A Great Chub from the River Hull

For several months Paul Towers has been writing to me about the problems of catching big River Hull chub,then Paul hit gold. This is his story. Today 2nd January 2008 the weather was cold, it felt like it could snow. The outside temperature was a chilling 4 degrees. I had a few hours to spare and wondered if I should go and fish the river or stay warm indoors, drinking tea. I decided to go fishing.

Soon I was tramping across rain sodden ground, ankle deep in mud, with the cold wind biting and making my eyes water. It was quite late in the day so I’d decided to travel light taking only rod, reel, landing net and a small trout bag containing hooks, shot, bait and a few accessories. I didn’t take a chair or even a rod rest. This was fishing minimalist style!

I decided to bait three swims and fish them in turn, each swim receiving two balls of mashed bread. I watched them slowly disintegrate as they fell through the muddy water and made a mental note of each swim. I threaded 6lb line through the rings of my avon quiver rod and tied on a no6 hook held down with lg and swan shot. Crust was the bait, Martin James style, simple but effective.

I cast out into the first swim, allowing the line to form a bow in the current and gently held the line, feeling for bites. Like a heron I stayed poised willing a fish to take the bait. Fifteen minutes later I was still biteless.

I moved on to swim no 2, getting the same result and wondered if I should move on or stay a little longer. An icy blast of wind made up my mind for me and I scrambled along the bank to swim no 3.

The light was fading fast and angry clouds were gathering in the cold grey sky as the bait landed with a plop in the last swim. Ten minutes later the rod top dropped back and I felt a small tug on the line. I lifted the rod sharply and felt solid resistance on the end. This was not weed I’d hooked; it was an unseen force, which bored deeply across the river. I applied pressure and the rod hooped right over as I tried to pump the fish upstream. I thought I’d hooked one of the river’s barbel.

The fish began to tire but it was not over yet. It kited towards the near bank as it tried to bury itself in the reeds, looking for any opportunity to shed the hook. I reached out over the water trying to lever the fish from the reeds, my rod bent at an alarming angle but at last the fish was free and coming up in the water. It tried to turn again causing the water to mushroom and boil but then suddenly it surfaced and I nearly fell in the river with shock! I could not believe the size of this fish. It was a massive chub. I prayed for the tackle to hold as I guided the fish across the net. I let it rest in the margins for a while until I got myself together.

I weighed the chub and the scales registered almost 6lb. What a fish. Suddenly all the hard work became worthwhile. I took one last look at this wonderful fish, trying to remember all its detail, then carefully released it back into its cold watery home.
It paused for a moment, and then silently disappeared into the murky depths.

Many thanks to Martin James for his help. His advice helped me to catch this magnificent fish