Slow Progress

Denis and I have stuck at the rivers determined to find some good fish. It would be easy to get the boat out on the big lake and fish productive areas where we could be sure of latching into some doubles and the odd twenty but that's not what we do. It's easy to stagnate when you find good fishing, milking it for all it's worth and ignoring everything else but then what do you have for the future? ...and what do you have when your good fishing comes to an end?

The other approach of course, the one which many many people take, is to keep an ear to the grapevine and jump in on the going water. Hmm, not much attraction there. So we keep plugging away at likely looking stretches of river until something happens.

Two trips out this week. We had a couple of days on the new river, finding out more and more about it, and a day on the Severn. The new river produced a few fish, a low double to Denis on day one and two doubles to me on day two. We fished two different stretches some fifteen miles apart and found them to be quite different in character. The day one stretch was quite fast with only odd places where a pike might hang out. It poured with rain for most of the day and despite our waterproofs it started to get in.

Day two was a much brighter prospect with clear skies and some sunshine but of course there was always the threat of rising water which we knew would put the fish off. I settled into a swim at first light and had half an hour's lure fishing before dropping a deadbait in. The lures produced nothing despite covering a fish on the far bank which appeared to be rushing a shoal of dace from time to time but it was a different story on the deadbaits.

I packed away the lure rod and dropped in a legered sardine around five yards from the bank. Just five minutes later it was away and I pulled in a hard fighting fish of around thirteen pounds. Unhooked and a quick pic. before putting it back then I put out a second sardine. Once again this was taken within five minutes and I pulled in a fish of similar size. Indeed I'm quite sure it was the same pike once again since it didn't fight at all, probably still tired from the last fight.

The day ticked by and no more fish came our way despite fishing many different swims. It's becoming noticeable even this early that the fish in this river feed early but then don't seem to show later in the day. We'll be back there in the coming weeks I have no doubt.

Later in the week we had a trip to the Severn, to the same stretch where I fell in last week, though not to the same swim. This part of the river is baffling. There are two text book swims which look like they should hold some good pike but so far all we've had is jacks and so it proved on this occasion. I had all the fish, one on a lure and two on deadbaits but the largest would only have weighed seven pounds or so. I expect we'll stick at it for a while yet as there is sure to be something better but it had better put in an appearance soon!

Mermaid Award

I've been boat fishing for pike for more than thirty five years now. Safety is obviously very important when you're out in a boat and I never, ever go out without my lifejacket on. Now I've never fallen in from my boat so I've never had to put that lifejacket to the test. We never wear a lifejacket when we're bank fishing though do we?

Denis and I went back to the stretch of river I fished last time. I was the driver but we were forced to split up as each of the areas that looked worth fishing only really had enough room for one person to fish. Our plan was to fish from dawn until noon and then move on to another area, staying in touch by phone in case we wanted to change that plan or in case either of us wanted to stay put.

I dropped Denis off close to the feild with a bull in it and drove off to the place where there's a steep climb. Tackle on my back, I scrambled down the greasy slope and was soon set up with two baits in the water. Before long I gave Denis a ring to check that he'd found the swim I'd directed him to and hadn't been gored by the bull and I was surprised to hear that he'd already had two pike. They weren't big fish but they were at least fish.

Time passed slowly and I was starting to nod off when I heard a rustle behind me. It was the bailiff for the stretch and after checking my licence he stayed a chatted for a while. It seemed that the swim I was in was a bit hit and miss, often devoid of pike but that the swim I'd sent Denis to was reliable and held some big ones.

The bailiff left and I called Denis again, he'd had another pike and he was happy to stay there for the rest of the day, I'd made the wrong choice it seemed. Twelve o'clock came and I decided to move on, there was another good looking swim on the stretch just by the bridge and I decided to try there. This was only a short walk from one of the car parks which was nice but the banks were difficult, steep, overgrown and very slippery.

I set up and cast in my two rods. Nothing happened and after a while I stood up for a recast. It was difficult to tell where the riverbank ended and the river began because of the thick vegetation but by the time I realised my mistake it was too late and I was falling into the ten foot deep icy water. I managed to grab the long grass as I went down and clung on as I felt the cold fill my boots and start to climb up my legs. I was in up to my waist but the goretex bib and brace was being surprisingly resistant and the water was slow to fill it up. I heaved at the grass with both hands and luckily my foot found a purchase on something and I hoisted myself back up onto dry land.

I was quite shaken, I don't mind admitting it. The water was cold and dark and the current was strong and better swimmers than me have lost their lives in such situations. I slumped in my chair and pulled off my boots, emptying them out before wringing out my socks, grateful that I was still around to do so.

In time the light went and I packed up the tackle and loaded it into the car. I picked Denis up at the appointed time - he'd had quite a good day with five pike in all, though none of them were very big and we drove home in the dark.
Maybe I'll start wearing that lifejacket on the bank from now on.

Pastures New
After that debacle I had two days on Blithfield and then I managed a couple of days away on my own to a new river.
Blith was a disaster, with no pike caught either by me or by Kevin although we both came close. Kevin hooked a good fish of around 23lbs on a Bulldawg but it threw the hooks at the side of the boat then a few minutes later I hooked an immensely powerful creature which took off like a train. I got this under control after a while only to discover that it was a pike of around 28lbs hooked in the back! I got it boatside and kevin flicked out the hook with his pliers, letting it sink back to the depths.

The new river was a great venue although with lots of walking around looking at swims and lots of time spent talking to people I didn't actually get in much fishing time but I did manage a twelve pound pike on a wobbled dead roach.

I'll be back there in the near future as there are some very big pike to be caught in the area and when i get one, I'll let you know.

Otter Watch UK

Yes, the way things are going I'll have to change the name of this blog. I see otters in so many places nowadays I'm beginning to think they're following me around. I'm not one of the anti-otter brigade, I like to see them, but I have to conclude that when they put in an appearance the fishing's probably over for the day.

I had a two-day trip to a stretch of the severn this week and an otter came into my swim both days. This was a new stretch of the river to me and I researched it using the various mapping and aerial photography sites available on the net and I was intent on fishing two big wide bends I had picked out. These websites are a boon to the river angler but there's one thing they can't tell you and that's where the flow is in the river. Sometimes it's best to fish the inside of a bend but sometimes the outside is better - you can't tell until you actually see it.

I arrived at dawn on day 1, loaded up the gear onto my back and walked to the inside of the first bend. It was a very long walk and I was disappointed to find, when I got there, that this was one of the awkward bends with all the current on the inside and none on the outside of the bend. I fished for a couple of hours with a bait very close in in the slackish water close to the bank and another cast well across, keeping the rod high to keep the line off the surface. Nothing happened though and I moved on mid-morning.

I yomped back to the car where I loaded it up then drove round to the other side of the river where I bumped into a farmhand who was building a big fire. He was surprised to see me, telling me he never saw anglers on that stretch. Hmm, was that good or bad?

This bank was a much shorter walk but a very steep climb down to the river. The bank was very muddy and it was a struggle to get down with all the gear so I had to take my time, the dodgy knees protesting with each downward step. It looked worth it when I got there though, there was a big slack on my bank now and after a bit of plumbing I discovered that it was around seven feet deep - perfect! I dropped in a floatfished whole herring, propped the rod up on the marginal vegetation, switched on the baitrunner on the reel, sat back and waited.

Nothing happened, but before long I saw a splash way out across the river and spotted the telltale line of bubbles that could only mean one thing. It was a small otter, maybe a youngster and it was busy feeding on something it was finding on the riverbed. I couldn't work out just what it was eating but every time it surfaced I could see that it was chewing away on something. I don't think there are crayfish in this stretch of the river so maybe it was finding small fish or some other crustacean. It worked its way off upstream and was gone before long.

I stood up and picked up the lure rod, not worrying too much now about spooking fish close in since lack of action on the close-in rod suggested there was nothing there anyway. I clipped on a slider and flicked it out to the left, three or four twitches and the lure was hit quite hard - but the fish wasn't hooked. Two more casts with the same lure didn't provoke a strike so I changed it for a purple raider and first cast with that, I hooked a fish. It felt like a double figure pike but I never got to see it, it came unstuck halfway in!

I cursed the usual curse, reeled the lure back and checked the hooks. They weren't bad but I reckoned one of the points needed a touch-up with the hook sharpener so I started to root around in my bag to find it. Just at that moment I heard a steady buzzing sound, the float had gone, the bait had been taken! I picked up the rod, wound down hard and struck, meeting a solid resistance. Something was wrong though, there were no kicks, no head shaking and slowly I gained line until I could see I was hooked into a waterlogged branch. The fish had obviously run into a snag and somehow transferred the hook to the woodwork.

Two fish lost in as many minutes and I was really fed up. What made matters worse, the otter came back and spent quite a bit of time in the swim. I packed up after a while, hoping to get to the other bend on the stretch and have an hour's fishing before dark. The climb up the slippery slope was tough and I was well out of puff when i got back to the car. Short drive up river and I was out and yomping once more, another long walk to this swim. Halfway there my journey was interrupted, the next field had a bull in it. Now bulls are unpredictable, most of them are docile but the odd one can be a bit feisty and there's no way of knowing for sure until it turns on you. I waited at the fence for a little while and the cows that were in the field along with Mr Bull started to drift away to the far side of the field. The bull obviously thought they were far more interesting than me and he followed them, leaving my path clear.

This bend was, if anything, even more inviting than the last A big slack, 12ft deep and the river more than fifty yards across, there had to pike here. I fished deadbaits and lures but nothing happened so the day ended in a blank but I'll fish that bend again. I slept in the car but was awoken sometime after midnight by the sound of heavy rain hammering on the roof. The rain lasted until dawn and then the sky cleared but I knew it bring the river up and sure enough, when I slithered down the slope to the spot I lost the fish just after first light I could see that the river was on the rise. A rising river is often the kiss of death and so it proved to be. I fished for a few hours anyway but the only thing that happened was that another otter came into the swim. This was a larger beast, a dog otter I think and like the other one it was finding something small to eat on the riverbed.

I packed up once more and spent the rest of the day looking at swims and stretches I might fish in the future, hopefully without too much company from our furry friends.

What else did I do this week? Well I was on the telly, Sky Sports to be precise.

You can see it here, navigate to the Nov 4th episode and click on download;


http://www.skysports.com/podcast/0,20494,19916,00.html