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.