I’ve Just Had One of Those Nice Days

I suppose it was around 7 o’clock in the morning when I loaded up my car with fishing tackle, baits, lunch, tools and rifle, apart from checking all my mink traps, I had some fencing and several stiles that needed some repair work to make them safe for my anglers who fish the Edisford Hall water on the River Ribble. What surprised me was how mild the weather was; though driving though the thick fog was a bit scary. What I find rather crazy was how the majority of motorist doesn’t have the common sense to put their dipped headlights lights on. You would think these idiots had to put a coin in the meter. Driving along the country lanes I was down to a twenty mile an hour crawl, though other idiots who couldn’t see more than twenty yards ahead of themselves just roared on without any consideration for other road users.

Thankfully after fifteen minutes twenty minutes I left the road for the quiet of a private drive, arriving at the riverside cabin I could see some twenty fieldfares on the riverside hawthorn bushes. The river had an extra two feet of coloured water and with the low light conditions I felt I might just catch a few chub today, if I had been on roach water I would have said “It’s a roach fisher’s day today” checking the water temperature I got a reading of just 40 degrees F. Having put the kettle on, I sorted out the tools and materials I needed including a roll of chicken wire. Realising I hadn’t got the battery for my electric drill; I chucked a couple of screwdrivers in the bag. With a fresh brew I sat watching the river as it flowed from left to right, I could see a nice crease thirty feet downstream and about ten feet out from the bank, where I would put a couple of cricket size balls of mashed bread, then hopefully this would encourage some chub into the area and feed.

I planned to start work on the upstream limit of the beat, working my way back to the cabin. Then after a sandwich and mug of tea, I would spend the rest of the day fishing. The first job on arriving at the limit sign was to fix a metal plate where a long fence rail had been broken, half an hour later it and the stile were repaired. Picking up my tool bag I headed off downstream, first stopping at the Farm pool where I repaired the chicken wire on the stile, hundred yards further down stream I arrived at Holgates Swim which really did look spot on for a few chub.

After twenty minutes of work on this stile I moved on. Finally arriving back at the cabin about eleven o’clock. My first job was to boil up some water for a brew, then give the work surfaces a good wash. Tea finished, I swept out the cabin them drove off upstream to the top beat to check on my mink traps. Walking through the wood I found trap number seven where I could see a large soot coloured mink which was quickly dispatched, that’s the reason for carrying a rifle. My next two traps also contained mink both a creamy brown colour. They were also shot in the head. That’s three less mink that want kill any water voles, ground nesting birds and water fowl.

The time was now ten minutes to noon, time for lunch, back at the cabin I put the kettle on then made up two rods a 13 foot with centre pin reel, 4lb breaking strain line with a size 6 barbless hook. My float choice was a red topped balsa body on a wire stem to take 6 AA shot which were pinched on the line about 12 inches from the hook. My other rod was a soft Avon action 11foot with a Mitchell 300 reel and 6lb breaking strain line to which I tied on a size 4 hook. Turning off the gas I walked across the field to the river and fed some mashed bread into my first swim, I then walked downstream to another swim and fed in some more mashed bread. Back in the cabin I made a mug of tea then sat down to enjoy my beef sandwiches as I read the Anglers Mail I noticed Ian Whitakker who was reported on these pages with a 30lb pike, is one of the weekly winners in the Anglers Mail big fish competition.. Well done Ian. Lunch finished I cleared away and then washed up the plate and mug before locking the cabin. Collecting my bag of bait and rod rest from the car, I then picked up my other gear before making my way across the field to the river. In the thick fog I arrived about fifty yards upstream of my intended swim

Chub on Float Fished Bread Flake

After running the float through the swim checking the depth I finally settled on what I thought was a taking depth, the float was set so that if I held it hard back, then the bait will move down the swim occasionally tripping the bottom, other times just two or three inches off the bottom. It’s rare to find smooth pea size gravel. On the River Ribble. My chosen swim was large stones with some bigger rocks about the size of a full house brick. Baiting with a thumb size bit of bread flake I made a cast to the far side of a crease then let the float move slowly downstream, I supposed it had gone ten to twelve yards when I lost sight of it. I wasn’t sure if the float had disappeared through a fish grabbing the bait or I had lost sight of it in the thickening fog. I decided to strike then felt the heavy pull of a fish, seconds later it was off.

I put in a handful of mashed bread, rebaited then sent the float half way across the river with a Wallis Cast it travelled about ten yards then dipped sharply. I set the hook into a hard fighting fish which fought stubbornly for several minutes but the pressure of well balanced tackle soon told, I soon netted a chub about three pounds.

I made three more casts without a bite, I then hooked a good fish on the next cast, and this fish took the bread baited hook within a few feet of the float starting to move downstream. After a good tussle I netted a chub I reckon would go well over 5lbs, though the scales said otherwise it weighed in at 4-12-0. After a fifteen minute quiet spell I had two chub averaging about 3lbs in two casts. Making another cast I inched the float slowly down the swim until it was virtually out of sight. Thinking it had moved across the river I made a powerful strike then felt the heavy pull of a fish, and then it was gone.

I fed in a ball of mashed bread then rested the swim for about ten minutes. Rebaiting I dropped the float in at the head of the swim and watched it like a hawk as it slowly moved downstream until it was out of sight. After several casts I hooked and quickly had another chub about 2lbs. in the next two casts I had two more fish both around the three pound mark. After a several casts without a fish I switched to a piece of crust then got two more chub about 3lbs apiece.

This was followed by a thirty minute spell without a bite, I then changed from float fishing to legering with a chunk of crust, a minute or so later David Jones turned up and as he did so, I felt a pluck on the index finger then set the hook into a nice fish. This turned out to be the last fish of the session. In some two hours I had eight chub all on bread and with the fog becoming thicker I decided to call it a day. Forty five minutes later I am back home. Sitting in my study I thought back to my chub fishing sessions and thought “That was a lovely day