Drop Shot Danny and the Bloggers

The salubrious Coventry canal. A venue packed with Zander but sadly I could not muster even a baby 'Zed'. Still it was an interesting venue to while away a few hours of daylight with a plethora of fellow bloggers some of whom did manage to get their strings pulled.
It was great to meet up with some old acquaintances and some familiar faces that I have never met before but feel I know well anyway.
Also watching Danny putting his drop shot technique to devastating effect landing more fish than the rest of use combined has given us all food for thought. A moving bait is definitely the way forward on this and similar venues for me in the future.

Drop shot Danny

Rain Stops Play

In the interest of blogging balance blanks are always posted, as well as red letter days. Sadly this weekend was the former.
Martin and I took a short road trip down to the Wye valley on the outskirts of Ross on Wye. Our target was Pike and hopefully huge ones. The trip had been booked three weeks previously so obviously weather wise we were completely at the mercy of the gods, they were not kind. The previous day was a wash out across the whole of Wales. Torrential down pours emptied into the river system and when we arrived at our chosen stretch the river looked perfect but it was on the rise. And boy did it rise quickly!
To add to a rapidly rising river(in my opinion the worse possible conditions for Pike) within ten minutes  of our arrival the heavens opened and it did not not up. It was so heavy it caused the river surface to bubble up.
Despite the conditions I did manage to hook a Jack Pike within ten minutes of casting out but sadly it threw the hook just as I was about to net it. That was the some total of the action and after four hours we beat a soggy retreat to the car for an early lunch.
A change of venue was decided upon and we toddled off closer to home and our favourite river Avon. We both knew that the odds were against us again as the Avon was a foot and a bit above normal levels and a lovely chocolate brown, lovely for Barbel not so good for Pike. We gave it our best shot but yet again we were sent home with our tails between our legs, a couple of right blankers!
Did manage to get a nice shot of a pheasant though......

Max Enjoyment

Last week my eldest daughter joined me, this week it was Max's turn. All week he was as keen as mustard, "how many more sleeps 'til we go fishing Daddy?". He had no idea how happy his constant questioning made me.
Now Max is only four years old and with that in mind I knew consistent action would be required to keep him interested so whilst I put a rod out for Pike I set him up with a maggot feeder in a swim that would hopefully produce lots of bites. There is nothing certain in fishing but thankfully the fish played ball(and the weather was lovely)!

Max certainly looked the part! 

Patience my boy patience!

Casting was my domain but he insisted on reeling in even though he was not strong enough to hold the rod but by leaving it on the rest he could manage to bring in everything he hooked. I thought it wise to keep the anti-reverse engaged to avoid tangles and it worked, not one birds nest all day!

Smug!

We managed to fish for about four hours and ended the day with a pretty decent haul consisting of Roach, Chub, big Dace and a decent Perch. As you can tell from the picture he was pretty pleased with himself.

The Pike rod remained dormant for the duration so I suppose I blanked but it was the most enjoyable blank I have had in a long time!

Too much fresh air?

Early season Piking

Three weeks since I last wet a line so I was itching to get to the river. Although the weather is still decidedly autumnal I wanted to begin my Pike campaign early especially with a sojourn to the Wye coming up in a fortnight. The weather was not ideal with bright skies and beautiful sunshine but the recent flush of rain gave me some much needed confidence. It didn't take long until the first Pike snaffled my Roach deadbait, a small Jack of about five pound. It still had it's warm water vibrancy as it thrashed and tail walked around the swim leading me a merry song and dance. An enjoyable fight.

Tactics were pretty simple, a small Roach deadbait, a single size Six hook impaled ust above the dorsal fin attached to a part-cocked loafer float. Resistance must be avoided as much as possible when predator fishing otherwise the fish will drop the bait and this rig is very light. Seems to work well for me. 

It wasn't long before the float twitched and went for a wander followed by that lovely feeling of resistance when I struck into the second Pike of the day. The initial stages of this fight were considerably different to the previous. The fish was much more deliberate and I knew I was attached to something substantial. My first sight of the fish revealed more than just it's size, I could see the hook in the corner of it's mouth and the hold it had there looked extremely flimsy. The enjoyment of the fight immediately disappeared replaced by nervous tension and as it thrashed and made powerful runs around the swim all I could do was pray. Thankfully those prayers were answered and I ended up slipping the net under a stunning double figure Pike.

Not a long fish but immaculate and as fat as butter weighing in at 11lb 2oz.

Another Jack snaffled the bait soon after, a hat trick of Pike from the same swim in only a few hours.

My eldest daughter, Maisie joined me mid-afternoon and whilst I still fished on for Pike I realised that her patience would not last as long as mine so a maggot swimfeeder was chucked out and we had fun  messing about with Perch and Roach. Her favourite fish is now Roach because 'they are beautiful' and she would like a couple as pets! 

Tourists-not for the Purists

'I'm sure Izaak Walton would approve of pig-sticking a pellet fed farmed Salmon on a Dog Nobbler, sounds like fun' came the text message. 'Not one for the purist' I replied, but surely fun and enjoyment are what fishing should be all about. So there we had it, it was booked. Nick and I on our annual fly fishing trip were off to Palm Springs, a little puddle in the Leicestershire countryside stocked with farm bred Salmon. Neither of us have ever landed a Salmon before wild or manufactured and these fish are definitely the latter but a catch, any catch would be a personal best.
The website states that it is not the same as traditional Salmon Fishing(understatement) but it is the best chance of catching an Atlantic Salmon on rod and line(true) and that they fight as well if not better than their wild relatives(doubtful!).
I was the first to arrive, met the owner Ben who was very helpful and stood aghast brew in hand watching big fish leaping about all over the place. It looked like it was going to be 'shooting fish in a barrel'. First impressions can be deceptive.

With hindsight I should have taken more photos of the leaping Salmon but I was so desperate to feel the tug from one I concentrated on the fishing. Strong tackle was the advice proffered on the website and I set up my 8weight fly rod with a fifteen pound leader. Ben told us the most productive method was a dark fly, as big as you've got fished slow and deep. I took this on board and started with a black bodied, maribou tailed gold fritz headed lure.
Nothing is ever as easy as it seems though and during the next six hours we tried every lure in the box. We retrieved slow, fast, deep, shallow and all the while the Salmon splashed and leaped. It felt like we were being teased and taunted. Nick lost his temper and on several occasions he shouted profanities at our tormentors.
Having been through the box once I re-tied on the black maribou fritz and skimmed it all along the bottom at a pace so slow it was almost static. Was that a touch? I thought it might have been or maybe the fly just caught some weed but then the weed started to pull back-it was a fish! Sadly it didn't stay attached for very long but at least our spirits were lifted by this lost unseen adversary. I recast quickly, waited for the fly to sink to the bottom and then started the retrieve, figure of eight, extremely slowly. It became obvious that this was what the fish wanted and another took the lure. This time however it was properly hooked, one leap, a few surging runs and before long it was beaten. Not a monster at 5lb 2oz but a stunning fin perfect pb silver Salmon, it really was in excellent condition.

Now we knew exactly what the fish required I gave the exact same fly to Nick and although it took a while eventually it worked for him too and he hooked up to his own hard fighting fish. Our patience had been awarded and he landed his own Salmon just a bit smaller than mine but again another perfect specimen.

We fished on for about a half hour but that was it for the day, quite pleasing that there was a certain symmetry to it.

So our first ever Salmon apiece. I am sure that we will not be rushing back there sometime soon but we came to the conclusion that you have to try everything once-purists might not agree!!

Rain Required

As the driest September in living memory draws to a close anglers across the country are praying for rain. The low water and crystal clear water has led to long term difficult conditions on the nations rivers and for us this weekend was no different. My old school mate Matt ventured all the way down from North Yorkshire in the hope of doing battle with some hard fighting Warwickshire Avon Barbel but they proved extremely elusive.
I took him to some of my favourite haunts, swims that have been productive for me in the past and we tried all sorts of tactics from 'bait and wait' with hemp and maggots, legered pellets and rolling meat but we could not muster a bite between us.

The only saving grace were the Perch. They were extremely active chasing fry in the margins and they weren't fussy either as they snaffled our worm baits. We took several between us to well over a pound whilst trying for the Barbel. A nice distraction but we couldn't help feeling short changed.

By mid-afternoon I think the lack of excitement took it's toll on Matt and having worked hard all day for little reward we called it a day and retired to the pub for liquid refreshment and sustenance. We could probably have snatched a target fish at dusk but the odds were slim.

Wychavon Parish Games-Match Fishing

Match fishing is not my scene, I just don't like being told when and where I can fish but once a year I give it a go. The Parish Games is an inter village tournament of over thirty different disciplines including pool, cross country, 5-a-side football, darts, crib etc. and fishing is one of the events. You must reside in the village you represent and a team of three is required for the angling. The venue is always the Warwickshire Avon in Evesham, the same stretch that holds the angling festival on Bank Holiday August. The river is split into three sections, each team has an angler in each section and where you finish in your section is the number of points you get. Total the three lots of points and the team with the lowest amount wins, simple.
The draw takes place in the local cafe at 8.30am and fishing is from 10.00am until 3pm with a presentation of money and prizes straight after. My team mates are both serious match fishermen who know every peg on this stretch backwards so while they fought it out over pegs 5 and 22 I took the remaining peg, 41.

My tactics were simple, I had two main baits chopped worm and maggots plus pellets as a last resort. Right from the off there were fish topping close in front of me so I set off with 'mag and wag' just below the surface. First cast I had a Dace. It was tiny all eyes and not a lot else. Within half an hour I had a few more but they were so small that the maggot(and the hook) didn't get fully in their mouths and when they came up in the water they just fell off! I thought this will take me ages to get a decent weight and its not my style of fishing in any way so when the boredom and frustration had reached boiling point I changed to a feeder. I continued to feed close in but the feeder was sent further out in search of more substantial specimens. That was my first mistake. A fruitless time followed until I brought the feeder close in and nailed a half decent Perch. That however was a false dawn and was not backed up by any of it's brethren. I went back to tiddler bashing, nailed a few more and changed to worm, another mistake.
This also proved futile as did the last hour of trying for a biggie with pellet, mistake number three.

I ended the match with a meagre nine ounces. Luckily I wasn't the only one who struggled and I finished tenth in my section but I can't help thinking that if I had stayed with the tiddlers that placing could have been so much higher!
Thankfully my team mates had fared much better in their fancied pegs with Don coming a respectable third in his section and Ady winning his and the match to give us a creditable second place overall. The first time our village had been placed for nearly thirty years! Next time...next time!

Love a Bit of Blue!

The sun had just risen over the horizon as we stealthily made our way out of Plymouth harbour. Our mission was to do battle with the Blue sharks off the Devon coastline, an annual trip I have made several times with our kid but this time we dragged along a sharking 'virgin', Martin.

Although we didn't quite have the whole ocean to ourselves we were the only anglers venturing out that day. A force four/five breeze meant that anchoring up over wrecks was not possible but as we would be drifting it was safe to fish but not easy to retain your breakfast as both Martin and Nathan proved! It meant that there was more sausage rolls and pork pie for my lunch though!!

Mackerel Penis-Unfortunate!!

First job as always is to gather bait which means Mackerel feathering, a fun prelude to the real thing. Thankfully they were plentiful and in no time at all we had enough for both the sharks and the rubby-dubby.

From the Mackerel grounds we then steamed out the rest of the 22 miles to our drift which would take us another five miles over several wrecks.
The tackle used was 30 pound class boat rods multiplier reels loaded with 50 pound mono, 200 pound mono leader, wire trace and large circle hooks. Poly ball floats were clipped to the line allowing us to adjust the depths of the Mackerel flapper baits.

The Mackerel was mashed and deposited over the side in an onion sack to allow the scent, oils and bits of fish to create an attractive slick for the sharks to follow. As sharks can smell a drop of blood from miles away I'm not sure the whole fish carnage is necessary but it has been done this way for years so I never question the skipper's methods.
A rotation system is in place for the three rods with everyone starting with one each(after a draw has been made) and when an angler has landed a fish he relinquishes his rod until all the others have caught.

Nathan's rod was the first to register but in the time it took him to get to it the fish had dropped the bait. It was obviously hungry though and immediately picked up mine instead. A strange fight ensued where it came straight at the boat and then didn't really cause me any problems until it was close in. Not a monster but at least it was a start.
Occasionally sharks spit their stomachs out in an attempt to eject something they don't want inside them-like a hook. It does them no harm and they swallow them back down and live perfectly fine. It makes for a gross photo mind you so I have heavily cropped the image below for those of a weak constitution, don't want Martin and Nathan to be sick again!

Then there followed a lengthy period of inactivity but finally the deepest rod signalled a take and Martin landed his first ever 'Blue' and he seemed so pleased that he gave it a 'Rex Hunt' style kiss.

The slick was obviously working extremely well now and before long Nathan landed his own bit of Blue.

There was one slight problem we had in that the Sharks were not the only creatures attracted to the fishy trail, a couple of hungry Gannets joined us and they were a nightmare when trying to get the baits out to the right area. These huge 'Pterodactyls' as the skipper calls them have amazing eyesight and the ability to dive really deep, enough to attack the bait. Several times they descended into the depths to retrieve what they thought was a free meal only to find a big hook buried in it.

Amusing at first and magnificent to see these huge birds in action but it was a relief when they buggered off. Thankfully we didn't hook any of them!

Also in the slick were plenty of Garfish which are great fun to play on light tackle. I cannot resist catching a few and my Avon rod and eight pound line could only just cope. To be honest when I hooked a 2lb 4oz specimen it really beat me up but thankfully the size eight hook held firm and I landed a new pb.

We did manage a couple more Sharks between us, a small one for me that was spared a photo session and the biggest of the day to Martin, a 5foot 11inch specimen weighing approximately 45lb.

Ignore the 'Pussy Pouch' and lipstick!

All in all another thoroughly enjoyable trip aboard Sea Angler II and we celebrated our success long into the night in the bars of Plymouth.

Fiddling with my Flies

I set my Barbel rods up prior to checking the following days forecast and when I saw that beautiful sunshine was on the cards I made the decision to leave them at home. The Warwickshire Avon has been running low and clear for ages now and the Barbel would definitely not oblige in these bright conditions. Instead the fly rods were chucked in the van as I fancied trying something different this weekend.

My expectations were low but I did manage to get quite a few fish to rise to my small home made spider patterns. Roach, Chub, Dace and Bleak all showed interest but the bites were absolutely lightning quick and made for a frustrating yet enjoyable few hours fishing.

No monsters were landed but it was more about fun and trying something different than specimen fish, a pleasant change from sitting behind static rods for hours on end. Also it was a brilliant way to explore miles of river and check out some new swims with potential for Winter Chub and Pike fishing and I found some mouth watering prospects for when the weather changes.
The river is still alive with nature so the camera got plenty of use too.