The River Thames

I did a fair amount of fishing on the River Thames at one time or another. Some of those experiences will end up here. One or two might even be interesting.

• Marlow, Longridge
• Wallingford gudgeonfest
• Cookham
• Henley
• Marlow
• Medmenham on the boat
• Runnymeade

Longridge, Marlow

The first regular fishing trips we went on after Anglesey were to the Thames. It was a bit of a shock to the system to go from fishing very nearly every day at will, to not being able to go at all. I recall resolving to find some fishing, and cycling to Marlow (some 10 miles I think) and by blind chance ending up at the south side of Marlow, and the BXXX. I followed the bypass embankment North to the part of the river near Longridge scout camp and was told by a family who were fishing and picnicking it was free for that short stretch between the bridge and the fence downstream. Not knowing of other free fishing on the Thames that was good enough.

Our parents dropped us one Saturday and we started our long association with Longridge - around 1975 I think.

The place itself is where the river splits into 2, and the cut on the South side was the narrow half. The A404 bridge loomed over the plot, with a concrete drain cut to the left of it, with the Island 5 yards opposite with a good covering of trees. This was a good spot to park yourself, being low down, out of the weather, and also dry. There also was a small hollow in the river bed, presumably form the drain discharge in flood, which made a good fish holding area, especially when the river was up.

When we first rolled up here, we had little idea of how to fish rivers, and still had our 7 foot and 6 foot rods, using a 3lb line with a method based on a little reading. Still avid Angling Times fans in those days. So we went for simple top and bottom float rigs, set to the depth of the river, and usually fished with worms or bread, and very occasionally maggots. Worms seldom failed to take fish...

It was fortunate for us that this minor backwater was teeming with gudgeon and ruffe, as well as regular perch and small chub an roach as well as bonus fish. It really didn't matter what you did, you would catch gudgeon and ruffe, even on slow winter days. More than enough to keep us happy.

A 2 ounce gudgeon was prized and the 4oz perch exalted on. Ruffe we pretended to despise, but they save many quiet days form being too quiet. And on light tackle give a good account of themselves, despite the ability to get a size 8 and 3 lobworms into a mouth the size of a hazelnut shell. How do they do that?

We graduated to a roach pole (me) and a float rod (sibling), and with rods more suited to line and hooks, we enjoyed the bounty - and also then added in bleak to our bag. Bleak bashing was big in the press and we would with maggots, loose feed and cast in small floats with 6 inches of line and a single maggot. Once you get to 30 or so, the attraction wanes, but the day is started. Maggots also improved the general fishing no end, and in the days of keep nets (or more accurately a shared keep net), wriggling with dozens of assorted bits was a good end to the day.

On one long afternoon, when the fun had palled a little, I noticed fish rising to insects and more specifically 'daddy-long-legs' (Crane Fly to you). So I put 3-4" of peacock quill on the line, and grabbing one such from the grass bank behind, hooked it through the body on a size 18, and dapped it midstream. It took me 3 goes to catch the fish - a bleak. You have to be quick. I caught a few like that, but hitting better than 1 in 3 "rises" was hard work, but good fun. Next time I went into the tackle shop in Green Street, I bought 2 of the smallest grey dry flies they had and some floatant liquid and next time on the river tried one of them.

You need to be even quicker with the dry flies...

Events that stick out are catching a chub on a dead bleak, and bro. being broken up by a big fish, and catching a large perch (1lb or so) on a minnow, which I put fished high in the water and watched as a perch loomed out of the dark water under the bridge, and gulped it down in one go...I have no idea how may times we went here, but it was a lot.

Wallingford

On one great occasion we went to Wallingford and fished upstream of the town on the west bank, (the right bank) which was, and still is, a stretch of free fishing.

Dropped off by our parents who then went in into the town for a quiet day without us…we wandered up the bank and settled down to fish in sight of the bridge.

At the time the press was all about punched bread so we'd got a couple of punches (still have mine), and me with my pole and bro with his rod started to fish - and caught right from the off. Now, it might not have been a heavy bag, but we spent all day catching gudgeon after gudgeon on bread (and anything else we tried, although other fish (especially ruffe) showed on worms).

It was non-stop for about 5 hours, and I think we both had well over 90 fish in that time, which was huge fun. Punch, hook, trot, strike, put fish in net. A fish every 2 minutes more or less. I know that none of them was more than a 2-ounce gudgeon, but that is the point really. Strongly imprinted in my mind was the way the gudgeon would steam off on hooking, and due to the pole and elastic, it would reach the extent of it's power, and the elastic would curve the fish, still fighting furiously, towards the surface from 4 feet down. A 2oz fish would put a 4oz perch to shame in this respect.

Ounce for ounce they fight as hard as anything in the river which is one of the reasons we like them. A great day which we still talk about.

Medmenham on the Boat

A school friend of mine had a boat. More to point his Dad had. They used to take occasional trips on the River at Medmenham and I got asked along. It involved being picked up at 6am but that goes with the territory. This part of the river is a pleasant spot and good place for a walk with a young lady as well, but that's got little to do with fishing...

Down stream from the village are a couple of islands (opposite the excellently named Frogmill Farm) and the backwater side of these were the spot of choice and we drifted under the trees in dappled and cooling shade, catching odd bits and pieces. On this occasion I spotted some old pilings by the left bank and announcing it was a good spot for a perch, adjusted my float (random adjustment but for the look of it) and flicked the porcupine quill and worm perfectly against the woodwork, to much scoffing and derision.

To be fair, my casting is not that good normally. A good 5 seconds later bob-bob and 'gone', and I soon had a half pound perch in the boat. It's gone very quiet over there…I had another on the second cast and then nothing, but I was the "perch expert" from then on… if only.