Coming off the high.

 

 Since my new challenge' inception time on the bank has been increased to try and get a head of steam going, visits to the bank have been mainly blanks as autumn swiftly turns cold as it has and Barbel become a little more difficult to locate and catch. Back out again on Tuesday evening for another go at one of my local rivers saw me arrive on a very cold riverbank. Not knowing what to expect and quite rightly high on confidence, my current set up and bait is certainly doing the right things and getting out as soon as any time comes up. The added impetus will hopefully lead to more fish on the bank.

 Two rivers ticked off my list in a week it was always going to be difficult to keep going and whilst I currently have two other rivers on the go I know the prospect of doubles now given the time of year will become more of a harder task, but I am more than willing to keep up the hard work, maybe another will slip up soon enough.

 Tuesday evening was spent roving around in 1c temperatures in the frosty fields and as I made my way through a few pegs it became apparent that I wasn't going to get a touch, so at 0030 I threw in the towel and headed off home to grab a couple of hours kip before getting on the road for work. Another blank added to the list.

 

 10 trips since October 13th has resulted in 8 blanks and 2 successful trips with a fish caught on both ( 15.10 & 13.9 ), both have been the target fish.

Third Time Lucky.

 Having made the effort to drive the 350mile round trip to visit the banks of the Trent twice already I really wanted to achieve my goal of a double figure Barbel. Knowing roughly where to go is always half the battle, however, it isn't always the case. Doing my best to keep away this time from the busy sections I opted to fish further upstream for a bit of solitude and hopefully a Barbel or two. 

 With large amounts of rainfall across the country I wasn't surprised to see it was up, coloured and pushing with more rain due during my visit. This time I was joined by my younger brother Richard, so perhaps it wasn't total solitude but close enough. I finished a 13 hr day at work having left the house at 6am and returning home around 7pm, I got myself together and set off for the Derbyshire/Nottinghamshire border ahead of what was likely to be a lively visit owing to the remanence of Hurricane Zeta that was blowing out in the Atlantic.

 Myself and Richard arrived around midnight and set about getting ourselves ready for what was a gruelling walk through the fields, boggy, slippery, raining and cold made it even less desirable, we knew however that the rewards for those who bother to make the effort are there. This certainly was no A1 pits or Collingham, the banks were steep and clearly had been under water for some time as a fine layer of mud was strewn everywhere, not that it mattered to us of course, in the torchlight of midnight we set about finding somewhere to fish, on a section of river I'd never set foot on before and only had a few snippets of info to go on, we made it hard for ourselves.

 With the rain continuing to fall setting up camp was the most important task to try and keep most of the gear as dry as possible as the forecast suggested opportunities to dry the gear out were going to be non-existent. A rod wasn't cast until 1am I think, so getting a bait out finally meant that we had got ourselves ready. The bait I am currently using is the HookBait Co' garlic nimrod boilees, along with the matching 6mm pellets in little PVA bags and glugged to give them a boost in the floodwater. A 30'' hooklength was deployed along with a size 8 teflon coated micro-barb hook. 

 In the Trent flow I knew I would have to make adjustments as time passed by and rainwater coming in upstream put another 3 inch on during dark. As the sun rose the Owls calling between trees stopped and the sight of the Otters playing downstream gave us another spectacle, the surroundings were even better and gave me my first showing of the Trent beyond the open plains of the tidal reaches.

 Without as much as a bite by 8am I decided to bring the rods in for half an hour whilst I went for a walk about to see the river in daylight and also see if actually we could choose a better looking area. As pretty as it was elsewhere, more so than in the area we was I thought the treeline below us would hold fish and after leading around at first light found a slightly deeper run and 5 yards below where I was casting to before and yes, Barbel have a great sense of smell, but on the odd occasion if that bait isn't on the dancefloor so to speak its not going to be effective or stands less of a chance of success. 

Our view for the trip to begin with.

 It wasn't until Richard had a strange knock around on his rod tip did we get the first sight of action, not big by Trent standards but a fish all the same, my confidence levels ramped up no-end and decided on a tactical change of my own, that being the rigs, the long 3ft ones came off and my standard 10 inch hooklengths went on. An hour or so later I was chatting to Rich when my left hand rod ( fished tight to the overhanging tree) roared off and the line, even on a relatively tight clutch melted off the spool! 

 I lurched forward for the rod that was still violently nodding downstream and as I picked it up I could feel the weight attached to the other end, immediately I knew it was either a Barbel or a Carp. To begin with I was just doing battle with something heavy out in the flow and constantly made a beeline for the main fast water which was hurtling through. I have to admit during the fight I was shaking like a shitting dog and really struggled to keep my legs steady as they shook like branches in a storm, the sheer power meant I was potentially connected to a large River Trent Barbel which is what I had undertaken the 350 mile round trip for and as the battle continued closer in I caught a brief glimpse in the murky water and a Barbel it certainly was! 

 Seeing how big it was I dare not put a foot wrong and allowed the fish to hold out in the flow to tire, a tactic that I've employed many times over the years with great success. With a width of roughly 100ft across and 3-6ft deep I had plenty of water to use and trusted that there were no snags in the vicinity that could cause problems. After around five or six minutes of battling I finally got the better of her and started to walk backwards so I could slip the fish into the awaiting net, that was when I knew I had achieved my goal of a Trent double, BOSH!! GET IN THAT NET!

 In the net she looked a good 12lb+ but when I hoisted it out onto the mat I knew it bigger for sure and the trusty Rueben Heatons didn't disappoint, my one and only bite off the Trent in 2 and a half trips amounting to roughly 90 hours by this point and it was exactly if not more than I'd dreamt or hoped of catching.

Trent Gold!

That will do just fine! 

 A Trent Barbel weighing at 13lb 9ozs which has capped off what has been a superb 6 days on the rivers.

 Thankfully when the rain passed I was able to get a couple of photos as it was hammering it down whilst playing the Barbel and think the rest gave it plenty of strength as out of 10 quick fire shots on the camera only two were in focus. Things on the Trent until this point had transpired against me, especially the weather, this time, even with the storm now blowing through I got my reward, but now I really wanted my brother to get one on the bank.

Finally stopped raining by this point.

 As the hours past I was willing one of the rods to go and as dusk quickly approached I felt even more confident that we would have more action, no sooner than I thought that my left hand rod went again, I leant into it and could feel immediately that it was a Chub and rolled on the top, a good fish too around the 6lb mark, then out of nowhere the weight increased as a Pike grabbed the Chub! I couldn't believe it, I would have thought a six pound plus Chub would be safe from attack by now but I was simply mistaken, within seconds however the Pike had towed the Chub into the snag I was fishing and couldn't stop it, just moments later everything went solid and did my best to get it out.

 After taking off the pressure and allowing the fish to try and come out on its own, it is a tactic I have used in the past but this time after a few minutes realised the fish had gone and my hook dumped into some branches...such a shame, how big was the Pike! well it wasn't little I'll tell you.

 By 7pm we had no further enquiries and had decided to call it a night and by 8pm we had packed down the rods and prepared ourselves, with no sleep, absolutely knackered for the mile walk back through the boggy fields to the car. They say no pain no gain, it was certainly true here.

I'm hoping my rich vein of form continues as I look to move on to two other rivers and hope to chalk them off, this challenge is one I am actually relishing. I needed to mix it up a little because I was starting to feel like I was stuck in a rut and something had to change.

 It has been a superb week, tough but superb. Now I continue my quest on two more local rivers to me and the River Trent is now, completed!

Creature of the Night. PB Barbel in the bag!!!!!

  

 I must confess, this last couple of weeks since I lost those two big fish a couple of weeks back have chewed me up and really got under my skin, not often I feel like that. To have a change of scenery to take my mind off it I dropped onto the Kentish Stour for a shot at a Barbel, however after 5 hours I came away with another blank, things haven't looked particularly rosey of late on the fishing front.

 The recent low pressure and incessant rain has had a good impact on the rivers down here and upon arriving on the muddy banks of the S.Ouse I suddenly felt confident that I'd get a chance, not that the river itself is prolific, anything but is probably more accurate but I was fishing with bait that I have become quite comfortable in using and a tried & tested approach that have caught so many Barbel for me over the years.

 After a swift drive into Sussex from my nice warm house I began to setup the rod and once that was ready I under arm threw a small offering of freebies and side hooked a small PVA bag of the same garlic nimrod pellets and 15mm garlic nimrod dumbbells crushed up. Now ready and raring to go a short placement of the hookbait on a gravel run was all I needed as any fish downstream would hopefully find my hookbait in the mild murky water.

 The setup I have began to employ is a 15lb braided mainline and an 18" 15lb IQ2 hooklength fished with a size 4 continental wipe gape barbless hook and a 2oz lead. It may seem a bit heavy and certainly heavier than I normally tackle up with but wanted to make sure that if I got another chance I didn't want to lose it, failure once again was not an option.

 As Arsenal played the last of a lousy 90minutes of football I opted to turn off the phone and watch the stars appear just as a large storm cloud eased away, which had dumped alot of rain during my opening thirty minutes on the river. Not to be deterred I put the hood the up on my new Daiwa bib & brace set and focused on my rod. Not long after the skies cleared another bank of rain headed straight for me, roughly 50 minutes after setting up and recasting with a new PVA bag I got a couple of very delicate taps which got me hovering over the rod, ready to pick it up the rod started to just pull round but very slowly and then stopped. I wasn't sure what was happening, for about 30 seconds it held firm in that position by which point I decided to lift the rod and give it a firm strike, to my surprise it wasn't a bunch of leaves, but didn't feel like a fish for about 10 seconds as it held solid, that was until I tried to gain line on it, then it moved!

 I cranked down on a fairly tight clutch and I don't think the fish realised it was hooked as it came towards the bank really easily and thats when I saw it in the torch light, a NEW PANTS PLEASE moment! It was a very big fish and just as I thought about mugging it "she" used one stroke of her large tail to soak me ( luckily donning my suit ) and she tore off downstream, stripping line off the tight clutch, more than 30 yards! I was powerless to stop her and could only out some side strain on to halt the charge!

 As she approached the next tree line I started to get worried that she'd shift my hook into the branches like the previous lost monsters of the night did, so I had to go for broke and tighten the clutch even more and pray my gear was up to the task, as having seen the fish I knew what was at stake. Mercifully, she started to slow up and found that lifting my rod up in the air rather than side strain got her to turn quicker, from that point on I didn't let up at all and just kept up the pressure and making the odd yard of line. Not before long I leaned back down with my awaiting net and this time, she was ready and gently slipped in. Cue the fist pumping and cheesy ear to ear grins!

 Not even the rain that started to hammer down by this point could dampen my excitement! The scales settled on a mind boggling, personal best breaking, Sussex river munching machine 15lbs 12ozs! 

 A quick few images were taken and hoped for the very best as I didn't want to damage the camera.

 I recast a couple of minutes after releasing her once a nice long rest was completed for both the fish and I! But I couldn't focus, so I packed up and went on my very merry way! River number 4, completed. 

Pastures New, Tales of Lost Creatures in the Night.

 
Having spent many years trawling through what were local rivers to me I am now starting to target something a little different and have set myself something of a marathon target, that I shall touch on later in the blog.

 Given my proximity to a few rivers that may provide something of a different challenge to me I have decided to give them a go and see if I can catch some of the larger specimens that inhabit these rivers. The target for me is of course Barbel and my hope is that I can locate and catch double figure fish. With limited access and knowledge of these rivers it really is a work in progress and first up was a freezing cold night two Friday' back as I set about trying to bag up a fish on my first go.

 Under the stars and a murky river my hope was pinned on a very smelly bait with a small PVA bag glugged in some very potent stuff to do the work as locating fish in the pitch black was not an option. Nearly seven hours had passed before calling it a night and headed back home without a touch.

 So with that I decided to get back out as soon as I could, but given the good conditions dwindling I had to get back out sooner rather than later and chose another river, again in the pitch black I wasn't giving myself much of a chance to learn anything, only relying on basic watercraft and hope that there might be something local and feeding. After setting up, using a 18'' 15lb hooklength, size 8 hook and 2oz lead I flicked a single Garlic Nimrod boilee into the flow and hoped for the best.

 Twenty five minutes drifted by fairly quickly and got a little peckish, so as I reached into my bag to grab a bag of Wotsits my centrepin absolutely raged off! the rod thumped around and the nightlight was perpendicular to me to begin with, by the time hit the fish the nightlight was way downstream obviously attached to the rod, I nearly lost the rod! even with a pin.

 A big fish clearly from the outset and I was trying to remain calm as much as possible, no other fish was capable of such vigour that was present, so I knew I was hooked into what was possibly my target, so I played it as carefully as possible, but not knowing my surroundings this was counter intuitive. Plenty of rod tip in the air, plenty of side strain at times to as it kept powering off to the far bank margins and on the third attempt of the fish trying to get there my worse fears were realised when the tension just went. 

 As I tried to retrieve my hooklength a branch came along with it across the surface, the fish, clearly not wanting to come in transferred my hook to the branch and vanished, I was obviously gutted and didn't get to see what it was owing to the coloured water, so my mind is still, as I write this playing tricks on me and how could I have changed the outcome.

 Changing my hooklength and resetting I got a bait, back out in the same spot, this time I was even less optimistic given the battle I had just experienced, anything within 50 yards was probably long gone.....just over an hour had passed and I had carbon copy take! Another brutal take had me in full panic mode, my headtorch went straight on to try and see the culprit, but again, in the murk I could see nothing!

 Knowing what had happened just an hour before I really put the breaks on this fish, 1.75 Tc rod was bent hard, palm on the spool of the pin and the fish was still giving it hard! twice I managed to turn it and as the fish headed downstream I began to breath a sigh of relief it came back upstream so fast I couldn't keep up and it went straight over to the far bank and done me on the same sunken branches as the first one and on that powerful run, it proved to be the last, just when it was probably just a minute from netting, the line, once again went slack and the fish was gone. There was literally nothing I could do, to lose two fish in my first hour and hour on a new river to me and both felt really big, this particular river does fish over 17lb and who knows, I could have contacted one of them. Gut wrenchingly difficult to accept and never have I experienced such extreme shows of power from Barbel before last Tuesday. 

 I was so compelled to break my duck given those two lost fish I got my gear in the car the next evening and shot straight back down, unfortunately for me, I didn't receive a touch for 4 hours, I called it a night at 2330. I will certainly be back!

 As I mentioned at the top of the blog, I am setting myself a challenge which I know will be over the course of a few years and not something that'll be achieved overnight. That challenge is to catch double figure Barbel from 40 different rivers across England, something of a marathon and not a sprint, very early doors at the moment, but will hopefully gain some traction once I can get some time on the bank.

Chasing Chevins Part 4.

 

 I should give up on the title...

 ...although I am actually targeting Chub the Barbel seem very happy at my presentation and at times not giving the Chub a chance! Not often that happens I'll tell you. 

 Recently I have found myself heading down with a couple of hours to use, the trotting gear was however revamped for this visit and although I was using the rod the centrepin was respooled with low diameter 8lb line to continue trotting, which would hopefully give me a fighting chance at landing Barbel should I tempt them. 

 So I think it was obvious how this visit went! Nothing big landed, given the loss of those two big ones recently it is bit of a kick in the plums that I now can't contact anything much over 7lb. The above Barbel came on my second trot, on the first through I saw a Barbel flash on the gravels that I was targeting, the fish I see roll wasn't the one I'd hooked. This one a low-six pounder.

 A nice photo opportunity with the float setup in view. It took a good hour to see another Barbel or Chub and after a small Chub of 3lb or so I moved upstream and as I was wading upstream a good shape eased up off the bottom and moved upstream about 10ft, luckily for me I could see it, just tucked along side some ribbon weed and as I got into a casting position the heavens began to open, completely out of the blue and the timing could not have been worse, as now I was fishing blind, right in front of me. 

 I very quickly got soaked through and the thought of giving up now on this opportunity was not in my mind, eight trots of around 10ft culminated in a Barbel sucking my flake off the bottom as I was fishing about 10inch overdepth to get the bread to bounce over the bottom and work the small depressions, this lovely Barbel slipped into the net as the rain began to ease off. 7lb 1oz.

 That for the afternoon was that, not bad, but no decent Chub, another day I suppose it may be very different.

Chasing Chevins Part 3.

 

 ***More Chasing Barbel, but they aren't necessarily the target.***

 Building a head of steam on this one, the heat of the summer is slowly but surely being dominated by a distinct autumnal feel and as the late summer floods have thinned out the thick weed beds its now time to dust off the trotting gear.

  A few days back as the high water pushed through and colour began to filter out I headed off to a southern chalk stream for a blast at a Chub, armed with a few loaves of bread I set about "crumbing the runs" and trotting through any area that looked worthwhile. 4.4lb line certainly sounds light but have had numerous big Chub fishing lite and often found big Chub shy away from thicker lines and more cruder approaches, with limited time I wanted to make the visit count.

 With my first couple of trots through my first peg a small Chub fell to my trotted flake, but at only 2lb not the size I was after, however nice to get one on board quickly. A move upstream provided a bite almost instantly. A firm strike was met with a solid fish and a darn sight heavier than any Chub I could have wished from, by that I knew it was a Barbel and it didn't take long to get eyes on it as she powered upstream past me (a good 25 yards) a certain double, long, thick set and very strong. I tried to keep calm knowing I had very lite gear on for such a fish and about two minutes the fish was level with me and in the blink of an eye the let go of its grip and the float/shot and hook came flying back at me, I was totally dejected and could still see the Barbel holding bottom level with me.

 Tough one to take that was! Coupled with what happened next really got under my skin as on the very next trot, two hundreds yards upstream. I got into the cutout and shallowed up my float probably six-inches as it was a slightly shallower run. I must admit I approached this run with slightly more caution owing to the numerous banks of ranunculus and ribbon weed but that still didn't help me when my rod hooped over once striking into a very good tug on the float, the resulting Barbel rolled on the surface immediately and looked colossal ( not one to exaggerate either ) certainly bigger than the one I lost just ten minutes previously possibly 12/13lb, the fish then powered upstream towards after initially heading downstream, it came up so fast I could not keep up with it and by the time I regained complete control she dived into one of the weedbeds I hoped I'd avoid, that mistake on such lite line spelt disaster, a few seconds of solid tension began to ease and out came the fish.

 Danger averted! Enough pressure had been kept on her to slowly ease her out, now the fish was into open water and clear of most of the weed, I was beginning to breath a sigh of relief and my mate Stu was starting to get excited as was I, then, out of nothing my float came flying out the water and a giant tail pattern broke the surface as the Barbel stormed off. 

 On inspection it appeared that the fish must have passed across something sharp on the bottom and cut through the line, the barbless hook will be gone in no time but the memory of losing two massive Barbel on the float stills hurts now, 2 weeks later! 

 My resolve almost broken and the rod tossed in the bushes following that crushing blow I seriously thought about sacking off the rest of the trip, dejection of the highest order and it would take something very very very special to even paper over the cracks.

 I tried my best to remain positive however and within half an hour I had finally managed to build a swim and get some enquiries without being smashed up by a big Barbel. Second fish to make it to the net was another Chub of 4lb 14oz and a good looking fish, then the float slipped away with what turned out to be another Chub a little bigger but over five pound barrier @5lb 3ozs (pictured), quickly followed by another barn-storming tug on the float which turned out to be a nice Barbel, just a little over five pounds.

 The Chub averages on this river are doing so well and it will hopefully be just a matter of time, yet another five pound specimen and catches like this give me a great feeling. 

 The rest of the afternoon drifted by with very little action until the evening when I slipped the net under another Barbel @6lb 1oz

Chasing Chevins Part 2

 Who'd have thought that by the 16th August that I would have only visited a river five times! it astounds me I'll tell you. However, going by what I have seen and heard in terms of rivers not producing hasn't given me any added impetus to get out. Now, as we enter late Summer and Autumn isn't too far away now I can start to make provisions to target some of my favourite species as it gets cooler and given the cold rain and boost in oxygen coursing through the veins of the river I have decided to give it a go a little earlier than I would normally.

 Friday just gone I decided to give it a couple of hours and start my baiting campaign, hopefully one I actually stick with, as normally I run out of steam as I lose concentration when conditions improve for fishing for species such as; Pike, Zander and Grayling.

 As dusk approached I set about cutting hopping, hoping to get a bite or two and I did manage a couple of raps (likely to be Chub) and a few indecisive taps as smaller Chub were looking to whittle down my 15mm boilie ( Garlic Nimrod - HookBait Co ) which I am going to use for this campaign when I get the chance to get down, but on this occasion I ended up with a blank, which is quite often what I have come to expect as the numbers in this particular section are low.

 Fast forward to yesterday afternoon when I got a few hours down on the river to pick up where I left off. 

 Conditions again looked good, storms brewing all around me, the level up around 6 inches and heavily coloured, it was ideal for Barbel and Chub. All I needed was a fish to find my bait!

 I spent roughly an hour in my first cutout and although I felt confident all I got was the odd little tap-tap on the tip, so I packed away and moved downstream and it was an inspired decision. I quickly leaded around to find a clear run of gravel amongst the weed, I popped the rod down on the tree trunk and turned to grab a handful of 6mm pellet and the rod tip slammed around and the pin roared into action. Talk about right place - right time.

 Not a biggie but a fish.

 So I moved again further downstream and spent a further hour and a half sat on my hands as small Chub attempted at whittling my bait down. As the storm got overhead and the lightning was flashing at such a rate I felt like I was on the red carpet at a Leicester Sq premier!

 But that didn't stop this thick set Chub taking a bait and doing its absolute best to lodge me in a large weed bed that ran parallel to me, not that she looks it but she weighed 5lb 1oz and was quite surprised by it so I weighed it a second time before getting a shot and releasing. 

 Then as 2100 approached and the storm was dumping loads of rain on me I had another take which resulted in a 5lb 5oz which I didn't get a good photo of owing to the rain and did lose a fish just beforehand in another large bank of weed which was almost certainly a Barbel. 

 I really hope thats the last of little Barbel as I'm not really here for them, big Chub & Barbel is the target.

H'Wrassing the Population.

 After many years of procrastination I finally got my arse in gear and hit the coast! The list of potential species to aim at was endless but I only had one target this time around, the stunning and aggressive Balon Wrasse. What was great too is that I was scrambling the cliffs with fellow madman, Nathan Edgell. For a few years now I've mentioned coming down for a blast at the Wrasse but simply didn't make the time, that was yesterday.

 Fair weather, a pouch of jigs and lures, a tank full of diesel and gear packed I set off at 3am. Nearly three hours on the road and 166 miles westwards I was in Wrasse territory, by 0620 I was following Nathan' lead down 500ft of coastal cliff face in order to get to prime fishing spots. Crazy I know but essential (often nothing worth having is easy). 

 By 8am I had caught my target species and a fine fish indeed, complete with amazing colours and even more impressive dentures! 

 Then as the morning wore on I got a savage take which lunged for the rocks below and with a tight clutch my rod tip arched alarmingly quick and in a flash it was gone, I could do absolutely nothing with it and it felt big.

Not long afterwards I got a couple of half-hearted taps and nips on the sand eel replica jig which then went quiet, so a move across some rocks was made and proved to be a good shout as Nath' and myself got a few fish on the shore with this my best of the day out of five! 

 With time slowly drifting away we decided to finish up as I had a 3hr return drive ahead and didn't want to leave too late, however, I will certainly be back as it was a pukka trip and in great company! If you read this, cheers! 

 The views were fantastic and in truth, I've fished in worse places :) 

A Neolithic Ammonite.

An awesome panoramic of our days playground.

Not a bad view behind my sofa!

Canal Bream...Glimpses of Glory.

 Since 2015 big canal Bream have featured sporadically in a typical calender year, the mileage often put in makes these; and indeed Carp, Pike etc something of a treat to myself, but also if I have gained a few pounds then marching 10-20 miles in a day can often aide the removal of said weight.

 Stalking is the only way I target the canals given the nomadic lifestyles the fish live, so efforts must be matched to give myself a chance. My best two "Cut Slabs" have weighed 10lb 1oz and 10lb 3oz, both really big fish, however with the average canal bream weighing no more than a pound or two, these fish and others that I've caught between 7-9lb are colossal and represent a very tiny proportion of the systems populations. Catching one of these is of course a proper treat and an experience that you can't get blasie about, every capture is remembered fondly.

 The other afternoon I finished work at a fairly decent time so I grabbed the stalking gear and met Brian on the towpath, in search of something special and it didn't take long either. We stumbled upon a shoal of Bream cruising on the top, so I got readied and launched out a bait in the mix, the bait dropped a couple of inches under the surface and a big Bream sucked in the flake, I struck and missed it!. Damn!

 With no time to dwell on the miss, I got the bait back out and hoped for a similar response and what do you know! I did, another big Bream sauntered up to the slowly sinking bait and sucked it in, this time I got a hook hold and the fight began, albeit not very hard. A fairly laid back approach to setting up see me playing the fish between my legs whilst I got the arms in the spreader block, once I got the net in the water I then eased the fish into the net and it was a pretty good one!.

 BOSH!!!! another big'o bream'o for the records. 8lb 14oz puts this fish at number 6 in my canal Bream specimen list! Quite impressive.

 Once that fish had been photographed and slipped back we aimed at getting more, unluckily for us the boat traffic seemed to come out of nowhere and coupled with the spooked shoal meant that no more were caught from that shoal. So we began the march....

.....that went on for hours, mile after mile of baron towpath started to leave us both feeling a little dejected in some ways. No Bream, No Carp or anything else for that matter were on show, it left me thinking what has happened to the stocks of the above fish. Never struggled to see the fish, just not caught many of them.

 As we headed back towards the starting point of the afternoon we spotted two carp, that unfortunately slipped through without getting tracked (wrong light to see through the water) and that was our lot, not a soul spotted after that. The time had come to put an end to the trip.

 My second cast of the day was all I needed. Could have gone home after that in hindsight.

Chasing Chevins Part I

 A fair few years back I used to open the season up with Chub in mind. Many hours spent hauling mediocre fish in the 2-4lb range, one after another on various tactics, but the prospect of a big fish back then was practically non-existent and even playing the numbers game, a 5lb+ specimen was something you achieved maybe once every other season amongst season long hauls.

 Some bags could exceed 50lbs, especially back in the late 1990's and early 2000's. Unfortunately as the local areas began to play host to a large influx of people from the East of Europe, those fishing had very different intentions which meant stocks were declining rapidly and areas where I could have a great days sport were now empty, literally an hour of building swims would result in nothing more than the odd little fish, those 2,3&4lb fish were no more. As table fodder the Chub and in fact, any fish big enough to eat (typically anything over 3oz) were being taken and no matter how much the beats were policed the sheer numbers and tenacity of the thieves at work, the damage simply couldn't be stopped.

 So naturally my attentions turned elsewhere. Fast forward twenty odd years and I find myself still dropping in on these same areas, a lot wiser, a lot more cunning with my approaches and with the majority of "the dregs" now gone (possibly owing to the fact they ate just about everything and it got too hard for them and they left) I can get on with trying to get amongst some big fish that have now managed to grow on unmolested.

 Opening day I was on the Fens somewhere so my first trip on my childhood stomping grounds was a few days later. Barbel and chub fully spawned out sometime ago and with the warm spring the fish should have had time to pig out and recover some weight.

 My first trip was only going to be short as I was on my way to work, so a spare hour or so was all I had to find a fish.

 A bright sunny morning, crystal clear water and my polaroids on I got to work. My first two peeping gaps amongst the nettles were not fruitful, third gap was unfishable owing to a load of snags that had probably moved in during the 6 months of rain we had over the winter! I crept into the fourth swim and straight away I could see a large dark shape over the gravels, roughly halfway across and I knew exactly what it was.

 I spent a couple of minutes watching the fish which appeared to be unaccompanied before deciding to go with the tactic I had employed in the other gaps in the nettles. Well upstream I cast the meat and proceeded to roll it downstream, right in the path of the chub and within seconds it was right next to it in the swift flow and the chub gently sidled up to it and watched the luncheon meat vanish, the anticipation of the strike was incredible and with one stern strike a powerful chub headed straight downstream, stripping twenty yards of line with no hesitation, the fish knew it was hooked.

 Thumbing the pin the chub was halted before making a mad dash back upstream, hugging the far side treeline, typical by chub standards and the remaining fight was either played out against the far-side or near-side treeline before easing into the awaiting net...this was a bloody good fish for the river, in fact up there in the top 1% for certain.

 But the moment of truth would reveal it was the biggest fish I've ever had off this particular river by an ounce and not a fish either myself or partner in crime recognise which is even better news, three different sixes present, its getting interesting now!.

My best off this river, weighing in at 6lb 4oz!

MEGA! start to the river campaign.