It's been a funny old year. For one thing it doesn't seem to have stopped raining for more than a day at a time. I know it has. There was even a bit of a heatwave in May and early June when I did some lure fishing. But after that every time I got some enthusiasm to go fishing the rain would come back and put me off. It even scuppered my photography plans to visit country shows when three of them were abandoned at the last minute due to waterlogged fields. The last one of the season I did manage to get to saw me getting my car stuck!
I went for a walk along a small local river this afternoon and that was up, pushing through but dropping, and heavily coloured. It looked quite appealing. So much so that I dug out my ten foot Avon rod when I got home. Then it started to rain yet again and a quick check of the forecast put thoughts of starting the New Year there out of my mind. It's been tipping it down all evening. I hope next year is drier.
Looking back I've not done much fishing at all in 2017. I haven't got half way through the notebook I use as my fishing log book. Most years past they've been at least three quarters filled. I've not even targeted any big fish. Those days are over for me I think. Not least because the few 'bigger' fish I've caught over the last twelve months haven't made much of an impression on me. The roach I caught on barbel gear didn't get weighed, and I didn't bother with a self-take picture of what was my biggest 'by design' eel (because I didn't realise that's what it was at the time...). Despite my winter piking being less successful than in previous years I still managed to catch one good one on a lure. So my fish of the year list is a bit thin this time round. That said, when I was a teenager fish of these sizes would have been unimaginable to me. Strange how our perspectives change.
Barbel - 8lb 15oz
Eel - 3lb 10oz
Pike - 19lb 0oz
Roach - didn't weigh, but should have!
Showing posts with label roach. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roach. Show all posts
Sunday, December 31, 2017
Thursday, August 10, 2017
I can see clearly now
This summer really hasn't managed to make its mind up. Which has meant the river going up and down like... You think of an analogy! A week ago it was up and rising as the rain continued to fall. If I wasn't out of touch with its moods and flows I'd have made a better job of things and not moved into a swim I should have started in as the water rose. I have no excuses for blanking. It was incompetence.
Yesterday evening saw me back fishing a river that was falling slowly having dropped and risen since my previous visit. This time my choice was improved. Although I seem to have forgotten some of the lessons I learned years back. Such as where the snags are in a certain swim. After losing a lead, and then a hook and lead when picking up the rod to deal with a take found everything solid, it came back to me that you don't cast upstream from this spot. That take was yet again to the rod fishing three 8mm crab pellets.I was beginning to wonder if the barbel have lost their taste for what used to be my favourite boilie which I was fishing on the other rod. I'd yet to have a take on them.
Fitting new isotopes to my rods at the start of the week had been worthwhile. Even before it was fully dark I could see them glowing brightly. I gave my rod rest heads another spray of white paint while I was at it. Much easier to locate in the dark now.
At ten thirty or so the same rod tip gave a series of short taps. At first I thought the fish was an eel as it felt to be wriggling. Then it felt like it had dropped off. Then it came back! Seeing it in the torchlight, along with a couple of bats flying around the line, I thought it was a small chub but as it slid to hand I realised it wasn't. Three 8mm pellets aren't what I'd set out to catch roach with. If it was a roach and not a roach/chub. I didn't bother weighing it, whatever it was.
As I was slipping the fish back I heard the baitrunner on the downstream rod whirring slowly. The barbel do still like the boilies. Just as well as I have a full bag of them to use up. I am well out of practice at guessing how big barbel are. This one bulldogged and I was sure it was going to be my biggest of the season. It turned out to be the smallest. Just.
The moon began to rise casting an eerie light on the trees and cows behind me. Owls hooted. The placid swan paid me a visit. I think it likes company being the only trumpeter on the river. Firstly it dabbled in the margins under my rods, then it waddled up the bank and began to graze a little, but mostly just stand there. Nice to see it's still around. Unlike mute swans it's not a pesterer.
I had a few chub rattles to both rods, but that was my lot. Lead losses diminished as I got my casting bearings.There was a dew forming on my gear as I packed away at twelve fifteen and set off home. Not long after taking the turning out of the valley my headlights caught a lean fox jumping through a hedge and speeding across the road.
Yesterday evening saw me back fishing a river that was falling slowly having dropped and risen since my previous visit. This time my choice was improved. Although I seem to have forgotten some of the lessons I learned years back. Such as where the snags are in a certain swim. After losing a lead, and then a hook and lead when picking up the rod to deal with a take found everything solid, it came back to me that you don't cast upstream from this spot. That take was yet again to the rod fishing three 8mm crab pellets.I was beginning to wonder if the barbel have lost their taste for what used to be my favourite boilie which I was fishing on the other rod. I'd yet to have a take on them.
Fitting new isotopes to my rods at the start of the week had been worthwhile. Even before it was fully dark I could see them glowing brightly. I gave my rod rest heads another spray of white paint while I was at it. Much easier to locate in the dark now.
At ten thirty or so the same rod tip gave a series of short taps. At first I thought the fish was an eel as it felt to be wriggling. Then it felt like it had dropped off. Then it came back! Seeing it in the torchlight, along with a couple of bats flying around the line, I thought it was a small chub but as it slid to hand I realised it wasn't. Three 8mm pellets aren't what I'd set out to catch roach with. If it was a roach and not a roach/chub. I didn't bother weighing it, whatever it was.
As I was slipping the fish back I heard the baitrunner on the downstream rod whirring slowly. The barbel do still like the boilies. Just as well as I have a full bag of them to use up. I am well out of practice at guessing how big barbel are. This one bulldogged and I was sure it was going to be my biggest of the season. It turned out to be the smallest. Just.
The moon began to rise casting an eerie light on the trees and cows behind me. Owls hooted. The placid swan paid me a visit. I think it likes company being the only trumpeter on the river. Firstly it dabbled in the margins under my rods, then it waddled up the bank and began to graze a little, but mostly just stand there. Nice to see it's still around. Unlike mute swans it's not a pesterer.
I had a few chub rattles to both rods, but that was my lot. Lead losses diminished as I got my casting bearings.There was a dew forming on my gear as I packed away at twelve fifteen and set off home. Not long after taking the turning out of the valley my headlights caught a lean fox jumping through a hedge and speeding across the road.
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Time for a break?
Another frustrating piking blank the other day has just about finished me off. When I fished with Nige Grassby a lot he had a knack of picking a rod up, giving the bait a twitch and getting a take. If that didn't work a pike would grab the deadbait as he wound it slowly back. Whenever I tried that I would twitch the rig into a snag. I certainly don't remember catching any pike doing it. Yet twice last time out I had baits nailed as they got close to the bank. Had the high pressure got them on the lookout for moving targets? The first time the pike didn't do much, and I think it might have dropped the bait. The second time it was definitely moving off with the lamprey head. I still managed to miss it. The bottom hook was free of the bait when I wound it in. Maybe it had been loose when I struck. I'll never know.
I'll also never know how big these fish were. Pikers often console themselves when they miss a take by saying it must have been a jack. Sometimes it will be. But what about those times the bait looks like a chainsaw victim? Long, deep slices across it. Missed takes aren't always from small pike. Big ones can be picky too.
With frost forming on the rods, net, unhooking mat and everything else close to the ground I packed up in the dark. The main reason I'd gone in the first place was to see if putting reflective tape on a float would make fishing into dark easier without resorting to isotopes or starlights. Not using bobbins as well as floats it's hard to detect takes which don't steam off and take line when the float is hard to see. The reason I got the last take was because I was winding the rig in few yards at a time to keep it visible in the gathering gloom. The tape worked. I didn't really need to put my head torch on full beam to pick the float out. A camera's flash really picked it out for a photo. I'm not sure I'll be bothering again though. However I did notice that when the sun shone on the tape it stood out well against a dark background. So there might be more mileage in the idea.
On that downer I decided against a final piking trip today. Regardless of my lack of success I just don't feel motivated to fish for pike at the moment. Daft as it seems I still find myself wanting to catch eels! With that in mind, a mind currently preoccupied with photography plans, I think I'll give the fishing a break for a while. Possibly until the weather warms up, the days lengthen, and I can face spending a night or two each week under the stars. Although I'm sure I'll start getting withdrawal symptoms long before April.
This lack of enthusiasm might also be a combination of having I've fished myself out this year and rapidly encroaching old age. Certainly during the summer I seemed to be going a lot, and catching regularly. There aren't many pages left in my little Black n' Red notebook either. I'm certainly not feeling as young as I used to...
While the sizes of fish I've caught haven't been huge they have been acceptable to me, especially considering I haven't left the county to catch any of them. Lancashire isn't exactly a Mecca for specimen hunters.
I'll also never know how big these fish were. Pikers often console themselves when they miss a take by saying it must have been a jack. Sometimes it will be. But what about those times the bait looks like a chainsaw victim? Long, deep slices across it. Missed takes aren't always from small pike. Big ones can be picky too.
With frost forming on the rods, net, unhooking mat and everything else close to the ground I packed up in the dark. The main reason I'd gone in the first place was to see if putting reflective tape on a float would make fishing into dark easier without resorting to isotopes or starlights. Not using bobbins as well as floats it's hard to detect takes which don't steam off and take line when the float is hard to see. The reason I got the last take was because I was winding the rig in few yards at a time to keep it visible in the gathering gloom. The tape worked. I didn't really need to put my head torch on full beam to pick the float out. A camera's flash really picked it out for a photo. I'm not sure I'll be bothering again though. However I did notice that when the sun shone on the tape it stood out well against a dark background. So there might be more mileage in the idea.
On that downer I decided against a final piking trip today. Regardless of my lack of success I just don't feel motivated to fish for pike at the moment. Daft as it seems I still find myself wanting to catch eels! With that in mind, a mind currently preoccupied with photography plans, I think I'll give the fishing a break for a while. Possibly until the weather warms up, the days lengthen, and I can face spending a night or two each week under the stars. Although I'm sure I'll start getting withdrawal symptoms long before April.
This lack of enthusiasm might also be a combination of having I've fished myself out this year and rapidly encroaching old age. Certainly during the summer I seemed to be going a lot, and catching regularly. There aren't many pages left in my little Black n' Red notebook either. I'm certainly not feeling as young as I used to...
While the sizes of fish I've caught haven't been huge they have been acceptable to me, especially considering I haven't left the county to catch any of them. Lancashire isn't exactly a Mecca for specimen hunters.
- Bream - 7-12
- Carp -21-08
- Eel - 4-01
- Roach -1-10
- Tench - 6-06
- Pike -18-10
Thursday, June 09, 2016
Variety
No matter how much fishing you do it always finds a way to prove you wrong. Recently I'd been thinking about my lack of roach on fake baits despite having caught them on other maggots and boilies from waters where I've used plastic for tench a great deal. Then, right out of the blue, I catch roach on imitation baits on two trips to a water. Half a dozen over a pound to fake corn and pellets! There's no rhyme or reason to it. If it hadn't been for the one on the pellet, fished with a small bag of real pellets on the hook, I might have put it down to a bed of hemp and corn. Although I've used that baiting approach for tench plenty of times. No. Fish are perplexing. Which is why we keep trying to catch them.
The first encounter with plastic eating roach also resulted in some plastic eating tench, and some that showed no fear of the scary boilies. It's all too easy to write a bait off as useless on the basis of a couple of blank sessions. I reckon most baits are acceptable to most fish most of the time. The main reason they don't catch is not having any fish find them. The next reason is them being presented in a way that is ineffective. Over a prolonged period some baits may appear to be more successful for certain species than others, but even then it might just be a coincidence.
Not only have I caught roach on plastic corn, I've also had a small rudd pick a grain up. The list of species I've caught on static fake baits keeps on growing.
Catching roach on tench rods isn't a lot of fun when they're towing round two ounce leads. I'll have to have a go for them with the right gear later in the year. I'm not sure I'll be brave enough to go all out on the plastic baits for them, but I might chance it on one rod.
Using bits of foam as surface baits counts as using fake baits in my book. And the chance of some easy action from the suicidal Railway Pond fish is hard to resist when the weather is hot and I've an hour or three to spare.
It seems that the bigger fish hang back from the ravening hordes of piranhas, picking off the mixers they miss. Not that I've landed anything big, big, but big is relative. One advantage of the foam is that the little pests mostly can't manage to get it in their gobs. Trying to avoid the tiny fish is the hardest thing at this place, and what keeps me going back I think.
Common blue damsels are, well, common. Four-spotted chasers and black-tailed skimmers fairly numerous. I've even seen a lone banded demoiselle. Watching these insects go about their business to the aural accompaniment of reed warblers on a sweltering afternoon is a certain sign that summer is in full swing.
I'm gradually getting organised for my short sessions. I still try taking too much gear with me though, and am wondering if doing it the way I do for my winter piking might not be a better idea - sling, rucky, chair. Still, the little bits bag I bought holds my essentials with room for more. I even found a smaller pouch for my compact camera than the one I'd been using. It fits in the bits bag quite neatly, as does my notebook, headtorch, radio, sounder box, permits and sunglasses. It's a two-sided bag with a centre flap that Velcros to form a lid for one or other of the sides. Not perfect, but it'll do for now.
On yesterday's short session, the plastic pellet not only accounted for a roach, it was picked up by the mug tench, which has put on a bit of weight. These two fish managed to christen one of my ten foot Torrixes. Christened but not tested as neither of them did much in the way of pulling back. The tench felt like a bream all the way in until it was under the rod tip. The roach felt like a bit of weed on the hook.
The first encounter with plastic eating roach also resulted in some plastic eating tench, and some that showed no fear of the scary boilies. It's all too easy to write a bait off as useless on the basis of a couple of blank sessions. I reckon most baits are acceptable to most fish most of the time. The main reason they don't catch is not having any fish find them. The next reason is them being presented in a way that is ineffective. Over a prolonged period some baits may appear to be more successful for certain species than others, but even then it might just be a coincidence.
Not only have I caught roach on plastic corn, I've also had a small rudd pick a grain up. The list of species I've caught on static fake baits keeps on growing.
Catching roach on tench rods isn't a lot of fun when they're towing round two ounce leads. I'll have to have a go for them with the right gear later in the year. I'm not sure I'll be brave enough to go all out on the plastic baits for them, but I might chance it on one rod.
Using bits of foam as surface baits counts as using fake baits in my book. And the chance of some easy action from the suicidal Railway Pond fish is hard to resist when the weather is hot and I've an hour or three to spare.
It seems that the bigger fish hang back from the ravening hordes of piranhas, picking off the mixers they miss. Not that I've landed anything big, big, but big is relative. One advantage of the foam is that the little pests mostly can't manage to get it in their gobs. Trying to avoid the tiny fish is the hardest thing at this place, and what keeps me going back I think.
Common blue damsels are, well, common. Four-spotted chasers and black-tailed skimmers fairly numerous. I've even seen a lone banded demoiselle. Watching these insects go about their business to the aural accompaniment of reed warblers on a sweltering afternoon is a certain sign that summer is in full swing.

On yesterday's short session, the plastic pellet not only accounted for a roach, it was picked up by the mug tench, which has put on a bit of weight. These two fish managed to christen one of my ten foot Torrixes. Christened but not tested as neither of them did much in the way of pulling back. The tench felt like a bream all the way in until it was under the rod tip. The roach felt like a bit of weed on the hook.
Thursday, January 28, 2016
Downs and ups
A run of blanks does nothing to encourage me to try again. Only a bit of nice weather will tempt me out when that's happening. Sunday was another of those excessively mild January days, for once without the blight of rain. I gave the roach another try. The result was the same as last time. An early bite followed by bog all. To rub salt into my wounds a carp popped its head out right in front of me. I'm sure it was laughing.
There had been a fairly strong westerly blowing putting the kind of ripple on the water that made me want to get the pike rods out. When Wednesday came around and boredom set in with varnish and glue drying and my next batch of blanks still being rolled (if I'm lucky...) the easy option was taken. The pike rods are permanently set up in a quiver. All I added was my 45 inch brolly as there was rain due in around dusk. I grabbed the carrier bag of deadbaits from my last pike session. Didn't bother filling a flask and set off.
I was aghast to see the car park full and carp anglers blighting the lake. It was almost a turn round and go elsewhere job but a quick scout revealed that the carpers were shoaled up leaving plenty of room for some semi-mobile piking.
As it turned out a mate of mine was also piking and in the swim next to one I fancied - we both had the same idea to keep the strong wind off our backs. The wind was both stronger and cooler than it had been on Sunday, but by no means cold. Conditions looked good and my friend had had some action. While chatting I mentioned that twitching baits only ever resulted in me finding snags. Why I bothered twitching one of my baits I don't know. It was snagged when I came to move it for a recast. Only in some of last summer's weed. But my point was proved. After an hour and a half I was itching for a move. The swim opposite looked inviting, despite the wind blowing straight into that bank. I upped sticks intending to give it no more than an hour.
Luckily there was a willow bush to give me some protection from the wind. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it might have been. The bluey tail that had got snagged was in a bit of a state and not fit for a long cast, so it got dropped by the willow. A spot that usually harbours a jack. The lamprey head got the big heave and the herring tail went to my left.
I waved farewell to my mate when he left for home and thought I'd have a recast. I picked up the herring rod, gave the reel handle a couple of turns and felt something pulling back. Just as I always snag up twitching baits I never get takes on the retrieve. Being taken by surprise I snatched the bait out of the pike's gob! The bait got dropped back whence it came.
As if the rain had read the forecast it arrived spot on time. Out with the brolly and fight with it against the wind to get it opened out. This proved doubly difficult thanks to one of the ribs popping our of the hinge mechanism and jambing against the cover. Once that was sorted I shoved the pole as far into the soft ground as I could and pegged the guy ropes down. Thankfully the shower passed fairly quickly. Out of the blue there were a couple of bleeps from the sounder in my fleece pocket. The lamprey head was away.
I grabbed the net and wound down to the fish. It didn't feel particularly large, but at a reasonable distance and with the pike not fighting much on previous trips I wasn't making any firm predictions. When it rose to the surface and I could see the top treble was clear of the fish, and the bottom treble right at the tip of its snout, I was prepared for it to get off should it go through the old headshake routine. Although the head was shaken the hook stayed in place. No problem with the flying treble at the netting either.
Once lifted ashore the hook finally came free saving me the trouble of using the forceps. Lengthwise it looked a scraper double, but once more there was a flabby belly. A head covered in leeches made me think it might have just come on the feed. A quick trip into the sling and the scales showed that it would make ten pounds after a decent meal.
There was still time for a move, but a couple of takes in this spot gave me hope of something better at last knockings. The rain clouds were building too. However they scudded away to the south and a briefly colourful sunset followed.
The hoped for monster requiring the headtorch to read the scales failed to show up and I slipped and slid my way back through the mud to the car.
This morning I attacked my umbrella with a pair of pliers and a bit of stainless steel wire to replace the rivet that had popped out. That's three such repairs I've carried out on this brolly. Only five more ribs to do!
On the rod building front I've just complete a set of three P-1s with a slightly different handle configuration. It's one I didn't think I'd like the look of, but it's turned out better than anticipated.I think the collars and winding check help the look, and the gunsmoke reel seat - which matches will with an Ultra Matt blank finish and SiC rings.
There had been a fairly strong westerly blowing putting the kind of ripple on the water that made me want to get the pike rods out. When Wednesday came around and boredom set in with varnish and glue drying and my next batch of blanks still being rolled (if I'm lucky...) the easy option was taken. The pike rods are permanently set up in a quiver. All I added was my 45 inch brolly as there was rain due in around dusk. I grabbed the carrier bag of deadbaits from my last pike session. Didn't bother filling a flask and set off.
I was aghast to see the car park full and carp anglers blighting the lake. It was almost a turn round and go elsewhere job but a quick scout revealed that the carpers were shoaled up leaving plenty of room for some semi-mobile piking.
As it turned out a mate of mine was also piking and in the swim next to one I fancied - we both had the same idea to keep the strong wind off our backs. The wind was both stronger and cooler than it had been on Sunday, but by no means cold. Conditions looked good and my friend had had some action. While chatting I mentioned that twitching baits only ever resulted in me finding snags. Why I bothered twitching one of my baits I don't know. It was snagged when I came to move it for a recast. Only in some of last summer's weed. But my point was proved. After an hour and a half I was itching for a move. The swim opposite looked inviting, despite the wind blowing straight into that bank. I upped sticks intending to give it no more than an hour.
Luckily there was a willow bush to give me some protection from the wind. It wasn't as uncomfortable as it might have been. The bluey tail that had got snagged was in a bit of a state and not fit for a long cast, so it got dropped by the willow. A spot that usually harbours a jack. The lamprey head got the big heave and the herring tail went to my left.
I waved farewell to my mate when he left for home and thought I'd have a recast. I picked up the herring rod, gave the reel handle a couple of turns and felt something pulling back. Just as I always snag up twitching baits I never get takes on the retrieve. Being taken by surprise I snatched the bait out of the pike's gob! The bait got dropped back whence it came.
As if the rain had read the forecast it arrived spot on time. Out with the brolly and fight with it against the wind to get it opened out. This proved doubly difficult thanks to one of the ribs popping our of the hinge mechanism and jambing against the cover. Once that was sorted I shoved the pole as far into the soft ground as I could and pegged the guy ropes down. Thankfully the shower passed fairly quickly. Out of the blue there were a couple of bleeps from the sounder in my fleece pocket. The lamprey head was away.

Once lifted ashore the hook finally came free saving me the trouble of using the forceps. Lengthwise it looked a scraper double, but once more there was a flabby belly. A head covered in leeches made me think it might have just come on the feed. A quick trip into the sling and the scales showed that it would make ten pounds after a decent meal.
There was still time for a move, but a couple of takes in this spot gave me hope of something better at last knockings. The rain clouds were building too. However they scudded away to the south and a briefly colourful sunset followed.
The hoped for monster requiring the headtorch to read the scales failed to show up and I slipped and slid my way back through the mud to the car.
This morning I attacked my umbrella with a pair of pliers and a bit of stainless steel wire to replace the rivet that had popped out. That's three such repairs I've carried out on this brolly. Only five more ribs to do!
On the rod building front I've just complete a set of three P-1s with a slightly different handle configuration. It's one I didn't think I'd like the look of, but it's turned out better than anticipated.I think the collars and winding check help the look, and the gunsmoke reel seat - which matches will with an Ultra Matt blank finish and SiC rings.
Wednesday, January 06, 2016
Carrying on as I left off
New Year's Day saw me dropping in on a couple of friends having a pike session. I hadn't planned on fishing and actually had my camera gear with me to go do some photography. But on the way back to the car one swim I'd never fished looked inviting. The afternoon was warm and not too bright so I headed home, hastily swapped cameras for rods and went back to the swim. Three hours and one move later I packed up in the drizzle and went home with nothing to show for my trouble.
Today the England cricket team were facing a humiliating draw at best in the second test in South Africa when I took the maggots I'd bought before Christmas out of the fridge for a trip to Goat Lake. The sun was shining and it felt more like spring than winter. The thought of a roving pike session didn't fill me with enthusiasm, but sitting in one place replenishing feeders into dark did. A roaching I would go.
By the time I'd marked my lines, mixed my hemp and Explosive Feeder groundbait and got all three rigs in place the sun had disappeared and the distant woods were hiding behind a blue-grey haze.
As the weather hasn't turned really cold so far this winter I opted for a not too deep spot but still I wasn't too sure on my choice of swim.When I had a couple of bites in quick succession after just twenty minutes I felt more content. It was another hour before I had a clonking drop-back to the left hand rod. Nothing was hooking itself though. Then I started brining in skins without having had a bit registered. Small roach or crap rigs? As all activity dried up I'll never know.
Although I knew it would be overload for my Avons I took my new Fox Spombalike with me to try out. It works, and will come in handy this spring for getting some tench bait out. I thought the thing looked a bit like a puffer fish. So I stuck a couple of eyes on it!
With the fish apparently having buggered off I fished about half an hour into dark. It wasn't bitter cold and I almost got the urge to do an all nighter. But when I worked out how long darkness lasts at this time of year I put my next overnight session back until April....
One problem with this place is that when the wind is in a certain direction, just as the hunger pangs kick in, the local chip shop fires up it's deep fat fryers and the scent of fish and chips blows across the water. I think that contributed to me earlier than planned departure and my stopping at the other chippy on my way home.
At least I've made a start on the roach fishing. Now I know where not to fish I can try again in another area. I'll make an earlier start next time to give me longer to get some bait down and alter one of my rigs to see if that makes a difference or not. That's my intention. There's always a chance I'll do something completely different.
Today the England cricket team were facing a humiliating draw at best in the second test in South Africa when I took the maggots I'd bought before Christmas out of the fridge for a trip to Goat Lake. The sun was shining and it felt more like spring than winter. The thought of a roving pike session didn't fill me with enthusiasm, but sitting in one place replenishing feeders into dark did. A roaching I would go.
By the time I'd marked my lines, mixed my hemp and Explosive Feeder groundbait and got all three rigs in place the sun had disappeared and the distant woods were hiding behind a blue-grey haze.
As the weather hasn't turned really cold so far this winter I opted for a not too deep spot but still I wasn't too sure on my choice of swim.When I had a couple of bites in quick succession after just twenty minutes I felt more content. It was another hour before I had a clonking drop-back to the left hand rod. Nothing was hooking itself though. Then I started brining in skins without having had a bit registered. Small roach or crap rigs? As all activity dried up I'll never know.
Although I knew it would be overload for my Avons I took my new Fox Spombalike with me to try out. It works, and will come in handy this spring for getting some tench bait out. I thought the thing looked a bit like a puffer fish. So I stuck a couple of eyes on it!
With the fish apparently having buggered off I fished about half an hour into dark. It wasn't bitter cold and I almost got the urge to do an all nighter. But when I worked out how long darkness lasts at this time of year I put my next overnight session back until April....
One problem with this place is that when the wind is in a certain direction, just as the hunger pangs kick in, the local chip shop fires up it's deep fat fryers and the scent of fish and chips blows across the water. I think that contributed to me earlier than planned departure and my stopping at the other chippy on my way home.
At least I've made a start on the roach fishing. Now I know where not to fish I can try again in another area. I'll make an earlier start next time to give me longer to get some bait down and alter one of my rigs to see if that makes a difference or not. That's my intention. There's always a chance I'll do something completely different.
Wednesday, November 04, 2015
Piking again
It's been combination of work and lethargy that's been keeping me away from the water for a while. After my Railway Pond carp campaign came to a quick end I've been struggling to to find an incentive to catch fish.
There was a brief dabble at starting an evening roach campaign. Trouble was the roach didn't want to join in and I gave up after the one session. Forgetting the hemp to put in my feed didn't help my confidence and I really should have fished a spot that's produced before instead of one that has never thrown up a roach for me.
Eventually the cold turkey got too much for me and this afternoon was set fair. No rain, not too cold and not unseasonably hot. As soon as play at the test match finished for the day I was on my way to the Blue Lagoon armed with the pike rods still set up from my last session in March, and the same carrier bag of deadbaits I'd thrown in the freezer back then. There didn't seem to be much point in putting any new baits in as what was there looked good enough for three hours fishing.
Luckily enough the swim I had last fished for pike was free. Not surprising as I couldn't see anyone else fishing! The beauty of braid is that knots don't deteriorate. The traces hadn't rusted over the summer so I hooked a bait on each one and cast them out. Jack herring to the left, a headless joey straight out on a decent chuck and a rather freezer burned lamprey tail in the right hand margin. There wasn't much avian activity. A noisy wren in the reeds was about it until a great crested grebe arrived in it's dull winter plumage matching the grey clouded sky.
I'd kept the weight down in the rucksack by leaving the flask at home and just having a bottle of water as it wasn't cold enough to need a warming brew. The quiver was similarly lightened by leaving the brolly at home. I'm sure it's those two items that weigh me down most.
After half an hour I twitched the distant bait. Fifteen minuets later I recast all three. It was only a matter of a few more minutes until I noticed the right hand rod top knock, the float bob and begin to move under the overhanging hawthorn. The baitrunner was knocked off and I wound into a pike which felt a bit like it might be a decent one, particularly when it pulled the P-5 right over. Fish always feel like they fight harder when they have enough depth to dive straight down under the rod tip rather than having to run away rom you in shallow water.
Once in the net I wasn't so sure about the size of the fish. In the sling it looked on the skinny side, managing to spin the needle round past the nine pound mark but not much further.
It was almost time for a move, so I did. The two baits which hadn't been taken were still in good enough shape and the herring again went out to my left, close in, the macky hurled as far as I could. Then I got a fresh lamprey head out and dropped that hastily in the right hand margin as something was playing with the mackerel.
By the time I picked the middle rod up the bait had been dropped. I retrieved it to find it a mangled mess. Not too mangled to use though. I found some solid flesh to stick the end treble that had come free in and belted it back out whence it came. With the float cocked and the 'runner set I wound in the lamprey to position it more to my liking. Only I had to swing it back out quickly because the macky was on the move again!
This time I connected with what felt like a small pike, and so it was. As is often the case with small pike it proved to be more trouble in the net than on the end of the line. Despite being lightly hooked the thing had to be untangled, and the trace was a mess that took some straightening out. With everything back to normal I eventually got all three baits positioned where I was happy with them.
After an hour I was contemplating a move. There wasn't much to move to and I thought the light would be gone quickly. As it turned out the light stayed good enough for another hour. I should have made that move because the floats didn't.
There are still leaves clinging to the trees that a good blow will soon shift. The lily pads are well on their way out. A flock of fieldfares flew over towards dusk. The haws on the bushes will be under attack from them soon enough round the lake. Despite it being twelve degrees it's beginning to feel like winter is on its way now. More piking, or get the roach rods back in action? Perhaps I could travel light for pike when the weather is set fair and a brolly won't be needed and go roaching when the forecast is doubtful? Or perhaps lethargy will get the better of me again!
There was a brief dabble at starting an evening roach campaign. Trouble was the roach didn't want to join in and I gave up after the one session. Forgetting the hemp to put in my feed didn't help my confidence and I really should have fished a spot that's produced before instead of one that has never thrown up a roach for me.
Eventually the cold turkey got too much for me and this afternoon was set fair. No rain, not too cold and not unseasonably hot. As soon as play at the test match finished for the day I was on my way to the Blue Lagoon armed with the pike rods still set up from my last session in March, and the same carrier bag of deadbaits I'd thrown in the freezer back then. There didn't seem to be much point in putting any new baits in as what was there looked good enough for three hours fishing.
Luckily enough the swim I had last fished for pike was free. Not surprising as I couldn't see anyone else fishing! The beauty of braid is that knots don't deteriorate. The traces hadn't rusted over the summer so I hooked a bait on each one and cast them out. Jack herring to the left, a headless joey straight out on a decent chuck and a rather freezer burned lamprey tail in the right hand margin. There wasn't much avian activity. A noisy wren in the reeds was about it until a great crested grebe arrived in it's dull winter plumage matching the grey clouded sky.
I'd kept the weight down in the rucksack by leaving the flask at home and just having a bottle of water as it wasn't cold enough to need a warming brew. The quiver was similarly lightened by leaving the brolly at home. I'm sure it's those two items that weigh me down most.
After half an hour I twitched the distant bait. Fifteen minuets later I recast all three. It was only a matter of a few more minutes until I noticed the right hand rod top knock, the float bob and begin to move under the overhanging hawthorn. The baitrunner was knocked off and I wound into a pike which felt a bit like it might be a decent one, particularly when it pulled the P-5 right over. Fish always feel like they fight harder when they have enough depth to dive straight down under the rod tip rather than having to run away rom you in shallow water.

It was almost time for a move, so I did. The two baits which hadn't been taken were still in good enough shape and the herring again went out to my left, close in, the macky hurled as far as I could. Then I got a fresh lamprey head out and dropped that hastily in the right hand margin as something was playing with the mackerel.
By the time I picked the middle rod up the bait had been dropped. I retrieved it to find it a mangled mess. Not too mangled to use though. I found some solid flesh to stick the end treble that had come free in and belted it back out whence it came. With the float cocked and the 'runner set I wound in the lamprey to position it more to my liking. Only I had to swing it back out quickly because the macky was on the move again!
This time I connected with what felt like a small pike, and so it was. As is often the case with small pike it proved to be more trouble in the net than on the end of the line. Despite being lightly hooked the thing had to be untangled, and the trace was a mess that took some straightening out. With everything back to normal I eventually got all three baits positioned where I was happy with them.
After an hour I was contemplating a move. There wasn't much to move to and I thought the light would be gone quickly. As it turned out the light stayed good enough for another hour. I should have made that move because the floats didn't.
There are still leaves clinging to the trees that a good blow will soon shift. The lily pads are well on their way out. A flock of fieldfares flew over towards dusk. The haws on the bushes will be under attack from them soon enough round the lake. Despite it being twelve degrees it's beginning to feel like winter is on its way now. More piking, or get the roach rods back in action? Perhaps I could travel light for pike when the weather is set fair and a brolly won't be needed and go roaching when the forecast is doubtful? Or perhaps lethargy will get the better of me again!
Thursday, March 26, 2015
Moving with the times
After videoing the frogs in my pond I thought I'd also try my hand at what seems to be taking over fishing blogging for people who can't write - video. Way back I made a few clips with my old cameras when fishing, but things really have moved on in just as few years. Even compacts can produce high quality results. I don't own, and have no plans to buy, a GoPro with it's give-away neo-fisheye lens that gives every video shot with one the same look. Fine for point-of-view footage, but it becomes tedious when used for everything.

Two rods fished open end feeders filled with crumb and pellet mix with maggots on the size 20 hooks - a single maggot on one, two on the other. These were cast out to a marked spot. The third rod had the in-line feeder, and a small piece of fake corn as bait. This was chucked as far as I could get it and left to its own devices.
The afternoon was warm with little wind. Most pleasant to sit back and soak up some sun between re-filling feeders and recasting. A nice relaxing way to spend some time after the frantic (by my standards!) rod building of the last month.
When the sounder started to bleep I was amazed to see the spool spin briefly on the corn rod before the bobbin dropped back. A liner? I wound the rig in to find the stop above the feeder had slipped. A take. Back out went the rig.
The light breeze, only just enough to ruffle the water, swung through 180 degrees. A dabchick cruised round a bush and crash-dived when it spotted me. Canada geese made a racket. Around four thirty the temperature started to drop. I'd worked up a sweat walking to the swim and had removed my fleece from under the bunny suit before tackling up. It was warm but not warm enough for me to manage without the suit. I was glad to put the fleece back on and replace my baseball cap with the woolly one. Not to mention put on my fleece mitts.
It was ten past five when the sounder warbled again. This time the same spool was spinning steadily. I lifted the rod and felt a fish. Not knowing what to expect I knocked the anti-reverse off just in case it was something verminous. It didn't seem to be. In fact it felt like a roach. No runs just a slowly zig-zagging path back towards me with a few gentle head-shakes. IT felt like a decent roach too. Under the rod tip I had to steer it away from the other two lines to prevent an almighty mess. Been there. Don't want to do that again. When the fish popped up it had a red eye. It's scales weren't large and silvery though. They were tiny and olive green. As soon as the fish saw me it started to fight like a tench should!
Despite waking up it slid into the landing net at the first attempt. Far from a big tench, maybe a couple of pounds (or five to someone who never weighs tench...) at least it had saved a blank. But was it telling me something? Should I get the tench rods out?
When the light began to fade my hopes of a roach or two rose. It was not to be. The maggot bobbins didn't so much as flicker. My dilemma now is whether to have another roach session (I've bought some more feeders in case) or to break out the tench rods. Decisions, decisions.
Below is my cobbled together video footage. Watch and be bored to tears! The trouble with video is that to do it well you need to shoot a lot of footage, from different viewpoints simultaneously. You also realise you need things like external microphones to improve the sound quality. Then a few filters might come in handy and before you know it you're going fishing in order to make videos!
Labels:
photography,
roach,
tench,
video
Saturday, June 07, 2014
Before the rain came
Somehow or other I managed to get up early and to the water by four, rods out by half past. With the forecast being for the heavy showers of rain and hail accompanied by thunder and lightning I wanted to be doing the return journey before ten. All was quiet and still as I walked to the swim I had in mind. It was so warm that the fleece had to come off before I got the rods set up and the hemp fired out to left and right.
Rigs and baits were as usual. They're not working for the tench but I had no other options. The corn went to the right, a pellet to the left, both on in-line lead rigs. The third rod was cast straight out almost as far as I could manage. This was a helicopter rig baited with a pellet and the lead dropped in a small bag of mixed pellets.
Since last time out I'd re jigged the helicopter rig a little. I'd found a packet of some Korda quick change clips which looked like they'd do for attaching the lead to. It's only on helicopter rigs that I remove the leads when packing up. In-line leads pull off the swivel, slide down the line and nestle in the pocket of the quiver. The other modification I wanted to make was to do away with the bottom braid stop so the hooklink was trapped directly above the lead as this makes it a better set up for use with a bag in my experience. The John Roberts Buffer Bead sleeves the link and makes for a bottom stop the lower hard plastic bead can rest on. Everything else is as before.
With the attention I'd had over past sessions from unwanted bream I didn't feed any loose pellets with the hemp. I've never associated bream with hemp on its own, so my hope was they'd stay away from the two close range rods, and I'd take my chance on the distance rod and it's bag of bream food.
After an hour I started to get twitches to the left hand rod. Possibly liners. A few bubbles appeared over the hemp too. A breeze had sprung up making it a little cooler so the fleece had gone back on. Fifteen minutes later the rod pulled round and the bobbin dropped back. At first I thought I felt the jagging of a tench, but it soon turned into the dead weight of a bream. Not a big one either. I popped the hook out with the fish in the water and slipped it over the net cord.
Rods were rebaited and recast. More hemp fired out over the close range baits. A common tern flew around diving occasionally for small fry. Reed warblers chased each other over the margins. Sedge warblers chattered away. I drank tea.
An hour after the first signs of activity the middle rod was in action. If the line pulling tight can be classed as action. A four ounce roach was wound in and returned. It was only twenty minutes before the same rod showed a more positive indication - a short pull on the line followed by a big drop-back. That couldn't be a roach or a bream. On the longer line it seemed to be fighting a bit too. As it came closer it got more breamy. Rolling into the net it was still a bit breamy, a bit roachy too. As hybrids tend to be.
Another half hour passed. A light rain shower made me get the brolly up. A few minutes later it was down again, laid on the ground at the ready just in case. The middle rod was away again this time to a small bream. A slightly larger bream took the other pellet at ten to eight. Then things went quiet and I started to plan my escape as it was looking black over Bill's mother's.
Sure enough rain began to spatter the water. Having seen no signs of tench it seemed wise to get away before I got wet. I was back home having a brew when there was a cloudburst. Four hours later and that's been the sum total of the vile weather that was promised. A bit of drizzle has all that's been falling so far. It might turn up later I suppose.
Rigs and baits were as usual. They're not working for the tench but I had no other options. The corn went to the right, a pellet to the left, both on in-line lead rigs. The third rod was cast straight out almost as far as I could manage. This was a helicopter rig baited with a pellet and the lead dropped in a small bag of mixed pellets.
Since last time out I'd re jigged the helicopter rig a little. I'd found a packet of some Korda quick change clips which looked like they'd do for attaching the lead to. It's only on helicopter rigs that I remove the leads when packing up. In-line leads pull off the swivel, slide down the line and nestle in the pocket of the quiver. The other modification I wanted to make was to do away with the bottom braid stop so the hooklink was trapped directly above the lead as this makes it a better set up for use with a bag in my experience. The John Roberts Buffer Bead sleeves the link and makes for a bottom stop the lower hard plastic bead can rest on. Everything else is as before.
With the attention I'd had over past sessions from unwanted bream I didn't feed any loose pellets with the hemp. I've never associated bream with hemp on its own, so my hope was they'd stay away from the two close range rods, and I'd take my chance on the distance rod and it's bag of bream food.
After an hour I started to get twitches to the left hand rod. Possibly liners. A few bubbles appeared over the hemp too. A breeze had sprung up making it a little cooler so the fleece had gone back on. Fifteen minutes later the rod pulled round and the bobbin dropped back. At first I thought I felt the jagging of a tench, but it soon turned into the dead weight of a bream. Not a big one either. I popped the hook out with the fish in the water and slipped it over the net cord.
Rods were rebaited and recast. More hemp fired out over the close range baits. A common tern flew around diving occasionally for small fry. Reed warblers chased each other over the margins. Sedge warblers chattered away. I drank tea.
An hour after the first signs of activity the middle rod was in action. If the line pulling tight can be classed as action. A four ounce roach was wound in and returned. It was only twenty minutes before the same rod showed a more positive indication - a short pull on the line followed by a big drop-back. That couldn't be a roach or a bream. On the longer line it seemed to be fighting a bit too. As it came closer it got more breamy. Rolling into the net it was still a bit breamy, a bit roachy too. As hybrids tend to be.
Another half hour passed. A light rain shower made me get the brolly up. A few minutes later it was down again, laid on the ground at the ready just in case. The middle rod was away again this time to a small bream. A slightly larger bream took the other pellet at ten to eight. Then things went quiet and I started to plan my escape as it was looking black over Bill's mother's.
Sure enough rain began to spatter the water. Having seen no signs of tench it seemed wise to get away before I got wet. I was back home having a brew when there was a cloudburst. Four hours later and that's been the sum total of the vile weather that was promised. A bit of drizzle has all that's been falling so far. It might turn up later I suppose.
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Nuisance fish
One man's meat is another man's poison. Or maybe one man's fish is another man's pain in the arse! Recently Danny Fairbrass has caused a bit of a furore with his well intentioned plan to protect fisheries from otters. It's not the fencing off of waters that has caused the ripples of dissent, it was his big plan to turn the waters in to carp fisheries by removing the 'nuisance fish'. Those pesky lesser creatures which take carp anglers bait. You know the sort o thing, double figure tench and bream, three pound roach. That kind of pest. Leaving aside the ecological stupidity of creating carp monocultures (why not stick the carp in swimming pools if that's all you want to catch?) it is also condescending to anglers who like catching double figure tench and bream and three pound roach, doing nothing to foster the age old concept of 'brothers of the angle'. Today I was plagued by 'nuisance fish' and now completely understand the carp only mindset!
Arriving when it was just light enough to tie a knot without the illumination of a torch my first task was to put some feed out to a couple of spots within catapult range. This time I had no maggots so the feeder rod was out of the question. Two grains of plastic corn went to the right, an 8mm crab pellet to the left. On the third rod I opted to chance a couple of dendrobenas. It was a risk, but it might have a chance. With everything in place all I had to do was relax and wait for the tench to arrive.
It was a great morning to have got out of bed for. A large bat flew over and round as the sedge warblers and chiffchaffs joined in the dawn chorus. The sun began to poke its head over the horizon sending shafts of light through the trees and mist. Small fish plipped and plopped, larger fish crashed and rolled. But no signs of tench.
I always keep checking the rod tops and less than an hour after settling down I saw the right hand, corn, rod tip twitch a second before the bobbin dropped back flying up followed by the baitrunner and alarm complaining loudly as I headed to the rod. The fish felt like the tench of Monday, only heavier as it plodded through the weed. Then it took off on a subsurface run and raised doubts in my mind. This was either a bloody big tench for the water or it was a nuisance fish. As the fight went on my suspicions were confirmed and I stopped playing it like a tench and really gave it some stick. Once I got it's head out of the water I skimmed it into the net. At least it had a full complement of scales.
I suppose it wasn't a bad looking pest, and it had given the new 11ft 2lb Torrix a good work out, but it had torn up a load of weed and no doubt spooked any tench that might have been present out of the swim. I sorted the rod out, recast and put out more feed.
Twenty minutes later the left hand bobbin started jiggling, signalling a half-poundish roach. They do seem to like those crab pellets. Almost immediately the worm bobbin was doing something similar. The tell-tale writhing on the end of the line when I picked the rod up proved the risk hadn't paid off. A bootlace was swung in only to snap the mono hooklink. Saved me having to unhook the nuisance. That was the end of the worm experiment. Another pellet rig was tied up and the lead dropped in a bag of pellets which I cast out of the baited areas. It took almost two hours before that bobbin dropped back. There was nothing there, so I suspected more roach attention. Another bag was filled and the rig recast. Half an hour on and the left hand pellet was taken by another roach. Another thirty minutes later, after a couple more drop-backs, the other pellet rod produced another roach. This time I dropped it on the far end of the right hand baited patch
With the sun well up in the sky and it hot enough to strip down to my t-shirt the middle pellet rod was in action. The line tight and the reel spinning. Once more I initially hoped for a tench, but another subsurface run gave the game away. This time I took the gloves straight off. Nonetheless the pest cut up more weed and got round the right hand line before I could bundle it into the net. Not quite such a nice looking nuisance this on owing to a raw wound on its right flank.
With the mess in the line cut and the rig retied I put the baits back out followed by more bait. My hopes of tench were pretty much gone by now after that disturbance and the morning getting on. When another nuisance fish brushed one of my lines and bolted off spooking another of its ilk I knew it was time to start tidying things away and getting ready to leave. They'd have bullied any tench out of the area and I had no burning desire to catch any more of the pestilential creatures.
I suppose the positive from this session is the proving of the new rods. I have a good idea how much stick I can give fish with them, which is a fair bit, and know when they start to stiffen up. They're not quite in the class of the Interceptors in that respect, but they are way better than the 12ft 2lb Torrix. I think I can live with them. On the other hand I can live without any more nuisance fish. Maybe I should targeting the carp so the nuisances would be bearable!
Arriving when it was just light enough to tie a knot without the illumination of a torch my first task was to put some feed out to a couple of spots within catapult range. This time I had no maggots so the feeder rod was out of the question. Two grains of plastic corn went to the right, an 8mm crab pellet to the left. On the third rod I opted to chance a couple of dendrobenas. It was a risk, but it might have a chance. With everything in place all I had to do was relax and wait for the tench to arrive.
It was a great morning to have got out of bed for. A large bat flew over and round as the sedge warblers and chiffchaffs joined in the dawn chorus. The sun began to poke its head over the horizon sending shafts of light through the trees and mist. Small fish plipped and plopped, larger fish crashed and rolled. But no signs of tench.
I always keep checking the rod tops and less than an hour after settling down I saw the right hand, corn, rod tip twitch a second before the bobbin dropped back flying up followed by the baitrunner and alarm complaining loudly as I headed to the rod. The fish felt like the tench of Monday, only heavier as it plodded through the weed. Then it took off on a subsurface run and raised doubts in my mind. This was either a bloody big tench for the water or it was a nuisance fish. As the fight went on my suspicions were confirmed and I stopped playing it like a tench and really gave it some stick. Once I got it's head out of the water I skimmed it into the net. At least it had a full complement of scales.
I suppose it wasn't a bad looking pest, and it had given the new 11ft 2lb Torrix a good work out, but it had torn up a load of weed and no doubt spooked any tench that might have been present out of the swim. I sorted the rod out, recast and put out more feed.
Twenty minutes later the left hand bobbin started jiggling, signalling a half-poundish roach. They do seem to like those crab pellets. Almost immediately the worm bobbin was doing something similar. The tell-tale writhing on the end of the line when I picked the rod up proved the risk hadn't paid off. A bootlace was swung in only to snap the mono hooklink. Saved me having to unhook the nuisance. That was the end of the worm experiment. Another pellet rig was tied up and the lead dropped in a bag of pellets which I cast out of the baited areas. It took almost two hours before that bobbin dropped back. There was nothing there, so I suspected more roach attention. Another bag was filled and the rig recast. Half an hour on and the left hand pellet was taken by another roach. Another thirty minutes later, after a couple more drop-backs, the other pellet rod produced another roach. This time I dropped it on the far end of the right hand baited patch
With the sun well up in the sky and it hot enough to strip down to my t-shirt the middle pellet rod was in action. The line tight and the reel spinning. Once more I initially hoped for a tench, but another subsurface run gave the game away. This time I took the gloves straight off. Nonetheless the pest cut up more weed and got round the right hand line before I could bundle it into the net. Not quite such a nice looking nuisance this on owing to a raw wound on its right flank.
With the mess in the line cut and the rig retied I put the baits back out followed by more bait. My hopes of tench were pretty much gone by now after that disturbance and the morning getting on. When another nuisance fish brushed one of my lines and bolted off spooking another of its ilk I knew it was time to start tidying things away and getting ready to leave. They'd have bullied any tench out of the area and I had no burning desire to catch any more of the pestilential creatures.
I suppose the positive from this session is the proving of the new rods. I have a good idea how much stick I can give fish with them, which is a fair bit, and know when they start to stiffen up. They're not quite in the class of the Interceptors in that respect, but they are way better than the 12ft 2lb Torrix. I think I can live with them. On the other hand I can live without any more nuisance fish. Maybe I should targeting the carp so the nuisances would be bearable!
Monday, May 19, 2014
Carp, carp, carp

The start of the warm weather must have addled my brain. After a couple of hours I had had enough but stuck it out until dark for one pull to the right hand rod. It might have developed into something if I'd not left my drop-offs at home. then again it could well have been a carp picking up the worms. I didn't enjoy the place much. Too many carp anglers (three) and dog walkers (lots) for my liking! Still, when the tench have spawned then a night or two on the place might be in order.
What a difference a week makes, though. While there had been bottom weed about between the groups of lilies there was open surface water last time I'd fished. this time the whole place was choked beyond under-arm lobbing distance. Three swims were unfishable without the use of a rake. At least the swim I'd seen fish in was clear enough close in to get three baits out. Casting around with the rigs it was obvious that the clear spots on the bottom were small. It had to be PVA foam on all baits.
The in-line maggot feeder got the floating plastic maggots, the slow sink plastic corn on the helicopter got put on a long hooklink, and the pellet got dropped in the edge on a clear spot. Despite a liberal dose of hemp, corn and mixed pellets over all three baits the bobbins never moved. Few bubbles suggested fish feeding in the area. I fished until it was well dark and not even the rats came out to play. Another angler had caught a tench in a different area, which gave me some hope.
Sunday saw me wandering round the lake with my 'roids on sure of spotting some carp if nowt else. I saw one cruising, and more appeared to be spawning, or getting ready to. Even so I saw enough to make me chance a session in clearer water this morning. If I could drag myself out of bed.
Somehow I managed to get up at four and hit the road. The day was dawning during the drive, with the side window open I was accompanied by the dawn chorus all the way to the lake. There was a light mist hovering in a ban over the fields. An almost full, but waning, moon high in the clear sky. It felt tenchy.
On my way to my anticipated swim I passed an area where carp had gathered to spawn and saw signs of them swirling under the pads. It looked kind of tenchy there, but I knew it was weedy as hell. I wanted some cushy fishing for a change. With pads and weed to my right, open water in front and more pads in the left margin I chucked a feeder round to suss out the weed situation. Clear! That would do for me. I fed right and left with a couple of pints of hemp, corn and pellets before altering the rigs a little. Off with the popped up maggots and back on with the sinking casters, away with the long hooklink for the corn and back to a short one. The pellet rod only needed a fresh bait putting on the hair. With the baits in place I sat back to watch the sun rise, the mist swirl and look out for signs of tench.
It was less than an hour before the right hand feeder rod top was twitching and the alarm bleeping intermittently. Something small had hooked itself. It turned out to be a roach-bream hybrid of a pound or more. Not quite what I was hoping for, but after five blanks on the bounce it was most welcome. The tubercles on its head and rough feeling scales suggest it might be ready to spawn, or perhaps, like the bream at the carp lake, already spawned.
Something else tried to hang itself on that rig, but got free before I could get to the rod. Bubbles over the feed to the right encouraged me to keep topping the swim up with more hemp. The day and the fish were waking up. For all that's romantically written about tench feeding on still, warm, misty dawns I've found they prefer the sun on the water. Sure enough it hadn't long climbed above the tall willows when the right hand rod, fishing a pellet at right angles to the rod tip, hooped round decisively. So decisively that before I could pick it up it had bounced off the alarm!

On with a fresh pellet and top up both swims with more hemp and pellets. Shortly after the tench I had another of those jangly bites that refused to run or drop back. This time to the pellet. Another surprise capture. A half pound roach.
As the morning hotted up, my fleece had been abandoned before six, more patches of bubbles appeared over the right hand baited area. The corn rod tip nodded. There were fish in the swim. A tench had rolled in the weed beyond the pads. Hopes were rising.
It got warmer, a breeze ruffled the water for a few minutes before giving up. A scum of willow pollen and fallen catkins coated the surface, reminding me of days when it had blown onto the lines almost clogging them on other venues. This set me thinking about tench baits. For some reason I'd prefer not to catch them on pellets, but I have to admit there have been waters where the maggot feeder and plastic caster approach hasn't worked for me. It's not fared too well for the tench on this lake so far, but pellets have. It might be time to fish two rods on the pellets and one on corn.

Not a huge bream, but a nicely conditioned, brassy-flanked, six pounder. Another half hour was in order. I could manage that long without food. The last of the bait went out, followed by the rigs.
A couple of newly emerged damselflies fluttered into the hawthorns which are starting to show signs of going over now. The guelder rose is starting to bloom, to be followed by the elder, by which time summer will be upon us.
With no bites coming in the last thirty minutes I packed up, again, and sweated my way back to the car.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
So much for that plan
Sabbatical. What sabbatical?! A sunny afternoon temped me out to Goat Lake for a try at the roach. After a wander round to see what had changed since I last fished there in August I carted the gear to the same swim I roach-fished last time, about twelve months ago, and began casting around with an empty feeder to check the weed situation. As expected it was starting to grow and was quite thick in places, needing quite a pull to free the rig. Heading to deeper water found less weed but I wasn't sure that I fancied it there. Having found a line where it seemed reasonably clear in the original swim I started to set up stall.
Nothing much had changed in my approach. One block end feeder and two open enders. Two rigs fishing a single red maggot each and the other a sleeper with two hair rigged Sonu Band Ums for a laugh.
It was four thirty, warm in the sun but cool in the only shaded spot on the bank - where I was fishing... After half an hour I was losing hope. My heart wasn't in it for some reason. I ate my pork pies, drank some tea and thought about packing up around six at the latest. A sparrowhawk swooped over the water and up into a tree behind me. Chiiffchaffs and chaffinches sang their spring songs. It was a lovely afternoon turning to evening and I felt like I was wasting it. Rummaging around in my rucksack I found Fred. No sooner had I put him on watch than the middle alarm began to bleep and the rod top pull up. I lifted into what felt like a reasonable roach.
All thoughts of heading for home evaporated as the silvery flank flashed a few feet from the landing net before I managed to slide the fat fish into its folds. On the scales the plump and near-perfect fish went over a pound and a quarter. Well worth coming for.
With renewed enthusiasm I began recasting at more frequent intervals. Not every cast was landing clear, and I always wound in to find stringy pale-green silk weed on the rigs. Recasting regularly was a good idea to make sure the rigs were clean most of the time. After a second, sub-pound fish to the middle rod I swapped the maggot feeder to an third open end job.Which seemed to make a difference. The mix of groundbait, 2mm pellets and hemp must have had more allure than the maggots which were surely burying themselves in the silkweed.
A couple of fish were hooked but lost when the feeder fouled weed on the way in. There were a few single bleeps to each rod too. Quite often an indication would come soon after the feeder had settled and the bobbin set. Had the bottom been clearer I'd possibly have been better off recasting even more frequently - clearing the weed off the rig every time was a pain though. I'm beginning to think that catapulting groundbait and fishing a straight lead might not be a bad approach here too. That way I could keep the feed going in more frequently without as much hassle. Then again I might be leaving a ig in a load of weed for longer. It's those blasted swings and roundabouts again.
The third, and final, fish landed was not so well filled out as, but longer than, the first, and still managed to weigh an ounce heavier. This is just like my chub fishing used to be. Long slim fish and short fat ones - but never long porkers! It's nice to catch decent size roach without too many missing scales, though, and especially without the cormorant damage some showed last time I fished the lake.
The sunset saw me getting some benefit from it's heat at last. Despite numerous fry dimpling and flipping on the surface as the light began to weaken bites had dried up. I eventually packed up with fifteen or more minutes of daylight remaining. After a despondent start the session had worked out okay and I walked back to the car warm and happy with my efforts.
It was four thirty, warm in the sun but cool in the only shaded spot on the bank - where I was fishing... After half an hour I was losing hope. My heart wasn't in it for some reason. I ate my pork pies, drank some tea and thought about packing up around six at the latest. A sparrowhawk swooped over the water and up into a tree behind me. Chiiffchaffs and chaffinches sang their spring songs. It was a lovely afternoon turning to evening and I felt like I was wasting it. Rummaging around in my rucksack I found Fred. No sooner had I put him on watch than the middle alarm began to bleep and the rod top pull up. I lifted into what felt like a reasonable roach.
All thoughts of heading for home evaporated as the silvery flank flashed a few feet from the landing net before I managed to slide the fat fish into its folds. On the scales the plump and near-perfect fish went over a pound and a quarter. Well worth coming for.
With renewed enthusiasm I began recasting at more frequent intervals. Not every cast was landing clear, and I always wound in to find stringy pale-green silk weed on the rigs. Recasting regularly was a good idea to make sure the rigs were clean most of the time. After a second, sub-pound fish to the middle rod I swapped the maggot feeder to an third open end job.Which seemed to make a difference. The mix of groundbait, 2mm pellets and hemp must have had more allure than the maggots which were surely burying themselves in the silkweed.
A couple of fish were hooked but lost when the feeder fouled weed on the way in. There were a few single bleeps to each rod too. Quite often an indication would come soon after the feeder had settled and the bobbin set. Had the bottom been clearer I'd possibly have been better off recasting even more frequently - clearing the weed off the rig every time was a pain though. I'm beginning to think that catapulting groundbait and fishing a straight lead might not be a bad approach here too. That way I could keep the feed going in more frequently without as much hassle. Then again I might be leaving a ig in a load of weed for longer. It's those blasted swings and roundabouts again.
The third, and final, fish landed was not so well filled out as, but longer than, the first, and still managed to weigh an ounce heavier. This is just like my chub fishing used to be. Long slim fish and short fat ones - but never long porkers! It's nice to catch decent size roach without too many missing scales, though, and especially without the cormorant damage some showed last time I fished the lake.
The sunset saw me getting some benefit from it's heat at last. Despite numerous fry dimpling and flipping on the surface as the light began to weaken bites had dried up. I eventually packed up with fifteen or more minutes of daylight remaining. After a despondent start the session had worked out okay and I walked back to the car warm and happy with my efforts.
Labels:
roach
Sunday, October 06, 2013
Bad choices
I've been itching to give the pike rods an airing for a few weeks but it's been remaining so warm that other species have still been tempting me. If I'd got my act together on Friday I'd have had enough bait for a bream/tench session on Saturday. Instead I looked in the freezer and found some deadbaits. It would be an early start on Saturday morning.
I must have been keen because I was up well before first light and setting up in a swim I've been eyeing up for weeks as the sun was turning the clouds in the east pink. Five hours later and the only time the floats moved was when I wound them in for a recast.
Even as I walked to the swim I hadn't needed my fleece and it just got warmer and warmer with next to no wind. The flat calm enabled me to watch bream bubbles breaking on the surface from nine o'clock. That decided me to pack up, nip home for some lunch and then go stock up on bream bait. I left the pike gear in the car and called in somewhere on the off chance for the last four hours of daylight. There wasn't much of a view.
Although afternoon pike sessions don't often do me any favours I felt confident. There were plenty of small fish topping, and others sending up bubbles. There had to be a pike or two in the area. Just as in the morning the floats only moved when I wound them in.
After one early start I was a bit late setting up on Sunday on a morning that was a lot cooler with a heavy dew. It felt like a piker's dawn as I carried my load of gear and bait to the swim. I took my time plumbing around and marking the lines for accurate baiting with the feeders. The groundbait mix was boosted by the addition of last weeks maggots which I had scalded.
One rig fished a couple of the pineapple Band'Ums and another two grains of plastic corn. As a fail-safe the third rod fished a rather odd roach rig consisting of a size 18 tied to 7lb mono! I wanted the thicker line to avoid tangles and to see if roach would put up with it. The hook was baited with a single red maggot. It took less than half an hour to prove that roach would indeed accept this unbalanced presentation.
I worked hard at recasting the rods to get a bed of feed down, having to refill the mixing bowl around noon by which time I had caught a few roach between an ounce or two and maybe six. All to the maggot. By then the day had warmed up and in the sun it was as warm as the Saturday had been despite a stronger breeze.
A few dragonflies were still hawking along the water's edge, two paired up, and a lonely chiffchaff flitted through a hawthorn, it's branches becoming bare and its haws darkening. Leaves are beginning to drop in abundance, some trees already starting to show their underlying matrices. All that's needed to get autumn in full swing is a frost or two and a week of strong winds.
I was starting to flag around lunchtime and tried to get some sleep. The maggot rod kept disturbing me. Eventually it went quiet after a single bleep and I managed an hour of dozing. When I perked up again I found out why the maggot rod had gone quiet. The hook was missing. The line neatly sliced. I guess a roach had hooked itself and then been taken by a pike.
When it came time to pack up, before it got dark as I knew when I was beaten, I'd amassed 25 small to smallish fish. Almost all roach with two or three small skimmers amongst them. every one to maggot and not so much as a liner to the other two rods. If I'd worked harder at the maggot rod I could probably have managed a fair few more, but catching small roach doesn't do much for me. Unless they're destined to become bait. I really couldn't be bothered putting in the effort to fill a keepnet with four ounce roach. Strange how some people enjoy catching lots of fish irrespective of size while others prefer to get a few larger specimens.
Listening to the weather forecast for the week ahead it seems set to turn cooler. It might be time to concentrate on the pike. I'll have to clear the old bits of bait out of the freezer to make way for new stock.
I must have been keen because I was up well before first light and setting up in a swim I've been eyeing up for weeks as the sun was turning the clouds in the east pink. Five hours later and the only time the floats moved was when I wound them in for a recast.
Even as I walked to the swim I hadn't needed my fleece and it just got warmer and warmer with next to no wind. The flat calm enabled me to watch bream bubbles breaking on the surface from nine o'clock. That decided me to pack up, nip home for some lunch and then go stock up on bream bait. I left the pike gear in the car and called in somewhere on the off chance for the last four hours of daylight. There wasn't much of a view.
Although afternoon pike sessions don't often do me any favours I felt confident. There were plenty of small fish topping, and others sending up bubbles. There had to be a pike or two in the area. Just as in the morning the floats only moved when I wound them in.
After one early start I was a bit late setting up on Sunday on a morning that was a lot cooler with a heavy dew. It felt like a piker's dawn as I carried my load of gear and bait to the swim. I took my time plumbing around and marking the lines for accurate baiting with the feeders. The groundbait mix was boosted by the addition of last weeks maggots which I had scalded.
One rig fished a couple of the pineapple Band'Ums and another two grains of plastic corn. As a fail-safe the third rod fished a rather odd roach rig consisting of a size 18 tied to 7lb mono! I wanted the thicker line to avoid tangles and to see if roach would put up with it. The hook was baited with a single red maggot. It took less than half an hour to prove that roach would indeed accept this unbalanced presentation.
I worked hard at recasting the rods to get a bed of feed down, having to refill the mixing bowl around noon by which time I had caught a few roach between an ounce or two and maybe six. All to the maggot. By then the day had warmed up and in the sun it was as warm as the Saturday had been despite a stronger breeze.
A few dragonflies were still hawking along the water's edge, two paired up, and a lonely chiffchaff flitted through a hawthorn, it's branches becoming bare and its haws darkening. Leaves are beginning to drop in abundance, some trees already starting to show their underlying matrices. All that's needed to get autumn in full swing is a frost or two and a week of strong winds.
I was starting to flag around lunchtime and tried to get some sleep. The maggot rod kept disturbing me. Eventually it went quiet after a single bleep and I managed an hour of dozing. When I perked up again I found out why the maggot rod had gone quiet. The hook was missing. The line neatly sliced. I guess a roach had hooked itself and then been taken by a pike.
When it came time to pack up, before it got dark as I knew when I was beaten, I'd amassed 25 small to smallish fish. Almost all roach with two or three small skimmers amongst them. every one to maggot and not so much as a liner to the other two rods. If I'd worked harder at the maggot rod I could probably have managed a fair few more, but catching small roach doesn't do much for me. Unless they're destined to become bait. I really couldn't be bothered putting in the effort to fill a keepnet with four ounce roach. Strange how some people enjoy catching lots of fish irrespective of size while others prefer to get a few larger specimens.
Listening to the weather forecast for the week ahead it seems set to turn cooler. It might be time to concentrate on the pike. I'll have to clear the old bits of bait out of the freezer to make way for new stock.
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Now, where was I?

Tuesday saw me doing the carp-style tench/bream thing again. It's not my preferred approach, to fish pellets in conjunction with PVA bags, for tench or bream, but it's one that has been working. Faced with a short session it also makes more sense than trying to build up a swim. It can be a bit hit or miss. Tuesday it was a partial hit with a couple of average size bream landed on a bait I was trying out as an alternative to plastic corn and fishy pellets. Pineapple flavour Sonu Band'ums. They float on their own, but add a hook and they sink. A nice size for tench and bream too. Only time will tell if they are worth using on a regular basis.

Sunday saw me on the bank earlier and targeting roach with determination. I'd prepared my groundbait in advance. A mix of hemp and hali crush, method mix and mostly explosive feeder. Some hemp was decanted into the bucket ready to be mixed with the gorundbait and water added to achieve the light consistency I wanted.
The Chimera Avons were in action, rigged up with 30g feeders. I started out with two maggot feeders to get some grubs out, intending to switch to groundbait feeders after three or four casts with two rods. The third rod was a sleeper fishing a Band'um down the edge.

As soon as I picked up one of the Korum cage feeders I realised it had cracked. In fact it had split along its length. The plastic these cage feeders are moulded from feels more brittle than the material used for the standard open end feeders. I could have used the broken feeder without much problem but decided to try a Fox feeder of the same weight, but slightly larger, on one rod and a Korum feeder, with opened up holes, on the other. I was soon catching roach at regular intervals on both rods. All small, though. In the two to six ounce bracket.
Around four thirty things quietened off for a while. I think I should have been recasting to keep the feed going in because when I realised my mistake the bites picked up again. Around six the roach switched off for good and the next two bites were from bream, only small ones though, and an expected flurry of slabs before dark failed to materialise.
One thing that I will have to rethink about my roach rigs is hooklinks. Even two inch ones are tangle prone when tied with 2lb or 3lb line. I'll give some heavier stuff a go next time. If that doesn't work I'll have to look out for something stiffer. I'm sure the fish won't care.
I ended up having landed twenty fish for my trouble. Which was fun in a keeping busy sort of way, but a bit of an anti-climax in another. I can't seem to find that happy medium between catching nothing or lots of small fish. A handful of biggish fish, or one big fish, per session would be nice. Even if it wasn't every session. At least Fred had a smile on his face as he watched the bobbins dancing!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)