Just's Fishing Diary 2006
- 27th December 2006, River Frome. Zen casting.
The day after Boxing Day, I return, but to the Holme Bridge stretch this time. I make my way into the trees downstream of the bridge and almost at once come across a swim where the river bulges and shallows, with runs of green weed and clear gravel. So I trot from the upstream end of the neck, 4 feet under a 4BB Avon (araldited by now). I fish worms, corn and maggots in rotation for half an hour and then get a bite for sure on a bunch of 4 maggots and have a fish on (a grayling) for 10 seconds, then fumble the reel and give slack line, the barbless size 14 hook is shaken out almost immediately. Beginners bungle and I mutter rude words to myself. Perhaps a pound or so, but I'll never know now.
I persist for another half an hour maybe and work to the bottom end of the wide spot and a bit later get a small salmon parr (see below), again on maggot, in contrast with the previous visit where the fish were taken on worm. I work steadily downstream, spooking a 3 pound pike, lean and mean, lurking in a bit of slack water right by the edge. If it had stayed still, I'd have lobbed a bunch of worms at it. I fish through, round and over trees and out into a field, but despite varying depths and fishing shallows, glide and eddies get nothing remotely like a bite.
I did a short experiment today with a goose quill (2BB) proving that a 2BB float was not buoyant enough, but a 4BB one would be a perfect float for this type of fishing, with its hollow top and great visibility (compared with tiny topped balsa Avons).
I trudge back to the scene of the early near miss and settle in for the last 40 minutes (in law family visit looms). I bait some maggots and settle again into a Wallis and get a perfect cast 10 yard out midstream. Wow. Now, the trick to this is a Zen thing. If it works don't think on it. Just repeat and keep the mind blank. I spend 40 minutes making effortless casts of 10 and 15 yards for the last spell, enjoying the fizz of the reel rim under my thumb and the feel of the line snaking across my left thumb and the float and line arcing, shot first, into the stream.
While I catch no fish (might have had one bite, it's hard to be sure), I enjoy myself enormously with the casting working like a dream and the trotting absorbing, with the reel ticking over smoothly and the note off the knurled edge on my thumb telling me how fast I'm running. Timeless. A fish might have almost spoiled it. Well almost.
Still, not a blank and frustrating to lose the only good one of the day, but the rest of the day is already fading against the bright light of the last ¾ of an hour when everything clicked for the casting and control.
- 24th December 2006, River Frome. Trotting the stream.
Having got a WADAS ticket especially for the Frome I headed off for a few hours of trotting. This is not my forte, as especially of late I have been a lake angler. But winter makes you more inclined to move and with the "C" obsession tapering off, it seemed like a plan.
It's a grey day, but no frost and no rain and that is good enough. I took the 'pin' and the Avon, which is a tad heavy but it's what I have. I put 6lb on the reel and a 3lb bottom. With maggots a rucksack and a few worms I set up a stick (3BB after the bottom pulled out of the 'Drennan' 4BB, mental note, never buy anything ever again with the word "Drennan" on it) and essayed a few casts by the bridge where I'd hopped over, with a few maggots on the feed. I spent 15 minutes mucking about with the depth and discovering the current was quite comfortably fast enough on a swollen Frome to pull the float nicely off the reel and with a little adjustment of the drag (or 'thumb' as we call it), learnt quickly to float the bait ahead of the float. I got a sharp knock about 5 minutes later and hauled in a small salmon parr, (which I checked up on getting home - at this moment I wasn't sure whether I had a small trout or a parr) had no idea). I popped it right back. Good omen.
I moved steadily downstream with no further luck and struggled to find anywhere I thought fishy, with the few slacks fishless and the inside of the bends not producing either. Two hundred yards downstream I regretted not bring the unhooking matt, as that is my normal seat, so I had to drink the coffee standing up. Eventually I'd fished my way to the sweeping right hand bend with a gravel run on my bank and this I immediately deemed fishy.
I cast midstream and swung the float over to the end of the bar - the water here was 18 inches, if that much and I'd been trotting 3-4 feet down up until now. I swapped the stick for lighter 3xNo4 and keeping the hook 2'6" from the hook, put the bulk of the shot under the float. With a slight drag on the reel the bait fluttered nicely just above the bottom (I could see it). OK then. 3 trots later a stabbing bite caught me unawares, but pulled the rod tip hard enough. Drat. 2 more trots with maggots got nothing else, so I switched to a worm and had a bite just as the float looped out of the middle over the back end of the bar. I got a small wriggle and reeled, rather than played, a small dace. Now I was especially pleased with this, as it's the first fish I've had from a Wallis cast…I'm trying to pick this up. My plan is to Wallis cast, if it works carry on. If it doesn't, switch to the 'Nottingham' cast until the next swim. Mixed results today with some good casts, some over runs and some rubbish. The reel is so free running it has to be checked from the off and getting that right has proved a test. But I persevere with the 'keep going if it works, stop if it doesn't' method.
I awarded myself a coffee and fed a few more maggots. The river here is shorn of cover, to presumably keep the fly-fishers happy and the wind is flat and hard across the wet pasture and the coffee helps keep the chill of the back of my neck. Keeping moving doesn't hurt either. I switched the hook bait back to maggots, no reason. Nowt for 15 minutes, switch back to worms and first cast another hit and this time a nice grayling maybe half a pound. The day is a success already. Notice the scar across its back. Still glorious though. 10 minutes later I 'bump off' another right on striking and see enough off the flash and the serpentine response to be disappointed with losing another grayling, a bit larger perhaps. As this is only my third ever, I'm hardly an expert…
I stick with it for another half an hour but the bites are gone, spooked by my repeated casting I imagine and I cannot cross the marsh ditch with only wellies, so with time getting on I tramp back to the bridge and take another cup of enthusiasm while laying on a worm (well you never know). Home then for tea.
I think that's the best days fishing I've had all year. Terrific. The Zen like calm of lakeside margin fishing is a good contrast with the continual cast and trot of the river, the latter hypnotic in repetition, the former in its inactivity and reflection. Both good for the soul.
- 17th December 2006, Pitmans Pond. A funny little tench...
- 5th December 2006, Smith's Lake, Bishops Green.
- 2nd December 2006, Pitmans Pond. Almost perfect.
- 18th November 2006, Dorset Stillwater #1. Mad. Made worse by being careless.
- 10-12th November 2006, Barton Court and Beeches Brook.
Good Omens...
...for this weekend trip with the sibling and we had chosen a water midway between our domiciles. For my part, I'd had a vague vision of a large carp (as I write, recalling the fleeting picture that came into my head between sleep and waking on Wednesday morning), perhaps this weekend on the new water with my brother sat to my right and the far bank just 30 yards distant with a heavy fish attached and boring to my left. I'm not prone to flights of fancy (well OK, sometimes), but then my 'Stren' arrives in the post Thursday, Friday brings my "Tartit" CD for the drive up and the call to say the new 'pin could be collected. Even before the drive up, all was set. Perfect. How could it not go as planned?
I arrive at the water at around 2:30pm. It's a nice gravel pit, 30 years old at least with old stock dating to its creation and there are 3-4 acres of depth variations, willow trees, reed mace, nooks and crannies. So while you would describe it as technically commercial, as you have to pay, it's got a lot of the things I like and is missing many that I do not.
So after a little exploration on a cool blue-skied November day, I head for the back (north east) corner, edge quietly into one of the nooks and set up a home made goose quill float and a size 8 "Jack Hilton" with the barb snapped off. I bung some corn and mussels and while things settle down I spin 100 yards of 8lb Stren on the new 'pin, right through to the hook and attached it to the 'Avon', which at a 1lb 10oz t/c, is perfectly matched to 8lb line.
I'm easily satisfied most days and there are plenty of bumps and nibbles on the mussels, which I put down to small things. These keep me amused or alert, take your pick, but eventually I switch to the clichéd, but very effective, 3 grains of corn.
There are early Autumn leaves drifting on the water, catching on the float from time to time - some days these can be a nuisance, but not today, and I enjoy the view. Occasional fish suck at the passing russet rafts in a spirit of inquiry and a carp or two splash and slap under the far bank. The spot feels like the right one, with the swim nicely sheltered, but at the pit's windward end. I wait.
A light footfall hints at the arrival of the other one. Well, when I say 'light'…there is the ritual exchange of greetings, as usual centred on comparative weight, hirsuteness, individual ascetics and personal habits. He sets up a ledger rig with some tinned meat and we share a coffee or two and the minutiae of family life, while he removes a signal crayfish from his side of the swim. I venture to suggest it isn't a real fish. This is rebuffed and a claim is made that it counts as 'half' beating my current 'zero'. I remain unperturbed, secure in the knowledge that the moment would materialise. That and the alleged 'half' being an invading Yankee crustacean.
Then a passing Harry fills us in on the good swims and some lake bottom topology. (Ta Harry, very much appreciated). Even this gentle disturbance (how polite for a visitor to take care not to spook your swim, rare but welcome) doesn't muddy my clear confidence.
The last hour passes, with twilight approaching from behind us, chasing the setting sun glare in our faces. The sinking light is further advertised by soon-to-roost pheasants. The wind-speed sinks to a breath in tandem with the descending grey and then, in the fading light the orange float-tip flickers into life, dithering, edging, to and fro. Truffling, not small stuff. Ten minutes of teasing and it slides slowly off to my, right sinking as it goes. Classic carp bite, my favourite sort.
I tighten up and lean into the arc. There is a pause, the thump of a once shaken head, an about turn. Something then powers heavily away to the left with steady acceleration and the low frequency throb of a very wide tail. I let the rod curve over well past the right angle, then ease the brake pressure. Line peels off, in time with the tail-beat driven note of the knurled rim on my thumb. Heart in mouth, serious fish. I manage to say "It's quite big". Slow tail beat, medium speed. Implacable power. Battle lines are drawn.
(Typing, 7 months on, the wump-wump-wump transmitted up the line is as clear to me now, as on the day.) I step across the swim and angle it away from going around the corner. This would involve tree roots, which is bad and I may have changed its course. Marginally, perhaps. It keeps going. Boy, does it keep going. I keep the rod bent in a hoop and the 'pin rim is wearing a smooth spot on my thumb joint. It wins 50 yards straight without slowing or deviating, carrying a 2-3lb drag. I check my reel for remaining line.
There is an island 60 yards in front of my charge and me. I'm going to have to apply the brakes soon, all or nothing. The headlong charge is unabated with no discernible impact on speed or course. I allow myself nerves and then the first thought of what might be. The first rush is all. If you beat that you usually win. It's the longest and hardest run. Without a doubt, this is one such.
I weigh up my chances and the angle between my bowstring-line and the cut water. Too soon to lock down. I have a perhaps 10 yards yet, with the pressure at my end as unrelenting as that from the depths. Then there is a bump. The bump you get when the line passes over the dorsal fin or the nose. I'd turned it. First run to me? I dare to hope.
The rod is still in full lock, but nothing is moving and a splinter of doubt stabs into my stomach. Sand-bag solid. I wait with the nagging fear spreading out like frost-cold stealing up from the toes. I slacken off. I hand-lined. Nothing. After a few minutes of alternating hand lining and slackening, the slim hope the fish was on yet, fades into the dull ache in my core. I face the fact that my fish was gone, snagged on some unseen and unknown obstacle. I pull for a break with the black dog's rumbling behind me.
Anyone who has lost a good fish knows the gut-wrenched wretchedness of this moment. You want to throw things. I don't. It won't get it back. Beaten.
I get my hook back, undamaged and a bit bent. A close look at the last 2 feet of line shows it to be well roughed up. Next time, I tell myself.
The brother wisely packs up and slips away in silence while I try out most of the rude words I know. To be fair just one or two of them but I repeat them a lot. Too late to re-bait with the swim disturbed, I prowl off into the descending gloom.
Good omens. Right.
Barton's Court, November 11th 2006
We returned the following day and discovered strong wind, getting stronger and moved swim twice from the North bank to the West (with deeper water and finally to the south bank to get shelter from the willows. I had a small bream on the West bank when I switched from No 8 hook to a No. 14 with a single grain of corn. 40 minutes later with no change we headed south, despite briefly considering a change of venue as things looked off for the day. We perhaps unwisely opted to stick it out. I set up the No. 8 again and pegged my quill in 6 feet of water in front of me and watch the battle on the float between the wind blowing left to right and the undertow set up by the consistent wind going right to left. It dithered and bobbed all afternoon, in part caused by careless fish picking up my 'tell-tale' 2BB thinking they were hemp grains and while I caught nothing else I felt confident I'd do little better elsewhere. I wish I'd the thermometer I thought I'd packed, as on days like this you really want to know the temperature of the top flow and the return, I.e. where is the warmest water? The brother had 2 bream on a single grain of corn, which he caught trotting the swim in the undertow. He cracked first and I fished on into the gloom, hypnotised by the rushing of the wind in the willow and the ripple on the water until the float wasn't visible and I fished by touch only. At 5;00 with the light gone I gave up for this time, more to do with family than anything else. I've have stay another hour left to my own devices (and likely nipped around the back on the lake too, I'll get you yet cully).
Fabulous water though and although technically a commercial water, it is not over stocked, had deeps, shallows, willows, overhanging bushes and islands and bays. Not a scrap of litter and while the banks are tended, it's not to the point where you feel nature is on the retreat. I'll get back here in the spring for that carp. Oh yes.
Beeches Brook, November 12th 2006
On the way home I popped into Beeches Brook fishery on a whim, for a few hours. This is near Burley in the New Forest and although mostly shallow and very much commercial, is a fabulous setting and I tucked myself under the trees in one of the narrow channels on the North end of the lake, with 6 feet of width and perhaps 2 feet of depth in the small tri-legged confluence of 2 channels. The bank is mossy and green and the tree a mixture of beech, holly and yew, plenty of late bracken with Fly Agarics lending an alien appearance. A small flock of pigeon clattered about in the beeches opposite and a crow 'skrarked' behind me somewhere.
In keeping with the mood carp moved from the off, so I hemped up and musseled in and put the No 8. and a braid hook length on, 8lb through and fished a foot over depth with mussels and a lob worm. An hour went past with tweaks only, although several fish went by which induced me to keep still. After an hour the float went off and I struck checked, as the rod hit a branch and the hook bumped out leaving me with a tricky bit of untangling. The trick here is not to pull, but wind down and thread the rod tip around the branches to unravel the loops. Re-cast and 10 minutes later away the float went again, I tightened into a lump which behaved like a tench and I actually had the net in, with the carp on it's way. I was just telling myself it was a commercial carp that gives up a bit easily, when it rumbled it and belted around the corner to my right, which battle curve put paid to any worries about damaging the rod earlier. It then started a series of short runs up each arm of the confluence I was on, which all had to be held within 5 yards or so and in between several real head down rushes at the bank opposite, which I could pull up in the last few inches before it buried it's head in the bank. It took 10 minutes of this to get it near the net again and 4 times it bolted on the net.
Eventually, the fish landed, it went about 11½lb and was nice looking but leathery. Much more like it.
The swim was now dead. I expected some returning life after half an hour, but even the rising carp round the corner had gone. After an hour I called it quits as it felt dead as well and went to the main lake to try again and found a spot where I was shielded by a small bush and could fish against some dying weeds, in 3 feet of water. This was less pleasant than being in the trees, but I persisted while a headache grew and had plenty of bites that were not big enough fish to hit with my rig. After about 90 minutes a large carp lunged out of the black mirror water 30 yards in front of me with a hushed sploosh and while I was watching the ripples it rose again almost to the tip of its tail, shook itself 3 times and slipped back into the water with a scarcely a noise - the full length and girth of the fish is frozen in my memory, like a stylised carp in a Chinese picture, with the light underside stark against the darker water and moss bank behind. 15lb pounds at least. On another day, I'd have moved or waited longer but I was feeling bad now, with the waves of pain moving from the back of my head to the pit of my stomach in sync with the dying ripples of the wash from the carp. So I went, took a pain killer and ambled off.
Nice place. Might make a nice winter water, probably busy in the summer.
- Autumn warm winds, 27th October 2006.
On visit to Newbury we took the children for a walk around the lakes - it's always good to have a quick look, and today the weather was clear but only just starting to dip in temperature, late in the season. Half way past Jubilee we passed two anglers hunched over a pair of rods and bleepers, with the line bow string tight across the water, with the stiff breeze in their faces. Normally a better idea when fishing, but on this lake the windward shore seldom produced for me, but in fairness this is more likely due to the sterile bottom on this side than the wind.
We got as far as the end of Long Lake, and while the offspring capered we stood at the end of the lake and watched the red-setting sun on the water and the waves whipped by the breeze easing with a whisper between the reed stems and I thought about the pike caught here and the hypothetical prospects for the moment, which seemed good, with the reed beds, warm November water and wind in my face.
Around the end of the lake came a man on a phone with a camo jacket and a bucket of boilies. Not breaking his conversation for a minute he stood on the sleeper at the edge of the swims and peered at the water. And then carried on around the end of the lake in similar fashion. We shadowed, tea time looming in our minds.
I paused at the end and look the end swims (scenes of good pike and piking) and imagined (no, knew) that a smattering of offerings against the reeds and a small float held gently against the drift would catch this evening. It would have caught the tench here before they got to the pot bellied protein fed specimens currently coming out.
The mobile angler was diminishing with the light down the avenue of trees between the lakes and fittingly as we passed by, the two previously hunched were stood, one with bright orange shirt on at the waters edge, while the other, although more quietly dressed was less quietly kicking a root on the ground. Ah well. Tea.
- 22nd October 2006 Pitmans Pond. I win. This time. On points at least.
Lying in bed listening to the patter of rain on the conservatory roof and the traffic on the main road, I am far too cosy to leave the marital bed to sit in the rain, even if it is my last chance of a go this weekend. It is relatively fine, as opposed to the forecast of 'heavy rain', but warm and dry wins. Things change at 10:30, when management announces she is taking the children to the local pool for a dunk, so as it's not raining 'right now', I stick the knap-sack in the car and a rod plus some hemp and a few worms and mussels and go for a 2 hour try.
I head for Pitman's via a small lake I have unearthed and plan to check on the fishing there. It looks nice and a stroll round shows a path and some apparently well tended swims, but no sign of activity - no litter, fishing related or otherwise but the water is cloudy and disturbed, so something lives here. Another time...arriving, it's raining again, but I sit in the car (for some reason the only angler out) and tackle up a quill BB shot and size 8 a foot from it, with 8lb line on the pin this time. I have thought over the previous visits and have decide to length the tail to ensure the float only moves when the take is definite. Beefed up to the 2lb t/c carp float rod as well. I elected to fish until I couldn't see the ridge next to Corfe Castle, which despite the rain is clearly visible and as it is 17°C still, it can't be that bad.
I decide to fish in the near corner as the wind is southerly and if nothing bites after half and hour move to the patch of lilies in peg 3 and if no action then the junction of the new lake and old. Not so pleasant, but the wind in your face is the best bet especially with the unseasonably warm weather.
'Phase A' gets me wet and with only a suggestion of float movement to my 45° angled green tipped porcupine to show for it. My hat keeps water out OK, but the run off soaks my legs and the result of sitting on the bank will have to be imagined for now. I spend the next 40 minutes listening to the rain on my hat and shoulders, which has a rhythm of it's own.
I move to peg 3. More hemp, a few mussels and 35 damp minutes later I get my bite, with the float traveling gently to my right through the raindrop circles and slowly lowering in the water. I wait until it's not visible and strike firmly and a large fish bolts toward the lily pads tip and steered hard away heads to the middle of the water. I think I have won the battle but the fish gets half way across, does a handbrake turn and belts into the lily patch at its furthermost point from the bank. Drat. I ease off the pressure a bit and the fish responds by keeping going until I can tells it's near the bank, despite my line, arrow straight, to the far end of the patch. I try to increase pressure and get a jerk and then slackness. Really annoying, especially as the float has gone as well - I put the eye on and re-varnished that one Friday.
I squelch back to the car to re tackle with a smaller quill but the same end rig, pausing only to re-bait the swim. I use the unhooking mat to keep the water of the car seat.
The new quill sits almost flat on the water and it heels around like a waterborne windsock, moored by its single BB. 15 minutes later away it goes just as for the first. I strike and pull away from the lilies in one movement. I hold the fish until it quits and heads to the middle of the water and I let it. I spend 5 minutes letting it run and then bully it into the net having seen by now the hook hold is a good one. One to me, even if it's a 'goldfish' (around 7-8lb I would say).
I celebrate with the umbrella to keep the rain off my face and checking the end tackle, go again. I add a large lob-worm hooked once on the hook with the mussel, as it's raining. At 1:40 another very dithery bite that take 5 minutes to develop turns into a smaller fish, which does it's best but is outgunned by my 2lb t/c and 8lb maxima. This funny looking mirror has the same parentage of the longer bigger brothers (take a look at its tail), but is still odd for all that.
I vote myself a last cast at 1:50pm and opt for 2:30pm leaving and the ridge is looking grey and vague by now. 1:55pm the float lays flat, dips, lies flat again and slides off. Another battle to avoid the lilies commences. ("BB" is not wrong in his assertion that once a carp is into the lily roots you've had it.) I win and the remainder of the squabble goes on in a 3 yard patch of water to my right and while I net the fish easily it's not nearly worn down enough and even while in the net, makes frantic swimming motions for a bit, like a clockwork motor running down, then subsides enough for a snap, then straight back into the murk.
That's enough; I'm very wet, but not cold and pleased with my victory over the carp this time, on points at least.
- 14th October 2006 Pitmans Pond. Undergunned.
- 8th October 2006 Pitmans Pond. More goldfish.
- Reasons and Rain, 6th October 2006.
Well it's raining stair rods now and only 7:05am. Just having dropped off the eldest, early for a trip to London, leaving not quite enough time to get home for a cup of tea, I headed for the office. Not the dedication to duty some might think. The grey autumn rain hammers on the car roof as I belt along. The first tendrils of a reluctant dawn are showing. Would I go out in this? I'd swap almost any working day of my life to be leaning on the lee side of a good tree with my waterproofs on and my leather hat keeping rain of the seeing gear and a bait out, even in this rain. Perhaps a good lob worm on a size 8. Maybe a flask.
It's 17°C out, and with the last 2 nights being a shade under 10°C (which is still warm for October), the warm night tonight with the warm rain now bodes well for a morning feed. The blurred windscreen merges with a vision of an orange tip on rain-circled water, the drumming on the roof becoming the patter of rain on a cagoule and a drip on the hat brim, the picture too soon spoilt by orange street lights emerging where the float tip was waiting.
Even if it were 3°C, I'd prefer to be out there trying my luck. That's the point really.
- 23rd September 2006 Pitmans Pond. 4-2 to the carp this time.
Warm with blue skies and a few clouds at Pitmans pond. I've not fished here before but have heard about good bags of carp, but of little else. I decided that I like Peg 1 by the 'car park', but took a walk around the 'U' come 'Z' shaped lake first. I have to say that Peg 1 made me feel best after the walk, but after two hours of corn and hemp and nothing that resembled a bite (although small fish plagued my float) I got the itch to walk again.
At 6ish, I looked at the lily patch on Peg 3 with more interest. Earlier in the day it was still, but now the stems swayed and the leaves trembled with fish rooting at the bottom. Aha.
I sneaked back with my dibber and corn and lobbing in a few grains checked the depth (almost 2 feet) and hunkered down. After about 10 minutes I shifted position slightly and saw a brown swirl by the bank as one inhabitant took fright at the slight vibration. Five minutes later, after a long series of bobs, tweaks and sideways swerves, the dibber sidled of into the muddy water. I struck and got nothing but a bow wave heading into the centre. Encouraging.
A second bite, modelling the first, materialised 5 minutes later and I hit it as it disappeared and immediately found a very heavy mass on the line, which although eschewing long runs, even after being given the option, would not come in. It clung to the bottom like a tench with a brick in a bag and after 5 minutes of obdurate resistance eventually was drawn reluctantly to the net. What we had was a 6lb mirror, very light in colour and very feisty still, flipping itself to the point where I photographed it in the net. As soon as I laid it flat it flipped and flopped and fearing for its health I returned it without further ado.
"One-one". I looked again at the lilies, which still had a lot of life. I resumed. Ten minutes passed and I hit another sidling bite and had a repeat of the last fish, but for a sudden dart into the lilies, which resulted in a tug of war to extract the same. Having done that I managed to get it into open water and this one ran, but slowly and I let it go to wear it out a bit. Then, just as I thought the net was the thing, the hook-hold just gave way. 'Drat'.
"One-two". Recasting and continuing to loose feed, I hit another and lost it right after the now half expected right hand dart into the lilies, again the hook hold giving in.
"One-three". A short calm of 15 minutes and then another underhand bite, with the hook-hold going almost at once. 'Double drat'.
"One-four". A tinge of frustration creeps in and I miss 2 perfectly good bites in the next 20 minutes. Finally as the light is going for good, I get my last bite and hitting it (perhaps a tad harder than normal), I again find my self tied to a dogged lump that first buries itself in the pads and then swims in slow but determined circles 10 yards distant for 5 minutes, before being overwhelmed by the Avon and the 6lb line. Another carp very like the first, but almost scale-less and light in colour.
Final score is "Two-four" to the fish, but I have the last laugh. He who laughs last, was too slow in striking.
It's a pleasant spot in the evening. There is little habitation inside a mile and being round behind Poole harbour it is isolated and quiet with only the noise of the Wytch Farm oil refinery and the glow of it's lights. The fauna are loud at dusk, especially the chirping and while it's not unpleasant, I always have an ear cocked for the sudden cessation, which happened to me once before but that's another story.
Footnote: After leaving my hat behind I returned to search the following day and after talking to a couple of anglers discover that the carp were easily caught on meat at the start of the season and then went off meat, onto maggots, of maggots onto corn. They learn, you know. I'll go with something else next time.
I also found out there are larger fish, one or two over 20lb and tench as well, with the back arm of this odd shaped water being 5 feet deep in the centre of the (narrower) section. More info is always good. I'll be back, as they say, mostly for a practise with the new centrepin.
- 17th September 2006 Breach Pond. Blank saved by a perch
- 10th September 2006 Highbench. A Rare tench
- 9th September 2006 Arfleet Ponds. Arf arf.
- 8th September 2006 Dorset Stillwater #1. A bit less than magical
- 30th August 2006 Dorset Stillwater #1. Things that go bump in the evening.
A short session at my favourite water. I went for Peg 3 and set up a small, 3 x no 8, crystal and fished right under the bush to my right. There is no wind to speak of and I am able to cast past the bush and reel back in under it. Having slipped up to the swim quietly all should be well. I've gone for corn and hemp and giant maize for hook bait and hemp bread paste.
Giant maize on a size four gets trembles only, so I switch to a 14 thick wire and a single grain. I get several small roach (6oz), bump one off and then about 40 minutes in a 1½lb fish into the net. Top notch. I spook the fish sorting it out, as the swim is then dead for 20 minutes. I swap the float for a small pole one, as the crystal has started to sink (eh?), and bump off a large slow fish, that felt like a bream. Argh. Another smaller roach (6oz) a lost tench, several missed bites, and then I bump off another tench. Arrrgh.
Another small roach around ¾lb and then with the light fading, I put an LED torch beam on the float and miss a sideways sitter, and 30 seconds later latch into a carp (large, straight run for 5 yards), which the hook then pulled out of. Arrrrrrrrgh. One more roach and it's time to move. Short but very frustrating. But for being off my game I'd have had a fab bag for 2½ hours. Drat. Double drat. Who says fishing is always relaxing?
- 28th August 2006 Breach Pond. You've got to like bream here.
'Once more unto the Breach'. I went for Peg 20 at the end of the lake with the wind in my face and enough lilies to constitute a feature. I baited corn and hemp and had corn, giant corn and hemp bread paste (plus a few worms) to try and kicked off at around 10:30 or so.
I got bites after about 40 minutes and had a couple of bronze bream around the ¾lb mark, and varied baits (and hook sizes) to find an optimum pattern for the day. After much messing around with my paste float, shot patterns, hook and bait sizes the one which worked best for the fish in residence was hemp paste on a size 14, 1xBB 3 inches from the hook and the float shotted up to sink when the bait was picked up. This in 8 feet of water a rod length out.
Giant maize got no more than fiddly nudges, probably as a result of being over large for the fish down there. If I'd stuck with it (on a size 6), it would have got the larger fish, but it would have been a quiet day other wise…
Despite this the bites were often tentative, with 2 or 3 pulls before a bite that could be hit - these from the smaller 'bronzies', ½-1lb or so. The larger bream, which I had 3 off, took the bait right off, no too fast, and I had several very fast takes out of nowhere, which I speculate were perhaps roach. I have a number of sidling slow bites, which I couldn't hit and I wondered about small eels.
Still, the day wore on and I must have had 30 bream in the end, but with only 3 good fish, 3-4lb. Nothing else, which made the bream fest less than fun in the end. There was a quite spell around 2pm for an hour, and at 7:45 everything went dead, which was odd also. The light was funny for the last hour or two and the picture below shows it as it was and the float was hard to see as a result.
I'll try swims further up the South bank next time, for a change. There are tench (allegedly), but so far I've seen no sign, which given the excitement they usually show for hemp is unusual. I've not found them yet, that's for sure.
Hindsight's easy, but I think at around the 4 hour mark I should have moved on for myself, as the pattern for the day seemed set. Good bag though, I must check the smaller ones against rudd-bream hybrids, as they are feisty things when hooked, as I am told these crosses often are.
- 20th August 2006 Breach Pond. Bream on.
I managed to get a few hours middle of Sunday for a dart at tench on Breach Pond and arrived around 10:30 with 3pm my limit. I went for Peg 18, which is perched out in the water almost at the end of some a large lily patch. This is nice but I'm always concerned about the vibration these platforms put into the water every time you move something. You can't have everything (where would you put it?).
I put in corn and hemp loose fed and corn on the hook. No frills, a 'paste float' with about 1BB of shot and 4 inches over depth or so, size 14 thick wire and a short 6lb braid hook link. The water here, even hard against the lilies is probably 8 foot deep and the wind was blowing fairly hard right to left. Other than the wind the weather was ideal to be out in. I was fishing a few feet out from the rod tip, but holding the float against the surface drift. I had a bite right off and banked a good bream.
This foreshadowed the day, as I had a largish bream every half an hour or so on average and a pestilence of rudd, mostly taken on the drop. If I'd revised the bait upward of one grain on a 14 I'd have perhaps missed the rudd. I also tried some large hemp grains as hook bait but got no bites at all on these.
So nothing exceptional but after my 4 hours, I had seven good bream with the largest (which was a bit misshapen) at 4lbs, a couple of smaller ones around the 1lb mark and 20 or so rudd, which isn't bad for a quick go.
I've never been a huge fan of bream. My experience of them is of them being small and slimy with zero fight. These bigger bronzies and even the smaller ones, put up a good struggle if without the speed of other fish and seem to make the most of what they have - with a small propeller, there is only so much speed you can muster. The large ones are not so slimy either and I find I'm starting to like them a bit more. They're doing their best it seems to me.
Still no tench though. I'll try paste next time; they have to be here somewhere...
- 12th August 2006 Capplethwaite Beck, Cumbria. Real Fishing.
- 10th August 2006 Ratherheath Tarn, Cumbria. More of micro-carp, roach, a tench and a rubbish hook.
- 8th August 2006 Lake Windermere. Bonus perch.
- 6th August 2006 Ratherheath Tarn, Cumbria. Some rain and a lot of micro-carp.
- 22nd July 2006 South Drain, Wareham. More Tench and rock.
Another new water, the South Drain. Presumable there is a north drain somewhere. This water is long (400 yards) and narrow being 10-12 feet wide at most, and in most places half of that is reed growth. The water it turned out was around an even 4-5 feet, perhaps a shade deeper in the middle but not much.
I plumped for a swim about half way up with nothing to go on (save some reports of big tench), so went for shelter from the wind and sun and the passers by on the footpath on the bank, which is some 8-10 feet higher than the water level in the drain. Well, there are only so many times you want to hear "have you caught anything?
I baited up with corn and hemp and bits of hemp paste and tackled up a 6lb rig on the Avon and a pole float with a long antennae. The nature of the reeds means fish have to be controlled hard (OK 'stopped dead in their tracks' then) when hooked so while I would normally use 6lb line anyway, on this occasion it was needed. If I was expecting very large tench I'd want more than that...
Anyhow, at 4:30 it was windy and bright and at 5:15 I had a bite, which was not a total surprise as there were plenty of bubbles in the swim. This brought a 4lb tench to the net, after some powerful lunges towards reeds. I put the fish back and tightened the clutch down a bit, hoping for many more.
Well that proves how wrong you can be, as I had not a bite for more or less the next 3 hours. The only break in my unwavering concentration was the Sand(?) Martin that sat on the reeds opposite me for 15 minutes. Not usual. At 7:30, I nabbed a large slug off the unhooking mat and spent a few minutes dropping it beside the various patches of reeds that were within casting distance - this resulted in me snapping off my hook-length (which I then retrieved with the landing net) and then trying out a spectre float for a bit. This proved less than invisible as the small rudd in the swim mobbed it and kept pulling it under. Hum.
A lot of big slugs came out to play about this time, and you have to speculate on the potential for using them as bait here.
I reverted to the paste float and a rock band started up in Wareham somewhere (on the quay as it turned out). They were rockers. And rollers too. Oh good. It's not as if I could tap my foot in time or anything.
So several rock classics later ('Communication Breakdown', I've heard worse) at 8:15 or so, I got another positive bite on corn, and a 3½lb tench. I was alternating corn and paste and had 2 fish on corn but not even a nibble on the paste. I stuck with corn and at 9:05 had one more bite and another 3½lb tench. 3 bites for 3 fish. I packed up and the band were playing "Get it on", so I got on. Bang a gong.
- 9th July 2006 Dorset Stillwater #1. Olive beauties.
- 30th June 2006, Breach Pond, Wareham. More deep water and bits, but in a good way.
And once more onto the breach (Pond). This week I thought I'd go for the other end, where the lilies are, to try and see if there was something else I could catch apart from skimmers and rudd. It was warm and blue skied and ideal weather for a dangle, at least above the water. At 3pm (ish) I was met in the woods by a chap on his was out, who said that he'd just had 4 bream from peg 17, so I ought t give it a try. It would have been rude not to really. I descended onto the platform on the peg. And immediately saw a school of rudd you could walk over, even if none were bigger than 0½lb. They snaffled all ground bait, corn, hemp and maggots before it had got a foot down. If you can't beat them, stick on a size 14 and clove hitch the line around a broad bean sized bit of cork, a foot from the hook and catch them.
So for half an hour I caught rudd, trying bunches of maggots and corn in an attempt to catch a larger one. Best effort was about 0½lb, and after about half an hour and 20 fish or so, I tried again to bottom fish for something else. I gave up after an hour partly because of the sun in my eyes and partly because no bait escaped the marauding rudd, and neither did my float and shot, which were frequently assaulted on the basis of "you never know it might be edible". I probably caught another dozen or so.
I moved around the lake to peg 22, which was the next accessible one. This involved a hike and a scramble, but put me at the south end of a patch of lilies, at the other end of which carp were rolling.
So plan "B" was to bait up, fish hard up against the lilies, and as the evening wore on, flip to a slight heavier float rig and see if there were any tench or incautious carp to be had. Still in at least 8 foot of water I had a succession of fish on corn, roach, rudd and skimmers, with several decent roach including one at a about 1lb, and a skimmer around the same.
Another angler moved into the swim almost opposite me and we exchanged words and established he was after the tench. The first thing that bent his rod though turned out to be a 3½lb eel (on bread) which wouldn't go into his net (I mean that in a wilful, rather than 'net size' related way) and he too had bronze bream, and a tench, which was still my hope.
Around 6pm I switched to spam on a size 8, and spent half an hour having it hacked of by smaller fish. In frustration I stuck on a piece of pepperami half an inch long. 20 minutes later I caught a decent sized bronze one. Then the evening descended into muted frustration as twitch and pull after pull yielded one more skimmer and a mad rudd that took the pepperami on the drop. Changing baits made little difference, with anything smaller or softer than the big bit of pepperami, being pestered by stuff to small to hit (or too chary to take off maybe).
My erstwhile companion across that lake was having some of the same frustration with a lot of missed bites and bobs. It can be like that sometimes.
At 9:30 I got another bronze one, and gave up. I couldn't see by then anyhow…as I discovered getting back into the woods. The 5-minute walk back took 20 as I inched around the steep banks and thick undergrowth. A big torch might have helped…not spooky but irritating.
A great fishing view, water lilies always good, and the 2 bream. Strangely, for a catch in the region of 50 fish, I was slightly underwhelmed, which I put down to learning about new water.
- 24th June 2006, Breach Pond, Wareham. Deep water, bits and bobs.
Breach pond is a 5 acre clay pit surrounded by woodland which is at least 70 years old, so is fairly well established. It's an idyllic setting for sure, even without the days sun, clear blue skies and slightest of breezes. I had walked around the lake a few weeks previously (after getting my Wareham and District AC Permit) for a look, but learnt little about the fish life, or the geography of the bed seeing only a few rudd.
Thus I rolled up with practically no idea what the water would do, so took maggots as they will usually catch something, as well as the usual baits in the box. I went for swim 31 which is around the south East side of the lake, reasoning that the shade would persist longer there and I might suffer less from the midday quiet spell most lakes get, especially when the water has warmed up in the middle of the year. There are some great patches of lilies on the West bank and Northern end though, and these are tempting spots for carp or tench for another trip.
The first thing I discovered was the water is very deep. I gleaned this from fellow anglers, but plumbed my swim at around 10 foot only a rod length and a half out. At a rod length out I was around 8.5 to 9 foot. This is good. I baited up and using a self-cocking crystal (a mistake as casting a self cocker with that tail of line is awkward), with a couple of wrigglies on a 14, soon banked several rudd and skimmer bream.
The platform I was on held a small surprise. When dropping one of the small rudd back, there was a 'schlop!' under the platform, and a cloud of scales drifting out to tell me a pike was perhaps in residence. Bad luck on the rudd though. Half an hour later this turned out to be a large perch that darted out from the front of the platform after some fry, and coasted into the branches on my left. I mean 2lb plus, by the way. Information to store away for later along with 'must always bring worms'.
After a couple of hours of bits, I got a solid thump and slow but dogged resistance that showed itself to be a decent bream, pictured below. This proves to be the only large fish of the day, and despite changing baits to corn (single grain) and latterly some luncheon meat (on a similar rig fished on 8lb line and the Carp Floater rod) yielded nothing larger than 4-ounce skimmers for the rest of the day. I did swap to a pole float, bottom end only fished as a slider to ease casting though.
I spent the last 2 hours watching a long pole float over a 'mini-stringer' of luncheon meat, wondering if the hemp in the loose feed mix would have attracted carp or tench towards the end of the day. It didn't - I had not a knock on the meat. Well live and learn. I probably caught 30 fish or so in total, which given a 2 hour barren spell at the end (self inflicted I would say) and a very quiet hour midday, is not a bad return on a new water - and it was a pretty pleasant day's fishing as well.
I had an interesting chat towards the end of the day with a chap who had done some pike fishing on the water the previous winter and had, fishing nooks and crannies in the deep swims, blanked several times. That's what I would have done as well, but he did mention a man who turned up one day and casting herring as far out as possible into the middle of the lake, banked a 15lb and 18lb fish in an hour or so, and then went home again, as "later in the morning you'll never catch anything" apparently.
This chimed with a discussion earlier in the day about shelves from 11 to 14 foot towards the middle and I would speculate there is a shelf that the pike lie up on the lower side of, to strike up at fish passing over the edge. That and the fact herring are possibly the only sea bait commonly available that look a bit like skimmer bream. Perhaps that is something to put to the test later in the year.
Here's something you might not know about this pond. A chap called D. Leney introduced 400 large-mouth bass into Breach Pond between December 1935 and December 1937. They apparently survived into the 1970s but the population gradually reduced in numbers and the bass have now died out…
- 16th June 2006, The Stour @ Blandford. Official first day of the season, and a good start to it.
- 11th June 2006 (P.S.). Well I never.
Yesterday the Telegraph had an article about carp fishing in the weekend section. Bit of a shock that, to us hoi polloi, but what was really good about it was they'd bothered to talk to Chris Yates.
I've already made my feelings on much of modern angling plain, but it would be easy to classify those comments as sour grapes - I've never caught a 20 pound carp or made a 'ton' bag at a commercial. But when Mister Yates describes fishing at some places as like 'shopping at Tesco's' (for fish) and 'It's for fishermen of limited ability who like to have a macho picture of themselves holding a huge fish', then it has the weight of truth.
There is even an admission that hair rigs are self hooking. Really?
No sh1t, Sherlock.
- 11th June 2006, Dorset Stillwater #1. 'Bugangler', golden rudd and a flotilla of pike
- 2nd June 2006, Dorset Stillwater #1. Roach and fluff and stuff.
- 28th May 2006, Dorset Stillwater #1. 'Marmiteangler' and more roach.
So 'Just' and 'Marmiteangler' headed for Stillwater #1 for a few hours in the May sun. I went for peg 12 for the same reason as the previous week, based on the ease of sitting alongside and assisting the junior angler. Again I went for the Avon and margin fished maggot bait and in similar fashion roach showed themselves quite early on (at about 11:30am in fact).
The day was overcast but when the sun broke through it got warm enough to be down to T-shirts and the fish kept nipping. A little before 1pm I broke out the lunch rations, and taking charge of the rod for a minute or two struck at 'yet another roach', only to find a find a perch of just over 1lb on the end, which is always a nice surprise. The roach were mostly half a pound of so upward, with a couple nudging the 1lb mark which is a great stamp of fish by any standards.
Water temperature was a warm and constant 13°C for all of the day, with the air temperature around 22°C most of the day and a constant shower of catkin fluff from the surrounding willows descended in a steady stream onto the water, and gradually as the day wore on, the patch of the water to our left, which was covered in the bits and pieces extended towards us.
Also with the advancing angle of the sun, the frequency of the bites waned, which prompted a change to sweet-corn and this gave us harder to hit bites, but by feeding both and alternating hook baits we kept the roach coming and around 6pm or so, a grain of corn produced a tench around 2lbs which was a good bonus fish.
We had a further roach and in the last hour or so as the sun dipped below the trees causing the temperature to descend to a rather cooler 12°C, we took our cue to head off and called it an evening...all in all we have about 20 roach between us with 'Marmite' notching up 13, with the balance to myself caught during sustenance breaks and setting the depth, with a couple of roach taking the bait during some optimistic casting to a passing school of rudd. Well it was worth a try.
A very nice day.
- 19th May 2006, Dorset Stillwater #1. 1½ anglers in the rain and some roach.
- 13th May 2006. One year of Anotherangler
- 6th May 2006, Turfcroft Pond, Burley. Quick session in a nice place.
- 5th May 2006, Smith's Lake, Bishops Green, Berks. Rain, rain, sod off.
- 4th May 2006, Smith's Lake, Bishops Green, Berks. Tadpoles, tadpoles all around...
- 23th April 2006, Arfleet Ponds What, no dragon?
Back to Arfleet. (I liked it last time). I went for the older lake this time, which is also about 1 acre but significantly is much deeper with 6 feet of water less that a rod length out all round as far as I can tell.
There are depths of 30 feet apparently and certainly a few areas around 12ft (unusual in these days of 'carp puddles', sorry I meant 'commercial fisheries'). There is a head of carp, running to over 20lbs, good perch and rudd to 2lb and big eels. This link will tell you a bit more.
Turning up for coffee time, I went for a corner which looked nice and had plenty of bubbling...the air temperature is around 14° degrees, water between 13° and 14°. The sheltered aspect of this water means that there is seldom any great ripple on the water, which always looks inviting. I set up 2 rods; bait 2 swims with chopped pork pie and spicy pepperami - and for an hour got plenty of tweaks on the alarms, but no runs. At about 12pm when I am adjusting the right hand rod, the left hand bobbin whacks the rod. I miss this. Still, mini pork-pies are popular.
I'm getting plenty of nudges to keep me going and pass the time by feeding the various small fish at my feet. I flick bits and pieces of bait in and although the majority of the fry are just that, larger shadows occasionally detach from the deeper patches of shade. So it is at 1:30 I take the left hand rod down and switch to the Avon rod and crystal antennae and an 8lb Krsyton with a size 10 raptor and a short hair rig. I put a single BB about 4 inches from the hook. I tie the hook with a short hair, which I ignore and fish worms conventionally for a bit - the depth even 6 feet out from the bank is 5 foot or so. So several perch later (one about ½lb) I loose feed some corn and get another ½lb perch...and a roach or three. This carries on for a hour or so and then the bites dry up and I gradually move both the baited area and float further out, towards the bubble patches which have come and gone all day 20 feet or so from the bank...
I switch the bait to 3 grains of (green* and vanilla† flavoured) corn mounted on the hair and miss a few nibbles and eventually switch to spicy pepperami and a grain of corn. After a long pause and a few misses, I get a few plucks and a dip and hit a small carp around a pound and a bit. Aha.
See, you can float fish a hair rig - the key is to wait for a positive indication - the first 2 or three dips are just footling with the bait, as carp do (most large fish do, big perch and roach can be a real pain in this respect).
Half an hour later, another dip-dip-dip, plunge and a solid lump on the line. This bores around the bed at a slowish pace and just when I think I have a (very) large tench a carp shows itself. It took about 10 minutes to bank and you can see scarring on the mouth, which restricted it's gape to the point of affecting breathing and the top half of the tail is pretty ragged. Otherwise perfectly healthy though and getting by fine (and carrying spawn). On release it took off at good rate, none the worse.
Nothing else doing for the last hour, although the bait was nudged a few times. You could put this down to the 8lb main and braid, but the carp pole angler on the far side using 6mm pellet bait was also getting an unfeasible amount of float movement for no result. Despite a quiet time at the end of the day, a Greater Spotted Woodpecker settled in the tree behind and continued its day long audition for a position as a heavy rock band drummer and 2 deer picked their way through the brush on the far bank, but of course in reaching quietly for the camera they spooked and trotted off. Drat.
A good result when I ditched the bite alarms and dual rods. A lesson here - sometimes it's better to focus on one rod completely, than 2 half watched. While I have no problem with bite alarms (except the volume), it is easy to put on buzzers and stop thinking. I'll certainly avoid the rod-pod from now on though - the number of alarms caused by one rod moving and setting the other one is unhelpful and there is no doubt in my mind that the angle between the rod tip and line is a factor in getting hittable runs - that bit of drag gets you a lot more 'once mouthed' baits. I'll get another bank-stick and have the rods pointing more or less at the bait for next time - BUT if you do this line clips are a must. With a direct line from hook to reel, line could easily be broken by a largish fish and a fast run.
About 12 roach/rudd, 6 perch and 2 carp. I've had worse. Water temp still at 13.5° when I headed for tea at 7.00pm. I stopped the car by a fence post on the way out and exchanged stares with a buzzard 4 feet away, while wishing the camera was not in the boot. I left with the distinct impression that my size was the only thing preventing it from considering me as a meal on wheels.
* Yep, green. Corn is handy, but commonly used, but changing the colour and flavour is easy. In this case I used green as the water is deepish and red light is filtered out quickly with depth - so even in 6 feet of water green/yellow will probably show better than red. Blue might work, but blue food seems odd. Yellow does show up really well even at depth though and white as well. If only there was a white bait that was cheap and easy to get and easily moulded onto hooks...
† Food colouring and flavours from any supermarket. Handy.
- 14th April 2006, Arfleet Ponds No boilies here...
- 22nd January 2006, River Frome, Wareham. Blankety-Blank...
Since spotting that the River Frome at Wareham, downstream of the bridge, was a 'free' fishery (the fishery is owned by the Environment Agency and you still need your rod license), I had been itching to get down there, as the reports I have read to date suggest a good mixed fishery, with good heads of Roach, Dace, Grayling, Mullet, and sea Trout, Flounder, Perch and Pike as well. Interesting. This report is well worth reading. I have previously gone down to the quay, and seen huge shoals of fish, so I readily believed it.
The plan was to fish on the rising tide, but as I was up anyway, I went early and thought I might as well fish on the ebb for a bit.
I got to the quay shortly before 8am and the tide had an hour or two to run before turning, but nevertheless, it looked nice. Actually it looked amazing with mist on the marsh the other side of the river, the rising sun's orange glow diffused by the mist further downstream and wisps of mist rising from the river itself. I managed to get a good snap, which is below. I tackled up - Avon rod (of course), small fixed spool, 6lb main line, chickening out of using the centre pin. A 4BB Avon, size 12 and a worm, after knotting my first trace fatally when getting it out of the bag. Arrgh. I spent the next hour and a half or so, trotting this way and that, as the swirls and eddies varied minute to minute with the dropping water level just downstream of the bridge. The depth needed checking every couple of trots or so.
The tide turned about 10am or so and the oscillating pattern of changing eddies continued and also the depth was now increasing every couple of casts. Time flies by when you fish like this, as even with no bites, you are always doing something.
What I didn't do though was get any bites. I tried bread (which I baited up with as well, rolling it into pills that sank to avoid being mobbed by the hordes of ducks), and worms, both out of the box and some I had dyed red with food colouring. Nothing doing.
Another angler joined me on the quay for a couple of hours, and he had the same luck I did, which gave me some hope that it wasn't self inflicted. Nevertheless, the time was passed pleasantly as the sun was out, making it a clear and bright winters morning, which really should be experienced first hand to be appreciated.
At 11:30 with no sign on life and chores to do, I called it a day - and unlike some days with no fish, this felt like a good result.
It's easy to let the blank sessions get under your skin, but on this occasion it was all to easy to take the positives away with me. I learnt from the other angler and also from a passer by, that the quay normally fishes well on the flow tide and that trotting maggots midstream is not a bad method. There are many dace up to 1lb, and also trout do show in mixed bags. The perch are also running to a 1lb at least. I also found out that the small dyke behind the river on the South bank has a good head of tench and is a WDAS water. And I re-learnt how to keep in touch with a float in moving water, which is something I haven't done for a while. I'll be back (probably with a pint of mixed maggots).
- 14th January 2006, Revels Fishery. Perch.
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*Footnote: I feel I should point out these waters are fished on a Wareham and District Angling Society permit and you'll need one to try these waters.
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