive home, the sun had finally come out and fresh sea air was in the lungs, the fish were missing for me but that's sea fishing for you.

The next weekend I'm off down the tench pond with the goal to sit there and catch maybe one tench and rest the arm a bit, it had been a chilly night but It seems everyone is catching them now, I was therefore surprised to see the pond devoid of anglers although the cold night and the bright sunshine may have made the wise stay home, the fish certainly stayed away again and to cut a short story even shorter I caught nothing on a variety of baits in a couple of spots.

I then dragged the wife round the corner to the bream pond featured in the last blog entry, I knew here my bread attack would get plenty of bites - Wrong again!  This time the float wasn't getting zipped away, there were no bream bubbles and even the carp in the upper layers were ever so cagey with half hearted, infrequent takes of bread from the surface. The difference a few weeks can make this time of year.

There was a lot of pressure on the little pond to be fair, two had packed up already and another two were giving the whole area a running commentary of what carp were where. Then others stopped near why I was fishing as if to point them out by counting them. This must be what I look and sound like when I'm going "Ooh there's some mullet" down the coast, although you would think seeing carp in a pool stocked with carp wouldn't be such an unusual event.

By now I am trying to catch one of these carp off the top just to catch something. I had gone full circle in going for catch the fish I am often trying to avoid, to make matters worse one of the noisy fellas just caught a nice bream on his carp set up. I was also fishing too heavy for my liking using 6lb line as I started on the snaggy tench pond, the difference between floater fishing with 6lb and 4lb line is chalk and cheese both in presentation and casting distance, It was however gloriously sunny and I by now was too lazy to change.

Another couple of anglers then turned up, one of whom had pretty severe disabilities which put into perspective my painful arm which of course I haven't mentioned in every blog post since February. I then said to the missus I'd rather he caught a fish than me if one of us were to blank, much like with the enthusiastic lad down the coast last time. Seeing others catch can be as fulfilling as catching yourself although I'll never know if they caught or not as they disappeared around the corner choosing a spot opposite the noisy pair, even the bird life stayed well away.

Finally I slid the net under a 5lb common then an even smaller mirror before packing up, both really tatty fish which left me wondering why people target then so much, but at the same time I was grateful that they were there for me to catch today. It was hard to get perspective with my own contradiction, especially with a two carp day being deemed poor given I had blanked previously, I should have been over the moon to get two off the top last knockings but even that catch was taken for granted, maybe another blank would have served me better as I packed up rather than try for a third. 

I know the next trip will be with a small hook and a pint of reds fishing in the margins just see what mix of the unknown comes along, this of course will negate any pain in my arm, and will see me catch loads. Of course neither could well happen, I'll likely be plagued by tiny roach, be popping painkillers by midday and be opposite the noisy brigade again. Hopefully however I'll draw from the last few trips and get a bit more perspective to make the day more positive, who knows? I sure don't.

Do I Need Carp When The Bream Are Like That?

 The tench pond looked cold and foreboding with just one angler there who was wisely tucked away in the only sheltered corner. It's funny how your preconceived plans of where you were going to fish go out the window on inspection of a water. A northerly wind blowing through the woods into my face and the surface swirling around were enough for a change of plan, the sun dipping in made going back to the previously sunlit corner of the other pond I passed a no brainer.

I had heard of a 'big bream' coming out of this tiny pond recently and it's amazing how these little snippets of information log in the memory banks permanently, how big? I didn't hear, but any nice bream would do me, failing that a morning in the sun out of the wind and a few other fish would do nicely.

My corner of the this pond was sheltered and sunny for the most part early on, a quick talk to the only chap opposite revealed his one carp early doors, he was fishing a float that looked like a large cube of plastic, reminding me of a plastic container my dad used to use to put soap in, I didn't judge him as I must look strange trying out some of my ideas at times. I set up and quickly plumbed the depth to reveal five feet under the rod tip, there was no need to fish far out with the water so well up and besides I was going to try fishing left handed again.

Fishing single maggot under a pole float right under the rod tip saw bites instantly before I awkwardly unhooked a perch that was swung in with not enough line like a newbie, rather than bore you with more stories of my bad good arm I'll cut to the chase of switching back to my right hand and fishing with it as normal dosed up with painkillers. I'm glad I did as the next bite went solid and slow, it was no carp but felt good, it sure beat staying at home.

Now bream are one of those fish much like large roach and perch that look huge in the water, how many times have you had a bream turn on the surface only to be greeted with a fish that would barely top 3lb ringing wet? This fish looked massive as I squinted through the sun as it spun on top, kicking up spray that glistened like diamonds. With my light(ish) compromise set up I didn't want it flapping all the way to the net, so I let it have a little line and unlike the standard size bream it took it and took it well, a slow solid fight on light enough line left me wondering why some people don't like bream, I liked this one, very plump, very fit and good to look at in the sun weighing in at 5lb 11oz

I was off to a flyer but my feeding bought the rudd and roach in numbers that made my float settling a thing of the past, even changing to a size 12 hook with a bunch of maggots saw the float dashing off before I could get my bait to bream territory, by now every hookbait was in rudd territory.

I changed to bread having bought a loaf of Sainsbury's cheapest (twice the price of last year) and introduced a few bits of bread some of which were gulped by a carp in the margins, this gave me a back up if the rudd and roach were also a problem on the bread, although I couldn't resist winkling out that fish off the top, a ghost koi of around 4lb, a sad looking parrot nosed fish that had a tiny hole for a mouth.

Now that my carp distraction had gone I concentrated on the float line, it also served a purpose of removing one of the feeding carp from the swim with the idea that the bream would return if the carp are cagey, a fun way of solving a problem. It didn't work as a 3lb common was caught next under the rod tip before I had a break for coffee. The carp were hurting my arm but I found by holding the rod against my midriff I could play the fish with my weak arm with the clutch set right, it looked weird but served a purpose.

I then dug out the bread punch as it gets more bites, using a 10mm one is the same as a small bit of bread but it just works better. A brief rest may have also worked as had the bread I fed which lets face bream absolutely adore. Once more I was into that slow plodding fight however this time It erupted on the surface as the bream took off like they sometimes do and almost landed on the bank as I was fishing so close in, this fish wasn't as fat but seemed deeper as it filled the net and I was over the moon.

Now I don't get many good bream and I'm not ashamed to admit my pb is rather modest, maybe because I'm always fishing float and usually close in on small ponds and mostly on fast shallow rivers during the season, they sure don't grow this size on my local canal, either way it had me looking on my phone to see if it was a pb, it wasn't as a Thames weir pool provided my with one larger back in the day when I had hair but was still a lovely fish for such a tiny pond at 6lb 5oz.

By now the angler opposite was replaced by Mallet Man, who lived up to his name by hammering at everything, first a bank stick, then a second bank stick before where his umbrella fitted to his chair. I was going to say his setting up was noisy but meticulous but that wasn't the case as his umbrella took off in a gust along with his chair and deposited it back near his car which was right behind the swim. In the time it took him to set up I had landed and weighed that bream and caught two more carp. 

Bang went the mallet once more as I stopped for lunch.

A few on the main lake were catching and several came round for a quick chat whilst stretching their legs, after I while I got tired of folk asking about the carp when I was more excited about the bream, so when the second guy told me where the carp were sunning themselves to the left of me I just nodded and smiled having caught one there earlier. I felt like saying do I need 4lb carp when the bream are like that? But refrained of course, it's all a bit of fun. Sadly the tench angler also came round from the other pond who was blanking, confirming I made the right choice just by looking for somewhere comfortable, he did have the whole pond to himself though with just the company of the wildlife, no mallets just mallards.. 

A couple of hours passed with quick rudd dips of the float keeping me occupied but also frustrated, with plenty of thin air strikes and a swirling wind that bought the willow that was ever so close to my rod tip into play. Sticking with the bread bought the odd carp and a small bream of around a pound that had a beautiful blue sheen and perfect scales, I should have photographed it really but I'm a specimen angler now and only take pics of the slabs - I am joking of course.

There was time for one last bream, once again on the punched bread, once again the slow heavy pull was unmistakable with everything so close in under the rod tip, it really was a lot of fun, by now it was cold and grey and the wind was getting round so this was one last hurrah. I slipped the net under a fish which was bang on 6lb to finish the day.

As I packed up Mallet Man was finally into a fish which he landed awkwardly with not enough line out much like me with my perch earlier, I wondered if he was fishing left handed too. Tench guy had walked by having blanked and some hardly souls were still on the main lake having fun with their carp quarry in the cold wind, I left them to it so as to beat the school run. 

I probably won't tell them where the bream are though as I may get the odd strange look.

An Interesting Experiment

 I thought I'd try something out of necessity, the last few trips have been hard as the pain of my Angler's Elbow* hasn't abated. The fishing has been pretty good on the ponds of late but I feel I've lost fish I shouldn't have, it's amazing how much power you have in your good arm compared to the other. Oh and if anyone says you'll get used to fishing the other way round, you won't, I tried it last time and lasted ten minutes, ok maybe I should have tried longer but it felt awful, didn't help the pain and was frustrating bordering on the comical, I'm about as good as fishing ambidextrous as I am at spelling the word I concluded. 

Thinking of ways around this made me remember fishing as a kid on rivers like the upper Lea, Gade and Beane, tying the line to the bottom ring (no doubt after a stupid tangle by the reel) and fishing for the last hour or so for dace and small chub, with a lightness of tackle and crispness of the fight that made everything seem large, I wondered if I could use something similar on ponds where the carp don't go that big.

So here's the plan, I'm going to fish an old rod with no reel as it will be ultralight to hold with either hand, the line will be threaded through the opposite way and connected to a length of pole elastic which is tied to the rod butt, this will be my shock absorber for larger fish, but I still want the crispness of rod and line for silvers so will hold the line when playing them. My thinking is it will be similar to the makeshift set up I used on those rivers as a kid, much like fishing a whip, but with the bend of a rod and the elastic of a pole for larger fish.

I won't need to cast far (I never do anyway) and hopefully any carp will potter about in close quarters like they usually do. The safety is the elastic which is much heavier than I need just in case and also fishing a small fine wire hook which will should bend out before any kit gets snapped off, failing that there's 3lb bottom, 4,4lb mainline and the 9-11 rated elastic.

Here's the connection between elastic and line, I used a standard dacron connector the way pole anglers do after watching several Youtube clips, but I removed the stop bead and used a couple of thin pieces of silicon tubing so that the connector can pass through the rod rings smoothly.

I started fishing in a quiet corner of the pond and thankfully there was no one else there to see me make a twat of myself, the weather wasn't ideal with a sharp wind and it felt pretty cold when the sun dipped in, all pre loaded excuses for the inevitable failure even if in my mind it could work, the new margin rod whippy pole thingy (I'm still working on a catchy name) would be on everyone's shopping list and it would be a solution for those in pain who can't hold a heavy rod or pole all day. 

Yeah right.

The weird thing is it did actually work, my tiny pole float was swung out, I then pulled the line in with my hand like a fly angler until I had no slack, mending any surface bow, if anything I could have had less line tied as I had more than enough to swing fish in and a bit too much for where I was fishing. Bites came from the off with the customary shyness for this time of year, the float went under I struck each time whilst holding the line as a few roach put a crisp bend in the rod. I soon got into a rhythm.

I was conscious of having line getting tangled by my feet so placed a second mat there and I think this would be negated by having around two feet less line but the test would come when I hooked something bigger than roach. I may need that extra line I thought.

If the roach were fun the f1's were another level, although none got even close to stretching that elastic which left me wondering if there's more control gained by feeding the line in and out by hand with a fish on, they weren't big though but a lot of fun.

I wanted a test of a larger carp and it came in the shape of a good one, however the unmistakable feeling of a foul hooked fish is there no matter how you fish and after a brief battle the hook pulled from the fin. I did turn it several times and stopped a foul hooker going into the middle which was kind of impressive even if it didn't prove the theory. Sadly it was the only test of the day, although getting those f1's and bream was direct and fun, why do these gaunt looking bream always look so big in the water?

I had hoped for some nice perch but only a few small ones showed, the roach action was non stop but a bit frustrating as getting through small ones to the better fish was a problem, changing more to on the drop a few netters succumbed and once more gave me that crisp bend in the rod I wanted.

I packed up early to beat the rain as it got really cold, finishing with 30 roach, 5 f1's, 2 perch, 2 bream and a rudd in around three hours although it seemed half of that was setting up, I did bump a few and had a couple of foul hookers but that can happen anyway, I didn't get snapped up and felt in control of all the fish.

The verdict on this experiment? Well it worked surprisingly well and yet it didn't work the way I wanted it to. It caught fish well and looked like it would handle the larger fish just as well as my usual rod and line set up, however I would have caught the same amount on rod and line of that I am pretty sure. Where it failed was it was just as painful fishing this way despite being lighter, I think it was because I was holding the rod along with the line instead of resting it on my leg and that I still played every fish with my bad arm despite using a set up that could be used by my left hand, force of habit I suppose.

It's probably not a style I'll try again, but it was fun experimenting, although I know with a bit of fine tuning it would work better, perhaps on a warm sunny day just whittling out a few fish for fun, who knows. However The Beast Thruster Margin Pole Rod Whip Carbon X F1 is unlikely to feature on Dragon's Den soon.

* They've got Tennis Elbow and even Golfer's Elbow so lets have Angler's Elbow. After chatting to quite a few online sufferers it seems it's quite common in the rod arm. More painful than you would think and rather persistent. I would be quite cautious if you feel a little niggle in your arm at any stage like I did as it kind of lets you know it's coming. Before long you may be in pain and thinking up wacky inventions.

A Painful Day Down The River

 It had all started so well, a friendly wave from another driver with the same make and colour car as me en route and a nice chat to some walkers as I made my way from the car to the river, It was very cold with a brisk northerly wind and the river was low and clear but it was good to be out.

Then I got my rod out only to find the tip broken off, my heart sank, this has never happened before in all my years fishing but was bound to one day, today was that day. I always imagined cracking off a tip on one of the many tiny overgrown rivers I fish but not like this, it almost felt unfair. The drawbacks of being a one rod angler came to the fore as I threaded my sorry looking rod.

I set up in a likely looking area and caught nothing so moved to an old favourite swim to find trees down and overhanging making the whole spot unfishable, despondant I walked back only to see a Muntjac drinking at the water's edge, I must have just walked past it and we stared at each other until I carried on determined to just get a fish before sulking back home.

Another spot was found as I had the whole stretch to myself but fishing with a rod tip missing felt like drawing with a blunt pencil, painting with a frayed brush. We take for granted the art of fishing but if something's not right you sure can feel the difference. I was unable to spear my float under the overhang like normal, paying out line felt weird and every now and the the line would loop horribly round the bit of tip left protruding. 

I sat on the deck in the mud to get out of the wind when I finally got a bite it took me a bit unawares  as I hooked a chub and it snapped me, my float drifting off sorrily downstream, then I hooked another determined not to let this one head for the snags but it bent the hook back as it disappeared through the branches of a sunken tree. I now questioned my hook pattern as the new version of them seems to bend more, as well as wondering if the rod tip made a difference, I felt like crying.

I moved slightly downstream away from the tree, only a few feet, then I upped the line, put on a stronger hook and went for a bit of hit and hold, not usually my style but in the clear water these chub were going like beasts for the snags of which there were many in a swim the width of an unbroken rod.

My luck then turned somewhat as I powered the next chub away from the tree, then away from the rushes and slipped the net under a nice fish before noticing the strangest of hook holds. Somehow I had managed with my size 18 to bizarrely get through the eye of someone else's size 10, it was one of those days already.

With a flukey fish under my belt at last I was able to enjoy the scenery a bit more as the sun popped out for just ten minutes, I still had the place to myself but everything joined me as I hunkered down low to the ground. Goldfinches were swapped for long taileds and the odd blue tit, before an egret drifted across the flood meadow making a funny deep noise, a contrast to the pheasants behind me in the grass which were in full view and good voice, a kingfisher zoomed down the river before seeing me and aborting across the rushes and of course I was joined by two robins on the feed.

The robins were much better than I at navigating the mud as I continued, losing yet another chub as I scrambled across slipping and sliding before cursing once more, the fish were giving me a beating and it wasn't good. Some of it was down to my rod but also my arm which was now in agony, I think it's tennis elbow but it felt painful as a break and has been going on for a while, I popped another painkiller like last time and set up 6lb line to avoid another snap off.

This certainly gave my arm a rest as nothing happened on gear which felt like rope, no doubt it looked like rope to a shoal of chub in a swim that's heavily fished, In the clear water I didn't get a touch, the feeling also of fishing so heavy with a broken rod wasn't good. I went back to 4lb and got bites straight away, managing to bully in two more lovely chub, good ones too.

I should have packed up then as my arm was in serious pain, the pill I took having little to no effect, but I fished on losing two more, one of which I had beat before it found a snag under my feet, which left me with nothing to blame but myself. Credit to these fish they were twice as strong as those on the Severn a week ago, seeing that snag in the gin clear water there wasn't much stopping them getting into it. I finished with three good chub and saw a whole heap of wildlife which should be a good day but the lost fish ratio was far too high, the pain in my arm far too great and I packed up on a low with my trusty rod of the last ten years in four pieces not three.

If that was the last trip of the season it certainly wasn't dull I suppose.

Winter Chubbing on The Severn

At last my first winter trip to The Severn as in the past something has always come up to thwart that three hour journey, although I didn't get up there at all last year so imagine my excitement on arriving at a beautiful looking river on a cloudy February morning, not early morning mind, I can't warp time but good things come to those who wait.

I was under no illusion that things could be hard but optimistic that it could also be the opposite, a middle ground of a few dace and enough bites to keep that float running through with gusto was my mindset as I donned the chest waders, took out my rod, net and rucksack and ventured up river with a spring in my step, even though it didn't quite feel as though spring was in the air.

There were a few people there in the usual spots by the car park but once I passed them it was wonderfully peaceful save for the cackle from the odd pheasant in the meadow behind, the river itself looked great with a perfect bit of flow, a touch of colour and there was no wind, I knew I had to catch today, if not it would really put a dampener on any future winter road trips here.

I set up in a spot that screamed fish but naturally was really awkward, with submerged trees either side and a slippery bank to perch on. I used the 4no4 stick from a few trips back that took almost double and run it along a crease to where the water slowed, with nothing to show for the first half hour I was about to move on, when the float went under and the most wonderful thud of something heavy on the end rewarded me for my 'three more casts' rule when roving. This fish powering upstream was what I came for, a magical feeling until I noticed the confines of the swim were now well in play, I bullied it across as much as I could with a 3lb hooklength and held firm as it tried to get into the tree upstream, choosing option B from the appetizing snag menu, the result was my size 18 hook almost bent straight but thankfully after I had slid the net under the culprit, a stunning scale perfect chub bang on 5lb and a wonderful start.

I bent my hook back into shape and persisted a little longer here to no avail before the awkwardness of the swim and the thought of falling in outweighed the need to catch another, plus I wanted to try somewhere faster, to explore further. I went upstream and settled on a more comfortable swim, a pacy 4-5 foot deep run pushing through well, the tip of my float barely visible among the ripples, froth and reflection on the water's surface, however it didn't take me long to find out what was below. 

The float went under right at the bottom of the swim no doubt where my loosefeed was finally getting down, once again another chub although despite being much smaller at around 2-3lb it took longer to bring up through the fast water, a slow controlled battle unlike the ones you get near snags, another nice looking fish.

I then had better one at around 4lb before stopping to put a new hook on as it was bending every time with the first three chub, whilst this was handy when hooking submerged rocks of which I knew there were plenty it was an accident waiting to happen with the fish. With a new hook on another couple of good chub took the tally to five before lunch was needed, it was a fun morning's fishing which surpassed my expectations.

From my vantage point (a mound of dry grass as I forgot my stool) I watched as the mallards proceeded in diving for my bait, there's no way they could find my maggots I thought and sure enough they kept popping up with what looked like donkey choker pellets or large boilies off the bottom, worked into feeding by my actions and finding something else.

My lunch was gobbled down as quickly as the mallards had theirs as I was eager to get back fishing. Then the sun came out for half an hour, the water twinkled and looked magical although this meant I could barely see my float at all and there was a good ten metres of trot where the eyes were shielded, I still managed another nice chub which I didn't weigh but looked around 5lb like the first.

I should have waited to have lunch then as the sun made things too hard, but it was a good time to just sit down and have a rest, my arm was aching as it turns out tennis elbow is actually quite painful. I popped a painkiller and watched the birds do their thing, nothing out of the ordinary just the usual suspects you get in the garden, breaking the silence which is usually the job of the steam trains which don't run this time of year, the tracks opposite me in full view laying eerily dormant. 

With the cloud cover returning I carried on and finally had something smaller which had me wondering what it was, expecting a small chub but hoping for a dace the compromise was a more than welcome roach.

Whilst it was the only roach of the day it does show they can handle the fast water in winter if they want to. I then finally got my dace, a large but tatty looking thing, plus a bleak before the last couple of hard fighting chub, also good fish which took the tally to eight chevins, far exceeding my expectations.

With time now pushing on and a good half hour without a bite I made my way back to the car park where I pottered about for a few more silvers in a shallow swim before finishing with a little gudgeon.

It was another cracking day's fishing, with typical February chub action, I managed not to lose a single fish (somehow) and I was so glad to have done well on the long awaited winter trip here, doing the sort of trotting with small hook and single maggot that you can't really do in summer here due to small dace and bleak, it's opened up a new chapter in exploring this river and a new option for when the conditions align to be perfect, as when that happens in fishing and things go well it's a marriage made in heaven.

It was my first winter trip to The Severn and it will stay in the memory for a while, hopefully it won't be the last.

Grayling Trip Part 2

 I was eager to do a bit more grayling fishing but this time on a different stretch, I figured it would be harder, not just because the river was much lower but also it was a new section, a streamier narrow stretch which split into several carriers. I arrived late morning and was graced with bright February sun following an overnight frost, it was a good day to be out to catch a few fish and find new swims, there's nothing like exploring a new bit of river.

I walked to the top end of the fishery, by fishery I mean accessible river as this stretch like the one a few weeks back was free fishing in a park, It always seems wrong roving upstream so I headed straight to the top to rove back down, thinking "That looks good" more than a number of times as I passed swims, en route to setting up by a fence that signaled 'None shall pass further' 

A fox stared at me from the rushes opposite as I set up, golden red in the sun it looked amazing, it must have been having a drink when I got there, I reached for my camera slowly as we made eye contact before it unsurprisingly continued it's journey just as I started mine.

The bottom of the river was visible everywhere and the first few casts were fruitless until I spotted a lone grayling drifting about, naturally I tried for it and I got the fish feeding only to find the obliging culprits were actually trout, I had two but the grayling I thought I saw proved elusive so on I went downstream questioning my eyesight.

In the next spot I waded out and caught yet another trout before venturing further down and realizing something wasn't right, I'd only left my landing net in the previous spot, I can't remember ever doing that before and here it is standing proud like some totem pole to numptyness, I greeted it like and old friend relieved it was still there.

I had come grayling fishing but was getting 'trouted out' if there is such a term but I settled in a dreamy run that looked like it had been designed by an angler, the water gushed shallow under a bridge and there was the typical far bank eddy running under a tree. My stick float trundled along the crease perfectly, finally the first grayling was caught and I was a happy bunny, I knew it would be hard work today so rewards are relative, then a few casts later there was another grayling and I slipped it back in the sun and everything was just right, just perfect.

With the sun behind me I caught a mix of trout and grayling, some down the bottom and sometimes right under the rod tip in the clear water, they must have been able to see me as my shadow was cast long across the clear water from the low sun behind but it didn't stop them feeding.. 

A lady then stopped on the bridge above and threw some bread in, she knew her fishing and we had a brief chat after she asked what I had caught, then the surface erupted with small trout taking the bread in spots where there really shouldn't be fish, trout are the punk rockers of the fish world, no wonder I was having trouble getting through them as they surfaced in the sun, however they still carried on taking my single red maggot despite also having a liking for the floating bread. 

I then stopped for my own bakery produce in the park on what was now a lazy sunny day as a wagtail bobbed up and down on a fallen tree nearby with much more energy than I had. I took a moment to see what those missed calls were about on my phone, took time to look around, took in some calories and cracked on.

It then clouded up a bit but didn't feel cold as I continued downstream but many of the spots I passed were unfishable due to deep water on the nearside and waterlogged rushes, throw in some low trees and you get the picture. In one area the flow was too fast to bring a fish up with the gear I was using and the only spot I could get to meant an upstream cast, not easy in fast boily water but I managed a couple of fish there. Despite being denied by other overgrown fishy looking spots I must admit I do love that a river that can be too wild and feisty even when running low. 

I picked up a few grayling here and there and yet more trout before losing a hook in one of those precarious swims, with the schools about to come out I decided to call it a day early and head back for a glass (or two) of red wine. I stopped on the bridge and looked back one last time.

It was a quite a hard session but my net was wet which is always a good thing even though trout won the day, all the fish were a decent size but nothing over a pound, they all looked like works of art when illuminated in the sun. I finished on 15 trout and 13 grayling in total. 

That will be it for the grayling this year although I think I may have said that last time.