Cormorants and canoes

Thursday 26 December 2019. River Weaver (0.85m and dropping).

Another few hours on boxing day...

move

I rocked up at 14 bells, started in the same two swims I finished in on Xmas eve, nada.

In the first 30 minutes I had a mink, a goosander and a cormorant all go through the swim (not together, that would be a bit too much). Then a 'know all' got me, telling me I was too late 'as a cormorant had been through'.. ..

I wasn't happy with the state of my flake in the first two swims, too old, too flakey, not right, so I changed rig slightly and used crust thereafter (for the first time in ages it has to be said). Lo and behold in my third swim, the witching hour came at 15.15 and I got a chub right on time. Fifteen minutes later I got another. Nothing amazing, 2lb+ each, but happy enough.

I had one more bite which I missed and reckon I could have mustered out another few fish but decided to bimble on downstream to an 'old banker' that has in recent years turned to sh*te. I fished on until 5, nice and warm (although a tad wet) suffice to say, the 'old banker' is still sh*te.

Sunday 29th December 2019. River Weaver (0.783 and falling).

A few more hours this afternoon, a bit of an experiment as much as anything. Sorted myself a new camera, so had a play with that. Scaled the amount of terminal gear down, had a play with the interchangeable feeders/leads that Preston have introduced and decided to try a few swims I rarely fish.

snags

River still dropping, I didn’t arrive until 2-ish so in reality it was only 2 hours fishing, but as we know you catch fook all sat in the ‘ouse.

First swim is a deep hole. I can’t remember catching a fish from there, I do remember losing tackle. Well I didn’t remember until reeling in from my first cast which saw me leave a hooklink in an unseen snag. “I remember now.”

Now it’s fair to say I’ve been a right moaning twunt lately, and today, there were loads of people out. It was a mild day, a Sunday afternoon, Xmas week, goodwill to all. Forgive and forget. I didn’t bargain for a bloke in a canoe though, yet that’s what happened. Payback for me being such a miserable tit. 

Payback

After a few more half-hearted casts I moved down to the railway bridge swim, where it was miles too busy, far too many people, too many dogs, so after 5 minutes there and I was on my toes once again.

Thereafter I revisited the shit banker swim that I finished up in on Boxing day. I do sometimes feel I have a point to prove with certain swims, regardless, with an hour or so left I opted to fish mid-river, using a small cage feeder containing hempy bread mash, with flake or dendra on the hook. It’s fair to say the fish weren’t going mad, but second cast I did miss a bite, and the third cast I hooked into a fish which gave a good account of itself, and in fact, turned out to be one of the resident bream of about 3lb. I might just have a pop for these one day.

slab

Just before dark I had a chub near 3lb, however the hook had passed clean through its lip and became embedded in the net. So after snapping off I called it a day.

Twenty Four

Tuesday 24th December 2019. River Weaver (0.89m and dropping).

The Annual xmas eve Weaver session started at 13 bells. Earlier that morning I’d done the usual recce with the Airedale and happened across another upper Weaver regular, ‘Stu’, who is a decent angler. He’d been there since sparrow’s fart, fishing the pole with maggot, tight to the far bank, and had sod all. So when I rocked up 3 hours later at 1pm expecting him to have at least gotten something, it was a bit of a kick in the nads to find out he’d still not had a sniff.

We chewed the fat over the state of the river, and the lack of small fish in particular before I settled in 100 yards above him. My plan being to move every 20 minutes or so until I found the fish. I had some dendras that had seen better days, also some lobs, and decided to mince these and mix them with dead maggots and hemp, and then introduce them through a small feeder with lob on the hook. Lots of wormy, hempy, maggoty goodness. First swim gave me nothing, I moved below Stu (who had since had his one and only chub) into a banker swim some 50 yards below him.

Stu’s swim is a popular swim, next to a footbridge, sadly, e-v-e-r-y- -s-i-n-g-l-e- -f-e-c-k-e-r who crosses said bridge wants to ask the usual mundane sh*te. “Have you caught anything?” “Do you eat them?” …and so on. Christ, it’s incessant. Unless it’s peeing down I usually avoid the swim like the plague for those very reasons. However today is worse. Much, much worse. The xmas eve dad banterists are out in full force for their yearly walk. Surrounded by their scabby offspring, who laugh at every, f**kwitted word whilst throwing any old sh*te they can find into the river. One particular gobby nobhead booms out loud to Stu “I’ll place an order for 2 salmon and a trout….HA HA HA HA.“ I hope he gets dysentery.

Thankfully my banker swim can only be approached by circumnavigating 20 metres of mud and a nasty slope, so the feckers steer well clear. Swinging a lobworm under a nearside tree, I should have had something, anything, in the way of a bite or an indication, but again, not so much as a hint of a fish. Twenty minutes later and I move again, to yet another banker, this being the other side of the tree where there is a lovely crease and a large slack. Again, aside from one tentative pluck, nothing on the worm/mush combo.

The witching hour of three fifteen comes and goes and still nothing. The wormy approach isn’t working, so I change my approach and go onto bread. I have a hunch and guess the fish have backed off the feed so I cast 15 metres further downstream and within minutes I land a chub, the bullshitometer guesses it’s over 3. I’m officially ace again.

Next cast, ditto, but this time it’s a bigger fish. Not long, but a proper stocky fella. Into the bag and the scales say 4lb 1 oz, my first 4 pounder off the river in probably 5 years, ferry mucking xmas. Two more casts and 2 more chub followed, another three+ and one of a pound and a half or so.

At 1630 I call it a day, the Nantwich bell ringers are in full flow I’ve had four fish in the last 45 minutes or so including a very rare four pounder and life is good. The walk back to the car is lovely, strangers wishing each other merry xmas, the spirit of the season is in the air, and I have a genuine feeling of goodwill to all men. Except for that gobby twot, whom I genuinely hope is currently shitting a hedgehog.

Brown

Sunday 1^st December 2019. River Weaver.

Brown

Well what a day that was. Arrived 1330, decided to take 2 rods (thereby totally contradicting myself from yesterday) if only so that I could fish on after dark, and tbh, after a recce in the a.m. I had decided to stay put in one swim as it looked spot on, despite a more severe frost than the previous day.

Bright sunlight on arrival, I fed the centre of the river, hoping to pull fish away from far bank trees and snags. Mashed bread and hemp were plopped in regularly, with the float doing its thing, except that is, actually going under.

1515 often signals the first bite when float fishing in winter, but today was one of those exceptions. I had a drop with the leger rod, to see if they wanted it still, but couldn’t get a bite there either. I took the faithful Fuji out for a few dusk shots, but the battery was dead, hasn’t been the same since I got back from ‘Nam, literally, so a new camera is now on the list.

Back onto the float for dusk, and during the half-light everything seemed to slow down, it was one of those weird dusks, where everything turned to be monochrome brown, not light but not dark, just eerie brown. Still, the float was running through perfectly, so surely it was just a matter of time?

Sadly not.

With the light ‘gone’ it was time to touch leger for the last half hour or so. Pointing my rod skywards enabled me to also pick out the silhouette of the tip against the darkening sky, but still it refused to budge.

1700 hours and I was wishing I’d put the Skeetex boots on, my feet were very cold. I fumbled around looking for the head torch, nope. Double checked all pockets, still couldn’t find it. Something else to go on the list, I usually have a spare, not tonight.

Wrapping up 2 rods in sub-zero temps using my phone for light was a laugh, but the job got done and back at the car I found my head torch, in one of the pockets I’d checked twice. So, that's saved me the cost of a new head torch.

This river hasn't fished well for me, so far, this winter. Perhaps the frosts were too sudden? Perhaps the recent floods have moved the fish? Maybe I'm just crap? Probably a combination of all three and more besides. Whatever, the sessions in previous seasons whereby consistent weather brought consistent fishing with chub queuing up at last light seem a long time ago. But then the weather hasn't really been consistent, so I've probably answered my own question. Perhaps the question should be 'what should I do when the weather is inconsistent?' 

Crack

Saturday 30^th November. River Weaver.

River looked ace during the morning dog walk and with a hard frost the night before, a trip to the canal didn’t particularly inspire me. Whatever, I rocked up at 1330, sorted myself out, screwed on the landing net to the handle (last used in April when I landed a tench) and ’cccrrrrunch’. I’d cracked the end of the handle near the thread last time out, wrapped it with gorilla tape thinking it would be sound, anyway, it wasn’t. Screwing the net in made the crack worse, and the thread was just a tad wobbly. 

I persevered trotting swim one, nada after 15 runs through. Swim two, after a dozen runs I hooked an average chub a long way down, got it to the net, lifted it out, bog standard 2lb8oz, however the net was now even more wobbly, the thread was ready to pop out. Gahhh.

Home is only 5 mins away, so I made THE call, and, thanks to the fortunate one, within 20 minutes a spare landing net pole and handle were at my disposal. Although, strictly speaking, given the time of day, good weather, driving conditions and lack of traffic, it should have been with me within 10 minutes, so clearly some improvement needed on her behalf, but I’ll let it slide… this time.

Back to another swim, I had several runs down, lost a few hooklinks to new underwater snags that have arrived since the recent floods, and basically just couldn’t get a rhythm or pattern going. Fed the line well, varied the depth and shotting, but couldn’t hook anything on striking those odd times when the float did dip. Then another hooklength loss just on dark saw me off, I simply couldn't be arsed to tie another for the sake of a few minutes more fishing.

I’d have loved to have stayed on watching a tip for an hour as the frost and mist descended, but taking 2 rods when roving never feels right, suffice to say today was one of them days. Maybe next time.

Surprise in the snow

A day on the river during or just after snow is always special, if the chub show up it's even better still. This time they didn't, but something else did...

Cool

I arrived at the river to find the above scene, real picture postcard stuff. 

Searching for a chub I dropped in a few small handfuls of mash in a few swims, however the first swim gave me zip. A half hour later I was in the second swim I missed a bite first cast, a little too eager perhaps, I gave it a half hour then moved on to swim number 3.

It was a really lovely day, dead still, a few fresh tiny flakes falling now and then but by and large, the snow in many areas hadn't been disturbed. Anyway, things were just about to get interesting, sat in 'the 4lb chub swim' (my first 4lb chub from this river came from this swim).. it is/was a chub banker if ever there was one.

Winter

Anyway, after about half an hour I struck, reeled in, and there's a fish on. It felt like a lump too but as there was no 'bite' I thought I'd foul hooked a chub. I kept a constant pressure but didn't try to bully it, thinking it would eventually give up, as chub do... but it sort of woke up and started going some. I mean the rod was doubled, I tightened the clutch as much as I dare and this foul hooked chub wouldn't budge... it dived down the edge and I heaved it out of the remnants of marginal weed and near bank foliage. 

Finally, after going up and down the swim a few more times I managed to get on top of it, and into the pan it went, well **** me with a rag mans trumpet.. it was indeed hooked in the mouth..and was a lovely little mirror carp of 5lb 8oz.. get in. 

Ace

Anyway.. the next swim gave me some more unhittable roach/dace type bites, as the light went, which I will talk about at a later date but no chub!

Offski at 515, Buffet Island for 630. Star of the show chicken, onions, rice noodles and peppers in plum sauce cooked 'live' on the teppanyaki grill.

Up and Down

According to the EA river level site, the local river has been in the ‘flooding is possible’ zone four times in the last three weeks. In between these peaks, the same site has also shown several other smaller spikes which have taken the level to the very extreme (high) end of what the EA call ‘typical range’ but which to the angler is still a very high level.

UP

So by my reckoning we have had the level rising sharply something like 7 times in the last 3 weeks. I think from Monday to Friday this last week has seen it at its most steady for a while, however as I type it’s up the banks once again.

Anyway, the levels didn’t do me much good last weekend, when true to form I had 3 short sessions of about 3 hours apiece. Session 1 was on Saturday afternoon when I had 3 hours on the Weaver, which as described, was in a state of flood. I fished a backwater with worms in the hope of a perch or big roach. I didn’t catch a perch but I did nail one net roach.

Session 2 on Sunday afternoon, I went to the Llangollen Canal. Again the target was a decent perch or a decent roach with worms and bread as hook baits. The temperature gauge in the car said plus 7 degrees Celsius however I arrived to find a real cutting wind blowing down the canal which made it feel much colder. I was well wrapped up but it was very hard going, as such, said roach or perch did not show for me!

Session 3 was back on the Weaver. Monday morning, bright, frosty and a beautiful day to be out on the bank! I trotted worms along the margins hoping for perch, sadly I think the level was still a bit high and all I could muster was the obligatory 1 pound chub.

Work finishes for me this Thursday, and if conditions and commitments allow I shall be out on Friday. Lets hope for something approaching consistent where the levels are concerned prior to that.

Meff Tea

A little late with the write up but I managed to get back to the Dove last Saturday.

4.15

EA river levels said it was somewhere in the middle of what we would deem normal, so off I set arriving at the river 12.30 midday-ish.

First thing, the entrance to the car park was a state. Mud, and fairly deep water covered in ice, the grass has been torn up a little too, so a bit of nifty driving gets the car to the ‘solid’ area. Great, well until I have to get out, but we worry about that later don’t we? The fields had large areas that were still underwater, thankfully though the ground had been frozen so the mud/wet wasn't as bad as it could have been.

The river although ‘normal’ was much higher than I’d have liked, and the swims I’d caught from a few weeks previous seemed to be flowing far too quickly for my liking.

I chose about 4 marginal crease swims somewhere near half way down the length, baited them all with a handful of mash periodically and fished each in turn over the course of the day.

There was not a lot doing it had to be said. It was cold too, very cold late afternoon in fact, not helped by the fact I had my summer bib and brace on, instead of the heavier winter version. So for the large part of the day all I had to keep me going were a few ‘possible’ plucks each of which turned into precisely nowt.

However as is often the case, when the light level started to drop around 4pm I had a definite pull round which resulted in a hooked fish. A good scrap and I netted what looked like a very decent lump. A five plus looked to be on the cards however the scales said 4.15. No matter, a great result on a cold day.

Walking off to the car park was a hoot as well. I decided to cut across the fields, got totally disorientated in the darkness and found myself walking about 120 degrees the wrong direction. I had to stop, gather my thoughts, go back to my swim and start again. Fantastic scenes.

Arriving home I had the ultimate Saturday night meff tea courtesy of 'Dee Aldee'! Aldi spare ribs, Aldi chilli flavoured doritos, Aldi St Etienne lager followed by Aldi almond chocolate, a taste sensation!

The following day I decided to spend a few hours on the local. Arriving at 2.30pm the first cast produced a 12oz'er on flake, things looked promising so I stuck at that swim for another hour, sadly nothing else came my way so I then moved into one of my so called ‘banker’ swims going into dark, now renamed to something else as I never got a bite here either.

Roland

There was still plenty of water in the river despite being back in the EA 'normal' range. A bit gutted nothing else showed up however the resident Rolands turned up in their droves to keep my on my toes after dark. I called it a day about 5pm. 

First in a while.

I decided to brave it today and with the predicted crappy weather took the easy option i.e. I fished locally with the gear which I already had to hand, so it was to be an effort to target chub with the cheese paste. I went for a run this morning and scoped a few potential swims and although the river was well up there were a few of areas of steady water, which I’d fished and caught from, in high conditions before.

The predicted rain arrived as I was leaving so I took a brolly and decided to stay in one spot effectively putting all my eggs in one basket. I picked the same area I fished with our Pest last week as conditions weren't that different in terms of level and colour.

A few handfuls of smelly mash at the off and I started to search various areas along the swim. There were a few leaves and branches but most had come down with the main pulse of water on Friday. Despite varying the lead size and varying the distance fished along the crease I perhaps had one 'pluck' so all in all a disappointing day and my first chub blank for a while.

On the plus side I've blitzed the garage this week and it now resembles something like what it should. Only a few trays of tackle and assorted junk to sort out and we should be approaching something that is reasonably efficient.

Three PBs in 24 hours

A planned trip to the Dove saw me and Hannibal arrive at 10.30. 

A Fingeo

The plan was to bounce around a few swims near the car park, eat at the car and then make our way downstream for the afternoon, it being some considerable hike to the extreme downstream limit. The session started as planned, we fished a few car park swims for nil bites (not planned) then after a few butties made our way downstream to get a feel for the whole stretch and visit a few swims Hannibal had never seen before. 

We settled into a nice glide which gave me a nice grayling on bread and at 2lb dead a new pb as well. Not truly deserved as I was after chub, but a fish is a fish. Thereafter we bounced around a few more swims to the extreme downstream end for little else. 

Just before dark then settled into a big bay right on a sharp bend for the last hour or so. We gave it a few casts but it just didn't feel quite right so after a little recce we hopped upstream a few hundred metres or so to another nice long glide. After 30 minutes or so I nailed a 4lb'er on bread flake,

4

 Hannibal had a result also latching into a 5lb 4oz fish, his second biggest chub and a river pb.After that we headed off,  negotiated the fields in the dark and got back to the car without too much mither, all good.

Hannibal 5.4

Saturday. I'd been promising my daughter (aka Pest) a trip to the local, and despite her having a bit of a cold nothing was getting in her way so we toddled over the river at 3pm. She's a left hander so we couldn't really share a rod, so today was about her fishing with me being the ghillie and giving her the best chance to nail a chub.

I was a bit gutted to see the river quite heavily coloured after the previous night's rain but nonetheless we chose a comfortable swim relatively free of bankside cover to make life a bit easier for her reeling in and started off with bread and cheesepaste on the hook and liquidised bread through a feeder.

There were plenty of taps and plucks and a bit of striking practice was needed as she missed a few bites, albeit tentative ones but at least there were a few fish knocking about. Anyway at about 4pm she strikes and hooks into a decent fish and we managed by hook or by crook to get it into the pan, with rapturous applause from a gathering of passers by on the footpath opposite. 

Pest .. PB no 3

A fish of about a pound and a half was the result and the 3rd PB I witnessed this weekend.

Last week's excuses.

Last weekend was a frustrating one...

4.8 Dove

..car trouble put paid to my regular Sunday afternoon foray, this was doubly frustrating as the day previously the Weaver looked great and I'd had 2 fish in 2 casts from my first 2 swims. One fish being a nice three pounder in a swim right next to a busy footpath. Settling down into a new swim at twilight I realised I'd left my tackle box at home including isotopes, spare hooks, hook lengths, the works. I'd arrived at the river with the rod banded up, literally took it out and started fishing. I'd not needed anything in my box for the first hour, so without realising just continued fishing, until dark, when the penny dropped... gutted. This weekend of woe resulted in me rearranging my gear (yet again) this last week and relegating the tackle box to the 'baitbox corner' of the garage. Instead I've now saved space and lightened the load a little by utilising the pouches and various pockets in my bait bag, so hopefully no more forgotten tackle.

This weekend saw me decide to fish the River Dove for chub so mid Sunday afternoon I made my way down the A50. Two cars were in the car park upon my arrival which is quite unusual, but my chosen swims were unaffected. Using bread flake and cheese paste on the hook I cast out to the edge of the flow and had several unhittable raps in the first swim, eventually nailing a grayling on bread flake. I also drew a blank in the second swim which is in very close proximity to the first. Both of these swims have quite large slack areas closer in and have given me decent chub sport in previous years.  I think that perhaps they are better for chub with more water on and I also think I gave each a little too much time, but hindsight is wonderful.

Swim 3 however did give me a result. A few handfuls of mashed bread and my first cast using bread flake saw the tip fly round after less than a minute with a chub if 4.8 in the net shortly after. Three quarters of an hour later at about 4.45 I had a second fish, this time a 3pounder. Another chance came my way after dark when a tightening of the line around my finger resulted in a bite which literally pulled the tip round by about 2ft, I struck and missed, how does that happen?

So, no excuses this week, back on the Dove this Friday all being well.

Getting Bigger?

Friday 26th October. Due the fact that the temperatures dropped massively at the back end of the week I went for chub as opposed to perch. Upon getting out of the car at 1520 the low temperatures gave me confidence and I just knew the chub would be feeding.

Four pound dead

The first few swims gave nothing, lots of leaves coming down made bait presentation difficult. I watched a jay in the field opposite dossing food into it's little stash which was good, he didn't know I was watching so I thought about legging it over the next day to nick his stuff. 

I dropped into a banker swim about 445 pm, introduced a few handfuls of mashed bread and flicked out a decent sized nob of cheesepaste. Within minutes the tip tapped, tapped again and flew round, the result a clean looking chub of about 2lb.

Not long after the rod nearly flew off the rest and after a hard scrap a decent lump was in the pan, I weighed this one and the scores said a level 4lb.. happy days, only my 4th 4lb'er from the river.

 I gave it a few more casts as the light dropped then right at the death, I'm off again, a near 3lb'er being the result. Three hours, three bites and 3 chub of 2,3 and 4lb... can't complain.

Saturday 27^th October. I returned for another short session on arriving at 4pm. Initially I fished an armchair swim for a while but the light was really bright so I dropped down into an area where the river is more shaded. An hour or so in and a fish of about a pound and a half is in the net, not a lot of action it has to be said and certainly no attention from smaller fish.

Another hour and I hit my second bite, a strong downstream run and it feels like a decent fish. Lots of ploughing around once under the rod tip and up pops a decent fish, into the pan first time, a quick weighing and it's another 4. This one going 4lb 3oz. I gave it another half hour then jibbed it.

4.3

So, two 4 pounders in 2 days, bear in mind I’d only had three four pounders from this stretch in the previous 5 years, 2 of those coming last winter so this was ‘news’. I’ve also had several clean young looking fish up to 3lb 12oz over the summer and autumn whilst perch fishing so it’s fair to say the chub do seem to be getting a bit bigger compared with my first forays onto the river some five years ago when a 3 pounder seemed to be the ceiling.

Sunday 28^th October. I returned again, anything to avoid the Merseyside derby but also hoping for the hat-trick of three four pounders in 3 sessions. This was, sadly, a session too far. Although I did catch four chub up to 3 pound and all of the fish were lovely clean, young looking specimens, the bigger fish, this time eluded me.

Chub, chub and more chub.

With the weather quite bright and relatively warm I arrived on the car park about 2.20pm. I took the bare minimum tackle wise, and went to one end of a line of trees, my intention being to bounce downstream from one swim to the next giving each swim 30 minutes or so.

Swim one gave me a 2lb chub after about 20 minutes to link legered cheesepaste, a good start but the next 2 swims gave me precisely nowt. Swim 4 gave me another chub, a good looking clean fish which I weighed at 3lb exactly. Swim 5 gave me yet another at 2+ again on cheesepaste.

As the light drew in I settled in an armchair swim for my final and fished mid river away from any trees hoping the dark would mean the fish moving away from the snaggy areas. I threw in several handfuls of mashed bread to help with the process of drawing them to me and had bites straight away with a further 4 chub falling to cheese paste. Two of those fish were less than a pound, one was probably 2 but the last one was a decent fish for the river at 3lb 10oz. I called it a day at 5pm, having had probably 13lb of chub in 2 and a half hours from several different swims.