Chub on the Cheese

The recent drop in temperatures had me reaching into the freezer for some home made cheese paste and I headed off down the Warwickshire Avon in search of some big Chub. My target every Winter is to break the six pound mark (my pb being just short of that). A tall order on the river locally with the majority of the fish weighing three or four pounds and a five being a good fish. I know I could venture further afield to give myself more chance of hitting the target but the satisfaction would not be the same so I'll stay local until I crack it.

I love Winter fishing for the solitude. My only company on the whole stretch was a pair of nearly fully grown cygnets and the now common Kingfisher. Call me a miserable Yorkshireman but I go fishing to get away from people(apart from a few fishy buddies), not to be sociable with strangers.

Miserable Yorkshireman!!

 The fish were finicky but I did manage to land three Chub, all peas in a pod and all weighing virtually the same, just short of the four pound mark. Good sport as always in the conditions.

Still miserable!!

P.S The car is still there!!

Marlcliff Moron

 

There are far too many idiots in this world and sadly fishing has it's fair share. I didn't believe it when Andy told me that someone had driven past the weir at Marlcliff and down to the first peg on the lower meadow but today I saw the evidence with my own eyes. For anyone that doesn't know this stretch of the river there is a car park about two hundred yards upstream for BAA members. There is a lower unofficial car park down by the weir that is not supposed to be used as it is owned by British Waterways but some do. This guy(presuming no woman is this stupid) has driven through that car park across the grass, round the lock arms up a path that is slippy as anything even in summer, around the bend and turned right down to the peg. How he has not ended up in the river I do not know as this is a slippy peg! His car has been there for over a week and I can't see it being shifted for some time to come. 'What an idiot!!'.

Anyway I didn't just go down there to see the car (although a bit of me did!). I had a go at some fishing too. Torrential rain in bursts, gale force winds from storm Barney and a lack of action meant I didn't stay long. For once I think the dog was fed up before me. 

Windy Mullet Battling

This weekend I managed to get a pass out for a full days fishing. Initially the plan was to fish the river Frome but the gale force winds predicted meant that exposed river fishing was not going to be possible. Instead we decided to head for a bit of Mullet fishing in a (relatively) sheltered marina. The wind was still blowing a hooly but certain spots were just about fishable. I headed straight for the steps to be able to get low to the water meaning I was just able to control a float. Bread flake on the hook and three loaves that had been mullered in the blender to use as ground bait. 

 Two hours of inactivity to begin with before a slight twitch on the float had me alert, poised and ready. Next cast and the float slid under with real ferocity and I connected to a fish. The fight was very different to my previous battles with Mullet. There was no rushing around all over the place but instead powerful surges and deliberate lunges for freedom. I did the usual prayers when connected to a good fish, 'stay on, stay on' I repeated over and over again and when I got my first glimpse my heart rate quickened considerably. With the net dipped in the water it made what I hoped was its last lunge and indeed it was as it swam straight into the net. A stroke of luck but one I was happy to take.

Weighing 4lb 11oz it easily beat my previous pb and after collaring an elderly lady passing by to take the trophy shots, which she didn't do a bad job of,  I phoned my Mullet-mad mate Andy to tell him the good news. He was having a good day himself with six fish landed and our other companion Phil had also caught. They were having it!

 Strangely though as is often the case with fishing all of a sudden they just switched off. All three of us were left scratching our heads as to why but at least I had a little bit more excitement watching a forensic team board the boat opposite. I tried to earwig what they were saying but to no avail. I googled but still have no idea what had occurred.

The wind finally got the better of us mid-afternoon and we beat a hasty retreat back to the Midlands.

Avon Piking

A rare occurrence took place today, the sun came out, accompanied by a slither of blue sky. Albeit brief it was enough to have me scrabbling for the camera to record such a rarity of late. The unusual event took place during a short afternoon Piking session that I treated myself to on the back of a couple of weeks that has seen the new business venture progressing nicely. 

Two rods were deployed, one with a small Roach dead bait along the nearside margin and the other with large sea-baits thrown across river into a fishy looking slack. First off was a smelt that remained untouched for a half hour. I changed it over to a Mackerel tail and within a few minutes I was playing a feisty Jack that fought really well in the strong flow. I eventually won despite much angry head shaking and weighed in an immaculate 6lb 13oz fish. 

I was off and running with my first Pike of the campaign in the not so 'Pikey' conditions. It still feels too autumnal to be chasing these predators but with the alleged global warming being reported this may be as cold as it gets!

Tazzy kept watch for goings on down river while I kicked back and chilled on my easy chair.

The Roach bait remained static all day while the sea baits did the opposite. A couple of missed runs followed until finally I managed to hook the culprit. An even smaller Jack had been playing with the bait (and me!) until finally I managed to nail him. It was only about three pounds so I didn't bother taking weights or pics, just putting him back straight away. It turned out to be the last of the activity for the day apart from my usual messing about with the camera.

Never Turn Your Back on a Spaniel

The weather has certainly turned and with it I had a change of target. My plan was to spend the day chilling out by a commercial puddle in the hope of nailing one of it's (reputed) monster Perch. Prawn hookbaits deployed I retreated to the shelter of the old brolly in an attempt to stay dry as the heavens opened and stayed that way for most of the day.

It didn't take too long before the float sailed away and I was attached to a tough wee battler, not the target but a handsome little Tench of a couple of pounds. One of its brethren soon followed and I started to fear the worse, a succession of teddy-bear-eyed Tincas beating the Perch to the bait every time. Getting my hopes up mid battle to dash them again on appearing at the net.

The disturbance must have spooked the shoal and the next fish turned out to be a targetted Perch but nothing like the size I was hoping for. It must have struggled to get the bait in it's mouth, greedy little bugger.

Despite the inclement weather quite a few fish were feeding, the float indicating lots of twitches and trembles, most likely small stuff pecking at the big bait. The insert wagglers I was using are super sensitive giving an excellent picture of what's going on sub-surface.
Eventually a positive indication, resistance on the strike and a solid Bream came straight to the surface, barely flapped and was easily glided into the net. I find stillwater Bream fascinating creatures but they really are pathetic fighters.

Another baby Perch followed, I almost threw it straight back but it had the darkest almost jet black stunning eyes that warranted a quick snap.

Despite my best efforts the action died off and whilst I fished on in vain hope a monster would show, it was not meant to be.

All the while Tazzy had had a good day exploring, chasing wildlife and she even managed to nick a ham sandwich off the bloke fishing three pegs down. Thankfully he found it amusing! Typical bloody Spaniel.

Sneaking off........

Skulking back........

What did I do wrong master??

I'm Worried.....

Managed to sneak down to the Avon for the last couple of daylight hours and I was glad I did. The wind dropped, the rain abated and the sun popped out for the first time today.

As usual!? a Kingfisher popped along to say 'hello'. 

My plan of attack was two pronged, the downstream rod set up to trap a Barbel and upstream was for Roach. Typically the upstream rod registered the first bite but it was not a Roach that was attached but a Barbel. I played it cautiously concious that the closest components to my unseen adversary was a size fourteen hook and measly three pound line. Surprisingly it all held together and I slipped the net under a seven pound Barbel proving that it is possible but I will not be using it on purpose.

Now the worrying part: Otters have been working their way down the Warwickshire Avon and I had heard rumours they had made it down beyond Bidford but I hadn't seen any evidence until now. The beaten Barbel had obviously had a run in with one recently. Thankfully it had survived the encounter but there will be others that won't. I am not going to get all political with regards to Otters, there has been plenty said already but until now I had not been bothered. Now they are in my backyard, well, lets see what transpires....

I managed just one more fish before the light went completely, a Chub just shy of four pounds. Another fish that had been in the wars but it looked more like an old Pike wound.

A spectacular finale.

Barbel and Kingfishers on the Wye

If I lived on the doorstep of the stunning river Wye instead of the Warwickshire Avon it would be my favourite river bar none. The fact that it is my second favourite river is only borne out of logistics. From its source in the Welsh mountains to where it meets the Severn estuary it is stunning all the way and there isn't much that it doesn't offer to us anglers. Salmon, Trout and Grayling, monster Pike, big Chub, Dace, Roach, Perch and our target, some of the hardest fighting Barbel in the UK. 

Thinking about it I really should make the effort to grace its banks more often, it is only an hour away!

When Martin suggested a trip accompanied by the legendary Trefor West I jumped at the chance. He entertained us for the whole day and gave us some useful pointers that I took on board and led to a bit of success.  

The conditions were not ideal, a low and clear river(as they all are at the moment!) but perseverance paid off and just before lunch I landed my biggest ever Wye Barbel weighing a healthy 8lb 7oz. 

This followed about an hour later by another battler of 6lb 15oz.

Sadly Martin didn't connect with one himself but he did hook and subsequently lose a huge Pike that will probably give him nightmares for a few days.
I also fished a second rod in the hope of my own big Pike using a Bleak as bait. To attract more bait fish and therefore the predators I fed half a dozen maggots little and often into the swim. It had the desired effect and within half an hour I think every Bleak in the whole river was in front of me. The Perch followed them and every time they surged into the bait ball there was a huge spectacular eruption of fleeing fish.

The regular disturbance also attracted another beautiful predator interested in getting an easy meal.

Using my rod as a makeshift perch he helped himself to his supper but didn't shoot off in a blaze of blue and orange as these skittish birds usually do but instead he hung around to pose for his photo to be taken giving me several angles and opportunities to capture his best side.

He must have realised that he had no need to fear me as he stayed around for ages and wasn't disturbed by me moving round the bank side.

I am no expert but he looked to me like a young bird and made what was already a good day, perfect.

Not many people can say they have taken a 'selfie' with a Kingfisher!!

Fall Leaves Fall

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

                         Fluttering from the autumn tree. .......Emile Bronte

I love Autumn it's my favourite time of year. The colours are so rich, the sunsets spectacular and the nights drawing in. Light the fire, stick an extra jumper on, venture out on a spooky misty morning. Makes one feel poetic!?
I managed to get a couple of hours down by the Avon this weekend. Two rods, one for predators, one with pellet. I had to remain patient beside the low clear river but eventually as the light had all but faded I had my one and only bite. The unseen adversary fought well but lacked the power of a Barbel and soon enough I slipped the net under a short but chunky Chub.

The old warrior looked like a 'four' all day long but fell just short weighing in at 3lb 14oz. I fished on but what was already a quiet swim had been disturbed and there were no more bites before the light disappeared completely.
Good to be outdoors but would have liked a bit more action. Next time....