Damn wet in the valley

The trouble with this big river fishing is its bloody addictive and at a time of year I’d usually have Pike and only Pike on my mind, I managed to convince the Princess she wanted to spend a few days out west once more.  It’s too late in the year for camping so we booked a cosy chalet and set off.  As usual we planned to spend time exploring the area and enjoying long pub lunches then I’d head off to the river for a bit of fishing.  We had an easy drive apart from the rain which battered us for the last hour but things had brightened up by the time we reached the valley and we settled into the digs and chilled out.  After going out for a pint and a steak (it was still raining but this didn’t really register…) we returned and I sorted my kit out for the following day, everything was set.

The following morning I looked out of the kitchen window and had a shock, the brook had burst its banks and what is normally the campsite now looked like a brown lake.  I checked the levels, three metres up and rising, the river had come up over a metre since the previous evening.  Still I set off undaunted, Barbel like these conditions don’t they?  I’d be sure to find somewhere to fish even if I had to do things a little different.  A flooded road meant a slightly longer journey but I was squelching through a soggy field by 0930, then I came to the river which was a foreboding sight.  The water was at the very top of the banks, a good ten feet above the level when I’d last visited this stretch, swims I’d previously fished were completely underwater.  The river was a torrent carrying all kinds of debris including what looked like whole trees, this was way beyond my angling experience.  I only felt able to fish fairly close in as the main river was scary and after a good look around found myself a spot to fish, a large eddy between two semi submerged trees. 

I foolishly started off with feeder rigs but the swirling current kept shifting these and after losing a couple in snags I switched to moulding groundbait around the lead.  Not that this made much difference as what is normally bankside vegetation had become tough snags and things were becoming farcical.  I moved upstream to a spot I’d fished before and here I was able to fish without too much trouble but I had to admit I was out of my depth in every sense.  I’m sure it’s possible to catch in these conditions but that would require far better knowledge of the river than I’ve been able to build up thus far.  I told myself I was gaining experience and when I returned to the water I’d be better equipped to give it a good go.  I packed up in the early afternoon by which time the river was over the bank and filling the field behind me.  A half day had been the plan all along as we were off to meet my nephew and his girlfriend for dinner in the evening and a great time was had by all!

The next couple of days were frustrating on the fishy front as the river continued to rise, peaking at 4.85 metres above the normal level.  The fields beside the main road were under water so I didn’t bother to try and find the river thinking I’d have time before we had to leave.  Just when things were going in the right direction the river rose again, then surely Sunday’s storm would wipe out all my chances?  Maybe not, by the evening the river was dropping again and it looked like I’d get one more chance.

The following morning I returned to the same stretch again, the water had dropped six feet or so and was a lot more friendly looking but was still a formidable beast. I walked past my previous starting swim to find there was a third bush which had been completely submerged before, no wonder I was snagging!  I started around 1100 in the swim where I’d ended up the previous trip.  I fished either groundbait squeezed on the lead or PVA bags of pellets and hemp, hookbaits were mostly pepperami or boilies wrapped in paste.  The day was dull and mild with barely a breath of wind and I found the river much more manageable with considerably less water in it.  I started with confidence and felt I was fishing effectively but despite sitting it out here until the early afternoon no fish proved my assessment right.

What do I do?  Should I move or should I pile a load of bait in and hope to tempt some fish into the swim?  Usually I’d go with the latter option but I’ve gradually realised that this rarely works.  If there were fish about surely I’d see a sign?  I wound in and went for a wander and liked the look of the next fishable spot upstream which had shady bushes either side and I was soon settled in again. 

Here things improved, no snags and after forty five minutes or so I had a fast chub rattle which had me half out of the chair and boosted the confidence but nothing further developed, at least by now the sun had come out.  After two hours in this spot I realised that if I was going to move again today it would have to be soon and after convincing myself for a second time that it was the right thing to do off I wandered downstream.

The trouble was nowhere I could get to the river looked anything like as promising as the two spots I’d already fished so I ended up opting for the snaggy eddy I’d fished on the first day.  Out went the rods again and I sat back with little confidence but happy to enjoy the pleasant weather, the sounds of the birds singing and the river rippling.  Throughout the day I saw many birds that were too quick or too small to identify but I recognised Kingfishers, Great Tits, Long tailed tits, Bullfinches, Buzzards and maybe a Kite?  I’d only been fishing for fifteen minutes or so when bugger me the tip banged over and I actually hooked a fish!  Thankfully it didn’t want to fight and I soon had a nice Chub in the net and I was well happy as it’s a long way to come to blank!  Twenty minutes later the other rod banged and I was into a second fish which had a bit of weight but this one didn’t want to fight either.  Another good Chub went in the net and this one required the scales.  I’d barely got settled again before a third proper bite produced another Chub, the smallest of the three but still very welcome!

By now the light was fading, Tawney Owls were waking up amongst the trees and I chucked in the last of my groundbait hoping the dusk period might produce more fish and hopefully a Barbel?  Unfortunately despite fishing into darkness the opposite happened, there were no more banging rod tips but I was privileged to watch a Barn Owl fly across the river to within a few yards of me where it swerved nonchalantly and followed the near bank upstream.

So that was that, I’d headed west with high hopes but all my plans were thrown up in the air when I was confronted with a river that was way beyond my fishy experience.  I’d made the mistake of just assuming the river would be within its banks and I’d be able to find some fish and have learned the hard way that you can’t take these proper rivers for granted.  

Just once more

I’ve got plenty of fishy plans for the coming weeks but on Saturday afternoon I found myself home alone so figured I might as well go fishing, the question was where?  I hadn’t fished in the sea for a month and hadn’t planned to head east again this autumn but with high tide due around 1900 if fit the time slot perfectly.  So I put some gear together, rummaged in the freezer for bait and off I went.

I ended up at the Steep beach, somewhere I hadn’t fished all season and today it was purely because the fresh south westerly would be blowing over my shoulder, making the threatened heavy showers more manageable.  I usually avoid this area because it is so popular but tonight there were only a couple of anglers away to the north and a group about half a mile to the south.  I set up pretty much bang on where I’d planned, my thinking for this being it was the least taxing walk, if not the shortest.  For once I got the shelter set up first and made sure my camp was comfortable before getting the rods out.  Tonight I had pulley rigs on both with a whole squid on the heavy rod and smaller squid or strips of mackerel on the lighter rod.  I was fishing by 1515 and just got everything shipshape before the rain came and the dark skies promised it would be here for a while.  The shelter was already rustling in the wind and this was joined by the splatter of rain, add the waves smashing the shingle and there was quite a racket but sea fishing is rarely quiet in that sense.

Over an hour past, I’d recast both rods a couple of times but the baits were hardly touched so I was happy to leave them out longer than normal and so avoid the rain.  But these casts can’t last forever and I wound in the light rod for the third time after ninety minutes or so to find a Whiting attached to a lump of mackerel.  It’s about this time of year that these things can become a nuisance and I hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely like a bite.  Inland the sky looked a dark and threatening shade of grey but offshore I could see blue sky, it seemed the rain was hugging the land today.  It was another hour before the rain had passed, leaving spectacular skies in its wake but no more fish hung themselves in this time.  The wind had dropped and the evening felt warmer, the light was beginning to fade now and high tide was approaching so I was confident of catching a fish or two, maybe a Ray if I was lucky.

At 1755, an hour before high tide I saw some fishy movement on the heavy rod, was that a bite?  Maybe not…  But when I wound in a few minutes later the Pennell was tied in knots.  Over the next few minutes I kept thinking I was seeing something fishy on the tip but lets be honest, most of the time we don’t think, we know.  At 1820 I knew, the heavy rod banged over then fell slack and I was on my feet winding down as quick as I could, that had to be a fish?  Yes!  There was a decent weight on the end and whatever it was didn’t want to visit the beach, I suspected a small Ray so was pleasantly surprised when I dragged a good sized Bass up the beach!  A result that made braving the rain worthwhile.

The next casts saw the tip lights attached and as the light fell quickly the torch strapped to my head.  Shortly after getting the heavy rod out again the tip started rattling, I expected it to bang over again but this didn’t happen and when I wound in I found the Pennell in another tangle, whether this was down to fish or crustaceans I don’t know.  In the approach to high tide another hard shower swept in and this was uncomfortable for a while but thankfully soon cleared and as the clouds travelled northward I could see flashes of lightning.  But this was the only moving light show I did see as the tip lights weren’t moving in any kind of fishy fashion.  Despite this I was catching Whiting regularly, I couldn’t see the bites but I was winding one in on every cast, no matter how big my baits were.  After an hour of this I’d had enough, I didn’t think my baits were unmolested for long enough for a serious fish to find them so I packed up.  Both rods had Whiting attached when I wound them in for the last time.  It had been an enjoyable few hours but that will certainly be my last casts in the sea this year.

Being there

Most of the fishing I do nowadays could be termed convenient, I don’t travel too far, don’t take much gear with me and fish in a relatively simple way.  But the autumn is different, it’s the best time of the year so I go all in, push out of the comfort zone and make a big effort.  Over the next few weeks this will become the normal then by the end of October I’ll be knackered and sanity will prevail once more.  Before all that I had time for a couple of short trips on the other river.

Another midweek day off and I’ve been really enjoying the feeder fishing on the Other river so why not give it another go?  We’d had a wet night and the rain carried on into the morning so I didn’t hurry out so it was 0950 before I got to the river.  By this time the clouds were breaking up and the sun was trying to squeeze through, the river looked okay, a bit of pace but clearer than I expected.  I’ve now fished two promising swims on this stretch and would feel confident in either, do I go upstream or down?  Last time I’d gone up so today I walked down and quietly set up just above the Squirrel’s bridge and this saw plenty of traffic during the day. 

I’d mixed some groundbait and had half a pint of maggots and planned to switch between two feeders during the day.  I started off with an open end feeder and corn on a size 14 hoping for an early Chub that I hadn’t managed to spook.  After half an hour I switched to a maggot feeder with three wriggling on a size 16, this brought literally a bite a chuck from a variety of species; four more Gudgeon and they’re getting bigger! Perch to 8ozs, Chublets, Bleak, Roach and a Minnow!  Probably the first I’ve caught this century.  When I fancied a break I’d switch back to the open end feeder with a couple of grains of corn on the bigger hook and a break I certainly got with just taps and plucks on the bigger bait.  A switch back to maggots and the action started up again and all this time I was drip feeding the swim, hoping something a bit bigger would be tempted upstream.

Late in the session a tapping tip suddenly pulled round and I’d hooked something substantial that was pulling back, a good fish that felt very Perch-like and looked it when I got a brief glimpse.  Then the line fell slack and I wound in a tiny chublet that was battered and very dead.  I enjoy fishing with maggots on a river like this, it’s fun as you can catch literally anything but it is distracting.  When they’d all gone I switched back to corn and the bites dried up again but I felt this was how I really should have been fishing.  I started to pack up about 1500 and was wondering what else I could put away that would delay finally winding in when the tip yanked round.  I decent fish pulled the tip over as it tried to head towards the tree but I didn’t give an inch so it was forced to circle in the pool.  After that it was easy to lead a decent Chub upstream above the net and let it drop back in.  A nice fish of three pounds or so and it would have been the perfect ending but of course I had to have one last cast.

A few days before the madness commences, a Saturday with a few hours to kill, I had a sudden urge to go back to the river but this time with a lure rod, some Pike sized lures and minimal tackle.  I went to a different stretch today, here it is slower and a bit deeper and looks the part.  The afternoon was sunny and bright but the north westerly kept the temperature down to something even the Pike police would approve of.  The river was up a bit with a dark stain and this stretch had more flow than normal. To me it looked pretty good.

I started at the upstream end of the stretch with a shad and worked my way down, moving fairly quickly as on these small rivers I feel I can cover the water in front of me in three or four casts.  I started off with optimism but this ebbed away as the river seemed lifeless but halfway along the stretch I noticed a bow wave, had my lure had awakened something?  A couple of casts later I had my answer, a fish grabbed the shad and tried to do battle but didn’t have the size to resist for long.  I pulled a small Pike into the margin and grabbed the trace, the fish shook its head and released itself, job done.

I carried on downstream, switching different coloured shads but whatever I tried failed to raise any interest.  I stopped for a brew and surveyed a likely looking bend that had deep water and cover, it looked spot on but I couldn’t raise any interest today.  After that I clipped on a Slider and made my way back upstream at a bit quicker pace, a few casts here and there but had no more interest before mine ran out.

After this I had a trip to Norfolk on a day which started with fresh winds and drizzle but then got steadily worse.  A sane person would have put the cuddy up and sheltered but I kept moving and managed to find a few fish to get the season underway.

Friday 4^th October, Giles, Rich and I loaded the motor then head off westwards again to say goodbye to a friend.  The musical menu was curated by Rich and included selections our friend would have enjoyed alongside us, all of us wore a Tee shirt featuring a beloved band, a theme for what was to come.  It was a long journey but we just had to be there.  We got into town a couple of hours early and the only thing to do was go to a pub.  The local pale was good and could have flowed freely but I’m older now and if not wise I have learned from experience.  At the chapel there were a few familiar faces including Steve and Dave, the service was musical and moving, red eyes and choked throats but we recognised that many others were hurting more than we were.  We said goodbye to Rob and only now we begin to realise how much we are going to miss him.

As we were three quarters of the way there we carried on to the valley for a couple of days but it didn’t feel so happy this time around.  The first day was a stretch further upstream than we’d fished so far.  The river was up and access was tricky but there were enough swims for the three of us to have options but I didn’t make the most of mine.  Wherever I tried all I managed was fast Chub bites that I never could have connected with.  I considered scaling down and sticking a couple of bits of corn straight onto a hook but ended up sticking it out with pellets and meat for Barbel and blanked.  Giles had a decent Chub and Rich had a handful.  Still the stretch was pleasant as was the weather although my mood stayed gloomy.

The following day was dull, damp and dark but we were on familiar water having fished here from the opposite bank in September.  Today we arrived with confidence having caught fish here in the recent past but there were five anglers on that opposite bank!  I started off way downstream in a spot I’d fished in 2022, here the fast Chub bites followed me.  Really I should have stuck at it and caught a fish or two from this swim but an angler somewhere on the opposite bank was playing Radio 1 too loud and I could only stand it for ninety minutes or so.

After this I humped my gear all the way to the upstream end of the beat, fishing as close to the successful September swim as I could.  Here I had a proper bite on the first drop and managed to land a Chub of about three and a half.  I fished with confidence for a couple of hours but all I had there after was the lightning fast chub rattles.  We suffered a couple of hours of rain despite which I moved a couple of times but didn’t find any more fish.  Rich made better swim choices and managed a Chub and our only Barbel of the trip but today Giles didn’t trouble the scorers.  A surreal weekend came to an end, we loaded the car and drove home through the night.