Escaping...

With the festival of greed looming, I expect the world to go mad so the best response to this is to take a few days holiday and leave work behind.  This allows me to either escape into the calm of the countryside or to stay in and lock the door on all the bullshit.  Having a bit of time also enabled me to choose on which days I fished so when things were uncomfortable I could retreat to my cave and resemble the Grinch.

The river had risen over a foot in twenty four hours and was still going up.  I prefer clearer water when I’m wandering with deadbaits and I didn’t want to wait it out behind buzzers so I decided to have a go for Chub for a change.  I started off with a good walk upstream and settled in opposite an overhanging tree.  I haven’t Chub fished this stretch yet so the plan today was to spend about half an hour in each spot, similar to when I’m piking.  Given the conditions I went for a smelly bait and not being arsed about secret cheese paste recipes I went for a ¾ inch chunk of meat hair rigged on a size 8.  I mainly used a small feeder with a smelly, hempy mix but switched to a lead with a PVA bag of hemp in some places.  The morning was mostly cloudy but a fresh south westerly kept the clouds on the move allowing the sun poked through from time to time.  The water was almost overflowing but not as coloured as I expected although I soon found out there was plenty of crap being carried downstream.

The first and second spots were uneventful and I nearly walked past the third swim but couldn’t resist dropping the feeder just upstream of a nearside snag.  After a few minutes here the tip started to tap a little before eventually bending round properly and I found myself attached to a fish which took some persuading to move upstream of the snag.  Once I’d done this it managed to dive into the almost submerged reeds in front of me but strong tackle and steady pressure soon had it out and in the net.  I’m rubbish at guestimating the weights of most species and I reckoned this fish would be about three and a half pounds.  A check with the scales told me I was overestimating, the Chub was not quite three pounds but I was happy to catch one on my first go at this stretch.

The next cast brought another rattle and tap which had me poised on the edge of the chair but nothing developed.  I sat it out here for a while, had a bite to eat and a brew but nothing else happened and after half an hour I was on the move again.  Every stretch of this river has very many spots that look like they might hold a fish or two and this is no exception.  As midday neared the wind had broken up the clouds and the sky was mostly clear and bright.  I moved regularly, dropping in here and there for half an hour or so.  The amount of leaves and other rubbish being carried downstream made things difficult so I was mostly looking for near bank features.  If I cast across the river I clipped on a lead and pointed the rod tip high but whatever I tried I didn’t get any more bites and called it a day in the early afternoon.

One good thing about the East Anglian rivers is most fine down quickly, here in the flatlands getting that extra water out to sea quickly is crucial.  The river gauges gave me the news I wanted to see, so my next trip was for Pike.  I left the house a reasonably early hour and had to scrape the windscreen, as usual the A roads were like wacky races and held me up even more than normal.  I left the car in a different car park then took a long walk through morning mist and uncomfortable terrain, eventually ending up at a spot I’d had a couple of fish from in the past.  It was 0820 before I swung a sardine upstream then a smelt across to the far side, the sun was starting to burn off the haze and the morning was gorgeous.

Twenty minutes passed quickly, I expected something to happen in this spot but so far it hadn’t and it was getting near time to tidy up for a move.  I didn’t get that far, the upstream float stabbed then started to slowly move away.  I set the hook but the bend didn’t stay in the rod and I soon had a fish of five pounds or so in the net.  For the next hour I slowly progressed along the bank in an upstream direction but there were so many likely looking spots to drop a bait in, I couldn’t cover ground quickly.  At 0945 the sardine was on the move again, this was a better fish so once netted I got the scales ready but when I lifted it onto the mat it seemed to shrink.  I weighed it anyway to help me get my eye in for the future, not quite eight and a half pounds and a gorgeous looking fish.  By this time the day had clouded over after an hour of bright sunshine which at least meant I wouldn’t be casting a shadow on the water.

My next move brought a take on smelt but this was dropped and I ended up staying here too long hoping the culprit would come back, which it didn’t.  By 1130 I’d gone over an hour without any action but I’d just settled into a promising looking swim that I’d managed to walk past on previous visits.  Downstream of me was a long, treelined bend with steep unfishable banks whilst upstream was yet another shady overhanging tree.  After twenty five minutes the sardine I’d cast downstream started coming towards me, I wound up the slack hoping to soon get an angle on the fish to give me a chance to make a confident strike.  This never happened and the bait was dropped before I ever made contact.  There was a fish about and hopefully one that hadn’t been spooked so the sardine was swung out again and I repositioned the smelt to the far side, just down and across from where I was sitting.  It was this rod that was away next although when I say ‘away’ what I mean on this occasion is the float slowly bobbed and wobbled its way upstream.  This time I did make contact, the fish did little bar plod up and down so it was a nice surprise to pull quite a long fish over the net.  Another lovely marked Pike that was my first double from this particular stretch.  I’d barely slipped this back and I hadn’t yet recast when I heard the fizz of a baitrunner, the best sound in fishing.  I set the hooks quickly and my fourth fish of the day was the smallest.

Maybe I should have stayed in this spot for longer in hindsight but I was determined to keep moving, it was still slow going as every twenty yards or so I found a future that looked just right for a fish.  At 1310 I had another take on a sardine that was fished up against a raft of debris.  The float was heading rapidly towards a snag so I wound in quickly and put a bend in the rod.  The fish turned and ran back downstream so it was hard to judge what kind of weight was on the end.  As it moved alongside me the hooks came out and now I’ll never know.

I kept on moving, trying a couple more likely looking spots but didn’t move any more fish and by 1500 I was out of puff.  I really enjoy this mobile fishing, every new move brings an air of expectancy but it does tire me out, especially on a day when I’d left my food at home.  Today I’d only seen two other humans which always pleases me and I’d seen loads of wildlife including squirrels and rabbits first thing in the morning as well as all manner of birds including a Red Kite and a flock of Long tailed tits which kept me company for a while.  It was a slow walk back to the car then a slow drive home as the roads were even more rammo than they’d been in the morning.

With my time off running out the weather became favourable for a trip to Norfolk and I couldn’t resist.  The day was mild and bright with a south westerly that was a good deal stronger then was forecast.  At this time of year I fish hard, hoping for just once chance, the result of which could be literally anything.  Today my one chance came on a drifted herring but it wasn’t the monster of my dreams but these days any Pike is a result.

Then the following day a window of opportunity opened up, back to the river?  Why not.  The level had risen a couple of feet overnight so the Chub gear was hastily organised.  Whilst piking the other day I couldn’t help noticing several very chubby looking swims so I head back to the same stretch.  By the time I got to the water the morning mist had burned off leaving a bright, clear day with barely a breath of wind.  In the conditions I made sure I stayed way back from the edge as much as possible to avoid my shadow falling on the water.  I fished with the same methods as last time, a lump of meat on a running feeder rig and made my first cast around 1130.  What I’d failed to consider was the stretch was very different with the extra water and the swims I’d fancied before didn’t look as fishy today.  Still I gave it ago, dropping in quietly above a fishy feature and fishing for twenty minutes or so before moving on to the next.  Five swims and three hours later I hadn’t had a bite so jacked it in and head for home.  Now the door is closed and the gate is bolted for the festive onslaught but I expect I’ll sneak out again when the coast is clear, before the end of the year.