Little Mirror on the Wall...

...who's the prettiest of them all?

 This one of maybe ten-eleven pounds is certainly up there. A quick fire morning on a local lake had this scamp running riot as I stalked it off the top amongst four commons, thank goodness this one was a little more hungry.

 Zip perfection :) and that was that, another day on the road in London, plenty of money to be made!!

The Trent: It's Easy I Tell You!

 For years now all I have heard and seen splashed across the angling prints and social media is the abundance of Barbel and Chub that the Trent holds and the sheer numbers of fish being caught to anyone who reaches its banks. Whether it's 8ft on owing to a couple of months rain falling in just a day or so, or when the river is flat on its arse and the flow has almost ceased.

 Such can be the numbers of fish being caught by seemingly everyone, I and my party of two ( Father and Brian ) could not blank and in fact end up having to fish just one rod such would be the pace of the sport that we would experience, or would it be a crock?, simply a river that in good form can deliver some awesome returns for anglers but by and large just be like most other big rivers, hard most of the time and bar the "hotspot, in Collingham Weirs top ten pegs" have the ability to wow the travelling angler on the odd occasion but resign them to hours of head scratching for the remainder of time.

Standard procedure.

 I will on this case cut to the chase and tell you it isn't easy, yes we weren't shall we say in the hotspot but I know the conditions should have given us more of a reward for the 362 mile round-trip. I won't say I fished badly even though I couldn't even muster a bite, my approach was no different to what everyone else employs, my watercraft had me fishing exactly where I would expect a fish or two and to compound my theories furthermore my father above me and Brian below both caught on the same line I fished both rods ( 10-15m apart ).

 I won't play the blame game either, it simply didn't happen for me, I fished the same conditions as everyone else and yes it wasn't fishing well, even some very experienced Trent locals had only managed 2 to 4 Barbel in 72 hours such was the difficulty, many turning up, fishing a couple of hours and realising it wasn't going off so back off home they went, for us that style and approach wasn't an option as you could imagine!

Rods out at witching hour.

 It will simply serve as a stark reminder when I do go back up to not read into all the hype, go up there when I can next and give it hell! However, I could not see this trip go down as a failure as I had the pleasure of witnessing my Dad' first Barbel for quite sometime in the form of a stocky 6lb 15oz torpedo and Brian of course catching one as his rich vein of form on the Barbel front continued in stella fashion with a lovely specimen a fraction under nine-pounds.

 In the famous words of Arnold, "Get to the chopper, Trent bound"!

 For us who stayed up we were treated to one hell of a night sky too! the clearest I have seen in the UK for many years and excluding the two fish on the bank the highlight of my trip, how small our existence really is in the grand scheme and offered me at gone 3am a chance to reflect on a what has been a tough year for me in all aspects of life as I gazed into the abyss....how wonderful it is to be a brother of the angle.

Peas in a Pod!

 Back on the river again and back amongst the fish. For so many years I've been doing this but never have I seen so many young fit Barbel coming through the ranks! Fish between the 1-4lb barrier were seldom seen or caught, most likely owing to their disproportionate numbers to larger fish 5-9lb bracket. For what seemed like the river was going to turn into a big fish river has quickly entered its cyclical downturn in terms of larger fish to smaller fish ratio, but has exploded in the last 5 years into life as a vast number of young fish seem to have made it through the tough "early years" where predation and delicacy to the pollution that often enters the river, especially in these conditions!

 Targeting big Barbel just six years ago was a task that I'd often set myself and fairly often achieve, big fish for me here would be anything over nine pounds. Currently I am trying to build on my early season success of a mid-nine pounder and look to build up a head of steam as we enter a very wet autumn. In the south our aquifers have been running on bare bones and although flash floods are never a good thing for anyone or anything the surrounding countryside has benefitted of late as additional rain has entered at a decent rate allowing the water table to start filling up and my local rivers have slowly started to hold a good level with varying clarity.

 Big Barbel are difficult to find nowadays and the hope that one will come along at night whilst fishing static is almost my last real hope.

A typical trot, makes less than accessible areas easier to fish.

 However, with the rivers smaller inhabitants float fishing for Barbel has become an even more likelier approach than most other tactics and no more so than the other day, an hour available, two swims and three Barbel. Nothing large, but action all the same, two of which may well have come up through the ranks, side by side from a neighbouring spawning ground some 8-10 years ago!

A pair of little tikes.

Best of the day at 5.06.

Barbel, Camera, Action.

 Slowly catching up now and this piece was following a decent couple of short trips out in search of Barbel, hoping the fish were still hard on the feed I hit the river with a view to taking them on the float or freelined flake on the top....yes yes yes I know Barbel are designed for feeding on the bottom but in the right conditions paired with the fact they are as greedy as any other fish they can be taken clean off the top and this feat has been achieved many times in the past.

 Joined by Brian for an hour or so we became the Barbel' arch nemesis, between Brian spotting and feeding, whilst armed with the camera I had the arduous task of fishing :),

 Within five minutes the deadly duo were in action and Brian was snapping off some pukka images whilst I had my arm ripped off by a stroppy boris. Not that I mind of course.

 These sorts of shots are ones I have wanted for years, problem is I tend to fish alone and also never in accessible areas, not that this was particularly accessible, but having that second person meant that the shots could be made.

Not a monster, roughly 6lb 8oz.

Not long after, number two slipped up.

Then this superb little whisker!

 That small Barbel is a very indicator as to how well the river is currently doing, if only the EA and TW look after it better it can remain that way!

 To finish it all off a decent Roach of 1lb 8oz took a liking to some freelined flake too.

Gudgeon Fest.

 There aren't many more species in our rivers that trump these awesome little creatures, spirited fights coupled with very bold biting, everything about these fish raise the question, where would they rank in terms of desire to catch them if they grew to say five pounds?

 For me, I thoroughly enjoy catching them regardless.

 Here are a few snaps of a little batch of Gonks that I had roughly 6 weeks ago.

Summer Gold, Better By the Hour.

....I could have easily gone after that immaculate barbel, however with so little opportunity swinging my way to go out fishing I remained on the river to continue the good work. I had recently heard of some good chub coming out upstream from a friend of mine and whilst the thought of targeting some big chub sounded like a great idea my physical condition was really putting paid to most plans, I had to stay fairly close to where I had parked, just in case the pain became too much to cope with, not that you'd know it looking at the smile with the barbel!

 As I meandered upstream slowly the beginnings of the acute pains were starting to shoot through my buttocks and down my left leg as the nerve trapped in my back was starting to get agitated with the short walk. A typical walk on the river would normally comprise of at least six miles being covered in a short 4-hour session, I knew I would be very lucky to complete one, thankfully I managed to get to my first port of call, one that I have managed big chub and barbel out of in the past, although if recent showings are anything to go by then I wouldn't be targeting anything sizeable.

 Funnily enough on this occasion, my previous visits would account for absolutely nothing! As I gingerly hopped up on to a narrow wall I could make out numerous shapes out on the gravels along side a large submerged tree, possibly thirty fish (barbel and chub) in plain sight, this could surely only end up with me catching at least one fish. with practically every fish on show I sat and watch the shoal for possibly twenty minutes before a large chub caught my eye right tight against the submerged tree.

 Having already spotted possibly four or five chub over 4lbs I kept my cool as I hoped one of the rivers larger residents was stopping by and sure as, there was at least one. The largest was holding position away from the main shoal but unfortunately not in a casting position, the next ten minutes was spent flicking lumps of bread flake out and gain the confidence. No sooner did the flake start going out scores of fish charged out of position and intercepting the bait, barbel over 7lb were taking flake as it hit the surface and chub were bullying each other out of the way to get food, some people would think these don't get fed!

 With all the commotion going on inside of the tree and myself the coy monster of a chub slowly began to make its way into the mix, numerous barbel and chub still occupied the narrow gravel channel, mouths wide open and awaiting the next piece of bread, now that I had the big chub' attention I began to throw lots of bread in way upstream in a bid to draw the hungrier fish away from the target chub and allow my target a couple more seconds to make up its mind without me hooking another fish as I knew I only had one shot at this!

 When plans are formulated there is always that possibility that it won't work, but without flicking a bait out I'd never find out. First cast out and a barbel around 4lb quickly honed in and if it wasn't for a quick bit of thinking the whole game would have been up. Quickly pulling the flake away from the barbel allowed it drift back down in the flow and within seconds the big chub sidled over and the flake was engulfed! My Mark IV bent double and one hell of an angry chub stormed off for the far bank cover where I spent a nervy two minutes or so trying to prevent it winning the battle!

 I wanted it a little more than it wanted to escape and my largest chub off the river in 9 years lay in the net!

5lb 10oz, my second largest off this river.

 I have seen a few good chub this summer and coupled with a 5lb 8oz specimen I had just a week or two previous certainly shows this river is on the up in terms of chub weights as it has noticeably stagnated in the past decade if not two. Now, I could only hope for this river to produce "sixes and sevens" as they incredibly impressive creatures, I have my reservations on that thought, though the piscatorial romantic that I am would love to see them common place.

 With my target chub in the net the remainder of the shoal barely spooked and having begun the reintroduction of flake to the swim it was clear the previous few minutes of noise etc didn't dampen their appetites, so I left the big girl in the net and got another bait out and what do you know?! Another very good chub sucked it in first time of asking, in front of about six hungry barbel!

5.10 and 4.12.

 Side by side they filled a 30 inch spoon landing net and my 1957 Mark IV lye proudly next to them, 10lb 6oz of summer gold that most would envy! I know I would.

 What I'd do to find them again in the winter, my first six off of here may well be achieved.

 Just over an hour since that awesome barbel downstream and I was blessed with a stunning brace of chub, lucky me...two months down the line and my back is improving, time however is still at an absolute premium. Just got to make it out!

 Tight lines all and hopefully my next post will be out soon.

 All the best, James.

Summer Gold, Seeking Barbel.

 How long has it been?....over two months I believe and that is way too long. It's not that I haven't been fishing because I have, albeit very little. The rigours of work whilst managing the pain that I still find myself experiencing, that coupled with the completion on mine and the mrs first property, not to mention Baby have all taken their toll on what spare time I used to have.

 Seeing as it's been a long time I will get back on to the fishing and this one was a good one, especially as it was on a local river and knowing that I only had half a day an early start was needed to give myself half a chance. Just before 6am the rod was set up and I began marching the banks.

 With the sun still very low beyond the trees and the dawn mist creeping off the surface gave it the feel of the beginnings of a magical morning and so true it was. To begin with I scanned a couple of miles of river to no avail, the river was gin clear and the lowest I have seen it for quite a long time but this for the most part didn't help in spotting the Chub and Barbel amongst the gravels and numerous runs of weed. As I got close to grounds I have had recent successes off of I started to look even harder into the water and within probably 200 yards I got my first sighting of a good fish.

 Almost level with me as I crept over the briars and ivy I tried my very best to avoid detection. Such was the nature of the "peg" if you could call it that, is that I had no other way to get bankside and just hoped the golden shape didn't slip out of sight. Once in position and on my haunches a plan of attack was made, one that I sure wanted to work. Seeing how long it took me to get back on the bank I really wanted to catch something big, here was my chance.

The strikezone!

 I started off with my normal, go to approach of rolling and after being shun on the first attempt I was made very quickly to go back to the drawing board. As my bait came within two feet of the Barbel' holding position she shuddered and bolted downstream and out of sight, although bearing in mind the weed growth is dense in this area that feat wasn't hard to achieve. Hoping that she wasn't spooked beyond temptation, I sat and waited for about ten minutes tucked away with my secondary tactic out and fishing, a link ledgered piece of meat just held bottom in roughly the same position I had my abandoned chance previously and mercifully she slowly began to head upstream and into view, as she did make it closer to my bait the steam started to form on my polaroids in anticipation.

 Just four foot now lay between target and bait and the suspense was insane, then, out of nothing the then static Barbel had enough of staring lunch in the face and within a second or two my bait vanished which nearly had the rod in, even if I was holding it! such was the ferocity. Its a feeling I have sorely missed.

  A good four or five minutes was spent trying to navigate this powerhouse from burrowing into the numerous beds of ranunculus and then trying to get the fish to ease into my net which was tough as a really big tree overhead impeded my ability to lift the rod tip, nevertheless I finally slipped the fish over the rim of my net and my trip was already a blazing success and only into the trip less than an hour. Summer Gold at 7am and glistening in the morning sun, how I have really missed that.

 In the water I thought she was a double and I wasn't far off. 9lb 7oz of chalkstream gold.

 For me that was target achieved and for me the remainder of the day could have gone by without further incident...however, it only got better. All that to follow in part two of Summer Gold.

The Art of Catching Barbel.

 Is quite simply put in other words, to understand the art of catching chub!. This is true throughout all fishing in our wonderful and enchanting rivers. Where barbel reside chub are almost certainly close by.

 This season I have chosen to invest quite a bit of time on a neglected stretch of river off the beaten track and away from my usual haunts. Revisiting somewhere I haven't been for some time, I spent in the region of fifteen trips a few years back attempting to cross paths with an elusive monster, one that I had the pleasure of seeing with my own eyes holding steady in a fast narrow stretch of river. Chocked with ranunculus, just as it was then. I am almost holding out hope that she may still be alive or another specimen of her calibre hidden amongst the large healthy beds of weed that could quite easily conceal such a creature, the unknown for me is tantalising yet nervous at the same time, my efforts may not be rewarded in such glorious fashion.

 The very sense of being there, on that stretch of water fills one with such excitement that even with my continuing health issues that I shall not bore you with enable me to find the strength and ability to pick my way through the maze of towering stinging nettles for the first time as I look to nestle myself along with my B James Mark IV Avon 10ft split cane rod and a little bag of bait in a nook or cranny that looks fisherable. As I approached the last three to four feet of the bank I can just make out through my steamed polaroids the tail of what looked like a good barbel.

 I crouched back down behind the slightly less dense bank side foliage and wipe the condensation from my glasses whilst gently wafting some cool air up my light jumper. As I regained my viewing position I could see with clear vision a barbel of at least ten pounds holding at the tail end of a bed of ranunculus that stretched possible forty feet! This unfortunately meant I had probably entered what would be the area I would pull fish up from, so I beat a slow retreat after admiring such a glistening creature for a little longer. Confident my cover wasn't blow I slipped my way upstream to roughly where I thought the ranunculus would start and my prediction was spot on as I stumbled upon a large clear gravel patch with the beginnings of the roots of weed arching up and waving in the flow.

 This was certainly earmarked as one of my spots, so I underarm threw out a healthy helping of 6mm pellets and broken 15mm dumbbell boilies, kindly made by Darren McCann of the Hookbait Co. With the dinner bell rang this was not for fishing in mind on this occasion, yes I knew one very good barbel lay forty feet downstream and possibly more between her and the bait, but I wanted the bait to settle and allow whatever was there to feed confidently until such time that I felt the swim was ready for me to start fishing.

 In the back of my mind the fast glide where I saw, 'The Monster",  we shall just call her for future reference and wondered was there anywhere to possibly fish what is a very pacy swim. A further venture upstream through what appeared to be virgin jungle was energy sapping, sweat pouring from every pore on my body, the sound of the faster water was getting louder and this spurred me on to continue! As I got closer visions of "The Monster" crossed my mind again and almost peered through the water expectantly. This time though there was to be no initial mirage followed by the realisation of a 14-16lb barbel sitting in the flow just a rod length from me.

 Rewind those few years I just remember thinking to myself, one: how could I not have bought a rod along knowing I was looking for areas to fish and potentially have a chance at fishing for something, but secondly: why, knowing the potential of the water did I not give it more of a chance. I think the reason this campaign has come about is simply I want a challenge, away from other anglers and fish the good old fashion way, whether its stalking at close quarters or playing the long game, fast forward those years and I am here. Hoping that my chance of something special hasn't passed me by.

 The swift glide has more weed on it now than it used to but looks in fine fettle and although I didn't see a barbel I did spot the odd chub drifting around at the tail end of the weed runs. The section I am fishing is possibly half a mile long, no weir pools to keep me occupied and I feel the fish don't move much, I only think this simply based on my knowledge of barbel, yes they do move a lot and know to be transient but there is a whole host of overhanging bushes, marginal trees in the water, not to mention the very healthy weed growth which provides masses of cover. Natural food here is not in short supply either as I bait dropped out a few batches of the bait I came back with fresh water shrimp and even watched a dragonfly larvae climbing out the river in front of me as I watched that barbel.

 Knowing that competition food wise is going to be hard I felt that it would be good to get around five patches in total ticking over with bait and maybe adopt the forty-five minute rule, this is if you've had no bite in that time move to the next swim, or if you catch, move anyway to manage the swim in a way that doesn't put pressure on the shoal if indeed one exists. It's all about swim management. So over the last week including last Thursday I managed to make the journey down to keep the bait going in. Driving all that way just to bait up!...the saying "effort = reward" I'm hoping this rings true and on the 16th of July I made my first journey down to the river with the rod all set up.

 The previous evening, instead of watching the tripe on the television I sat down and started tying a few rigs that should see me through the season. My main approach is going to be bait and wait ( unless stalking becomes an option ) so I made a few rigs using the Gardner gravel coloured coated braid and by stripping around six inches of the coating off allowed me to give the hair/hook a lot of flexibility, in time this small design may pay off. The hooks I use are wide gape hooks, always use wide gape for barbel, regardless if I am rolling meat or static fishing, the pattern is something I have absolute faith in. The size of the hook I want to relatively match the size of the bait so I am settling with a size 8 for now which is also coated in a gravel coating so that when fishing in the sunlight it doesn't glint which could put feeding fish off.

 The five swims I have chosen to get feeding all look fairly similar in terms of weed growth and cover, but the pace is different throughout the stretch and I am keeping an eye on a sixth possible location when in flood conditions during the winter as it has a fairly large back eddy that no doubt will be somewhere fish, especially barbel and chub will seek refuge come the cooler months with the higher likelihood of rains. On the 16th I dropped into a peg I really did fancy right from the off but with the bright sunlight I could still see some of my broken boilies amongst the gravel which was a good indicator to me that the fish in the time I had been feeding that spot weren't on it often enough to clear it off. That did open up a few dilemmas in my head as to whether it is a feeding area, or an area just the odd passing fish grubs up on and goes off elsewhere.

 I'll leave myself to ponder on that another time. Having gathered my gear I slipped off back down my little trail, shrouded by the annoyingly tall nettles, getting stung on my neck and face (which wasn't pleasant) I got to my next port of call, a nice swift run in the middle and an inside crease that I felt may well hold a fish or two. With my 1.5oz gravel coloured lead I gently placed it twenty feet downstream and a rod length out, sat back and waited for the tip to slam round and the centrepin to spin!

 The tranquility experienced on the bank in such wild surroundings is a huge part as to why I love angling so much and at a time where there is so much negativity, I can safely say that there will be (hopefully) none of that on this quest. As a pair of Kingfishers chased each other up and down I almost missed just the tiniest of taps on the rod, only subtle, but enough to get my attention as around fifteen minutes had passed by now and I was just soaking up the atmosphere, as you do.

 Then, like a shark had just taken the bait with rod lurched healthily downstream and line tore of my nearly sixty year old reel, I was sure that in just a short time I had caught a barbel, after finally gaining control of the rod and I gingerly got upright I began to gain quickly on what turned out to be a modest chub of around 4lbs, not my target, but it was a fish. After a quick snap of actually what was a stunning looking fish I headed downstream and rested the patch I'd just caught from.

 This peg was one of the wider ones and in truth quite tricky to fish but I chose it as a potential area of interest is that the gravel was spotless the whole way across, only a couple little bits of weed and I felt this was a peg at night that the barbel and probably chub would come in and feed on, thus giving it a go. Again, I opted to put on a small PVA bag and underarm casted the bait out with minimal noise as I am not sure yet whether the noise turns the fish on or spooks them, only time will tell on that one.

 I sat in this particular patch for around half an hour whilst occasionally standing up to stretch my back and legs, but, to also have a peer through the polaroids to see if there was any activity on the gravel for which there was none on each of my checks. After half an hour I decided to make my way back to the swim I had the chub from and hoped that any other chub in there would have spoked off and any barbel in the peg would have a feed.

 Same as before I inched my bait into position and just laid back, daydreaming of what could be, questions and scenarios constantly running through my mind. The fact I am trying is enough for me, I believe I have caught enough barbel over the years to say I am competent enough to achieve such a quest, should my target still be swimming these waters. An hour passed by in a flash and said to myself I need to pack myself away for 9pm, that gave me time to get to the motor and get home without waking up the mrs. As nine o'clock came, I packed my bag away and folding the net away and into it nifty little sleeve, just leaving the rod out, as you do, just to eek that last opportunity out of the trip and it worked!

 A single tap was followed by a ferocious slam of the rod which took me by surprise as there was no precursor, a sturdy fight ensued out in mid flow and dived into a small bed of weed which gave me the impression it was a chub, now it felt heavier than a chub so I was a little curious, a few seconds later the fish finally came out the weed and rolled on the surface, a large chub turned and all the while the landing net is getting scrambled back together again!. As the chub turned it went deep in front of me to the bottom and showed no intention of coming in, but with such stepped gear owing to the abundance of weed the chub was swiftly bought back up to an awaiting net.

Pleased with that!

Caught at 2108, measuring 21.6 inches in length.

 Home time delayed by a little while but when its a chub of 5lb 8ozs I am sure nobody minds. In fantastic condition and in the winter it will certainly tip the scales over the 6lb mark, it certainly was no barbel, but the art of catching barbel is the art of catching chub, so it's inevitable. 

Unabled Bodied, Able Minded.

 Over the last couple of weeks I have really struggled with my health and the recent results of an emergency MRI scan have determined that a pro-lapsed disc which is pinching the nerve that runs the length of my left hand side of body through my buttock right to my toes has rendered me at times completely bed ridden. I can tell you that it has been extremely difficult to contemplate.

 For those who know me well will know spending any amount of time at home more than what is absolutely necessary is very difficult for me to accept, but feel that I am more at home away from home if that makes sense, my senses immersed in nature, whether it be in the deep Fenland spaces or the confines of the urban surroundings I live in. With my impairment fishing has become impossible and only since the first day of the season have I managed any time out fishing. With such a lack of angling opportunities available I decided to give my mate Brian a call and wondered if he fancied a wander around a section of our urban jungle.

 Knowing that the early summer roach fishing can be easy pickings the tackle was geared towards them. A 15ft Grey's Toreon float rod, Okuma centrepin loaded with 3lb line and a light 3BB float setup fished with a size 12 narrow gauge micro-barb hook was just perfect. I chose a nice deep pool that offered a near side and a far side eddy where roach normally reside, sure enough within a couple of trots the float slipped under and a fish powered upstream in the strong flow. Expecting to see a roach and a modest gudgeon appear is always a bonus and although it was not the sort of size that would get the blood pumping it was still great to see. I often wonder what a 6lb gudgeon would fight like if they grew to that size, per ounce they are very willing fighters.

 It didn't take long before my target finally came along, a roach of possibly 4oz followed by a procession of eight more in a little over an hour before the swim went strangely very quiet so myself and Brian went for a wander towards the bus stop. Before heading for our transport home I decided that a quick half a dozen trots under a favourite oak tree would yield a roach or two to add to my tally. What happened next I did not expect. As my float hit the crease I usually find roach sat a barbel shot out of the far bank cover and nailed my thumb-nail sized piece of bread flake.

 Needless to say the battle was awesome and on numerous occasions I felt that I was going to lose it. Having navigated the thick, lush runs of Ranunculus and overhanging tree branches Brian managed to slip a big barbel into a rather small net! Just goes to show, even on such light tackle with snags present you can land fish way bigger than your tackle is designed to "tackle".

 I was chuffed of course! 8lb 11oz of chalkstream muscle on light match trotting gear.

 Tight Lines all, enjoy every minute, I know I did, but since then my back has got worse and I am really struggling physically so it will be some time before I find myself out on the bank once again.

The Ever Faithful Roach.

 Fishing for Roach on the surface is not something you'd initially associate as a go to method for them, that said, I was feeding some crust on the surface to see if any chub or trout were present and within a short space of time I had roach well over a pound, a couple close to two pound confidently taking large lumps of crust just downstream of me. I was in awe at just how many were at it.

 Needless to say I got myself ready fairly quickly and within ten minutes I had built up a little bag of Roach before they got weary of my presence and they backed off downstream. A quick mat shot of the ones I had coaxed to the net, nothing big mind you.

 Once I released those guys back I tracked the trail of curst going down and could still some very big roach taking pieces of crust off the top, first cast had a large specimen of possibly 2lb swirl at the crust but didn't take it and continued down the run unhindered. A couple of free-bees went out and this large roach once again showed itself as the third piece of crust went down, so it was obviously being selective and for some reason wasn't confident in my offering but would wilfully take others.

 A slightly smaller piece went on just covering my size 8 hook went out and the same big roach came up and again swirled at the crust and I struck thinking it had taken it, but immediately it was obvious that it hadn't and the crust came off and was eaten by a roach further down the run. I felt my chance had passed me by and tried again after resting the run for a couple of minutes and feeding a couple of pieces of crust every thirty seconds or so to get them competing.

 The swirls started to increase in appearance and hoped this was my time, third time lucky I thought and as my crust went by the lair of the big one with no response I guessed that strike irritated it enough to drop away from that spot knowing now that it was certainly being targeted, five yards down the run a healthy swirl appeared as my crust carried on down the crease and then vanished, the line pulled tight and roach on!

 Not the biggest I'd seen surfacing but a roach all the same! Around a pound in great nick.

 After that one, two more roach did also fall foul to the floating crust but the prospect of a big roach seemed to end pretty quickly after that first miss. Another time I guess. When I back up and running.