Old New Year

River Dove 31st Dec 2019.

On New Years Eve 2019 I made a final trip to a stretch of the River Dove... 

Run!

It's on a club card which I've hardly used in the past few seasons so it's become a rather expensive day ticket, therefore, sadly it has to go. Although I hadn’t fished this particular venue for a good few years it was my favourite venue on the club portfolio and was quite a trip down memory lane. The stretch had given me some great memories, some good chub, a PB grayling, barbel, colourful perch and both rainbow and brown trout. Yet it probably gave me more in terms of time spent with friends than actual fish caught.

Dove crease

On this day I rocked up at 13 bells and made my way through the entire stretch, if nothing else just to  have one last look.

Dove

I link legered crust and cheesepaste under bushes, I trotted flake and worm along glides and creases, and as usual the day passed in a flash, as it always does when fishing. 

Despite dropping into all my usual haunts I never had so much as a bite, but then it never was a venue that could be described as easy. Blanks were more the norm rather than the exception and every fish I'd ever caught here had been earned. There was no reward today however, no sentimental last gasp chub, just another entry in a long list of memories.

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.

Summer

Thursday 19th December 2019. Llangollen Canal.

A sharp spike in temperature meant this place had to be visited today. As I pulled up, the car thermometer was reading 11 degrees Celsius, which, let’s face it, means it’s basically summer. For a few hours at least.

Summer

I arrived at approx. 13 bells and lo and behold there was another angler present, pole fishing just above my usual position. After the usual exchange of pleasantries, he said it had fished slowly. The canal was noticeably calmer than I had ever seen it, no howling wind, a flat surface, and with it being warm and overcast, it looked spot on.

I carried on up the towpath and settled in approx. 50 yards higher up than I’d normally fish. I opted for a slight change of tactics from the usual. For the ‘downstream’ swim, I fished chopped worm through an open end feeder but for a change tried a small amount of groundbait (betain green) with lobworm, or half a lobworm on the hook. The upstream tactic was the usual large piece of bread, having introduced the equivalent of about half a slice of mashed bread upon arrival.

First cast lobworm, bite, strike, miss. Second cast, bite, strike, miss. Today was going to be good fun. I cast a few feederfuls of chopped worm into the swim, let it rest and went onto the bread line where I had a fish first cast in the shape of an 8oz roach.
Back onto the worm line, bite, thud thud, then a bream is landed. Over to the bread swim, nothing. Next cast on the worm line brings a skimmer. Back onto the breadline, nothing. Back to the worm swim, skimmer. So in the first hour I’ve probably put 5lb of fish in the net.

At 1400, the heavens open, I’m warm and waterproof, but the bites stop. At 1430 it’s still falling, and heavily, so I do something I rarely do, and put brolly up. The wind gets up and I have a further hour with little in the way of a bite, save for the odd tentative pluck.

Eventually the wind drops and the rain subsides but the worm swim has died a death. An upstream cast with bread gives me twitches a plenty and a decent fish is hooked at 1545. It’s kicking hard and a good roach surfaces two metres from the net. A good roach then slipped the hook two metres from the net.
#
Another last cast, another bite, missed. A final last cast and a 6oz’er is in the pan and with the light all but gone I decided to call it a day. Upon emptying the keepnet, one of the bream looked a tad like a roach. Hybrid. 2lb 5oz worth.

Can’t complain about that first hour, regardless of species, but the rain seriously knocked them back in that middle 90 minutes for some reason. However, regardless of that I think that bread swim should have given me a few more fish, big chance missed there today I reckon.

Still

Sunday 15^th Dec 2019. River Weaver (level approx. 1.01m and falling).

Still

River up 2 foot approx, which never seems to bode well, but dropping and nicely coloured so thought I’d give it a go with lobworms. The morning dog walk found 2 cormorants, where last week there had been one.

Nothing too complicated, I fished a lobworm hookbait under a small bomb down the inside on 3 different swims, each of which is quite overgrown. Normally these would throw up the odd bite, maybe a chub, perch or ruffe, but today sadly, I didn’t have a sniff.

This continues my recent, poor run of form on the river. Although in my defence comment has been made on the local FB pages as to how poorly it’s fished this winter. That said it’s getting to the point now where I feel I have a point to prove.

More wind

Sunday 8^th December 2019. Llangollen Canal.

Fresh from yesterday’s successes I went back today hoping for more of the same.  

I made a slight change, opting for a one rod approach, with the plan being to fish worm one side and bread the other, then rotate between both swims.

I arrived at 1315 the wind was very strong, and cold, totally different from yesterday. I don’t know what it is about canals, but even on the big sweeping beds the wind seems to blow right down the canal. As such the light quiver rod was getting bounced all over the place so the upstream swim was abandoned after 2 casts, thereafter I concentrated solely on the downstream line.

The next hour or so was spent fishing lobworm via a chopped worm feeder and after that I alternated with bread. It was, as the old school match anglers would say, an absolute grueller. I didn’t have a hint of a bite for the first 2 and a half hours.

I got my first proper indication at 1545, the wind dropped ever so slightly, the light levels started to drop also and a quick pluck on bread never materialised into anything else. I had 3 more good bites in the next half hour, all on worm, but failed to connect with any of them. The light closed in at 1625 and I called it day.

A very difficult day today. That wind made conditions really tough and there’s no doubt that the much colder temperatures had an impact. It’s never nice getting your backside kicked and with hindsight I probably should have tucked my rod closer into the bank, and lower down, and changed the angle I was seated at. That said hindsight is wonderful when you’re sat in the house.

Despite the adversity, I probably fished better than yesterday and even with the horrid conditions, I still had a few chances late on, so those are the positives I will take from the session.

Bag

Saturday 7^th December 2019. Llangollen Canal.

Bag

Back to the same swim as Thursday evening, arrived 1315 or thereabouts. I decided to go with 2 rods, chopped worm hemp feeder and lob worm hookbait on 1 rod, with a large piece of bread cast to various parts of the swim on the other.

Grey

A bite came first cast on the worm rod, which I missed. A roach of about 6oz came a cast or so later. There was then a blank period for about 30 minutes, but then I landed a 2lb bream on the bread rod and a good roach of about a pound on the worm rod. Both fish within a few minutes of each other. At that point I decided to put the keepnet in.

Here we go. Bites then came steadily throughout the day. Several more roach to both rods and a 12oz perch on the worm rod. I missed loads of bites with the rod literally coming off the rest at times, such were the ferocity of the takes on the worm rod especially. I lost a few good fish on the worm rod too, both times the hook coming back and the worm had folded over, masking the point.

Two rods worked well, but there were times when it was more of a hindrance. I missed several bites whilst messing around with the other rod. Now is the time to think about fine tuning the methods am thinking it might be better to use one rod but vary between the bread and the worm, in effect feeding 2 swims? Food for thought.

So at the end of the day, 1 bream, 1 perch, with the scores on the doors for roach being 6 fish of which the best three were 14 oz, 15 oz and 1lb 2oz. Very interesting fishing.