A woolly jumper in a bit of a predicament!

I've had a few strange happenings during fishing sessions this year. Such as a mystery animal sprinting towards me in the dark, straight into my legs before disappearing!  By the sound of it's light, rhythmic scampering as it approached I'm pretty sure it was a stoat (definitely that kind of size) but I'll never know! 

Then, just last week, I had a most unusual start to an evening barbel session on the Derbyshire Derwent.  I just had to write the story down for posterity! 

As I was walking to bait up a few spots I heard a faint bleat of a sheep, close by, but the only ones I could see where at the other end of the field.  Another bleat; that came from the river!  I looked below the sheer, high bank I was stood on and there was a sheep, completely stranded, above its armpits in water!  

With a high bank one side and deep water the other, this sheep was well & truly stuck there.  There was a small ledge behind the sheep and, as I had my waders on, I thought if I could get the sheep onto that I could possibly lift it up back into the field.  I didn't really think I stood a chance of moving it but I had my thigh waders on so I found a way into the water, which was only just shallow enough to not overflow into them.

The sheep seemed completely exhausted and thankfully didn't struggle, but it also didn’t help itself either.  Getting it onto the ledge was awkward because its legs just went floppy!  I could only grab handfuls of wool and this waterlogged sheep was surprisingly heavy, so there were a few precarious moments!  With a bit of heaving I managed to move the sheep to a spot where we could both get our breath back.  I knew I couldn’t lift the sheep any further up the high bank by its wool, so I thought hard what to do next.  I spent a few weeks on a sheep station in Australia, about 15 years ago, and I thought back to how the sheep shearers dragged large sheep around by the legs, quite easily.

 

So I rolled the sheep over, grabbed 2 legs in each hand and hoiked it up the bank.  I managed to get it (and myself) up to safety and within a few minutes it was off happily chewing grass!

I was still worried for the chances of the sheep, so I searched for local farms on Google Maps and called the nearest one with a phone number.  It wasn’t the right farm, but he knew the farmer they belonged to.  He advised me that as long as the sheep was walking okay, "they’re pretty resilient things” and it should be fine, but he thanked me for my concern & efforts and promised to let the farmer know.

The night dropped quite cool later on and with the water so high up the sheep’s body, I’m sure it wouldn’t have seen the night through if I’d left it where it was.  The two most likely outcomes would surely have been drowning or hypothermia. 

I was hoping for a bit of good karma after my good deed, but I didn’t get as much as a tip tremor all evening!

2015 - My Highlights - Part 2: Clear River Stalking for Chub & Barbel

In the second of my Highlights of 2015 posts I once again visit the Derbyshire Derwent, but a different stretch this time.  The session provided me with a great insight into the lives of barbel & chub when this river is exceptionally low and clear...

Fishing for barbel & chub in clear water on the Derwent

Every now and again, a fishing session comes along which unexpectedly knocks you sideways.  Sometimes it can be a red letter day in the form of the number or size of fish you catch, other times it's the things you see or the whole experience.

I had one such day last July, where it was the latter which made the day special.  I caught some fish but the overriding highlights of the day were the things I witnessed.  Forgive me if I get carried away describing something you see regularly, but because I don't fish during the daytime very often, this whole experience was something quite special for me.

It started when I decided to head to a stretch of the River Derwent which I had only ever fished once, several years ago.  It was primarily a reconnaissance session to reaquiant myself with the swims and try to find some fish-holding areas to target on future evening sessions.

I started off by walking the entire stretch with a lure rod, a net, a small selection of lures, a baitdropper and some mixed pellets, casters & hemp.  The thinking behind this mish-mash of tackle was to wander from swim to swim, watching the water and scanning the area using my polaroid sunglasses.  If I thought a swim had potential for a lure-caught fish I would work a few lures through it and if I thought a swim had barbel or chub potential I would drop in some bait with the baitdropper.

The day was very warm with bright sunshine and the river was running extremely low, so I had expected to find spottting fish (and catching any on lures) very difficult.  I was mainly looking for any snags, undercut banks, deep depressions and gravel runs which may hold fish in the future.

As it transpired, access to swims on the stretch was extremely limited and I had to bash my way through to the water's edge in a few places, only to find a sheer cliff straight down to the water.  Not ideal!  So for a while my casts were limited to 5 or 6 small areas where I could safely reach the water.  I hadn't seen a sign of any fish but as I continued downstream, scanning the water as I wandered, I glimpsed something which stopped me in my tracks.

At the head of a deep, shady pool between two shallow sections I'd spotted a group of seven or eight big chub basking near the surface.  I dropped to my knees amongst the tall dry grass and Himalayan balsam as I racked my brain for other explanations of what I thought I saw.  As I peered over the foliage I fully expected to see only an empty pool but the fish were definitely fish and they were still there, seemingly unaware or unperturbed by my presence.

What's more is that not only were there seven or eight fish, as I looked more carefully I could make out many more - over twenty in total, all between 4lb and 6lb+ - and beneath them were a few big barbel scattered around.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing, it was by far the largest group of specimen fish I had ever laid eyes on.  As I watched, several individual fish drifted away from the main group, into the sanctuary of overhanging trees and then back again.  Therein laid the problem!

This swim was impossible to fish!  In the near margin a fallen tree laid parallel to the bank from the top of the swim to halfway down.  An Alder was growing on my bank, right in the middle of the swim and from there downstream there was a sheer drop of around 9 feet down to the water.  This was the only fishable place in the swim, but it was already beyond halfway down the pool and I would be in an extremely exposed position, guaranteed to spook the shoal especially when it came to landing a fish.  That is if I could steer a fish away from the near-margin snag or even cast far enough upstream thanks to the tree in the way!  Needless to say, the fish would have the upper hand.

I thought things through  and decided that if I could reach the gravel shallows above the deep hole, I could fish down towards the shoal and confidently steer any hooked fish upstream away from the snags.  I crawled upstream to see if my theory would be possible but alas, the main channel was a couple of strides from my bank and - critically and frustratingly - this channel was about 6 inches deeper than my thigh waders were high!

With that theory out of the window I wrote off the swim as completely unfishable.  Instead I decided to make the most of the spectacle by seeing if I could get the shoal feeding or if they would spook and disappear.  I crept into a position where I could see most of the shoal, but remain hidden by the Alder, tentatively threw five or six casters upstream of the shoal and waited.  I was delighted to see more than one fish move straight towards the falling bait and intercept them.  Of this first handful, I think 2 or 3 casters made it past the fish but from then on almost everything I introduced into the swim was taken.  After a few minutes I decided I'd better save my bait for swims I could actually fish, so I reluctantly halted the introduction of free offerings, slowly backed away from the swim and continued my search downstream.

The "Impossible" swim!  (Apologies for my sketchy sketching!)

It took me almost 2 hours to battle through the undergrowth in my waders.  Parts of the stretch hadn't seen a human this season and I was literally pounding a trail through.  Unfortunately I didn't find too many areas to pique my interest and having only put bait into 3 or 4 swims well upstream, I wondered what my next move should be.  During the long walk back to the van to swap my lure tackle for my quivertip & float tackle I decided to fish these swims on rotation as I walked back downstream.

Nothing happened after an hour of casting a swimfeeder at the top of the swim and trotting below it and I had a nagging feeling about the"unfishable" swim full of feeding fish that I'd left earlier.  Eventually I could take it no more and ventured down to the swim to see if the fish were still there and, more importantly, to see if I could work out a way to catch one.  I was certain that if I caught a single fish it would spook the shoal.  But with several of the fish appearing to be potential PBs, I reasoned that it would be worth a try in case that one fish was one of the biggies.

When I arrived at the swim the fish were still there and a couple of pouchfulls of casters were soon being picked off by specimens.  Soon I introduced hemp and a few pellets and these too were taken gladly.  I continued to feed for almost an hour and got more and more excited as I watched the fish gain in confidence and I gradually worked the shoal downstream as far as I could.  The odd particles that reached the riverbed were hoovered up by competing barbel, but due to the size of the chub and the near-margin snags it was the chub I wanted to target.  As these were within a few inches of surface, and I could only flick a rig fractionally above the fish, so any float stem protruding beneath the surface was sure to spook them.  In an ideal world I would have used a blob of floating putty to give me the weight to flick a bait towards the fish with minimal disturbance.  However, I had none in my light stalking bag so I had to improvise.

In one of my bits pouches I found a small hardwood float I'd been given and used once.  It's designed to be fished shallow on stillwaters and is designed to be shot-free, so it's self-cocking.  A tiny swivel is held to the float body by a silicone sleeve, so I removed this and used the silicone to hold the float in place at a depth of around 6 inches.  I pinched 2 small Stotz onto the line between float and hook and fished straight-through to a strong size 16 specimen hook.

I was sure I'd only get one shot at a fish and if I screwed up the cast the chance would be gone.  As it turned out my first cast landed in the perfect spot but I didn't check my line quickly enough and as it fell it looped over a branch on the dead tree.  I left it as long as I dared before flicking my rod tip and freed the line and then I watched as a good chub approached the bait and then turned away at the last moment.  The bait moved downstream of the fish and I had to reel in, cringing as I waited for the fish to move off.  They hung around but before I could make another cast there was a commotion in the middle of the swim.  A large pike had appeared and taken a swipe at one of the chub on the edge of the shoal!  Disaster, or so I thought, but as the pike skulked back to the streamer weed bed it appeared from I noticed that the majority of the chub were still present.

I fed them a few lots of free offereings before I dared make another cast and although experience meant I missed the dead tree this time, the same thing happened with a chub which was interested and then not.  Sensing my luck was running out I added a couple of inches of depth to the rig, to allow the bait to flutter and fall more naturally.  This was the change I needed to make, as a chub approached from downstream and nabbed the bait, hook and all!

A subtle wind-down was required, rather than a full-on strike, for me to stand any chance of not spooking the other fish.  It worked in the sense that the chub didn't charge around the swim; it flopped around instead and allowed me to shuffle to the exposed spot where I could ship my landing net down towards the water, in full view of every other fish.  My chub was safely netted and to my surprise most of the other fish still seemed to ignore my presence.

Upstream I found a spot where I could reach the river to rest the chub in the net whilst I set up my camera gear and hurriedly weighed and photographed the fish.  At 4lb 10oz it was a good way from being a PB, it was far from one of the largest in the shoal, but I have never worked harder for a single chub and the sense of achievement was immense.

I had landed a fish from the "unfishable" swim but after the entertainment the fish in this swim had given me, landing anything was a bonus.  I truly felt privileged to witness such a large congregation of big fish feeding confidently in such crystal clear water.

When I returned to the swim the chub had vanished but a few barbel remained, grubbing around in the gravel.  I decided to push my luck and try to land one and quickly setup the quivertip rod with a link leger and hook with a single banded pellet.  Within a couple of minutes of flicking it out a barbel picked the bait.  This time it knew what was going on and made for the snag before I had chance to get far enough downstream to stand any chance.  I felt it bump through several submerged branches and I knew I was fighting a losing battle, but when the line parted my conscience was allieviated slightly by knowing my simple rig should cause the fish few problems.

It was then I knew it was time to move on and I headed to a snag swim that I'd pre-baited earlier.  From here I landed a 9lb 5oz barbel as darkness fell and I chanced one last move back to the "impossible" swim.

The reason for my return is that I thought with the cover of darkness I could fish farther downstream, up on the high bank which left me so exposed in daylight.  That way I had an immediate advantage to bring the fish downstream away from the snags.  I would think about how to land the fish if and when I got that far!

Sure enough, fish were still feeding in the swim.  Within quarter of an hour I missed a bite, which must have been a chub.  Minutes later the rod wrenched round again and a barbel outwitted me in the darkness and just made it to the tip of a branch on the fallen tree.  I knew this would be my last cast before home, so I turned on my headlamp.  The fish was visible beneath the surface and if I could have reached the branch with my landing net pole (I had the Drennan Super Specialist extending 3 metre handle at full stretch!) I could have freed it but it was 2 feet beyond reach.  I tried pulling from as many angles as possible.  I even tried lowering myself down to stand on the snag but my hand holds were giving way and I ran out of options.  In the end the barbel pulled itself free and left my hook in the branch, proving that - for barbel at least - this swim really was impossible.  And unsafe!

2015 - My Highlights - Part 1: Trotting for Barbel on the Derwent

In April last year my life was changed forever by the birth of my daughter!  So whilst I've been experiencing the highs and challenges of fatherhood, finding time to fish has become even more difficult.  Time to blog about it has inevitably proved yet trickier to find!  I have, however, sneaked in a short evening session most weeks since June and I've really enjoyed the fishing I've done this season.  More than I have in quite some time!

So I thought I would write about my 3 angling highlights from last summer; a blog post for each.  They include a first, a PB and an exhilarating spot of close-quarters, clear water fishing.  If you like the sound of those, read on...

First barbel on the stick float

A couple of seasons ago I decided that I really wanted to catch a barbel on the float.  With almost all of my barbel fishing consisting of summer & autumn evening sessions, I only managed 4 or 5 hours of trotting for them last season, with only a few small silver fish and minnows to show for my efforts.  This year I decided to put some effort in at the beginning of the season when, arriving at the river between 7pm and 7.30, I would still have a good couple of hours of decent daylight available to me.

Although I was hoping for a barbel, so early on in the season I would be thankful to catch anything bigger than a minnow!  So, I got cracking from on my first session of the season, which was to the Derbyshire Derwent.  I had a spot in mind with a good steady flow and depth of around 5 feet when the water is low, which it has been all season on the DD.  My rig was pretty simple; 8lb mainline with a large, wire-stemmed Avon float through to a size 16 specimen hook on a 6lb hooklength.  I started off using a bulk-shotting pattern, but I wasn't happy with how this was fishing so I soon moved to shotting in a shirt-button style.

Last season I trotted maggots and was plagued by minnows but I also landed a few roach on legered pellets.  Interested to see if the Derwent could produce a real specimen roach, I decided that feeding mixed-size pellets and then trotting a 6 or 8mm banded pellet should give me a decent chance of hooking barbel, chub, bream or even a decent roach.

The first session went pretty well.  I used my first few casts to learn the exact contours of the swim and after half an hour or so of steady feeding I had my first bite.  The fish charged around the swim, convincing me that I'd hooked a small barbel or even a carp, but when it tired and neared the surface, the fish which appeared was a chub of around four pounds.  A good fish on the float to kick-off the season with!

After the chub I had no further action on the float, but spurred on by this success I went for similar tactics next session, but I put in a few casters, pellets and some hemp in with a baitdropper before I started.

Within half an hour I was beginning to get bites on the banded pellet, which to begin with where from small roach and then a surprise grayling.  This gave me a bit of confidence, but I was longing for a real tussle.  

Occasionally I flicked out the float slightly further upstream, giving the bait chance to settle near the bottom earlier in the trot.  Near the beginning of one such trot through, the float buried and as I struck, something pulled hard in the opposite direction.  A barbel was hooked and it soon dawned on me that all this time spent trying to tempt a barbel to take a float-fished bait was the easy part; now I had to try to control and land the thing!

So began a couple of minutes of what I can only describe as enjoyable panic!  I had a little chuckle to myself as I listened to the tinny 'pings' let out by the drag clicker on the aluminium spool as it spun and time seemed to stand still for a few seconds as I appreciated the way this barbel was pulling on the float gear.  At the same time I knew full well that it was pulling straight towards a big bed of ranunculus!  

The fish made it to the weedbed but with some internal words of encouragement to calmmy decision making, a bit of gentle persuasion soon had the barbel out and back into open water.  I was glad I hadn't gone for a lighter hooklength because this little episode would have been the end of my battle. 

Thankfully my hooklength - and my resolve - held out and a fit, chunky barbel of 8lb+ was in the net.  My first barbel hooked & landed on the float and a personal goal attained!  With a large ranunculus patch just in front of me I waded out to rest the fish on top of it for a couple of trophy shots before returning it.

A few minutes after I released this fish the light dropped sufficiently to make trotting impossible, but it held on just long enough for me to take my first grayling from this stretch.  Not a big one at all, but what it lacked in size it made up for in greed, as it also took a 6mm pellet!

 

One of the benefits of trotting during the last few hours of daylight is that - regardless of whether you catch on the float or not - the trickle of loosefeed going into the swim should draw fish in for if you want to fish static baits after dark.  This is exactly what I intended to do, so as the float rod was put into the rod bag a couple of quivertip rods came out.

A couple of biteless hours passed by, but I was confident that some barbel would show up at some point thanks to the bait that went in earlier.  The water was low & clear and with the commotion caused by landing the earlier barbel, I suspected any others were making the most of the sanctuary offered by the streamer weed.

I was using 1oz open-end swimfeeders with long hooklinks down to heavy-gauge size 14 hooks.  To match what I'd been feeding earlier in the session, I fished with a cluster of mixed-size pellets on the hair which I then dunked in some Gloop from The Hookbait Company and finally dusted the whole lot with groundbait for maximum appeal.

The tip on my upstream rod (cast just in front of the ranunculus bed which supported my earlier barbel for the photos) twitched promisingly a couple of times and my hand was on it in a flash.  As it started to wrap around I lifted into a fish which plodded purposely around.  We had a couple of stalemates and it took a few minutes before I could really get the better of it; conscious all the time of the volume of weed it could reach quickly in almost every direction!

Finally I worked the fish upstream of where I was stood.  By this point I'd realised it was a very decent fish I was attached to, which is why it was plodding steadily rather than charging around like the fish on the float had.  As the fish surfaced I eased it towards the waiting landing net and it was mine!  At exactly 12lb it ended up being my largest barbel of 2015 and came as a huge bonus to what had already been a productive and enjoyable evening.

A Very Welcome Highlight to End the River Season

It's a now a month since the rivers closed and I'm just getting around to typing up my 'end of season round-up' post.  I don't think I've fully grasped the concept of a blog!  Well, better late than never, I suppose...

Somehow I've managed to once again have a poor end to the season.  What's made this one different to previous seasons is that it followed a poor middle of the season and a disappointing start to the season too!

Okay, so I haven't had as many hours on the bank since November as I wanted, but the efforts I did make had brought me 0 fish on the bank since November too!  A few evening sessions fishing for zander, a few of the same after barbel (in seemingly ideal conditions, too) and an all-day chub session all resulted in a single half-hearted bite and no fish hooked or landed. 

In February I escaped the horrendous floods by heading to a canal which manages to remain clear no matter what the conditions.  It was a slow day during which I fished static deadbaits, wobbled deadbaits and lures, which all generated very little interest.  Finally a float-legered sardine I'd cast tight to a reedbed was picked up and line was being taken fast.  In my eagerness I rushed to set the hooks.  If I'd taken a second to look and think, I would have seen that my float was disappearing behind a clump of reeds, causing an angle between the rod and the hooks.  A few strides up the bank before striking would have alleviated this, but I had a momentary lapse of angling intuition and instead struck from where I stood.  The water erupted beside the reeds as a very large fish pulled back.  

No sooner had my rod hooped over than the fish buried deep in the reeds, a few more kicks as I scrambled to get a better angle of pull and the fish was gone, leaving my hooks embedded in the Norfolk reeds, which eventually defeated my mainline.  Bloody Norfolk reeds, over the years I've lost more tackle in them than in trees, or any other snag for that matter.  Despite their thin, hollow construction they are remarkably strong and even 15lb mainline is no match for them if the hook has a firm hold.

After that, I tried all sorts, went to see how other stretches of the canal were fishing and it became apparent that with one run, I was faring better than most.  I decided to return to my original stretch and hope there were more fish around, or that the fish I lost might get over its inevitable sulk quick enough to be tempted by a different type of bait (if ever I lose a pike on a certain bait, or have a follow on a certain lure, my default response is to try a different bait/lure, which they may not view with as much suspicion as they would seeing the same one again).  Despite a free-roving float - which I was drifting around the canal with the wind - bobbing encouragingly a few times as dusk approached, it wasn't to be my day and I left cursing the fact that I really f***ed up when it mattered most and lost what I think was a very decent pike.

Before I could get out again, the final week of the river season was upon me.  I only had time to go fishing once after work that week.  Conditions seemed perfect for barbel and I had some new boilies I wanted to try out, so I headed to the Derwent.

The weather was mild for the time of year so instead of heading to the deeper holes and runs that I'm usually tempted to try in February and March, I tried a swim which had shallows immediately upstream of it, and dropped to a maximum depth of around 6 feet mid-river.  The water pace is pretty fast here, so it's not the kind of place I'd expect to find barbel when it's really cold, but with night-time temperatures hovering around double figures, there was every chance the fish could be hard on the feed in somewhere just like this.

Having lost a bit of faith in the baits I'd been using (I started to question the freshness of the shelf-life baits which seemed to have a more sour aroma than when I'd bought them previously) and only landing a couple of chub on luncheon meat all season, I was eager to try something new.  I'd heard good things about The Hook Bait Company, so I ordered a few different flavours of their freezer baits in 14mm & 16mm dumbbells.

I also opted to switch from a large swimfeeder to a small lead, just enough to hold bottom.  The main reason for this is that with the heavy floods many anglers had stayed at home.  Any rigs that were cast into the rivers would have landed in several extra feet of coloured floodwater, so as they landed they would probably go unnoticed by the barbel.  Therefore the barbel would have had a very quiet few weeks of getting used to not being bombarded with heavy feeders and leads.  Now the rivers had fined down and the water was quite clear, any large splashes would most likely be viewed with suspicion, possibly putting the barbel off the feed or causing them to move out of the swim altogether.

I still wanted a bit of scent going into the water, so I made up some small PVA stockings of groundbait, a few pellets and a couple of crumbled boilies then attached them to my rig with the very handy Avid Carp PVA metal link.

I baited each rod with a 3-B boilie and a Big Squid boilie and put them out mid-river, one in the deeper part and one at the bottom of the rapids, where it just started to deepen off.  It was 8pm by the time I got both rigs into the water, which was disappointing as I knew this would be my last session of the season and I may have already missed the main feeding spell.  I doubted whether I could face another blank and where it would leave me if the season ended without me banking a fish during the first 3 months of 2014.  Still, I knew I could do nothing more so I sat back in wait, enjoying the mild late winter evening.

Twenty minutes later the downstream rod tip careened towards the water.  Unmistakably a barbel bite!  It had been a while since I'd hooked anything, let alone a barbel, so it was a fantastic but slightly unnerving sensation to feel something take line at speed.  I couldn't do anything with it at first, the clutch was already as tight as I dared have it, but as far as I knew there was open water in front of me (Although anything could have been deposited by the floods.).

It took at least a minute, but it felt much longer, before I could get the fish under control enough to regain any line.  I started making headway and got the fish halfway back to me when I felt a bump and everything went solid.  My worst nightmare!  I didn't know what snag the fish had found, but it didn't feel like I was going to be able to move it (It was probably a submerged clump of Norfolk reeds!).  I started shaking, knowing that I had hooked something decent which could save the end of my season, but I was now within one wrong move of losing it.  I tried to remain calm so I didn't do anything rash, like I'd done on the pike session, and after maintaining contact and pulling from as many different angles as I could I decided my best chance would be to slacken off for a few seconds and hope the fish moved off.

To my relief after trying this a couple of times the rig came free of the snag and lo and behold, it was still attached to the fish!  I didn't want to take anything for granted now and tried to play the fish in as quickly as possible.  After a few near-misses close to the landing net, the fish was safely nestled within it.  First cast with the new baits and I'd landed what was clearly my best barbel of the season and it looked like it should definitely make double figures.

The weighing confirmed I'd landed my first double figure barbel of a disappointing barbel season, at 10lb 9oz.  I cannot tell you the relief to catch a decent fish on my final attempt and to make it all the more special, it gave me such a memorable scrap.  Hopefully next season the rivers will be kinder to me, but when I look back at last season it won't seem quite so bleak as I it might.

My first fish of 2014 and my last of the 2013/14 season also ended up being my first 10lb+ barbel of the season

The Best of my Barbel fishing from last Summer

New Years resolution:  Update my blog more regularly!

Three-quarters of the river season has already flown by since I last wrote, which is extremely slack of me, but hopefully there are still a few people out there interested in reading, so I'll update on how my Summer fishing went and then I plan to do a small post on what I've done since (unfortunately not many fish to write about since November!), by which point I should be back in the habit of writing on here more regularly.

The good news is that the fishing I did over the Summer was generally excellent!  I concentrated on a single river, the Derbyshire Derwent, and on a single species, Barbel.

The regular rain certainly helped this Summer, keeping the levels topped up and keeping the barbel feeding confidently.  So many times in the past 4 or 5 seasons, I've heard anglers moaning - on the bank and on the internet - about the low river levels making barbel fishing difficult.  Personally, I never moaned because I still managed to find a good few fish, but I must say that sport was definitely better this season with a bit of extra water and colour in the system.

I've recently published an article on FishingMagic covering the tactics I employed last year and I have an idea for a magazine feature ready for the beginning of the 2013/14 season too, so I won't cover any of that here but all of the fish were caught using large open-end swimfeeders filled with groundbait, mixed pellets and hemp, in conjunction with long mono hooklengths and a mixture of baits.

As usual, my barbel sessions were short, after-work affairs where I started in daylight but fished on into darkness.  I caught a lot of barbel in the 8 to 10lb bracket, with a few going a bit larger.  I was also very pleased to land a pair of smaller fish though.  People I speak to on the bank have shared my concerns over the seeming lack of small barbel in our local rivers.  Regular floods in the Summers surely haven't helped with recruitment, but there does seem to be a distinct lack of fish below 6lb in the Dove, Derwent and Trent.  So, when I had my first barbel double hook-up, I was glad to see a pristine smallish barbel drop into the net.  After a bit of a struggle I also landed the second barbel without letting the first escape!  What a surprise, after landing nothing even close to this size for quite some time, both fish were like peas in a pod!  Two fish of around the 4lb mark which were obviously of the same year class and probably shoal-mates.  They were both fighting fit and after a quick snap which was sadly blurred by a raindrop on the lens, they were quickly returned to hopefully become the next generation of Derwent heavyweights.  You can now read my article - "A Summer of Barbel" - on Fishing Magic.

 

Double hook-up landed!

Here are some of the best shots of a number of 8-10lb barbel that I landed last Summer:

For the first time I took more than three double-figure barbel in a Summer which, considering that I maybe fit in 15 to 18 sessions averaging 4 hours each, I don't think is bad going.  These fish went 10lb 1oz:

10lb 7oz:

10lb 8oz (which I later realised was a recapture of the fish above, 17 days later):

And to top off the lot, I managed to land myself a new PB!  This fish was landed about an hour before the double hook-up above, from the same swim.  Clearly the larger Derwent fish aren't in such an abundance that they only mix with individuals of a similar size and year class, as these fish must surely have been shoaled together to be caught from the same place in such quick succession.  The fish put up an epic scrap, one that I was sure I would lose at several points, which I've described in the FishingMagic article.  The fish weighed 13lb 1oz and added almost 2lb to my personal best.

Other Species

The only brief distraction I had, in terms of other species, was a couple of very short sessions tench fishing.  I chose to fish with the most simple tactics, and used the Lift Method in the margins to land a few hard-fighting tench.

I also used a centrepin reel on a stillwater for the first time and thankfully landed a fish on it too:

I have another article pending about my trips to Brierley Park Pond, where I caught these tench.

That wraps up the highlights of my Summer captures and my intention is to be back in the next few days to summarise my Autumn & Winter fishing so far.

R.I.P. Terry Lampard

Between me starting to write this post and me publishing it, I was saddened to hear of the sudden passing of one of greatest specimen anglers of all time, Terry Lampard. His captures and achievements over the decades speak for themselves and, having never met him, I can't add much that hasn't already been said elsewhere. What I can say is that he was an inspiration to a great many anglers - myself included - and widely revered & respected. Never one to shout his own praises, Terry was understated and humble, possibly even unaware of just how good an angler he was, or of the number of anglers he inspired.

Terry's death is a very sad loss to angling, but his contribution to specimen fishing over a great many years will ensure he will never be forgotten. My thoughts go out to his family and friends.


Ian Welch has written a brief and eloquent Obituary of Terry Lampard on FishingMagic which explains a little about his life and summarises and some of his captures and achievements.

Pike & Grayling Sessions - my last of 2010 and my chance to try out some new gear!

After more than a month of abstinence from fishing, I finally got myself back out on the bank between Christmas and New Year. I had a few new bits of tackle – mainly Christmas presents – to try out too. The first trip was an ill-advised, two hour drive to Boston with Craig and his mate Arran, only for us to find all of the drains were still completely frozen over with a good 3 to 4 inches of ice! After a brief bout of self-deprecation for not calling a local tackle shop to check, a swift re-think was required. We needed to find some flowing water to be guaranteed some ice-free fishing. The nearby Witham was an option, but as none of us had ever really pulled up any trees on there, so we opted to head back as far as Newark and try a stretch of the Trent which none of us had fished before. It was close to a boatyard and seemed a logical place for us to find some lethargic pike seeking food close to shelter. Craig quickly caught a small jack, probably less than a couple of pounds, and that was it as far as action was concerned between the three of us. A big fat blank for me, which was disappointing because I was fishing with a new gear combo of a Shimano Purist Deadbait Classic rod (Christmas present from my very thoughtful better half) and a backbiter alarm which I’d never used before.

I’m pretty sure that once the drains thaw, there will be some very hungry fish just waiting to be caught. The second major freeze-over in a year can’t be bad for the long-term future of the drains, as it will give the pike a rest and will hopefully even have stopped some of the unscrupulous bastards catching and killing fish using illegal deadlines, as the PAC reported on their blog last month here.

My second trip out, on New Years Eve, was thankfully much more successful and enjoyable. My mate Titch (of my Mahseer fishing article fame) had been given some fishing tackle for Christmas and understandably he wanted to test it out at the earliest opportunity. I also had another new piece of kit to try out, a Centrepin reel called the “Ikona”, which at £50 is a real bargain-basement ‘pin, but having never tried using a centrepin before, I didn’t want to spend £200+ on a good one. So, we headed to Matlock Bath on the Derbyshire Derwent for a bit of day ticket fishing. I showed Titch how to set up with a running maggot feeder rig whilst I paired my new 'pin with my 15 foot Fox stick float rod and a medium-sized wire stemmed stick float. We started off fishing in around 6 feet of steady-paced water but nothing here seemed interested in maggots or bread; we didn’t have a bite between us in two hours. A move was in order, so we headed to a couple of swims with fast, deep water on the far margin and a slowly sloping sandy bed heading away from the near bank.

After a few initial problems I had got to grips with trotting with a centrepin and I was really pleased with how the Ikona reel was working. Not being a centrepin connoisseur, I can’t give any in-depth critique, but the bearings seemed to turn extremely easily, the spool ran smooth and true and I really enjoyed using it. I got into the habit of flicking on the spool latch (or “clicker”) with my little finger each time I netted a fish or re-baited my hook, to prevent unwanted spool spinning/bird nests/expletive shouting. From my experience using this reel, I reckon it makes a great introductory reel for newcomers to 'pins and certainly opened my eyes to the joy of participating in the only true art form in coarse fishing.

Almost from the first cast in the new swim my float was dipping with bites I didn’t manage to connect to, then Titch hooked and lost a fish on the feeder. My very next trot through yielded us our first fish of the day in the shape of a grayling of around half a pound. A couple of casts later I landed my second grayling of the day, but this one was only maybe half the size of the first. Titch managed to get through 7 hooklengths and three feeders in the space of about an hour, through various altercations with trees, rocks and fish, but eventually whilst trotting a waggler through, he managed to land his first ever trout. It was a wild brownie and after a few eerie moments around the aforementioned snags, the new rod & reel was christened and Titch was very relieved!

 
Meanwhile, my swim had seemingly come alive.  I landed 4 wild brownies myself and missed plenty of bites.  The thing was, three of the trout were the exact same fish!  It had a small red ulcer on its left side so it was easily recognisable.  I have caught the same fish twice in a session before but never three times!  The second and third captures were within 3 casts of each other so it was getting a little ridiculous.  I decided a switch to feeder tactics would allow me to fish further across the river, away from this greedy, suicidal trout which had staked sole claim on my swim.  Within minutes of casting out the maggot feeder I had a good solid bite and connected with my biggest fish of the day.  I think it was a large trout, but it started swimming quickly upstream towards me and as I guided it towards the net it suddenly turned and bolted, straightening my size 20 barbless hook, so there’s also a chance it was a small barbel.  I’ll never know.  Another small grayling came from this swim before I decided we’d had the best of it and we moved further upstream to some of my favourite pegs.

Titch was into the action straight away and it wasn’t long before a couple of young, wild spotties had been caught and released and also his first ever grayling so he was now a very happy man.  I caught a couple of small trout but it was grayling I was really after.  I remembered having joy with bread on this peg a couple of years ago, so I pinched as big a piece as I dare around a size 20 and swung out the rig.  Any bites I’d been getting from trout had been coming early on in the trot and the float passed this area without any sign of interest; as it neared the end of the trot, my float gently disappeared.  I struck and instantly knew I had a good fish attached.  It was the first time I’d actually needed to play a fish with the centrepin and I now see the appeal of it.  Extremely direct, with no drag to help me out, it really was heart-in-mouth stuff.  Again, I assumed this fish was a good trout but as it surfaced halfway out, I saw it was actually a decent chub.  Thankfully the hook held and I netted what was a very battered old chevin, with a strange sky-blue hue to its body, a bulging-out eye, a rotted anal fin and a fairly fresh mouth wound, presumably from a previous hook tearing out.  I treated this and set the fish up for a photograph alongside my centrepin before returning it as quickly as possible.  I didn’t weigh the fish but it was a chunky old chap which I think would weigh around 3lb 12oz.  It was also the first chub I’ve ever caught from this stretch, though I’ve always known it held a few.  All in all, a pleasant end - to a day of education for both Titch and myself - and of course, to 2010.  the only disappointment of the day was that I still had a Christmas present I hadn't tried out - a Zippo hand warmer - but better to have it and not need it than vice versa!  Happy new year everyone and tight lines for 2011.