Christmas Week in the Countryside

My Christmas Day wasn’t all about opening presents, sitting down to a dinner of turkey with all the trimmings, followed by Christmas pudding. Then perhaps falling asleep in a comfortable armchair or reading a nice book. I had several days of work and fishing ahead of my, which included shooting a picture feature of the Manor of Cadland Shoot in Dorset. I suppose it was just after six in the morning when I left home for the BBC Radio Lancashire studio, where after sorting out some work I had a mug of tea and some toast. Once in studio 1B I spent an hour editing an edition of At the Waters Edge programme. By nine o’clock I am heading down the M6 for Berkshire and the Wasing Estate on the River Kennet. Around one o’clock I drove into the car park on the Dalston Beat; the river certainly looked in good trim.

Last winter the weather was bitterly cold, rivers were low and gin clear with little chance of good fishing, and in fact it was a horrid winter for coarse fishing. This Christmas week, it’s a different story the weather was near perfect, an over cast sky with a light wind and mild conditions. The Kennet was up several inches with a good flow and a ting of colour. The water temperature was 46 degrees farenheight. The rain over the previous few weeks has done wanders for our rivers, the Kennet looks better now than I had seen it in the past ten years. Hopefully we will get much more rain over the coming weeks.

It looked perfect for roach; though it was perch and barbel I hoped to catch. My thoughts went back to a similar day in the early 1950’s when I fished the river Beault, among my catch were two good tench on float fished lobworm. I wouldn’t be catching tench today from the Kennet.

Picking up my gear I walked off downstream, in some riverside willow trees were groups of long tailed tits. Occasionally a pheasant shot skywards; passing a small copse I disturbed a Munjac deer which was as surprised as I was. Finally I reached the old Bailey bridge, looking downstream I spotted a movement in the hedgerow, looking closer I could see a pair of Goldcrest’s one of the two tiniest birds in the country, the other is the Firecrest.

A hundred yards further downstream I put together an Avon rod, matched with a centre pin reel and 6lb line, adding a cork on quill Avon float taking five AA shot, which I pinched on the line ten inches from a size 6 hook. Having got my tackle made up, I walked on downstream looking for a swim which I thought might hold some perch. Having walked a hundred yards, I found a small backwater the size of a dinner table. It looked good for a perch or roach. I suppose it could be described as a Crabtree eddy, the water slowing moving round and round this spot in an anti clockwise movement. Checking the depth I found eighteen inches of water. I decided to give it a try, and chucked in some broken worms. Baiting with two lobworms I dropped the float in at my feet, allowing it to go with the flow. Holding the float back I watched it go six or seven times around the tiny pool. No sign of a bite.

Ten minutes later just as I was thinking of moving, the float dipped then moved sideways against the flow slowly submerging. Thinking I was hooked up, I lifted the rod feeling a living resistance something powerful was heading out of the backwater into the main flow of the river; the rod was well hooped over. This wasn’t a perch, chub I thought, and then changed my mind. A chub couldn’t be this powerful; this was a barbel. These fish might be thick, but what they lose in the intelligence stakes they make up with their fighting qualities.

Five minutes later I felt in full control as I started to win, I also realised it was a good fish by the way it hugged the bottom. Five minutes later I was pulling the fish over the net. We have some anglers saying “Its not luck its all down to skill”? Utter poppycock, I was lucky to catch this fish. There I am fishing the tiniest of fishing spots for perch when I catch a good barbel. It weighed in at 10-6-0 my first ever Christmas Day double figure barbel. I was certainly a happy and lucky angler.

With no more chance of catching any more fish from the tiny pool, I moved on down river. At the bottom of the beat close to the boundary fence, I found a nice quiet bit of water. I thought it might be good for a perch, so it proved. In seven chucks I had five perch all around the pound mark. Big fish they might not be, but good fun. Fishing doesn’t get much better than watching a float as it keeps disappearing.

In the fading light the float bobbed twice then partially submerged before popping up. It moved sideways across the flow of water submerging as it did so. The strike connected with a good fish. No doubt another barbel, so it turned out to be as I netted a fish about five pounds. With the light nearly gone I slipped the float from the two rubbers added another LG shot and baited with a bit of crust hoping for a big chub. Sadly it wasn’t a chub but another barbel of about six pounds. In the next hour I had five more barbel three on crust and two on sausage meat paste. Feeling hungry and needing a brew. I called it a day.


Back in the cabin I put the kettle on, after scrubbing my hands I sorted out Christmas dinner, no turkey or goose, but a hot pot. Sitting in a comfortable chair waiting for dinner, I thought about my week ahead. Tomorrow I would be with a TV company when hopefully I could catch a fish or two. Wednesday one of the best photographers in the business Ian Chapman would be joining me on the Wasing Fishery with Steve Collett doing a feature for Total Coarse Fishing magazine. The next day Thursday I would be in Dorset with Stephen Collins a solicitor from Hungerford. We would be photographing a pheasant shooting feature for the shooting press both in the USA and the UK. Finally on Friday Stephen and I would be in Hampshire on the River Avon at Britford on the London Anglers Association water. Stephen in search of roach and dace, while I would seek the perch and chub. Finishing dinner I made another brew, then after washing up and getting my gear ready for the next day, it was off to bed.

Boxing Day on the Kennet and Enborne

Around six o’clock I was woken up by my radio alarm with the dismal news from Melbourne, where once again our cricketers had turned in another abysmal performance. It’s said “Peterson is not a team player”. I reckon that might be correct from what I have seen of him in action, he looks arrogant and to boot he isn’t even English but South African. As many of my South African friends tell me “It was good riddance when he went to the country with his attitude and arrogance”. Meeting the film crew on the banks of the river Kennet at eight o’clock, I had to get moving. After breakfast of porridge, tea and toast. I sorted out some fresh cloths, making sure I had something colourful for the filming.

Arriving in the car park I was surprised to find I was the only person, I did expect to see a few anglers. Five minutes later the film crew arrived, after discussing with the director and crew what they needed it was down to work. Half an hour later we arrived at a swim, I had fished the day before. I was lucky catching six perch on float fished worm with a barbel on legered sausage meat paste. 12 noon the film crew were finished and on their way. I went back to the car park for a brew, during which I decided to fish another stretch of river. Reaching Brimpton I changed my mind; instead I went off to the River Enborne.

On the Enborne I decided to roam the banks, with a bait bucket, Avon rod, centre pin reel, 6lb line with a size 6 hook, my landing net and fishing vest completed my gear. It’s a delightful small river that twists and turns often turning virtually back on itself. In many places the river is over hung by oak, alder and willow trees with lots of riverside bushes. In some areas you have to creep on hands and knees to get into position to get a bait in the swim.

Chub, perch, roach, dace and the odd barbel are the quarry, though the latter are usually found at the Aldermaston end of the river. In my first swim I free lined a lobworm which was immediately taken by a good size brown trout, it probably weighed two pounds. In the next two hours I had a mixed bag of fish, dace on small bits of flake on a size 14 hook to a 2lb hook link. Perch on lobworms, chub on chunks of crust, also a small barbel which snaffled a chunk of luncheon meat, and of course several more trout about a pound each. The walk back up river in the darkness was quite pleasant, not only did I see a group of deer; I had the great pleasure of seeing a barn owl quartering one of the fields. Without doubt one of life’s great pleasures.

After dinner I went off to the bottom end of the Warren where I roved around fishing for chub and barbel. Using a size 4 hook to 10lb line, baiting with sausage or luncheon meat paste. I caught several barbel, including a couple of fish about 8lbs from a swim near the Salmon Hut. I fished until nine o’clock then went off to the cabin. Enjoying a fresh brew with some toast I sat listening to radio 4, then sorted out my gear for the session with Ian Chapman and Steve Collett.

Hopefully I could catch a barbel for the readers of Total Coarse Fishing magazine. I was also looking forward to meeting Steve who like me fishes for everything including fly fishing the ocean. Having loaded the car with everything I thought I would need for tomorrows session, I called Ian asking him to give me an alarm call on my mobile at six in the morning. Sitting with a mug of tea, I looked back on another successful day on the river bank. Then it was off to bed.

On the Kennet with an Ace Photographer and a Good Angler

It was just after six o’clock in the morning when I was woken up by the strident sound of my mobile phone, it was Ian with my alarm call. I switched on the radio for news of the cricket, again another dismal day. Why do I torture myself with listening to the rubbish about a failed test team? Why do they have to have their wives and girl friends with them? That’s not going to get hundred percent team work. Once again Peterson showed us he isn’t a team man by going off with his girl friend on Christmas Day; let’s send him back to South Africa.

Our military men and woman in Iraq and Afghanistan are the real heroes. They don’t have their love ones with them. Its time these over paid cricket and soccer players started to earn their wages. When I was away sometimes for many weeks, I didn’t have a wife or girl friend with me. I turned the radio off. I didn’t need to hear what these prima donnas were doing. I was going fishing.

Eight o’clock Ian turned up in his red van, followed by Steve in his series 5 BMW. After handshakes all round we collected our tackle then moved off downstream. We decided to fish the Warren beat on the Wasing fishery open to everyone for the price of a season ticket. Telephone John Butler 07867-971758 or write to; The Estate Office, The Gardens, Wasing Park, Aldermaston, Berks RG7 4NG

Follow the fishery rules and you will have a great time. Walking downstream Steve and I discussed the prospects for the day, while Ian told us he wanted to feature our different styles of fishing a flooded river. Though we fish different methods, who is to say what is the better method. I reckon both our methods would work. Arriving at the ‘Willows’ a swim where the branches not only over hang the water, but also trail deep into the river. It’s not only a feeding area for barbel but under the trailing branches, it’s a sanctuary for barbel chub, pike and perch. There have been days when I have caught all four species in a session.

I chose a twelve foot rod I helped design some years ago matched with a JW Young’s centre pin reel with 10lb line to which I attached a size 4 barbless hook. I pinched on three LG fifteen inches from the hook, then baited with three pieces of luncheon meat. With a Wallis cast I dropped the bait down stream then allowed it to roll and bump further downstream close to the trailing branches. I repeated the process for about fifteen minutes with no sign of a bite; I changed to crust moving the shot four inches from the hook. As I fished, I tried to think why I couldn’t get a hit. Then it dawned on me, the flow rate had slowed up overnight, so perhaps the fish had moved out towards the centre of the river where the flow was probably more comfortable for the fish.

Rebaiting with another chunk of crust I dropped it towards the centre of the river where I slowly let it move down the flow. Steve said “Martin why have you chosen to fish further out in the river”? I explained my thinking and just as I finished telling Steve the reason for the change, I felt a tap, then a slow pull on the rod tip. The strike connected with a good fish. Having fought the fish upstream against the flow of the river Steve did the honour of netting the fish. After Ian had got some trophy shots we watched the fish swim off strongly. Ian then done all the shots he needed for his feature.

Having told Ian and Steve where some of the barbel spots were in high water, they went off try and catch. As I sorted out my tackle prior to catching up with Steve and Ian, another member turned up. We chatted about the fishing; in fact I reckon we spent an hour or more chatting not only about the barbel fishing, but also other venues including Wotton lakes where the Taylor brothers had some wonderful tench fishing in the 1950’s.

It was time for me to catch up with Steve and Ian, as I did so Ian was taking some photographs of Steve with a brace of barbel. The trip had been a successful one. I suppose it was about one o‘clock when we called it a day. Steve and Ian were going off home, while I was going off to Stephen and Marilyn Collins home in Hungerford where I had been invited to dinner. On the way to Hungerford I called into a supermarket to collect some supplies, I also picked up a bunch of flowers for Marilyn, finally I drove into a garage where I topped up with petrol in readiness for the long journey home on Friday evening.

Manor of Cadland Shoot

For some forty odd years I have photographed big and small game shoots, wildfowling and deer stalking throughout the United Kingdom. Experiencing some great days with delightful company in some great countryside. Where every day’s hunting is different. Many people think hunting is only done on horse back chasing the fox. In my book if we pursue any wild animal with a gun, hawk or hounds it’s all hunting. It’s a great sport and without the many shoots up and down the country, you and I wouldn’t have so much delightful countryside to enjoy. Without these sporting estates I am certain we would lose a lot of our countryside. No doubt they might become a housing estate or industrial site. Sporting estates also ensure the countryside and its wildlife is looked after. Many song birds survive the winter months, through game keepers feeding pheasants. Ask yourself this question. How many pheasants would you see in the countryside, if we didn’t have the sporting shoots and estates? Probably nil.

Stephen and I left Hungerford at seven in the morning for Dorset to write and photograph a feature on the Manor of Cadland Shoot situated on the Solent. It was just after eight o’clock when Stephen and I arrived at Cadland Manor where we were warmly greeted by Aldred Drummond and his party of guns which including Lady Henrietta Spencer Churchill. Another lady on the shoot was Sue who was loading for her husband Kevin Watts. Having had a mug of tea, we discussed with Aldred the plans for the day. He told us there would be four drives in the morning, Shore field, Newhouse, Upper Lepe and Nelson’s wood, with one drive after lunch at Whitefield.

After the second drive we stopped for drinks, I can certainly recommend the Slow Gin. We then had two more drives followed by lunch. Not sandwiches and a flask, for these sporting guns, it was a sit down lunch; of stewed steak, potatoes with rich gravy. Dessert was bread and butter pudding, followed by cheese, biscuits and coffee. After the last drive of the day we gathered again for tea and chocolate cake, then having said our good byes Stephen and I headed back to Hungerford.

Chub and Perch from the Hampshire Avon at Britford

A light knock on the bedroom door from Stephen, found me already awake and looking forward to a day’s coarse fishing. We were going to the delightful Hampshire Avon at Britford, where the fishing is controlled by the London Anglers Association. After a quick shower, I dressed for a wet and windy day. Breakfast finished Stephen and I was out of the house by seven o’clock. It was an awful morning, certainly not good for driving in the gale force wind and lashing rain.

Thankfully with very little traffic we made good time driving into the fishery car park just after eight o’clock. As the rain lashed the countryside, I quickly pulled on Wellington boots, waterproof trousers and jacket. Having sorted out the gear for the day we made our way up river, on my advice Stephen fished a swim just after the first gate; it’s a swim that often fishes well for roach and dace. If he wasn’t catching after a couple of hours I had another swim further upriver for him to try. I trudged on upstream for about half a mile to the weir pool where I hoped to catch chub and perch.

Before starting to fish I checked the water temperature, it was 44-45 degrees farenheight, and the river had some colour. No doubt before the day was over the river will have risen several inches and coloured up even more. I chose to float fish using a 13 foot rod, centre pin reel, 6lb line and a size 6 hook. My float was a balsa on quill Avon designed to carry 4 swan shot which I bunched on the line fifteen inches from the hook. Bait would be one, two or three lobworms. Having got the tackle sorted out, I put a pint of red gentles and a load of chopped worms into the swim. I left it alone for half an hour to settle down and give the fish a chance of finding the free offerings; I sought shelter from the horrid weather in the old mill and put the kettle on for a fresh brew.

After a welcome break, it was back into the rough weather to try and catch a fish or two. Plumbing the depth I set the float to fish the bait some six inches off the bottom. I quickly caught 2 nice perch. Twenty minutes later I had my first chub, a good four pound fish. In quick succession I had three more chub all over 4lbs, the best I though would go five pounds I decided to weight this fish. It went 5-3-0 which I thought deserved a picture. Walking down too Stephen I asked him to come and take some pictures which he was more than willing to do. Stephen had caught just three dace so I helped him move to a fresh swim two hundred yards upstream. The new swim was opposite a large willow tree that over hung the river. Having dumped his tackle in the new spot, we walked upstream to my swim. After taking a couple of pictures we watched the chub swim off strongly.

I suggested we should have a fresh brew, while I put the kettle Stephen fished with my gear catching a nice chub. Tea finished Stephen walked back to his swim. In the next couple of hours I caught several more good chub easily averaging four pounds. Then the bites dried up. I moved upstream to another swim I fancied. I couldn’t get a bite. I tried two more spots, still no luck.

It was time for tea and a sandwich, the break was most welcome, it gave me the chance to dry off a bit and get warm. Back in my first swim in the mill race I quickly had another nice chub followed by fish number nine, a chub that I thought would give me a brace of fives. It didn’t happen, this latest fish weighed 4-13-0. I then had a bite less half hour. As I was thinking of moving, Stephen turned up looking rather bedraggled. He had called it a day. I suggested we both call it a day but he said “No you fish on” It’s alright Stephen I’ve had enough in these conditions as I packed away most of my gear except the float rod, I wanted to try a spot further downstream where we had seen a few perch.

Arriving at the spot we could just see the perch in the now murky water, I reckoned they would take a big lob. The water was about two feet deep; I moved the float down the line so it sat on top of the bulked shot. Then baiting with a lobworm, I lowered it into the water. Within seconds a fish had grabbed the worm, the float bobbed, then bobbed again as it started to slowly submerge. The strike connected with a good fish probably weighing two pounds. Repeating the process I lost a nice fish, I thought this would spook the others, but it didn’t as I quickly caught a perch. This was bigger; it weighed in at 2-6-0 certainly worth a picture. We fished on for another fifteen minutes with no more bites or signs of fish, we called it a day. According to the river keeper I had done well on the river. In fact I noticed lots of anglers were packing up before lunchtime. I couldn’t really blame them in the conditions. As I was several hundred miles from home. So I hung on despite the weather. We arrived back in Hungerford about 5 o’clock. After a nice relaxing break and a good venison dinner I left at 7 o’clock for home. After a horrid journey in the gale force wind and sheeting rain I got back in Lancashire just after 11 o’clock it had certainly been a good week despite today’s atrocious weather. See pictures