Thursday the 11th of October
After the previous days result I was keen to get back to the river for another crack at the perch and arranged work so that I could be bankside for 4pm. I had been thinking about my tactics overnight and had decided to fish both rods on the bobbins this time the thinking being that when using a quiver tip rod a bleep on the other rod always draws the eye to that set up and opens up the possibility of missing a bite on the tip, I thought that two rods fished side by side would be more efficient.
With a bed of bait applied by dropper both feeder clad rods were swung out three rod lengths or so to the near side of the crease and recast every twenty minutes with a top up of maggots. With the light levels already ebbing it wasn't long before a bobbin twitched indicating some interest before steadily climbing towards the rod. The strike was clean and so was the hook, I missed it which seemed a little strange considering that the bobbin was definately still climbing as I lifted the rod. Not to worry I thought and sent another little package of goodness out into the depths. Ten minutes later and the same thing happened again, a very confident bite was missed leaving me scratching my head and wondering what on earth was occuring. I lifted the rod rests up slightly to allow a longer drop on the bobbin in case I wasn't hitting the bites before resistance was felt and hoped that may help, the rod tips were pointing virtually straight at the rigs so I didn't think that rod pressure was the issue. Very soon another bite was indicated and this time I was into a fish, not huge at maybe a pound and three quarters but satisfying after the two missed affairs and it left me thinking that I may have solved the problem. I wasn't thinking that for long though as up until I packed up I missed two more cracking bites which left me more than a bit frustrated and cursing myself for not fishing the tip as I am certain that I would have converted most of those bites into fish, you live and learn. Nevertheless it intrigues me to know what was going on, without a doubt the bites were struck as the bobbin was moving which naturally makes you think that the bait was still in the fishes mouth, interesting but as I have the upmost confidence in converting bites on the quiver tip then I decided that would be my approach from now on.
Week commencing the 15th of October
I'm going to condense four short trips into one write up here, the river was up and down constantly and despite my best efforts, bordering on madness to be honest, it was never going to be a greatly successful week's perch fishing to be honest.
Monday was my most successful day, once again I only fished the last two or three hours into dark and using the tip rod this time I turned three bites into three fish. Although the largest was only maybe a pound and a quarter it was good to be landing fish rather than missing bites.
Tuesday evening was a right off, the river was on the up and the autumn leaves knocked from their perches by a feisty wind were coming down the river in hoardes making fishing a nightmare, if it wasn't a leaf catching the line I would wind in to find one impaled on the hook.
Wednesday saw me making the morning rush hour trip to the river only to take one look and turn around, are you starting to see some signs of obsession creeping in yet? A check of the EA river level website late in the evening seemed to indicate an improvement so another trip was on the cards for Thursday.
Thursday morning saw me on the bank before first light, in the gloom of dawn I thought things looked quite promising but stark reality hit home as time went on and more and more rubbish was seen making its way downstream. I poked a stick into the bank at water level for some reason even though it would only tell me the obvious and it did just than, an hor later and the water had crept up its length. The river was getting more coloured at quite a rate and I reluctantly decided to call it a day after three hours, not before a jack pike had given me the run around though.
Sometimes you really ought to just leave well alone and wait, unfortunately this addiction that I suffer makes that hard to bear though after a week like that I do look back and wonder about my sanity.
Showing posts with label quiver tip. Show all posts
Showing posts with label quiver tip. Show all posts
Sunday, 28 October 2012
Friday, 10 February 2012
River perching, or chubbing?
Tuesday the 7th of February
I had a list of jobs to do and the weather was particularly cold with a slight breeze that cut to the bone but I was going stir crazy and needed to get out of the house, a swift Derwent perch session was in order. I arrived at the car park to find that I was the first human visitor since Saturday with the only prints visible in the snow belonged to a fox and what I guessed was probably a hare. I made my way upstream by a couple of hundred yards to a swim that I've fished a few times over the last couple of years but which hasn't actually produced many perch for me, in fact I can only remember one. My mate Steve had a cracker at 3lb 5 which I photographed so I know it has got, or did have, potential and it certainly looks the part with a huge collection of collapsed branches making a perfect home for all sorts of fishy residents and holding back the current to provide me with a nice slack in which to drop my bait. In went just two small droppers of red maggot followed by one of worm, it was already 2.30pm and with the weather so inclement I wanted to err on the side of caution. Out went a three swan shot link with the customary snake attached and I plonked myself down on the chair which had to be positioned on a ledge that was just big enough to accept it and small enough to give me visions of a pending disaster especially as it was coated in an opaque layer of ice. Last year I was lucky enough to win a Korum chair, the one with a mesh construction which reduces weight and allows it to drain and dry quickly, up until now it had sat at home but I decided that it was due an airing and took it along. Construction, weight and deign looked very good but I soon discovered one problem peculiar to the weather conditions as the icy blast went straight through the perforations and chilled my arris to the bone, I think I will revert to my ye olde Fox version for extreme winter use!
It was a full belt and braces job clothing wise, the fingerless gloves went on within minutes and then I retrieved my snood from the rucksack and gave my neck some draught proofing, twenty minutes later the snood was converted into its balaclava mode with wooly hat pulled over too. I couldn't understand why my legs felt a bit nippy as thats one area that I usually manage to keep warm due to several layers but on answering a call of nature I actually discovered that I'd managed to come out without my trousers on! Don't worry I hadn't completely lost the plot and the essentials were covered by thermals and salopettes but the mid layer fleece bottoms were obviously still lying on the bedroom floor, damn. I just turned to head back to the swim in time to catch a passing Collie with leg half raised in the direction of my rucksack, a sharp yell persuaded it othererwise thankfully, I was starting to see the distinct potential of another one of "those" days at that point.
Just after 4.30 and I was drifting away into the world of big chub, the stretch does throw up the odd fish over 6lb's which would make me a very happy bunny and I was just thinking that I really should put some time in for them in the current cold conditions, I was so far gone that I found myself bent into a fish on auto pilot with only a brief recollection of the tip dropping back. The fight was pretty slow and lethargic and didn't feel at all perchy so it was no surprise to see a chub flashing its sides at me a couple of feet under the surface, in fact it looked a very good chub and on netting it I stood peering into the net with all sorts of thoughts going through my mind, it did look big, a pb maybe? The scales told a very different story at 4lb 13, I took it out of the sling, looked at it, re-zero'd the sling and weighed it again, still 4lb 13, it was an inncredibly chunky fish and that combined with my daydream had obviously played tricks on the mind. No complaints though it was a lovely fish on a hard day.
I stuck it out until dark was upon me with no other indications, the air carried the sound from the rush hour traffic in a way that only happens in very cold weather and reminded me of the real world as I picked my way carefully across the icy mounds littering the footpath and threatening to put me on my back. As I drove up the track a fox crossed in front of me, rather you than me mate I thought, I was off to get the fire lit.
I had a list of jobs to do and the weather was particularly cold with a slight breeze that cut to the bone but I was going stir crazy and needed to get out of the house, a swift Derwent perch session was in order. I arrived at the car park to find that I was the first human visitor since Saturday with the only prints visible in the snow belonged to a fox and what I guessed was probably a hare. I made my way upstream by a couple of hundred yards to a swim that I've fished a few times over the last couple of years but which hasn't actually produced many perch for me, in fact I can only remember one. My mate Steve had a cracker at 3lb 5 which I photographed so I know it has got, or did have, potential and it certainly looks the part with a huge collection of collapsed branches making a perfect home for all sorts of fishy residents and holding back the current to provide me with a nice slack in which to drop my bait. In went just two small droppers of red maggot followed by one of worm, it was already 2.30pm and with the weather so inclement I wanted to err on the side of caution. Out went a three swan shot link with the customary snake attached and I plonked myself down on the chair which had to be positioned on a ledge that was just big enough to accept it and small enough to give me visions of a pending disaster especially as it was coated in an opaque layer of ice. Last year I was lucky enough to win a Korum chair, the one with a mesh construction which reduces weight and allows it to drain and dry quickly, up until now it had sat at home but I decided that it was due an airing and took it along. Construction, weight and deign looked very good but I soon discovered one problem peculiar to the weather conditions as the icy blast went straight through the perforations and chilled my arris to the bone, I think I will revert to my ye olde Fox version for extreme winter use!
It was a full belt and braces job clothing wise, the fingerless gloves went on within minutes and then I retrieved my snood from the rucksack and gave my neck some draught proofing, twenty minutes later the snood was converted into its balaclava mode with wooly hat pulled over too. I couldn't understand why my legs felt a bit nippy as thats one area that I usually manage to keep warm due to several layers but on answering a call of nature I actually discovered that I'd managed to come out without my trousers on! Don't worry I hadn't completely lost the plot and the essentials were covered by thermals and salopettes but the mid layer fleece bottoms were obviously still lying on the bedroom floor, damn. I just turned to head back to the swim in time to catch a passing Collie with leg half raised in the direction of my rucksack, a sharp yell persuaded it othererwise thankfully, I was starting to see the distinct potential of another one of "those" days at that point.
Just after 4.30 and I was drifting away into the world of big chub, the stretch does throw up the odd fish over 6lb's which would make me a very happy bunny and I was just thinking that I really should put some time in for them in the current cold conditions, I was so far gone that I found myself bent into a fish on auto pilot with only a brief recollection of the tip dropping back. The fight was pretty slow and lethargic and didn't feel at all perchy so it was no surprise to see a chub flashing its sides at me a couple of feet under the surface, in fact it looked a very good chub and on netting it I stood peering into the net with all sorts of thoughts going through my mind, it did look big, a pb maybe? The scales told a very different story at 4lb 13, I took it out of the sling, looked at it, re-zero'd the sling and weighed it again, still 4lb 13, it was an inncredibly chunky fish and that combined with my daydream had obviously played tricks on the mind. No complaints though it was a lovely fish on a hard day.
I stuck it out until dark was upon me with no other indications, the air carried the sound from the rush hour traffic in a way that only happens in very cold weather and reminded me of the real world as I picked my way carefully across the icy mounds littering the footpath and threatening to put me on my back. As I drove up the track a fox crossed in front of me, rather you than me mate I thought, I was off to get the fire lit.
Saturday, 4 February 2012
Winter tench and perch - No rules in this game
Friday the 3rd of February
Myself and fellow Soar Valley group member Rob had arranged to have a day perching on the Derwent, it was originally arranged for the previous day but events conspired against us, Thursday was certainly not what you could call warm with temperatures not much about freezing though there was some cloud cover. Friday's forcast was colder still and when I looked at the computer at 8am it was minus six with bright sunshine due all day, not exactly ideal conditions, it was going to be tough. We pulled up at the side of the road at 10am and made our way downstream for a short distance to our chosen area amongst some bankside tree's. My plan was to use my normal tactics of worm fished over a light helping of red maggot and chopped worm, Rob had also got a worm rod set up but was determined to catch one on the drop shot method and used that on and off for most of the day.
First job was to get the bait dropper out and put some free offerings into the swim, four small loads of maggot and two of worm followed shortly afterwards with a big juicy lob on the rig which was twitched back by a turn of the reel every now and then. There were no signs of fishy life whatsoever for the first three hours or so but as usual in the winter the wildlife was more noticeable, a flock of long tailed tits worked the alder to my left as did a tree creeper and a gang of crows came over chasing away an unwanted buzzard. It would be nice to have a go at photographing some of these birds but that would require a camera with a considerably better zoom than I use, or in fact want to carry while angling due to weight and bulk, I often think that if I wasn't an angler I could get into photography they are quite similiar in some respects, hunting down that special shot. Robins however tend to be a bit more obliging, no zoom needed there.
At about 1pm I started to get a few very small indications on the tip, each time I wondered if it was a perchy bite starting to develop but it didn't happen until 2pm when the tip absolutely belted round completely out of the blue and I hooked into a fish that got my heart pumping in an instant, it was really scrapping and made several attempts to get under the nearside trees until I hauled it away and then up popped, wait for it, a tench! You wouldn't credit it would you, night time temperatures beyong minus six, frost still on the ground throughout the day and I catch a tench, it just goes to prove that you really never do know, in angling anything can happen. A few more droppers of bait went in and three quarters of an hour later Rob was standing beside me when the tip started to twitch again before pulling round and I was into another hard fighting fish, in fact too hard for a perch, you've got it, another tench, unbelievable. Out with the dropper again for another top up as no doubt the tench hadn't left much in the way of free offerings down there.
A few more twitches that didn't develop over the next hour kept my interest up and then once again I struck into a fish and there was no doubt at all that this one wasn't a perch, in fact it was a pike of about 6lb's which was swiftly scooped up and returned further downstream.With dusk starting to set in I knew that my best chance of a perch was approaching and right on cue at 5pm one arrived, a typical perch bite (just like the tench bite!) developed and this time I knew that the hooked fish had stripes and had 2lb 9oz's it was a very welcome end to a strange days fishing.
Myself and fellow Soar Valley group member Rob had arranged to have a day perching on the Derwent, it was originally arranged for the previous day but events conspired against us, Thursday was certainly not what you could call warm with temperatures not much about freezing though there was some cloud cover. Friday's forcast was colder still and when I looked at the computer at 8am it was minus six with bright sunshine due all day, not exactly ideal conditions, it was going to be tough. We pulled up at the side of the road at 10am and made our way downstream for a short distance to our chosen area amongst some bankside tree's. My plan was to use my normal tactics of worm fished over a light helping of red maggot and chopped worm, Rob had also got a worm rod set up but was determined to catch one on the drop shot method and used that on and off for most of the day.
First job was to get the bait dropper out and put some free offerings into the swim, four small loads of maggot and two of worm followed shortly afterwards with a big juicy lob on the rig which was twitched back by a turn of the reel every now and then. There were no signs of fishy life whatsoever for the first three hours or so but as usual in the winter the wildlife was more noticeable, a flock of long tailed tits worked the alder to my left as did a tree creeper and a gang of crows came over chasing away an unwanted buzzard. It would be nice to have a go at photographing some of these birds but that would require a camera with a considerably better zoom than I use, or in fact want to carry while angling due to weight and bulk, I often think that if I wasn't an angler I could get into photography they are quite similiar in some respects, hunting down that special shot. Robins however tend to be a bit more obliging, no zoom needed there.
At about 1pm I started to get a few very small indications on the tip, each time I wondered if it was a perchy bite starting to develop but it didn't happen until 2pm when the tip absolutely belted round completely out of the blue and I hooked into a fish that got my heart pumping in an instant, it was really scrapping and made several attempts to get under the nearside trees until I hauled it away and then up popped, wait for it, a tench! You wouldn't credit it would you, night time temperatures beyong minus six, frost still on the ground throughout the day and I catch a tench, it just goes to prove that you really never do know, in angling anything can happen. A few more droppers of bait went in and three quarters of an hour later Rob was standing beside me when the tip started to twitch again before pulling round and I was into another hard fighting fish, in fact too hard for a perch, you've got it, another tench, unbelievable. Out with the dropper again for another top up as no doubt the tench hadn't left much in the way of free offerings down there.
A few more twitches that didn't develop over the next hour kept my interest up and then once again I struck into a fish and there was no doubt at all that this one wasn't a perch, in fact it was a pike of about 6lb's which was swiftly scooped up and returned further downstream.With dusk starting to set in I knew that my best chance of a perch was approaching and right on cue at 5pm one arrived, a typical perch bite (just like the tench bite!) developed and this time I knew that the hooked fish had stripes and had 2lb 9oz's it was a very welcome end to a strange days fishing.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
River Soar chub angling
Saturday the 28th of January
I found myself with a pass out for a
few hours and thought it was about time I had a bite and so decided
to head down to the River Soar for a bit of tip fishing for chub, one
of my favourite methods going back to when I was a kid and something
I look forward to every winter.
My first port of call was one of my
favourite chub swims, quite a tricky swim to fish in that the fish
are across towards the far back in a large back eddy containing a
raft of rubbish gathered around an overhanging tree with a
considerable amount of flow running through the inside line. The back
eddy wants to pull your rig upstream and the main flow wants to pull
the line downstrean, the way to fish it is to sit high above the
water at the top of the bank which allows you to hold as much line as
possible out of the flow. One of the ways that I fish the swim is to
use a piece of bread flake on a swan shot link just heavy enough to
hold bottom but which will occaisionally bounce around in the flow,
the quiver contantly bounces and pulls back and forth and you have to
read the signs carefully to determine exactly what's happening but
its a captivating method and very effective as you can cover large
areas, especially in the back eddy.
Today I had decided to go in with an open ended feeder filled with liquidised bread and flake on the hook, there's nothing subtle about my tackle for this kind of fishing, a 5lb Double Strength hooklink to a size 4 or 6 Drennan Specimen hook is all I ever use, chub have got mouths like buckets and with a big fluffy lump of flake on the hook size is largely irrelevant to my mind.
Today I had decided to go in with an open ended feeder filled with liquidised bread and flake on the hook, there's nothing subtle about my tackle for this kind of fishing, a 5lb Double Strength hooklink to a size 4 or 6 Drennan Specimen hook is all I ever use, chub have got mouths like buckets and with a big fluffy lump of flake on the hook size is largely irrelevant to my mind.
The problem with the swim was that the
margins were still full of dead reeds still awaiting a decent winter
flood to send them on their way and I had to decide how I was going
to land anything hooked, the choice being to either walk upstream
five yards or downstream ten, past experience told me that the fish
always headed downstream and so that was my choice although that did
involve negotiating a fence on route, I left my net propped up
against it at the ready. Ten minutes into my first cast and the tip
twitched a couple of times before dropping back and a fish was on, I
was straight out of my chair and over the fence before applying too
much pressure in the hope that the fish would hold mid stream which
it did, allowing me to get a good angle and draw it down between two
mid river reed clumps and into the net. Not a bad fish at about 4lb's
which I unhooked and returned fifty yards upstream so as not to
disturb the swims remaining residents. The next few casts didn't
bring any response which is a little unusual for this spot and I
decided to put a bait right across tight to the raft, that did the
trick and once again the tip rattled for a moment before pulling
round steadily and chub number two was on. This time the plan didn't
work out quite as intended and the fish buried itself in the marginal
rubbish before I could gain full control resulting in a hookpull.
With the complication of landing fish and the fact that I know had a
spooked chub in the swim I made the decision to move on and headed
upstream several hundred yards to one of my other banker spots.
Once again the swim was festooned with dead reeds but with a bit of persuasion and the reliable tackle I was using landing fish shouldn't prove to be too much of a problem and so it proved to be with another three chub gracing the net in not much more than an hour before I decided to call it a day and head back to a nice roaring fire with a smile on my face.
 | |
| Debris |
Once again the swim was festooned with dead reeds but with a bit of persuasion and the reliable tackle I was using landing fish shouldn't prove to be too much of a problem and so it proved to be with another three chub gracing the net in not much more than an hour before I decided to call it a day and head back to a nice roaring fire with a smile on my face.
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| A Soar valley sunset |
Monday the 30th of January
With a cold week ahead and not much
sign of work I had it in mind to do a few short sessions locally
rather than head down to Linch Hill, a break would replenish the old
batteries and I do enjoy some variety in my fishing.
Something gave me a hankering to do a
bit of trotting, I reckon its probably two or three years since I
cast a float in anger and that was a one off, its just not
something I do often and I really should do more as its great fun.
With that in mind I headed back down to the Soar armed with a
selection of chubbers and a loaf, I only had a couple of hours spare
but in the right place that should be long enough to get a bite or
two which is the beauty of winter chubbing to me, a few bits of
tackle and a loaf and I can expect some sport on the coldest of days
and be back to a toasty warm home in no time, lovely.
I headed to the area I started at on
Saturday and made my first casts at the start of the field working my
way downstream after three or four runs through on different lines in
each swim. Four or five spots were tried without a sign of fish and I
then arrived at the best looking area of the stretch with a long
series of overhanging trees providing plenty of cover for old rubber
lips, if I was a chub thats where I'd live.
A couple of handfuls of
compressed liquidised bread went in at the start of the run and was
followed shortly after by a big lump of flake carried downstream at a
nice steady pace towards the first raft. The float was carried
straight past the best looking spot and down into open water where I
was just about to retrieve it as it disapeared and a swift strike
hooked my first chub of the day, a small one of maybe 2 1/2lb's.
Another dose of free feed went in after I had walked the fish upstream to return it and the next cast was made, this time the chub had been reading the text books and nailed the bait right on cue inches from the dangling branches. This was a better fish and I had to lock the rod into its battle curve and plunge the tip under water to keep the line clear of the snags but the pressure worked and drew the chub upstream into the net, 4lb 1oz that one went. Once again I fed the swim and flicked the chubber back upstream of the tree and once again it sank right next the tree and number three was on and giving a repeat performance to his mate, that one made 4lb 3oz's. Happy with that and with my time ran out I called it a day and wandered back to the van with the winter sun in my face.
 |
| Chub central |
Another dose of free feed went in after I had walked the fish upstream to return it and the next cast was made, this time the chub had been reading the text books and nailed the bait right on cue inches from the dangling branches. This was a better fish and I had to lock the rod into its battle curve and plunge the tip under water to keep the line clear of the snags but the pressure worked and drew the chub upstream into the net, 4lb 1oz that one went. Once again I fed the swim and flicked the chubber back upstream of the tree and once again it sank right next the tree and number three was on and giving a repeat performance to his mate, that one made 4lb 3oz's. Happy with that and with my time ran out I called it a day and wandered back to the van with the winter sun in my face.
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