Its Been A good Christmas On My Local River

This fishing game can certainly give you some highs and lows. Take last Friday 23rd December I couldn't get a bite despite the water temperature being around 43-44 degrees F I was targeting the chub on the river Ribble with bread, cheese and sausage meat. I chose to fish with a pair of 11 foot Avon action rods, Mitchell 300 reels, 6lb breaking strain line and size 4 barbless hook. I started off using one rod and, rolling baits down the stream until darkness. 'Nothing' Not a sign of a bite. I then switched to fishing static baits using two rods one with crust, the other rod I switched baits between cheese and sausage meat baits. Still nothing.

Another angler fishing downstream with pellets caught chub and barbel, his best barbel weighed 11lbs. Upstream my mate Mick Holgate fished crust and pellets catching chub and barbel with the best barbel going just over seven pounds with pellets the successful bait. I even switched to fishing a pellet on one rod. Still I couldn't get a bite. At nine o'clock with the water rising we called it a day. Its very rare for me to get a blank on the river Ribble. The day before fishing with Mike Osborne from Carlisle I had a nice catch of chub including a big five, while Mike had a barbel of 8lbs plus his chosen bait was pellets. I continued with bread cheese and meat.

Saturday 24th December I was up at 3-30am and into work just before 5 o'clock, at 12 noon I left the studio and headed off to the river Ribble for an afternoon session. Unlocking the gate I parked up, then collecting my gear together I walked upstream through the trees to my chosen swim. The house on the opposite bank looked all warm and cosy with its colourful decorations. Checking the water temperature I found it was 45 degrees F and with an extra six inches from the day before conditions really did look good, I had the river to myself. Having put the kettle on for a brew I made up my two Avon action rods. One designed for 6lb line the other 10 pound. Reels were the usual Mitchell 300's. I tied a size 4 hook on both outfits. My plan was to start off rolling sausage meat down the swim and introducing a few hook size samples of bait. As I sat having a sandwich and mug of tea, a good barbel rolled about thirty feet out, as I finished off my late lunch break another barbel rolled.

I was full of enthusiasm, having introduced half a dozen samples of hook bait I started fishing with a chunk of sausage meat paste. The bait had probably gone forty feet downstream, when the line tightened, and the tip was pulled down quite savagely. I didn't need to strike the fish was hooked. After a brief struggle I netted a barbel about 5lbs. On my next cast I had a quick pluck then nothing. Reaching the end of my swim under a large over hanging alder tree I struck off the bait then wound in the tackle. Baiting with another pigeon egg size chunk of sausage meat I cast out to the same line, then chucked in three bits of bait. Half way down the swim I connected with a good fish. A few minutes later another barbel about 8lbs was netted. In my next three casts I hooked three barbel probably averaging 5lbs. I was really enjoying myself.
I then had a ten minute spell without any bites.

I then decided to fish a line a bit further out, rolling the bait downstream it had gone about twenty feet, when I felt a pluck, pushing the rod forward I noticed the bow in the line suddenly pull tight. The strike connected with a powerful fish. After a good scrap I netted a great chub. Thinking to myself that's a big five perhaps a six. Weighing the fish it took the scale pointer to 6-4-0 I punched the air with delight saying to no one in particular "That my fourth six pounder this season" It was time for a fresh brew. Sitting with my hands cupped around the warm mug I watched a tawny owl quartering the riverside field on the opposite bank.Ten minutes later two duck hunter walked downstream with a brace of duck each, their Labradors walking to heel. Its a pity more dog owners don't control their dogs when out in the countryside. A lone swan suddenly appeared no doubt looking for food. I ignored this creature willing it to go away. Ten minutes later it moved off downstream.

Returning to my fishing, I switched to fishing with two static rods rods one baited with crust the other sausage meat paste, The crust baited rod was cast downstream close into the bank under the over hanging branches of a alder tree. In a thirty minute spell I had seven good pulls on this rod. I hit five of the seven bites, all chub averaging some four pounds. I then had a quiet spell for about twenty minutes. Suddenly the rod baited with sausage meat was pulled down savagely, the butt being lifted off the ground. The strike connected with a good fish that dashed all over the river, for about five minutes I was convinced I had hooked a big barbel.

It was a barbel, not as big as I expected. It weighed about 8lbs. It had certainly given me the run around. I fished on into the darkness catching chub and barbel. The mist become so thick I had a job to see the rod tips, I fished on into the dark for a while but with the temperature really dipping it was time to call it a day. It had certainly been a great session. The drive home wasn't pleasant in the fog, I had to share the road with a couple idiot 4 wheel drivers who thought they could break all the speed limits.

Christmas Day I suppose it was about 5-30 in the morning when I arrived in the studio, after some tea and toast I got stuck into some urgently needed editing. About 8 o'clock I had another tea break, finishing work just after 10 o'clock. I decided to have a chub fishing session on the Ribble, as I past over the river Calder I thought for some thirty seconds should I fish Whalley Abbey, I dismissed the idea and decided it was the Ribble.

Driving into the car park I parked up then went and looked at the river it had dropped over night, checking the water temperature I found it was down to 42 degrees F I wasn't really surprised after such a cold and frosty night. Today it was going to be a roving day I had the river to myself I walked upstream dropping a handful of mashed bread into several looking swims then walked back to the car I then walked downstream dropping baits into likely looking swims. Back at the car I had a brew while tackling up[ an Avon action rod centre pin reel with 6lb line, tying on a size 4 hook I pinched 2 LG shot on the line about six inches from the hook.

Picking up my landing net rod and slinging my bait bag over my shoulder I walked off upstream. I spent fifteen minutes in my first swim which is usually a banker without a bite. The next two swims also didn't produce. Arriving at the big oak I noticed a fish swirl on the surface. The first fish I had seen all morning. Baiting with a bit of crust I bounced the bait down the stream as I did so I had a call on my mobile. It was Paul Smythe as we chatted I felt a light pluck, then a good pull. The strike connected with my first fish of the day. I said to Paul I've just hooked a chub so I will have to go. Just before we ended the call he told me about a 6-15-0 chub he caught from the Kennet the day before. I congratulated him on a great fish I then said Happy Christmas to you, Karen and Billy Joe. I then pulled a good size chub into the bank where I bent down and slipped out the barbless hook. In nine casts I had five fish.

I then had a very quiet spell for half an hour, perhaps a bit longer, I couldn't get a touch. It was time to move on. The weather seemed to have warmed up a bit so I was hopeful of catching a few more chub. I headed off for a small copse stopping off at a small weir pool where I had a quick pull, then nothing. Arriving at the big bend I decided to anchor a big bit of crust under a far bank oak tree. For fifteen minutes I sat watching a motionless rod tip then decided to move. I fished another four swims catching six chub and with the light disappearing the temperature dropping I called it a day and headed off for my Christmas dinner. Its had been another good day

More Chub From An Icy Cold River

Tuesday December 27th was cold and bright the sky was blue, I couldn't see any clouds. I was taking Martin Salisbury a solicitor from Leyland to try and help him catch his first grayling. It was about 2 o'clock in the afternoon when we pulled into the car park, the river was low and gin clear, with bright sunshine we didn't have the best of conditions.

Martin made up two rods, a float fishing set up for the grayling, a leger outfit for the chub. I also made up a float fishing outfit for chub, a leger outfit in case the chub didn't want a moving bait. Martin had a couple of pints of mixed gentles and casters, I had a box of lobworms, some cheese paste, sausage meat and bread.

Collecting our gear we walked half a mile upstream to the big bend where I though Martin would find some grayling in the deeper water, I planned to fish a medium paced stretch of water over hung by a big willow tree about a hundred yards downstream of Martin. Having got Martin settled in I moved off to my swim. Checking the water temperature I got a reading of 38 degrees, no way did I think I would catch by trotting baits through the swim. I reckon the chub would be in the quieter water and tight to the bottom.

Against my better judgement I trotted the stream with lobworms and bread flake not a touch. An hour of this and I put the float rod away and picked up my leger outfit. By now the sky had gone from bright blue to a dark grey. It looked full of snow. I pinched on two LG shot about three inches from a size 2 barbless hook then baited with a big chunk of crust. With an underhand cast I dropped the bait into a crease some fifteen feet out from the bank. Within five minutes of casting, it started to snow. Ten minutes later it was a "White Out". It made me think of my dog sledding days in Swedish Lapland.

As I sat thinking how I was going to tempt a chub, I had a call from Martin saying "I've caught a grayling". Bringing in my tackle I grabbed the camera and went off upstream in the blinding snow. Martin had a smile that told me he was a happy angler. After a couple of pictures we watched the fish swim away to join its companions. As we stood talking about the fishing Martin said "Just before I caught my first grayling I lost a much bigger fish" Martin went back to his swim, I went off downstream to seek the chub.

First cast with a chunk of crust I had a nice fish just over 4lbs then for some reason I cannot explain. I missed five good bites. I would feel the light pluck then the rod tip would whack round. Striking I connected with nothing. Then I had three fish in as many casts all on crust, including a fish of nearly five pounds. With darkness approaching Martin joined me. I said "Sit down there and fish that area downstream of the willow tree" He declined the offer preferring to watch me instead.

Casting out I would wait a few minutes then lift the rod tip to move the bait a few inches, seven times out of ten I would get a good pull another chub would fight its way to the landing net. In an hour I probably had eight to ten fish averaging around 4lbs. Martin said You make it look so easy. Yes, it does look like that, but you could say its sixty years of practise. With the temperature dropping my fingers and ears getting numb we called it a day. Walking down river to the car park we felt happy, knowing we had both achieved what we set out to do. If your planning a session on the river go and seek the chub or grayling. Both fish will often feed in these sub zero condions and the bites will not be little taps as we are often told, but often a good whack round on the rod tip.