The Pre and Post Christmas Rush

PRE-CHRISTMAS

Sinking into the marsh, subsequent steps no deeper than before but each consistently sucked in by the peat-like soil, slowed the walk but did not diminish the enthusiasm as the river was to be at a high level and, with the summer weed now ripped-out and flushed through by a month's heavy rain, the opportunity to apply pole feeder tactics in slack water was irresistible

'Anything that swims' would be in order, as the first priority is to avoid a blank, but there would be that Peter Stone-style aim to pick-out a bigger fish, as always

Choosing a slack below a bridge where the main flow hurtled to the far bank, toward the overhang of hawthorns, the water appeared steady with barely any flow and, closer in, flowed against the main torrent but, there was an 'eye' to this back eddy, centrally, where the water stood still

The essential of offering an attraction of feed on the river bed in such circumstances is limited to a bait dropper or swimfeeder and, with the most recent rain at that time having been cold, this needed to be in limited quantity. The introduction of a single chopped lobworm plugged with a minimal but heavy mix, containing a sprinkling of worm extract, would be introduced and only for the first three lowerings of the rig, after which the ear would make decisions on the state of play

Bites would be expected to be early and consistent, if they came at all should there be any fish in the slack, and sure enough this came in the shape of a rare river gudgeon, and a surprise boost in Challenge points. The marker quivered and disappeared with a disproportionately positive vigour as compared to the size of this tiny mottled brown visitor, which weighed in at just 0.54 ounces on the mini-fish scales

Adding challenge points at the time of year, and with such weather affecting all possible options, is largely an exercise in luck, most of it bad, but the great thing is that the flood, if it produces anything, often produces pleasant surprises, unseasonable species being one of them but also bigger fish than we might anticipate

Ones natural reaction approaching such a situation is to think that anything will do and therefore be happy with a little fish of any species simply to rescue the day from a blank but regularly this can be found to be a negative and pessimistic attitude. That's not to suggest that big fish will be caught from each and every slack. Indeed, some of them won't appear to hold any fish at all but on average it seems every other trip might throw up something a little more interesting. This past week, for instance, a chub of 4lbs+, an eel of over a pound and a string of pristine hand-sized roach have sprung from different swims on various days

For a few weeks the canals locally had been like milky tea, the lakes shocked into the dormancy of winter by the first cold weather and rivers in and out of the fields with varying degrees of turbidity, pace, level and temperature

The most recent rain, a brief but violent downpour on a Friday, of the increasingly prevalent 'climate change'-driven type, was warm, as the weather turned, and, although the river was rising, it was not now carrying much debris. Consequently the fish were more obliging. Simply more hungry, and, thankfully, a series of chublets and roach came to hand in the ensuing couple of hours accompanied by the incessant twittering and wheezing of starlings on the wires, and the occasional whistling of teal

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POST-CHRISTMAS

Rocky Res would be the location as temperatures were expected to be steady and mild for a couple of weeks

Bleak Midwinter, and windswept at even the most enticing of times, this was not a place for the tentative, sensitive nor indeed the unprotected angler

Visits must be preceded by careful analysis of wind direction and speed plus the likelihood of rain, otherwise the most uncomfortable, nigh-on unbearable, sessions are bound to be endured

The first visit was to be the now standard winter stillwater roach approach of maggot feeder and closely positioned two inch heli-rigged hook-length, also loaded with maggot, usually double but part of a constant merry-go-round of hook-bait options in search of a 'killing' combination

HonGenSec beat me to it on the first trip, as usual (albeit biteless at that point), but, even though there were a few carpers and pikers ensconced, swims were going aplenty

Ultimately it became apparent that my negativity in hook size would come to haunt me, catching four fish and losing five due a surprising interest from tench in just 5degC water temps [no one tell Len Head!]. The best roach was 12ozs, for each of us

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Next trip and HGS was well in front of me and had 5 or 6 roach to 1lb before I'd even turned-up.

The approach was to be different this time, and new. I recalled having a tube of 'sticky mag' in the bag and, combined with a slider rig, this was to be the challenge of the day fishing into 10' of water at around 20-25m. How this would take me back!

Never having used sticky mag it was a bit of a challenge to even get it to work, but it did, and very effectively too. It was easy to roll 20 gentles into a ball and fire them out with a standard catapult. It did require a bowl of water to swill the fingers in, as the stickiness was staggering. I had imagined it would be like a cornflour-type thickening agent but in use it seemed more like powdered toffee, or the like. So adhesive was it that the bait became rigid under its power

My recollection of the slider rig (it had been a while) wasn't the best and I did suffer with tangles, however subsequent seeking of advice from experts, a couple of errors with shotting and casting technique are now resolved. I think the hook bait was attached directly to the float for 50% of the session! Not good, but maybe you gotta make mistakes to learn sometimes (I keep telling myself!)

The upshot of the session was that HGS kept trotting along showing me roach of ever-increasing size, to over the pound mark, in fact, while I kept plugging away. It was during one of those chats that I actually had a bite and landed a very respectable perch of a pound thirteen. Later came the light-bulb moment that this might even have represented more unexpected challenge points

It did, sixty-odd of them!

Another 10oz roach followed but then the dark set-in early with heavy cloud and mist. HGS had by then quit for the heated car seat option but his catch of nine roach, all over ten ounces, for a total catch of around seven pounds, would do more to keep the home fires burning than any amount of hot food

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Next day, the third visit, there could be no excuses. I knew where the bigger roach were, the rig, the slider episode was out of the system and I had doubled-up an eleven foot 1lb t.c. rod prior to the holiday and matched them to alarms and bobbins. The heli-rigs would be back in action!

Arriving just after sunrise, the light southerly would again be from behind the chosen spot, if it was free. Again there was total cloud cover (very much akin to the Dutch 'Total Football' but without the game itself being in anyway involved...unless a perch was caught, obviously) and no one else there, (a Saturday!), again, the water was around 5degC

Pilfering a few rocks from the bank, the rods were set-up perfectly (this time). Maggot at first, then a few flavours proved nothing until bites started to emanate. Inquiries at first then full-blown backdrops; never frantic but regular and generally hit-able

Firstly roach, in fact the first fish was over a pound and followed by a couple of twelve ouncers

1.1.5

Then the tincas moved in, inexplicably smaller than the average summer fish initially, at two and half pounds, but cracking fish to take in Christmas week

Not one, but two bailiffs, approached me at various times to see if anything was stirring and both were genuinely pleased that the answer was, "Yes", as the lack of bums on seats bivvy bed-chair thingies demonstrated that things could only have got better

Then a passing couple or two. It was a dead-end. They had to come back so it was easy to lose count, honest. Suspected as angling husbands and non-angling generally frozen partners suffering the event in the hope of ending-up somewhere warm later, maybe?

My final visitor however was actual angling royalty in the ever-upright form of 1960's England International Hubert Noar; now in his seventies; still match fishing on canals; still seeking bigger fish than the youngsters, albeit more so with perch than roach these days, it seems, and still drawing more than his fair share of what we used to call 'coin', I suspect

"Didn't expect to see you here!" he said, binoculars at the ready in case the regular passage migrant from Norfolk, a bearded tit, should emerge from the reeds

We reminisced

Old names, old techniques, preferences and, as always with anglers of this stature, a couple of nuggets; gems, if you like. Apparently back in the heyday of the middle Great Ouse, when anglers from Rugby Federation, it is fair to say, dominated, it seems Hubert used to come to Rocky Res to practice the unique long float technique into surface drift-affected deep water rather than driving for ninety minutes to the actual venue between matches. It paralleled my own experience, teaching myself to fish bread punch in readiness for a Grand Union Canal NFA National in North London by using the Leicester Arm of the same canal, it would be similarly clear, in the early mornings at the very least, and, sure enough, it worked in that manner too.

Suddenly - resounding bleeps on both rods at once

I struck into what was clearly a better tench on the left-hand rod combined with a solid drop-back on the right-hand rod leaving the alarm bleeping constantly. Hubert was desperate to help-out so I let him pick up the r.h. rod and he held it until I had netted the tench and soon it was joined by a good roach in the same landing net

A quick weigh put the tench at 3lbs 8ozs and the previously unmolested form of the freshly minted roach at a cracking 1.5.3, and (just) more unexpected Challenge points

Best tench of the day

"I expect you'll be doing a film about this place next then?!", he enquired. Very much matter of fact

"No, I think there are plenty of people who know more about this place then I do Hubert", came the reply. His response was indeed flattering, yes, but, I have to say, very much wide of the mark

According to my build-up of notes (no keepnets allowed) the catch comprised 5 roach and 4 tench for a total of exactly sixteen pounds with the smallest fish again eleven ounces.

Quality fishing at one of the best stillwaters in the area

Best roach of the day

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Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all, let's hope the fishing is on the up at last!

An Exponential Curve

Well the time has come and with the start of the traditional coarse fishing season so too an up-swelling of blogging all round. It is important to us then after all, respecting the close season where required

Learning curves are always described as steep (unless you are an England footballer or manager in which case the curve is a straight horizontal line. 'Experts', 'pundits' like to use the word exponential in relation to this subject without any clue as to its meaning) and since returning to angling a few years ago this spring has been the steepest I've consequently known; with a ready supply of current, proven and openly shared information to hand it's showing no sign of levelling-off

It's all very well reading the continually regurgitated claptrap in contemporary glossy angling magazines but you simply cannot beat understanding the background logic associated with the necessary tackle, rigs and bait when hatching a plan to ambush the odd fish, and that I've had in spades thanks to very generous and approachable mentors this spring

For me the sharing of ideas is fundamental, without it an individual will stagnate and miss the simplest of key tricks. This can also happen within a closed clique of anglers of course but it is less likely especially if there are driven, progressive minds involved

Even as a match angler I was very open with any successful ideas within whichever group I formed a small part and expected the same from others, though it wasn't always forthcoming

The, admittedly 20-year, step between grease-suspended wire-tipped pole floats and bite alarms; the step from a single squatt to multiple rubber maggots (it's not even real bait for chrissakes!) or from a light canal pole to 4.5lbs t.c. spod rod could not have been higher and, converting the step to a curve, it would be very easy to slide back down it...were it not for the fact that small fish seem so relatively pointless at this stage of proceedings - or should I say, life?

In many respects the change from the very lightest match fishing to using old pseudo and actual carp gear for non-carp big fish hunting would have been much easier had there not been such a gap in angling interest and had the onset of age not occurred, but, what was right then was right for good reason and what is right now likewise


If anyone out there has been reading these, recently ever less frequent, musings since the beginning of FF&F time, and also has a very good, nay exceptional, memory, then that person may recall that when big canal fish, especially roach, became the thrust of the new approach around four years back, there was no certainty as to where this little sojourn might lead. Some things were cast in stone however, it would never result in pursuit of big carp at the cost of all else, nor, would it involve:

• commercial fisheries,
• bite alarms, or,
• fishing chairs!

Now open/broad mindedness is never a bad thing as long as one is prepared to filter-out the dross and spot the beneficial aspects of the subject matter, (back to angling magazines again!) so when the advice came that bite alarms would be necessary that was going to prove a bleep too far and just there was where the line would be drawn, or just before it rather than through or after it, to be more precise

After all that's not fishing is it? Just sitting there waiting for something to trip over the bait, then landing the fish, oh!, and did I mention that they'd hook themselves too?! No that's not fishing, it's just getting out of the house with a new name

So how does one see a bite at 90 yards exactly, which is where the bait needs to be because that's where the fish patrol and you can't steer them away like a roving shoal of starving canal roach?

On a float?...yeah sure

A quivertip?...possible on the face of it but the only option is tightened-up at that range. Unreliable, lacking necessary finesse to read bites and there's the fundamental issue of the rod tip being so soft yet needing to punch-out  two to three ounces and play fish back that distance, through weed, etc. No, that's not gonna work

So, yes okay, we'll go for the helicopter rig and self hooking set-up then. It really is the only option


As the weeks ran into months since the 2015/16 Bloggers' Challenge ended (with a resounding and not to say extremely well deserved overall win by James Denison who was head and shoulders above all-comers throughout really but, for me, the pinnacle was his exploits with big dace. The smallest of proper angler's fish but a fish over the pound is a mighty specimen and as important as any other big fish capture. Russell Hilton put in a superb effort doing it the hard way with largely canal fish for second place, again including some true specimens. I do look forward to doing it all again next year with a year's break between challenges on the cards. A situation I for one welcome as such a competition can become all-consuming and the opportunity to relax into some casual angling each alternate year is equally appealing)...now, where was I? Ah yes, weeks running into months. That's right...so another challenge took root

As I have recounted before The Stillwater has been a baffling experience. One would be forgiven for thinking there are no fish other than (some) small roach and the occasional carp but of course the tales filtering back from others confirms this not be the case

This spring I took it upon myself to make it work, or else find other options that suited my more active style of fishing, and it was at this point that I was coincidentally offered help in discussion with some long-standing members who must have seen some bizarre signs of promise/desperation in this old boy and who have subsequently been so generous for it to be almost embarrassing for me but it is so gratifying to find there really are still people out there in this otherwise often almost cut-throat world where knowledge is king and therefore selfishly protected by many (you know who you are guys!)

Slowly the pieces of the picture have slotted into place until June 16th, yes really - June 16th. With the start of the season my first bite on all this fancy gear I shot up out of my...erm...chair (I'm just keeping it active for someone else you understand, a bit like an old sports car). The closest I had come prior to that was the previous week when the alarm screamed, the bobbin hit the top and then struck the soil like a stainless steel stone...and then a clumsy great crested grebe surfaced and it had all been tantamount to a dream

 

But June 16th that was different. The bobbin lifted steadily, like it meant it and wasn't going to be put off its course, and stayed there. The hook was home and the fight began. Soon a doctor fish, so scarred it needed a vet anyway, was in the net and the battle had just begun. He went 3.8.8 (I refuse to give up my drams wherever possible!) and fought like a little demon

3lbs 8ozs of pocket battlefish

Now I knew that any bite would result in a p.b. it was fact wasn't it? We'll obviously not. Contrary to the likelihood and advice of others I had prepared myself for a less than exuberant start to this the last throw of the dice at The Stillwater. So, although I really was thrilled, I prayed this was only the start and suddenly confidence was lifted. If there's one there'll be others 

I must qualify this by saying that sitting there in this new found 'let me know when you're ready dear fishes' scenario was not in anyway against the grain once I'd got used to the idea. In fact, wait for it, I'd actually say it was better than my previous post-match fishing middle ground approach as it allowed me to bird and nature watch much more easily. My ancient trusty binoculars sit comfortably within reach, by my side, with mega-zoom camera and various phone-based lists are compiled. Where's the drawback?

 

Well of course there isn't one, its a massive step forward for this naturalist who happens to be an anger. A trip out is so much more than fishing again, or maybe for the very first time(s), now I can list almost every raptor that passes or passerine that cheeps; spy those small mammals nibbling on the kek or toad that ambles past and even take an interest in bee-mimicking hoverflies

 

That ain't no bee. The eyes have it

The fishing technique has been fascinating, not just because it is so new but also due to the intricacies of aspects one would not come-up with alone without many months, if not years, of trials but that I have been able to short cut by asking (too many) questions as each issue arose. Hook type, tail length, knot choice, relative position of rod/rest/bobbin/alarm, hook bait, feed, time of day, weather conditions, time of year, where to sit, how to cast, keeping fish out of weed. You name it I've asked it and within, I'd estimate, the space of just 3 weeks the results have shown themselves to reflect the fact of the true matter at hand here which is never criticise something until you understand it, and I for one have been somewhat guilty of this in the past simply because I enjoyed what I did and, I suppose, wished everyone else could enjoy it too

So, thanks to 'mentors anonymous from an unnamed stillwater' life is great. Oh, and did I mention that the tench p.b. did break, twice in fact, and subsequently shot-up from the previous 4.7.0 to 5.12.0 and then a significant jump to 8.8.1 (for me a true specimen) between 16th & 22nd June?

5.12.0 and (then) p.b.

Massive fins of the male

...and that iconic head with tiny red eye, suggesting a daylight feeder

The current p.b. then at 8lbs 8 ounces. A, probable partly spawned-out, female. A nine pound fish a few days prior?

 

So, the moral of the story is don't fish during the close season. The fish know! Plus they are still feeding now:

The swim this very day at 6.30am

And it's all down to being inquisitive and putting the answers into practice. Then, as is my unavoidable wont, I can look for that further 'edge' once I am reasonably fully versed (I can't stop myself there)

Just commercial fisheries to change my mind about next then. Now that would a challenge for somebody!