A New Adventure is Underway

 

Two weeks ago Pat delivered new licences for Parps and myself which enable us to wander further into the Leam valley in search of a literally deeper experience

This tiny, in width, river is hideously deep in places. I know of no other river like it, split as it is by a somewhat incongruous sluice at Eathorpe pumping station, meandering through the best countryside Feldon has to offer and which it has of course itself created by its own efforts through geological time

I thought the stretches I had spent the last two to three seasons tackling were surprisingly deep in certain pegs but first impressions of this new stretch double those deepest areas and, with over two feet of water on, must be approaching twenty feet surface to bed in places

The charm though is certainly wider than the watercourse

The birdlife is often surprising and never less than entertaining, particularly in the colder months and after dark, and even the fungal blooms are engaging

The fishing however is tough but that's how we like it. It makes the few red letter days all the more warming

The Leam is not a river to covet in pursuit of a net full, except perhaps in the town reaches the urbanossity of which does not draw these two anglers in. That said we do not attack it with maggots and so we do purposely limit potential for higher numbers of smaller fish but conversely maximise the chances of the prey fighting-back if the tip or the float indicate sufficiently positively

With The Dog twice at the mercy of the surgeons knife and long-distance journeys being involved this past fortnight, things have been at best disjointed and at worst a shambles but I have managed to get in a couple of brief visits, once accompanied by Parps, to suss-out the new canvas onto which we hope to apply that fish-oil paint

As with many rivers, excluding perhaps those in fenland, the adjacent terrain is contoured and fascinating. One bank can be low and grassy, the other steeply banked and, at this time of year, festooned with decaying willow-herb or, perhaps, tree-lined. Rushes burst out of the flow wherever the depth allows and cattle-poached pasture banks form conveniently comfortable terraces on which to sit

The flow can vary from slow to quite pacey dependent upon the depth and relative width of the length

The first brief attempt comprising a few hours spent in a glide leading to a deeper pool resulted only in numerous initial tappy small roach bites on bread but a few lob sections thrown into the pool itself resulted in an immediate p.b. perch for the river of 1-6-14 followed by four or five around the 5 - 6 ounce mark. At the time these were quite boldly marked individuals but the ongoing turbid water will soon have changed that as they take on the shade of a cup of white tea, with stripes

Highlight of the late evening though was a synchronised flying display by a pair of woodcock, reasonably unusual for Warwickshire and the Feldon landscape (though more so in spring and summer), as dusk fell and they burst from bankside ruderal to orbit a nearby group of trees and then disappeared overhead to the east; their ridiculously long bills and chunky duck-like bodily proportions unmistakable against a dusk sky

A second short visit produced a cracking roach of exactly one pound on two legered lob sections in a rising river some 0.6m above normal. This fish beaten only by one of 1-4-11 two years ago from this river

So even the limited time on the bank between personal crises had produced enough encouragement to suggest worthy potential once the venue has been grasped and some experience gained. Thus a visit today was inevitable, not to say necessary, armed with research on a method for use in swollen rivers which produced instant roach and perch to lob tails followed by three other perch, the largest ten ounces.

The river was alive with quality roach though, as they topped with abandon all morning while I experimented, more of which in the future if it is proven to be successful after more refinement

This past week's study of the water levels and weather forecasts suggested a falling river at perfect height and flow and so it appeared. I, however, need to get my act together if it is to be taken advantage of this weekend as, tomorrow afternoon, we go again

Combined bird list:
Grey heron, mallard, moorhen, pheasant, woodcock, raven, carrion crow, jackdaw, magpie, woodpigeon, stock dove, kingfisher, green woodpecker, mistle thrush, song thrush, blackbird, fieldfare, redwing, robin, starling, wren, skylark, blue tit, long-tailed tit, chaffinch

The Inside Line on Bread



Having set-out options for 2013 the year had not got off to the greatest of starts what with the snow, ensuing high water levels and suspended sediment in rivers and canals punctuated by a number of blanks in the first few trips so it was with some relish that this last weekend offered a few opportunities to try the approach I had decided would suit for 2013 in earnest and unencumbered by too many constraints

Late Saturday evening a trip to the North Oxford Canal just before dark, and, it was hoped, after the last boat, enabled the widely accepted peak time to be tested as darkness descended and took hold

A splat of thawed white crumb from a home liquidised loaf started the session as the inside line of the outside of a bend was targeted. I waited over an hour for a bite and didn't have one but, on deciding it was time to quit, I lifted the float out to find a hard-fighting fish on - my makeshift beta-light set-up had actually precluded me seeing the bite! An interesting battle in the dark was won by the no.6 pole elastic and a roachxbream hybrid of fourteen ounces was admired in the headlamp glow and slipped back into the murky depths 30 yards to my right. Buoyed by that capture another few 'casts' were made but nothing exciting followed and so I departed after introducing the remainder of the bread mix on that same line and vowed to return at dawn to make use of this rather feeble pre-baiting ritual

While sat there in the dark I was conscious of a white shape coming towards me from the left. Then there was a crash as if a pile of wooden poles had fallen to the ground, at which point the white shape stopped dead. Soon however the shape started coming closer again and as it approached it took-on a more square form in the gloom until a man in a red coat carrying a large white box appeared slipping and sliding all over this particularly swamp-like towing path! We exchanged pleasantries and to this moment I can only assume he had been shopping for some kind of electrical item and misjudged the time it would take to get home...we'll never know the truth of course, but it certainly was an odd one...if the crash really was him falling over or dropping the box I do hope he'd bought plenty of glue

Next morning the water looked somewhat more 'bready' than the previous night, visibility had improved to about 5" below the surface and that greenish tinge that our canal often takes on in the winter was about it. Two lines were attacked; one replicating yesterday's on bread and another at 8-9m with lobworm. I also introduced some crumb into a swim under an overhanging tree 30m to my left after I had been there half an hour but started on last night's bread-line without feeding for 15 minutes 'just in case'

Again it was an hour, almost to the minute, when the first bite regsitered on bread flake and it was a really pronounced unmissable lift at that. The strike met with a really strong fighting fish, much as the night before, but more so. Eventually a flash of bluey/silver broke the surface and I was for that moment convinced that this at last was that roach over a pound and half I had been seeking for much of the previous year...but it wasn't done yet. I was fairly confident it would not be a 'two' and when it appeared again I was somewhat deflated to see it's more bream-like shape and dull fins - another hybrid of 1-10-0 was confirmed on the mud-covered bank


An unintentionally soft-focus hybrid, a steamed lens and no cloth were responsible...and not a roach

Soon after, a roach of 12ozs came from the same bait and then it went quiet so I re-fed and tried the lobworm line which produced something small immediately followed by something quite meaty both of which pulled-out on the retrieve for no apparent reason, I may not have given them time to get the piece of lob down. So I re-fed the lob swim and headed off to the overhanging tree

As the tree hung so far out into the canal it only took 7-8m of pole to drop a piece of flake under it and no sooner had the float cocked and the shoulder sunk below the surface, leaving the red tip visible, than it suddenly returned to the shoulder and a strike into another twelve ounce roach proved the only bite at this location in two visits during the three and a half hour early morning session

The main swim was good for third 12oz roach, a 3oz'er and a 6oz perch on lobworm before boat traffic put paid to the level of excitement


3 roach of between 0-11-11 and 0-12-11 and yet the photo makes them look so different 

 This was the first time I'd tried these baits 'in reverse' (lobbies across, bread close) but this is likely to be dictated by whether the swim is on the inside or outside of a bend...or good old gut feeling of course!...but it worked quite well resulting in six fish for 4-10-0 including four for four pounds

'Happy with that. I think this method will be worth pursuing for a while and see how it evolves


Later on Sunday I couldn't resist an hour at and after dark on the falling, and very slightly clearing, River Leam to the tune of another roach of 8 ounces, again on flake and a number of tappy indications. Frost in the morning - nine degrees in the evening, the climate is out of control.


A river roach with colour washed-out by the flash and the flood

Woodcock and two tawny owl added to the entertainment after dark, brilliant!

When is a fishing trip a birdwatching session?

Recently, when pursuing the usual one bite, one fish tactic, it became apparent for the first time that more of the session than ever before was actually spent gazing around me than on the superficial object of the outing, the float

Now, given that the bite when it came would be visually unavoidable this was not to be seen as an issue necessarily but it did confirm that this really was something completely new. Match fishing never felt like this. The thought that one might take an eye off the float for long enough to identify a female reed bunting perched in the phragmites was unthinkable, literally the thought would not enter one’s head

The prospect of sitting for hours without that degree of focus would have been a n-starter. How could one possibly adequately compete if the commitment wasn’t there?

One thing which the more ‘specialist’ approach allows is the ability to drift into other worlds while one awaits the inevitable additional excitement of the initial interest followed by the capture

Those who are sufficiently in need of distraction to have followed this blog recently will realise that there have been occasions when ‘makes’ of dog have been suitably enthralling at times, especially those days when the one bite was looking dubious

The main secondary interest, though often obvious in their presence, are birds

It is unusual to rack-up a list of less than ten species while sat there enjoying the, often, morning canal-side air and there are passers-by putting in regular appearances which buck the RSPB’s perceived trend, most notably the bullfinch, a bird considered in such plight as to be ‘amber-listed’ as an expression of its conservation concern and yet, nearly always, present on the canal-side wherever there are suitably dense and continuous hawthorn/brambles on the banks 


Early morning, long distance, kestrel on wire

One remains ever hopeful of seeing the odd rarity, or even scarcity, under such circumstances but in reality this is very unusual. By definition it would be of course but it is noticeable that the canal despite its generally perceived ecological value is not all it might be. Passing as a very thin ribbon of water hedges and ocsasional trees through pasture and arable land is not an ideal substrate against which to promote a highly biodiverse ecological community 

However, with a reasonable level of appreciation of bird calls and song it can be fruitful to pick-up species passing overhead and it is this that has brought home the expansion of the raven in Warwickshire. Having once had the dubious honour of being the first person to see this bird at Rutland Water some years back it is one which always resonates when that deep gruff ‘cronk, cronk’ call approaches from any direction. Their growth toward the east seems to mirror that of the buzzard a decade or so previous

Long lens shot of ravens on tower

Strange things do happen though and in the same way that the angler might pursue a PB or another specimen of whatever species or size we always enjoy the unusual for reasons which really do not need to be explored. Three examples of this have occurred just outside Rugby in the past two years involving wading birds and, twice, the same species

On a day when only stale bread was available for bait (don’t ask) an attempt to concoct a paste out of it on the bank went slightly wrong. Ultimately despite the biggest topping shoal of fish to go at only one bite was mustered (as per normal!), the highlight of the occasion was the strangest bird call and one never consciously heard before. It emanated from two locations simultaneously indicating not one but two individuals and, thanks to the wonders of modern technology by a process of elimination using an iPhone app it was narrowed down to whimbrel, never heard or seen one before nor since. The closest bird was ‘clearly’ very close indeed on the far bank but concealed by the bankside vegetation between us at all times

The other two unusual sightings both involved woodcock and, again, remain the only encounters within memory although they are not uncommon in the right territory of damp woodland. The first was in a lengthy period of freezing weather when at first glance through a misty windscreen what initially appeared to be a female mallard was probing in the grassy verge by a quite busy road. Something however wasn’t quite right and a quick turnaround and revisit showed the out of place bird to be a woodcock forced to take refuge in such exposure where the only ground soft enough to probe was right next to the road. The next woodcock event was alluded to in a previous post http://floatflightflannel.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/interlude.html when an individual wholly concealed in dense undergrowth on the far bank emitted soft croaking sounds for a few minutes, again unmistakably confirmed by recordings  

The trend however is for a list of around 10 to 20 species to be compiled in a two hour period with a certain bunch of core birds such as thrush species in winter and warblers in summer supplemented by the crow family, the ever present woodpigeon and, a personal favourite, moorhen plus variable finches, buntings, tits, together with mallard, mute swan, skylark, etc.

Redwing seeking haws at dawn

Returning to angling had, on the face of it, taken away opportunities to birdwatch. Previously a trip out to obtain a list of thirty or forty species would have been very enjoyable but the new found benefits of a more open-minded attitude to angling has allowed the two to flourish in conjunction so they both can be enjoyed and a fishing trip genuinely can be a birding session at the same time albeit within the limitations of the habitat

Let’s face it; it’s just about being out there!

References:
Birds of Conservation Concern (RSPB)

List for 16th November when the fishing interest was just one roachXbream hybrid of a tad under the pound in a session from 7 to 9am:
Moorhen, mallard, fieldfare, kingfisher, gull sp., redwing, starling, house sparrow, robin, blackbird, magpie, carrion crow, woodpigeon, jackdaw, chaffinch, blue tit, wren, bullfinch, raven, song thrush

The Interlude

Having had a lesson in the craft of what one might (and not in any derogatory way) describe as old-fashioned rod & line fishing from Jeff Hatt two or three weeks ago, which you can mug-up on here
http://idlersquest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/canal-roach-bream-gentlemans-exchange.html
and even here, if you so desire,
http://idlersquest.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/canal-roach-suns-burning-your-eyes-out.html
I was tempted to roll back the years as they say or, as it transpired, roll back the eyes

Which reminds me of that time when someone on TV said (it may have been Harry Hill, I don't recall) "...and now the next episode of Casualty in which this week Charlie has an operation to stop his eyes rolling about in his head". Totally irrelevant, but it made me laugh at the time!

There was a time, in all modesty, when my rod & line skills were admired, admittedly mainly by passing Jack Russels and small children, but that makes it no less true to say. So I thought the prospect of combining my, still quite new, Avon rod with the, now compulsory, lift bite method would be a doddle. Jeff made it look easy and so, therefore, would I

When I turned-up without the customary blue dalek to sit on, without the matching blue matchman's (there must be a pun there but I just can't quite see it) rod, bait and net bags, my recently constant angling companion, who shall not be named for reasons which will be revealed later, was drawn to somewhat unfavourable words along the lines of 'goodness what unusual kit you have there', i.e. river roving gear of rucksack, ready set-up rod and reel, and nets

We had chosen probably the most consistently productive area of the N Oxford cut I am aware of and although in the past I was never fortunate enough to draw bang-on it in a match, as far as I recall, I do distinctly remember some good catches in between times including one net of over 10lbs of big roach on a red letter day when they just happened to all be in front of me and taking any bait almost anywhere I put the hook.

So this was to be a big roach expedition on rod and line

The early morning pre-narrowboat hiatus (can you have an hiatus before something?) was the customary target time and we arrived at around 5am to be fishing by 5.15. This week was my friends turn to chose the swim he preferred and I would make do with the hand I was dealt; using not inconsiderable logic, he sat opposite a dense willow to shield the rising sun from his eyes...'didn't think of that and I sat in the open between trees to have my inner eye scorched as the morning progressed. Fortunately the car now knows the way back and I didn't need to look, and furthermore, as I've been surviving on one bite one fish tactics of late, seeing the float wouldn't matter too much either

The plan wasn't just restricted to the rod. I also intended to try baiting three swims with the mashed centre of a tin loaf rather than sliced bread and even went so far as to leave the sliced bread back at ChezNous so that I wouldn't be tempted, it's the only way sometimes. So I would then have to use real flake on the hook too, my God!

The morning was quite glorious, if chilly, but you can't have early sun without the associated cold let in by the lack of that insulating blanket of cloud over the countryside, or, more to the point, heat let out by it. A deep mist lay over the water as we drove down and it lingered longer than normal on yet another in a string of breeze less occasions. Water colour looked good but sub-surface visibility was down to only about 4-6", not ideal for bread but good enough to suggest we would get the odd bite

                        

Having prepped what little bit of gear I had brought I proceeded to feed what was to be my initial swim and then wandered along to two further pegs I would be able to remember due to distinguishing features without the need to mark the ground and did the same

The next half hour was spent trying to get the float suitably settled as the surface drag was stronger than I had anticipated with the early lack of breeze but this did increase as the session wore-on and a heavier rig eventually solved the problem with a no.1 shot necessary on the bottom (no, really!) and a string of no.4's as bulk above it giving the long cane-bristled slender-bodied waggler an option to lift if the fish nosed-down to pick up the bait and then righted itself simultaneously picking the shot off the bottom. Well, that's the theory, the same one I have been employing a touch more subtly on the pole

So I gave it 30 minutes in the first swim and then 20 in the next two

Zilch

As I returned to swim 1 to suffer the sun a touch more the (angling) Artist formerly known as The Old Duffer was netting a fish taken on what he terms 'the poacher's pole' dangled in the side. It rarely fails and usually succeeds in snaring the odd perch, but not today, as 14.5ozs of slimline roach was plundered. It originated as a freshwater crayfish catching method many years ago using bacon but now those protected species are in such decline that we never see one

What did surprise us though was a deep croaking sound from the base of the willow he was sat opposite. Three or four slow croaks in series like a jumbo frog, it couldn't surely be a woodcock but sure enough when I fired-up the iPhone app of bird sounds it was exactly that and also confirmed that we have had them from time to time in the marshy field next to our house from whence The Lady Burton and I have heard that self-same sound in the night. Another tick for the garden, having long since dispensed grappling with the argument as to whether a 'hearing' counts as a 'sighting', well obviously it isn't technically a sighting but it is 'a tick'

So by the time I had got into the swing of fishing swim one again the dew on the Avon rod was so severe as to seriously impede casting as the line stuck to the blank. This took me right back to something I learnt at the age of about 12-13 when it was explained to me that match rods had eyes with longer legs to stop the line sticking to the blank and with lighter gear this was essential in rain or dew otherwise you wouldn't be able to cast. This had evaded my memory until this moment but if I were to try it again it would be with a different rod (and I probably will, 'can't be defeated can we?)

Eventually the float plopped into the right spot and on the second cast, to my great surprise I have to confess, the float popped-up and a lump was hooked. The beauty of this method is that the bites are almost literally unmissable it seems. This fish put up a real battle and I had greater difficulty bringing it to heel than a couple of river chub in March, a somewhat chubby round the midriff in fact, bronze bream was drawn over the net by which time matey boy had ventured closer to see what was talking so long to land. The fish went 2-5-8 as shown in the picture below and was followed by a pounder after I had revisited the other swims again after re-baiting them as I left them first time round, some twenty minutes later

No roach nor indeed any further bread bites, apart from the middle bits I nibbled myself, a child-like trait I have never shaken-off. Having endured four consecutive sessions without a fish a month ago I have now not missed a bite on bread in at least three trips...albeit I am only averaging marginally better than one bite per trip! Fishing throws up almost as many bizarre and pointless records as cricket, if you want it to. "That is the first bream of 2-5-8 I've ever had at 7.25am while wearing a blue shirt in May", staggering.

A last cast on caster as I packed away resulted in a missed bite with two casters on the hook and one of them coming back crushed, probably by a confidently feeding roach. So be it, it was time to leave to get the boys to cricket practice anyway, why they want to bother I've no idea as all of the games are washed-out anyway