Rivers run

I’d always planned to have a go for Chub this winter but have been thoroughly enjoying the Pike fishing so never got around to it but with time running out I was suddenly inspired.  After a rummage in the shed I put together some bits and pieces, a few slices of bread and some worms from the compost, loaded up and head for the river.  By 0945 I was settled into a swim I’d caught plenty of autumn fish from, this was the upstream end of a row of nice far bank overhangs.  The plan was to gradually move downstream searching the likely looking chubby holes as I went.  I fished a small feeder on a running rig then a two foot hooklength with a size 10 hook.  I had a little oily groundbait which I mixed with some brown crumb just to put some smell in the water, hookbait was mostly flake but I occasionally tried a worm.  The day was cooler than of late with a north westerly wind blowing clouds in front of the sun.

Three swims and three hours later I hadn’t had a bite and I’d covered less water than I hoped.  I was tempted to head for home but there were a couple more fishable swims and one of them I liked the look of.  When I returned with my gear I had a look at next downstream spot and for some reason this felt right so I quietly settled here instead and from the first cast there were signs of fish about.  This started off as plucks and twitches on the tip followed by good fast bangs that a proper Chub angler would probably have hooked but I was about a week late.  Then a proper pull round Barbel style three foot twitch that I also failed to connect with, when I wound in the hook had gone.  I couldn’t remember the breaking strain of any of the hooklengths I’d tied but they looked too fine so I tied up another with eight pounds mono.  Soon the flake was back in the spot but of course that had killed the swim.

I passed another hour dropping the feeder into different parts of the swim hoping my luck would change…  Meanwhile a bit of light rain was blowing in now and again and it was beginning to feel chilly, I was starting to think I’d had enough for the day.  Then a twitchy movement on the tip had me striking thin air but boosted my confidence.  I looked at my watch and realised I’d have to be on the road soon so frisbeed the last of the bread down river then added on last lump of flake to the hook, this would definitely be my last cast.  Would you believe it for once it happened, I had a good firm bite, set the hook and steered a writhing Chub away from the snags and into the net.  It was only a couple of pounds or so but punched above its weight and I was pleased to see it.  Then I packed up and went home.

 

Either side of this I made a couple of trips to Norfolk where its always inconsistent at this time of year.  There have been three or four occasions where things have gone spectacularly in March but more often than not I find myself chasing ghosts as was the case on my most recent visits.  Conditions were pretty good and it was pleasant weather to be sat in a boat, I worked hard, moved regularly and covered loads of water but just managed a single jack on each visit.  Even after all these years there’s still stuff to learn and every season I catch Pike from somewhere I’ve never fished before.  I’m not done yet!