Thursday, 25 July 2013

Back On The Lea



Awake, in the still of night, 3-15am to be precise. With the flask filled and food prepared, I was ready for the off by 3-45.....
 I'd loaded the car in warm silence and began my 25 mile journey to the River Lea.
 In 1617 the Inn in the area I was to fish owned 119 acres of land,. It was a favourite angling resort and Izaak Walton himself is reputed to have stayed and fished there. I wondered if he had reached the fishery gates before 5am as I had.
 Having met up with friend and colleague Mike en route, we were surprised not to be the first there. The alleged best two swims had already been bagged.
 Settling down in my chosen swim, I slowly set up my Sealey Octofloat De-Luxe and Speedia for long-trotting. The water came fast through a bottle neck upstream with messy water and had gouged a deeper gully under the far bank trees. Downstream was even and slower.


Mainline was 6lb Drennan Float Fish and hooklink was 5lb Guru N-Gauge to size 16 Super Specialist, with traditional avon style float .Bait was to be double white gentles, though I also had hemp,casters and soft pellet.
 The swim was fed little and often whilst setting up and with one pinch of hemp catapulted upstream before the cast we were now ready.
 Within a couple of seconds the float was under and the newly revived Sealey was re-christened with a fine dace.


  I love the way one can learn about a river pool by searching it out with a trotted float, those hang ups, those unseen current changes, it really is the most pure form of our pastime. That familiarity one develops allows the manoevring of the float to be developed and honed as the day goes on, it's real thinking angling.
 The next few fish to come to hand were chublets, little pristine scrappers.


There were also roach, wonderful chunky roach. I will definitely be back to specifically  target them later in the year.
 So, with the feed going in little and often the bites were coming at a steady rate. I decided to experiment with the set-up, deepening up so that the bottom shot was dragging the river bed.
 Down the stream the float bobbed, slower and seemingly unnatural, but it produced something lovely, something that brought the biggest of smiles to my face.......



....Now THAT is a gudgeon, a true monster....I love them.

It was shortly after this that Mike arrived in my swim. He was fishing in the next swim down from me and as etiquette dictates he asked if I would mind if he cast his feeder to an upstream feature, apparently a known holding area for barbel.
 I answered that the spot was only a couple of metres from the end of my trot and that the chances were that it would kill my sport. He understood and said he would try further upstream.
 Now, with Mike vacating the downstream swim he had, of course, made things better for me.
 I decided to up my feed and was soon into a larger unseen fish which I guessed was a chub, unfortunately the hook pulled.
 On recasting I immediately hooked a harder fighting fish which led me a merry old dance with surging runs downstream. Eventually it was close enough to see that I had foul hooked a barbel. Knowing that they are rarely alone I fed hemp and caster as I played the fish, inevitably the hook came out and the fish was free. A foul hooked fish is not a sporting catch so I wasn't at all disappointed. With the next cast the feeding payed off as I was into another fighting fish. This one was hooked fair and square and duly banked, my first Lea barbel...small but perfectly formed and great fun on the cane and pin.



The fishery is busy and other anglers had arrived. Fishing is from numbered swim only and it was just a matter of time before someone settled in to the swim below. I had just got the barbel in my swim when a large feeder sploshed just down from my killing zone. Yes, this fellow knew of that spot too, but lacked Mikes manners.
 He had a barbel almost immediately. It had proved Mike's hunch correct, barbel were to be found there , but it also proved my point also, in that I didn't have another bite.



The Octofloat had proved itself to be a welcome addition to my armoury. Versatile, crisp and didn't feel too heavy in hand.
 It was time  to up sticks and find Mike.
 Some distance upstream he'd also landed a small barbel and as there was some decent space between swims here, I dropped downstream of him.
 I made the decision to fish a hair rigged half boilie on a size 12 Drennan hook and my usual small river running drilled bullet rig. All this with my B.James Mk IV and I opted to still use the pin, even though I had brought a Mitchell 300 along.


That reedline shade just had to harbour fish and I opted to fish nearside with fourteen half-boilies as free offerings around the hookbait.
  It was just a case then of sitting back in the dappled shade and pouring myself a cup of Twinings Afternoon Tea.

 There's not much better than the shade of a riverside willow in the midst of an English summer. Things progressed favourably some twenty minutes later when a savage take ensued with the rod wrapping in a downstream direction.
 On striking, my first thoughts leant towards a quality barbel, but barbel are eventually controlled. This fish had gone out of sight. I stretched the rod out over the water and gave it some welly. Slowly, very slowly it came towards me, intermittently diving head first into the reeds as it came. The old Mk IV eventually subdued the species it was designed for.


The little bruiser only had one eye, a proper little character.


It was time to crack open the Lemon Drizzle cake, so having returned the fish I strolled up to Mike's swim to share. Now, within the 'traditional' fishing community there are those that bestow much majesty on the humble cake. Some will tell you that the consumption of certain cakes will help the angler to lure specific species of fish. There are also those that believe it to be flowery claptrap.
 Mike hadn't had a bite for over an hour fishing the maggot feeder but knowing about cake theory declared, "I'm bound to catch another barbel now ". I kid you not, the magic was instant, his rod whacking round immediately.
 The result...........


  
It is therefore Lemon Drizzle for barbel for the cake theorists then !

Soon after, I ventured a maggot/hemp feeder myself and had a wonderful couple of hours sport with chub and roach.



There were many last casts, you know, 'just one more', but I strolled back to car thinking that the spirit of old Izaak might have smiled on me. A truly enjoyable day and that gudgeon'll live in the memory for a good while.. I'm still smiling about it now.

Wednesday, 3 July 2013

A Fine Enough Roach?


When I woke this morning I thought I might like to catch a fine roach, so by evening time I was back in the secret swim.
 The rod of choice today was a Chapman 500. Based on the MkIV Avon, it's more steelier than the Lucky Strike, six inches shorter and can handle anything that this stretch can throw at it.


First came a perch, not a bad one either but as I fished on I found myself pulling out of many more bites than with the Lucky Strike..Partially because I was distracted by the kingfishers that I now actually see every time I angle and I suppose, partly due to the rod. I did however, finally get amongst the dace again.


 The secret swim isn't really a secret, you know? Lots of people know, they just don't care to catch immaculate dace, perch, roach and chub.Small river fishing just isn't en vogue these days and they don't come here, I'm glad about that.



 After a while spent in a sparkle of dace, at last came that roach.....


Not the biggest roach I've ever caught but I might lay down in bed tonight and ask myself if I caught myself a fine roach..The answer will be "Fine enough Gurn, fine enough."

Wednesday, 26 June 2013

Secret Dace


Come with me, come with me,do. To those placid pastures where smooth waters flow quietly on. Cast aside the vacant drudgery of fat carp and packed ponds and drift a while a bright float with me. Next humming bees and the hatch, I sit. 'Tween nettle and willow, poised. I am alone, no cloned sheep here, this piscator swims against the current.
 Cane and pin in secret swims, and unfashionable quarry. It's like being a child again, but with accrued knowledge, perhaps the best of both worlds.


I've sprayed the stream with gentles as I set about tackling up, I'll chance a cast.
 Nettles have stung my forearms, they glow now like the tip of the stick as it sails on it's merry way. Then, slowly, down to the depths and I strike...the beautiful dace, flickering, glimmering.



Pristine and unfished, the river, the fish. I've tucked myself away in Eden. I'm allowed here and so is everyone else, but they just don't know.
 I could sit here on every balmy summers night, no-one will disturb the tranquility.


Solitude, cane, pin and dace...it's nice isn't it ? I forget all that's humdrum and tedious...that's dace for you, they do that...and another comes to hand.


I'm quite content. Just listening to the birds, adrift in a sea of green, with flashes of dace.


For this evening, at least, they're all mine. Far far away from the chasers of chunks and ego. I'll just stay here a while and catch...dace.


Of course the time does roll by, I only meant to stay an hour or so, but I forgot you see? I lost myself , not really wanting to be not catching dace.
 But as soon as you drop your guard. The suprise chub, he's often there lurking, decides he's a bit jealous of dace and tries to take centre stage.


Time to go home, I think. Back through the untrodden, away from the wonder of dace....for now.


Tuesday, 18 June 2013

Great Ouse Barbel - The Return




The good Lady Sarah's 'Moo' cup is just the right size to hold a bulk spool of 10lb Daiwa Sensor Clear, for loading purposes.
  It was time to get the old Shimano 3500's spooled up and head off to rekindle my beautiful relationship with the Great Ouse.
 I'd got it into my head that I'd quite love to catch myself just one more Ouse barbel. Not an easy task, some Ouse barbellers go a whole season without a fish, they just aren't there in the numbers anymore. I wasn't going to let it stop me, I'm always up for the challenge.
 I was to do my first night on this river for a few years and set about searching for the swim that had what I was looking for. I tend to stick to one swim when fishing two rods overnight, so choice is not to be hurried. There are certain criteria it must have, I eventually settled in a swim that ticked most boxes.
 With fluffy seeds hurrying downstream with the flow, I sat bankside peering at two rod tips again. It had been a while. Was there anything out there?
 A kingfisher cruised noisily about two feet above my head and swans grazed at the shallows. I was back on my beloved Ouse, at peace.
 The flotsum made it easy to read the river, showing creases and eddies in enhanced detail. Did they harbour one of those fantastic nomads, were there any left?
 I had placed my first hook bait on the far crease, in front of some rushes, and the second on the near crease behind submerged cabbages. An hour previous I'd baited the two crease lines with fourteen (for it is my magic number) boilies each, and nothing else.
 Another hour had passed and I was listening to my first cuckoo of the year, thinking that he was late on parade.
 The tip of the far rod jagged round twice in quick succession, I struck to firm resistance and the fish tore towards the near cabbages, he made it, but after a minute he was back in open water, heading upstream.
 He was only subdued by my reluctance to give any more line and I bullied him to the net.
 A fine chub, and I hadn't been there long. With him still in the net I texted my colleague Carl, who was fishing further upstream, to come and take some photos, as had been previously agreed.



 As with most chub, he was a bit of a character. A big black spot on his left gill cover and not much of a dorsal fin, I had no doubt that the fin had been damaged in an encounter with an otter.

 Crows flew diagonally overhead, and jets droned as darkness slowly crept upon me. The river takes on a different persona upon nightfall. Pigeons shuffled about on their roosts, cuckoos made way for owls and bats gorged on the relentless mosquitos. One thing that was missing though was crayfish activity. In the past these little (sometimes big) crittas have driven me to despair with their bait eating antics. Had the otters made a big dent in their population as well, I wondered. I wasn't complaining.
 We've all been there, the isotopes started dancing and my eyes began to ache under the strain. More tea, I thought, "Keep alert Gurn".
 I probably did roll in and out of some transient state, but I was wide awake when slowly but surely the light drifted back and things began to stir. I had a feeling that something was about to happen, I have felt like this many times before on the Ouse, usually nothing happens. Except today something did happen.
 It was 3:30am and the nearside rod wrapped around with such ferocity that it made me jump. On grasping the rod I was soon witnessing the power of the, as yet unidentified creature as it shot off downstream.  I had to let it go. I was half in control and half winging it at this stage but knowing I needed to put the brakes on sooner or later, was truly frightened by the dogged determination of this fish. I clamped down and didn't give another inch. I whinced as I upped the pressure, I knew that these opportunities didn't come along too often. "Don't blow it, Gurn", I thought. Then something else occurred to me, this might be a carp.
 With the rod at the limit of it's capabilities the fish turned and launched itself upstream as fast as it had gone the other way, I struggled to keep up with it's lunges, constantly making clutch adjustments.
 As it made it's way through my other line and the cabbages, fortune smiled upon me. Not only did it come out, but it's face had been masked with weed . This seemed to calm it down and after what was still a too long time seemed ready for netting despite being impeded by my other rod.
 At last, it was in the net, but what was it?.....BARBEL, bloody immaculate, BIG BARBEL. I was shaking like a leaf.
 As I rested this wondrous creature, my adrenaline coursing. I realised that I had fulfilled my quest. A quest that could've lasted months...in one night!..God, I love the river.


 This fish was scale perfect, not a sign of damage. There are still a few nomads left......I was buzzing.
I was even able to don my new TFF badge upon my hat for it's first fish pic.

 Well, I've decide not to release swim details, I might want to return. I will, however, tell you about the kind of rigs I use on the Ouse.
Below is  picture of the complete set-up. The lead is easily able to jettison due to the line running around, instead of through it, and this did happen during the fight with this fish. It also works just as well with a Guru lead clip and swivel bomb. The backlead is pushed onto the gripper stop and is semi-fixed about two feet above the lead, but becomes free running during the fight. The hooklink is two feet long. The Extender stop slows down the Crays.


 There you have it then, mission accomplished......I'll be back.

 I'm going to give a little shout out to Graeme at  CarpOn Baits who always comes up with the goods.


Friday, 14 June 2013

When Trees Eat...er...Fences!


Well this cracking picture (sent in by Mark Russell...thanks) seems like a good point to end this arboreal nonsense for a while.
  It's coming up to the glorious 16th and there's angling to be done.
 I hoped you've enjoyed them and thanks to all who have contributed, it's been fun.
 If you do see any more on your travels please do still send them to me. They will get published here eventually.

Wednesday, 12 June 2013

When Trees Eat Signs 13


This one sent in by text this morning from my old mate 'Birdy' of Footsteps of an Angler who simply wrote, "Got one for ya buddy".
  Cheers old boy.

Tuesday, 11 June 2013

What a Difference a Few Months Make.



When Trees Eat Signs 12


Well we're up to a dozen now and they're still rolling in.

Another one sent in by Brian Smith who writes, "This sign is on the Nidderdale Angling Club stretch of the River Nidd. Time has erased the lettering." Thanks Brian.

Like I said before. If you send 'em, I'll post 'em...theintrepidpiscator@hotmail.co.uk

Monday, 10 June 2013

When Trees Eat Signs 11


This latest addition looks to have almost completely devoured one sign and is now tucking into his second course. Thanks to Leo Heathcote, he writes, "Hi mate, spotted this by the river Trent at shardow earlier thought it might be of some use to you, it's a double chomper!"

Saturday, 8 June 2013

When Trees Eat Signs 10


They keep coming in! This latest ivy draped devourer sent in from across the channel.  Merci beaucoup.