Under the Squirrel's bridge

Another week crawled by but the fish shaped light at the end of the cliché got bigger and Saturday came with a late tide and a forecast that looked promising.  Bloody football started again, no dream start for the Blues but never mind. I left home in the early evening and found my way obstructed by a closed road and weekend drivers.  The car park was busy but I found a space and after the hike found the beach much quieter than I’d expected given the weather which was clear, hot and still. The tide was an hour into the flood and looked pretty flat, the waves just folding gently onto the sand.

Tonight I was trying to catch Rays so the regular squid on a pulley was launched and I stuck with a running leger on the light rod, a long hooklength baited with strips of mackerel to begin with although this changed to bits of squid after a couple of casts.  I thought I might have a chance of a Bass or two early on and as things have been going more or less to plan in recent weeks, I was confident.  After an hour the heavy rod bent and bounced, a proper bite indeed and to begin with I thought I’d missed it but as I gained line I felt weight, there was good resistance and a fish boiling in the shallows.  I wondered if it was a Hound but no I dragged a good sized Bass onto the beach.  I was unaware I had an audience but when I picked the fish up a couple of day trippers were very excited.  Normally I’d have taken a quick snap but after showing off the fish and answering all the normal questions I just slipped it back. 

Shortly after this I had another rattle on the light rod but this didn’t develop.  So it looked like my confidence was justified and I looked forward to what the rising tide would bring, surely a Ray was on the cards?  After a couple of hours I changed the leger rig for another pulley with slightly bigger squid and crab baits, in theory going all out for Rays and I felt it was just a matter of time…  I talk about the pulley rig every time so here’s a picture of one loaded with a whole squid on a 2/0 Pennell and ready to cast.

But tonight it just didn’t happen, the Rays didn’t show up.  Everything had looked and felt right this evening but I had just one more half hearted rattle on the light rod around dusk and that was it.  I packed up just after high tide scratching my head again.  Still it had been lovely sitting there on a deserted, moonlit beach on a pleasant summer evening.

Seven straight shifts then my next days off are mid week which is fine as I always prefer quieter waters.  I looked at the tide times and couldn’t make anything work that didn’t involve either an early start or a too late finish.  I considered trying one of the estuaries with a lure rod but this didn’t motivate me so freshwater it would have to be.  There’s one stretch on the ‘other river’ that I had yet to fish so decided that would have to be put right.  The sensible thing to do would be to travel light with either a lure rod or a float set up, that way I’d cover more water and learn along the way.  But could I be arsed?  I struggled to find any enthusiasm.

By the time I got up I’d made up my mind, I’d fish this ‘new’ stretch but not fish either of the roving methods.  What I wanted to do was sit on my arse staring at a rod tip and try not to do anything strenuous but as I was fishing blind I packed a float rod just in case.  I had a lazy breakfast then slowly got some kit together and by the time I left home the morning rush was just about over but with so many trucks coming in and out of the east coast ports our roads are always moving slowly.  I reached the river around 1100, put a rucksack on my back and had a bundle of rods in one hand and my chair in the other. 

After getting lost in the woods I eventually found my way to the river and immediately liked what I saw.  Here the river was shallower and had more pace flowing over gravel, with patches of weed here and there.  But the top of the stretch was open with no bankside cover or chubby looking snags so I kept walking slowly downstream past water that was mostly shallow with a wandering deeper gulley.  Then I came to the perfect swim.  A fallen tree was propped up on the far bank but branches trailed into the river, here a nice green raft had formed and leading up to this the bottom dropped away to become slightly deeper.  What’s more there were Chub here too, a couple of good sized fish held station in front of the raft but by the time I’d noticed them they’d already noticed me, I watched them turn and disappear beneath the cover.

Should I keep walking downstream?  To keep pushing through an overgrown path would only cause more disturbance so having found what I was looking for I unloaded the gear and got myself set up and in position as quietly as possible.  I hoped that if I could be patient and quiet, keep trickling feed into the swim and maybe the fish I’d seen might regain confidence and come back?  By 1120 I was settled and fishing an open end feeder on a simple running rig, inside the feeder was a mix of Van den Eynde Special with a load of crushed hemp chucked in to keep the bait bubbling.  I used a hooklength of about two feet, six pound mono with a size 12 hook onto which I carefully hooked a large grain of corn.

I had rattles and taps from the word go and struck at a couple of these so recast regularly, under arming the feeder to land on gravel just short of the raft.  I also threw a few grains of corn into the faster current every few minutes but after an hour I’d seen no sign of the Chub and was starting to get impatient.  Ten minutes later I could stand it no more so wound the rod in and took a wander further downstream but after pushing through another hundred yards of nettles I hadn’t found anything that looked better than where I was sat.  Returning to the swim I peered over the undergrowth and could see plenty of small fish moving over the gravel but there was also something Chub shaped that was certainly big enough to get my bait in its gob.  I swung the feeder out again with renewed confidence.

The walk had been worth it just to settle my mind, the water in front of me was the fishiest looking area I’d seen and what’s more tall trees on both banks kept me shaded all day.  The fallen tree provided an easy bridge for a fearless Squirrel to cross the river, surely too gig for the Sparrowhawk that zipped past soon after?  Then the tip went round, a proper bite and what’s more I had a fish attached.  There wasn’t much weight but the fish was certainly spirited, charging around and at one point trying to go ariel.  It was a funny coloured Chub that might have measles…  No it’s a bloody Trout!  Not only that a Brownie, my first ever!  I know many rivers have these things but few here in the east and I honestly don’t know if this was a real wild one or if it had escaped from somewhere (though I can’t think where?)  This wasn’t what I’d set out to catch but honestly I was chuffed as nuts to have caught something new.

I figured the swim would be well and truly disturbed now but was happy to keep dropping the feeder into the river and sit staring at the tip with a contented smile.  Then about half an hour later I had another proper bite and this time hit into something with a bit of weight that was determined to get under the raft.  Strong tackle and a nicely bent rod done the trick and once the initial rush had passed, I pulled the fish easily upstream and got it into the net without too much fuss.  This was what I’d come for, a Chub and by my standards a big one.  The scales confirmed it was actually my best from my home county and the biggest I’ve managed to catch by design.  This fish was deeper and chunkier than the ones I’ve caught out west and was a beautifully coloured creature.

I sat back with a grin, my first proper Chub from the ‘other river’ and it was exactly the kind of fish that had led me to try my luck here in the first place.  It isn’t quite ‘mission accomplished’ as I know there is a chance of something a little bigger and plenty of water to keep trying.  Earlier today I’d seen two good sized Chub so that meant there must still be one out there? I fished on for a couple more hours receiving rattles on most casts but no more proper bites.  I did catch one more Chub which was just about big enough to get a size 8 and a lump of flake in its mouth but that was my lot.  I left the river in mid afternoon and head home before the evening traffic seized things up.  I don’t know what I expected when I left home this morning but it certainly wasn’t that!

The weekend arrived and with it unfriendly weather, the cloudy skies made a nice change but the fresh easterly meant all the beaches would be uncomfortable.  To fish or not to fish?  Had I been on my own I’d probably have gone back to the ‘other river’ but Giles was keen to look at the sea and I let him talk me into it.  It wasn’t weather where we could expect to catch rays, so effectively we were fishing for Bass, ragworm a must.  The trip was nearly called off for a second time because we couldn’t get any rag but Giles managed to come up with some in the nick of time.

So we head eastward in the mid afternoon listening to sport on the radio, England dominating the Test match and Town got a 1-1 draw.  We arrived at the beach to find big waves rolling in from a distance and smashing into the shore, at this point we should have turned around and found ourselves a sheltered spot in one of the estuaries but we carried on regardless.  We’ve not faced with these kind of conditions too often but “they” say this is proper Bass weather so we gave it a go.  I’m beginning to wonder if this ‘Bass weather’ thing is a myth just like the cold and frosty weather for Pike legend.

We persevered and Giles was rewarded with a couple of fish, a Bass and an Eel but with all the movement on my rod tips, from wind and tide I couldn’t tell what was going on.  I may have had a couple of bites through the night, I probably did but I was relying on the fish to hang themselves because it was impossible to tell.  Still we fished the tide all the way up and I enjoyed sitting in the breeze with the roar and crash of waves, it was relaxing but it definitely wasn’t quiet.  Was it worth it?  Yes, if only in the hope I’ll remember this the next time I’m faced with this kind of weather and make a more sensible decision.