Friday 16 November 2012
Pass the Defibrillator!
The pike fishing I'm experiencing at the moment is, in my view, of the very highest quality. I'm catching lots of pike, including some big ones, and they are coming from rivers on lures, it doesn't get better than that. There's another component to the story though that really sets my fishing apart just now, one that makes it so exciting at times that I may be in real danger of suffering a heart attack!
I had an extended trip this week. Once again it was a case of a day on Chew that I combined with some fishing elsewhere and in total it was to be two full days and two half days fishing. I arrived early afternoon on the first day, surveyed the river and thought it looked just right with a tinge of colour and a good level. I set up the lure rod, clipped on a big soft plastic and commenced casting "shouldn't take long." I thought to myself.
It did take long though, in fact it didn't happen at all. I spent the whole afternoon casting away and all I had to show for it was a follow from a low double-figure fish which seemed decidedly disinterested. I chatted to the other anglers who were there. They were busy reeling in roach and small chub and in normal circumstances they would have had loads of pike trouble, losing fish to the big predators, but not today. Hardly anyone reported seeing pike and it was clear that they just weren't feeding at all on the day. I was baffled by this, the river looked great, but all became clear later on when I checked the Environment Agency's flood alert service - the river had risen steadily throughout the day. A rising river kills the sport most times and that was what had happened, they just didn't want to know.
Next morning I checked the flood alert first thing and it seemed that the river had stopped rising and was holding steady so I was hopeful that the fish might be back on the feed as I approached the river. Sure enough I had my Euro Replicant hit within a few minutes of starting to fish and brought in a lively twelve pounder. The fish was in good condition but I was disappointed to find it had another trace down its throat. The trace was down very deep but by using a Deep Throat pike disgorger coupled with long forceps and cutters I eventually got the trace out and returned the fish. It was a well-made trace armed with quite large trebles but it had been tied to what looked like six pound line!
Where do people get these stupid ideas from? A trace made from thirty pound wire attached to line so flimsy that making contact with any snag would result in leaving a death-rig on the riverbed - for that is most certainly what had happened. This poor creature would have died for certain if I hadn't subsequently caught it - indeed it may die anyway, since the surgery involved in removing ironwork like that can never be good for a fish.
As I returned the pike I heard a splash just a little way upstream. It was clear that another pike was striking - and it looked like it was a big fish so I moved over towards it and cast out the lure once more. I drew it slowly across the swim, working it deep in the clear water, all the while expecting to feel a wrench on the rod. Eventually the lure came into view, wagging its tail like a faithful dog, it came closer and closer until I only had a couple of feet of line between me and it. It was at that moment that the pike appeared, lancing through the water to engulf the lure in it's maw.
I admit I let out a little shreik as the fish hit, right at my feet as it was, and immediately the thrashing and rolling began - the fish that is, not me. Playing a big fish on a short line with a tight clutch is not for the faint hearted but for excitement, there's nothing to beat it. I scooped her up in the net and hauled her up the bank. She went 23lb 11oz on the scales and I asked a passer-by to take a couple of quick pictures before letting her go.
The rest of the day was patchy but the fish were up for it with a little teasing and I finished with two more as the light was fading at 19lbs 1oz and 17lbs 1oz, a good day all in all. Next day was my day on Chew which I shared with my old friend Paul Brown but yet again Chew was a damp squib with very few fish of any size being caught and none at all to our boat. I loaded the gear into the car at the end of the day, glad to see the back of the place and set off once more towards the river for an early start the next day.
I fished a new stretch (well sort of) and walked a long way trying to find fish. This stretch is fast and shallow but here and there there are small slacks behind bushes or croys and it was here where I concentrated my attack, dropping a lure in and retrieving it just a few feet before I ran out of line. I worked my way to the bottom of the stretch on the right bank, a distance of a mile or so, with just a follow from a jack to show for my efforts, and then walked all the way up to the bridge, crossed the river and did the same on the left bank.
No joy there either and so I walked off upstream flicking the lure into any little corner where I thought a pike might be lying. I had almost run out of river to fish when I had a take and once again the fish slammed into the lure when I had hardly any line out and in full view just six inches from the bank. This was a brute of a pike, big shouldered, muscular and hard fighting and it really went against the heavy tackle. I got her in the landing net but she continued to thrash and twist as I extracted the hooks. I can never remember catching a better looking pike. There was not a scale or a fin out of place and her body was quite solid - the result of a life lived in the current of a powerful river.
I managed, with difficulty to wrestle this pike into the weigh sling and recorded a weight of 20lbs 5oz but to my surprise, as I rested the sling back down on the ground, the pike thrashed once more, got her head out of the sling and with a great flip, launched herself down the slippery bank and back into the river.
I watched her sink into the depths lamenting the lack of a photograph but hugely satisfied at catching such a fabulous creature.
Sunday 11 November 2012
Yomping
I had another single day on Chew this week, a bank day with Denis as my angling partner and to be honest, neither of us fancied our chances. Big fish are still coming from Chew but very few are getting caught from the bank and we just expected to blank even before we set off.
Naturally since we had such a long way to travel for just a single day's fishing we decided to add on a visit to another place but we were in for a bit of a shock when we got there - the place was mobbed! With anglers occupying most of the fishable swims our usual mobile methods would be severely hampered and so we set off to fish somewhere else - somewhere new.
The new stretch was something of an unknown quantity, I had fished it once and taken a single small fish but I had used deadbaits and stayed in one swim. This time we decided to give the lures a go. It didn't work out sadly, no fish, no follows and not a single pull to a lure after four hours fishing and with the light beginning to fade we had to make a quick decision. We returned to our original choice venue, hoping that some of the anglers there had headed for home and we were not disappointed, most of them had already left and others were in the process of packing up.
It's a point to note that had I wasted time weighing and photographing the fourteen pounder, I probably wouldn't have caught the larger fish. Fourteen pounders are nice to catch, they can brighten a dull day and catching on lures is always a thrill, but the weight isn't really very important, I've seen enough fish of that size to be able to give a close estimate on their weight and I already have several thousand pictures of low double-figure pike. That said, if I hadn't wasted time weighing and photographing the nineteen, I might have cast again and caught a bigger one!
Next day we fished somewhere completely new. A stretch of river some four miles long which we'd never seen before and about which we knew very little. It was inevitable that this was going to mean a big yomp with our tackle since we were going to have to work hard to find the fish but we were both quite excited at the prospect. We took both lure and bait tackle, increasing the weight of our gear in the process but it had to be that way since we didn't know what to expect.
Mile after mile we walked, casting a line here and there in likely looking places. Most of the river seemed fast and unsuitable for pike but before long we came across a classic swim. This was a small, deep bay set back of the main river where the water was completely still. Staying well back from the bank, we set up our lure rods and prepared to cast into this pool. My lure hit the water first and after just a couple of turns of the reel the rod was wrenched downwards as a good fish hit the lure. I played the fish hard and soon had it by the bank when I called to Denis to keep casting in case there were more fish present. Sure enough, within seconds Denis's lure was followed to the bank by another good fish but it didn't take.
Just like the previous spot, there was a cut back from the main river here but this one was much larger and was tree-lined - there had to be some pike here! I commenced casting my lure, expecting the rod to pull round any moment but nothing happened. Cast after cast, all I brought back was the odd leaf or twig from the bed of the river and I was scratching my head, wondering what I was doing wrong. The answer soon emerged, quite literally when a large dog otter surfaced right in front of me, not more than five yards away. The otter looked at me, snorted in disgust and then submerged once more.
That was it for the river, nothing more to report. As for Chew, well it went as expected, we blanked!
Sunday 4 November 2012
Busy Busy Busy...
Haven't had much time to update the blog recently, there always seems to be something that needs doing. I've managed to get out fishing though, and I've had a few fish too although there's one part of my pike fishing which continues to deteriorate. I've visited several trout waters already this season and almost without exception the experiences have been bad ones.
The latest failure occurred at Chew. I haven't got any good dates at Chew this year, they are all end of block days and all individual dates at that. That means a round trip of nearly 400 miles for just a single day's fishing and so when I can, I'll be combining my days at Chew with days elsewhere.
I was to share my boat at Chew with Kevin but he could only get the one day off work so I arranged to meet him there and I set off a day early and found some good fishing on the way there on another venue. It was only an afternoon's fishing but by staying mobile and using just lures I covered a lot of water and had quite a good session picking up seven pike, all of them over ten pounds with the two biggest going 16lb 9oz and 19lb 13oz. The fish all took big soft plastics fished deep and slow and apart from the seven fish I caught I also lost three that shed the hook. One of these I saw hit the lure in the margin, I would guess it was around sixteen pounds but another one felt much heavier. I never got a look at this one as it stayed deep and wouldn't come in but I'm pretty sure it would have been twenty-plus.
Next day we fished at Chew as arranged. I can't really report very much because not very much happened. I had a herring picked up within the first five minutes of fishing but it was dropped before I had the chance to set the hooks and that was it, not another run between us. Two decent fish were caught, a twenty-five and a twenty-eight pounder but apart from that everyone I spoke to just reported a jack or two or nothing at all.
Kevin set off home after his day at Chew but I wanted to catch some more fish so I spent the next day at the other venue and made good use of my lures once again. There were a lot of other people pike fishing this time and the competition made it a bit harder but I managed another four double-figure pike with the best fish a creditable 20lbs 4oz, I was well pleased with that. I like to try to get at least one lure-caught twenty pounder every season and now that little task is under my belt I can breathe a little easier.
One saturday it was time for Mrs Edwards and I to make our annual pilgrimage to the Lake of Menteith. This was a lure-only day organised by the PAC but once again my trout water hoodoo struck. We caught fish alright, lots of them in the 1-7lb bracket but nothing went anywhere near double figures. Mrs Edwards had the best fish of the day in the shape of a fine rainbow trout which took a Rapala Super Shad Rap in goldfish pattern. Ah, that lure takes me back!
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