Despite The Cold - I Caught Some Christmas Chub

Since about the age of 11 I’ve always reckoned that Christmas was holiday time, in my book that means going out with dog, gun, ferrets and snares or my fishing tackle, not staying indoors. Most of my past Christmas days would be spent fishing; Boxing Day was spent with gun and dog, either out game shooting or on the salt marshes wildfowling. In my book inland duck and geese shooting isn't true wildfowling. That can only be done on salt marshes or the tide line. I well remember one Christmas day as a 16 year old leaving my Rochester home long before dawn on my bicycle for the long ride to fish the River Beault at Hunton arriving in the darkness.

First job in the half light of dawn. was to power up my Primus stove, soon the Billy can of boiling water was ready for tea making, this was followed by a fried egg and bacon sandwich. This Christmas fishing trip was a lucky one, despite John Wilson once telling me "There isn't any luck in fishing” I reckon I get a big chunk of luck, I certainly did on this 25th December. Apart from catching bream, perch and roach I caught three tench the best at 3-9-0 which in those days was a good fish. It was a breathless young angler who arrived at The Bull Inn asking for the club scales. Thankfully the landlord was quite happy to join me on the river bank to weigh record and witness my catch. In fact that biggest tench won me a Daily Herald specimen fish certificate.

In those days 1953 the river Beault had a good record for big tench caught during the winter months. Probably one of the most successful and proficient tench anglers in those days was rod builder Mr Clarkson of Rochester, who had them to 5-8-0, truly a huge fish in those days. Should Mr Clarkson catch a tench, he would lay the fish on a roll of brown paper carried for the purpose, and then make a tracing of the fish as a record of his catch. There were many brown paper cut outs in his workshop.

Roach and a Surprise Pike

Another Christmas day was spent roach fishing on the River Medway at Teston in 1961; I caught 25 roach over the pound mark with the best fish weighing in at 2-2-0. I used a Clarkson built fifteen foot rod, Tonkin cane butt with split bamboo middle and top joints, matched with a Speedia centre pin reel and 3lb breaking strain line. I caught all my fish by Stret-pegging with bread flake, feeding with chicken egg size balls of mashed bread to keep the fish concentrated and feeding in my eight foot deep swim, a rod length out from a bank of sedges. It is a catch of roach that I will never forget. I must point out that Stret-pegging is not another name for Laying -on as written by some who should know better. Apart from Boz Simmonds a welder from Gravesend who caught some good roach, we were the only two anglers on the river bank that Christmas day.

Late in the afternoon I heard Boz shout "Bring your net", looking upstream I could see he was hooked up to something hefty that bent his stick and was pulling his string. After a long tough struggle Boz got the fish close enough for me to net, a pike, estimated at about 15-16 pounds that had grabbed one of his roach. At dusk when it was hard to see, we switched to Laying-on using a cycle lamp to illuminate the float. As we fished on into the darkness we started to catch the occasional bream of about 4lbs. Boz was the first to pack up about six o'clock, I followed an hour later arriving home about ten o'clock. My Christmas dinner was warmed up over a saucepan of boiling water. I didn't care as I had just had a super days fishing, and that's all that mattered.

Christmas Chub Catch 2009

This past Christmas holiday I had decided to fish the Rivers Kennet, Loddon, and Hampshire Avon at Britford with perhaps a day on the Wye or Bradford Avon. The weather leading up to the holiday was horrid, snow, ice covered much of the country, some rivers had ice down the margins, and occasionally I watched small ice flows on the River Ribble. Many of the countries still waters were completely ice covered. For several days, I studied the weather reports on various websites. I listened to the BBC weather forecasts with even more interest than normal. I was looking for hope, a warm south westerly wind bringing some warming rain, then hopefully the roads would be safe to travel on, and the fish would have a good appetite. Will Carter of Burfield Berks would call each day with the latest report of conditions on the River Kennet and the surrounding roads.

On Wednesday 23rd I decided I would travel south early on Christmas day morning, I made sure the screen washer was topped up, oil level and tire pressures checked. I had a spare can of oil, a bottle of screen wash and some de-icer. The car was packed with 2 sleeping bags, food for a week including frozen cottage pies and hot pots, cooking gear and a microwave oven. The latter I could plug into the cigarette lighter, though I do have to keep the engine running. Several one gallon bottles of water were added in case the water pipes were frozen. I packed lots of extra clothing; it wouldn't be the first time for me to take a dip in the river. Having spent time in Norway, Sweden and Finland dog sledding, ice fishing and hunting. I feel I have enough experience to cope should I get hit by a blizzard.

I packed tackle for chub, roach, pike and barbel, my bait list was ten balls of sausage meat, several balls of Wraysbury and Pallatrax soft paste baits, and the latter made from Pallatrax cheese sticks. I had ten loaves of stale bread to mash up for feeding. Early in the week I called Kevin at Tadley Angling ordering some boxes of worms, at the same time I called the Village Shop in Aldermaston asking them to get me three loaves of their white bread which Will Carter would pick up for me on Christmas Eve. I reckon white bread crust and flake are the two best baits you can have for winter chubbing in clear water and low temperatures.

Easy Drive South on Quiet Roads

I left home early on Christmas morning for the 230 mile trip south M6-M5- A417- A419 then the M4 to Newbury, first stop was the Wasing fishery on the Warren at King Bridge to check the water level and temperature, The river had a few inches with a temperature of 42 degrees F. It looked as if the chub would feed. I put the kettle on for a brew, as I waited for it to boil, I fed a robin some pieces of fruit cake, very quickly two blackbirds and another robin joined the feast.

Finishing off my tea, I mashed up some bread, then picked up a ball of sausage meat before heading off down river, at Cottage Bend a tree had crashed across the path, I made a detour though the trees, making a note to clear the obstruction. Back on the river bank I dropped three chunks of sausage meat into four well known barbel swims, Alice, Roots, Beeches and the Straights. Though the W/T was low I expected at sometime during the darkness for a barbel to show. Even on the coldest of days they will often feed if only for a very short session of perhaps ten to fifteen minutes. I then baited The Rockery, Hawthorn Bend, Bodsworth and the Big Oak swims with mashed bread and some hook size pieces of bread flake.

Chub Were Willing to Feed

I walked the Brimpton beat up to the weir pool, the Warren beat downstream to the salmon hut, looking for set lines or a poacher or poachers usually East Europeans. It was time to sort out my accommodation, this was quickly done. Within an hour, I was back on the river. Choosing to fish with a 12 foot Avon action rod, centre pin reel and 6lb line to which I tied on a size 6 hook, and then lightly pinched on three LG shot six inches from the hook. Baiting with a chunk of crust I made a long cast dropping the bait under a far bank alder tree. Within a minute I felt a light pluck, as I pushed the rod forward to give some slack, the line pulled tight, I set the hook into a fish which fought determinedly for a few minutes, using the fast water in its bid to escape. Soon I netted a fish about 3lbs. Scale and fin perfect, it looked as if it had just been freshly minted. As the fish went into the net I said to myself "Yes my first fish of Christmas"

In the next twenty thirty minutes I had four more chub one about a pound the others averaging three pounds. After an hour with no more bites I moved off to fish the Roots, half an hour later with no sign of a bite I moved too the Big Oak. I caught two small chub, an hour later, nothing but Signal crayfish plucks on sausage paste, crust and flake.I moved off to fish the Straights. I soon got some good plucks on sausage paste, defiantly fish but they wouldn't take the bait properly. It didn't matter how I timed the strike, I couldn't set the hook into a fish.

The nearest I got was when I had a good pluck then lifting the rod to feel if a fish had the bait, I felt some pressure setting the hook. A fish moved off powerfully downstream. "Barbel I thought". A minute later the fish was gone. As I was putting a fresh piece of paste on the hook, I noticed a scale on the point. It belonged to a barbel. By now the temperature had dropped well below freezing everything had a white covering of frost. The net was frozen to the bank. Despite the cold, I fished on until late in the evening without any more plucks, twitches or good pulls. I called it a day. Back at base sitting in front of the fire I dined on a pheasant hot pot, then it was off to bed

Eleven Good Chub

The next day I was up before dawn, after a bowl of porridge followed by tea and toast, I dressed up in warm clothing then headed off to the river, on the way I passed several still waters all ice covered. Parking the car in the Warren, I went off down river to remove the tree blocking the footpath at Cottage Bend. Half an hour with job finished, I went further downstream removing several large branches that were hanging rather dangerously from trees over the footpath. Then it was off to Tadley Angling to find a shop full of customers, a few words with Kevin then I was driving back to the river to the Woolhampton beat.

Finding the parking dodgy and not wanting to get stuck, I decided I wouldn't fish this beat. I returned to Warren and Brimpton beats. Walking both beats I dropped baits into various likely looking swims, then went and had a chat with Mike and his wife at Mill Cottage. Leaving with a freshly made turkey on brown bread sandwich, I planned to have this at teatime with a mug of 'Yorkshire Gold'

From noon until about five o'clock I roamed the river bank struggling for a bite, the fish didn't want to know. Later in the afternoon Will Carter joined me, still no bites. Will left about six o'clock, I decided on a move to another swim. With the water temperature settled at 42 degrees F I still felt I had a chance of hooking up to a barbel. Having chosen to fish the Rockery, I put six pieces of sausage paste in the swim. Then switched on the microwave oven to heat up my cottage pie.

Sitting under a large beech tree, I watched a Barn owl fly across the river then settle on a branch no more than fifteen feet away. Hopefully it would capture one of the many riverside rats. Ten minutes later I needed to get my dinner from the car; at the same time I didn't want the owl to take flight. Minutes later the owl decided to leave, I got my dinner.

I suppose I started fishing again about seven o'clock. Choosing to fish sausage meat for the first hour, if nothing happened I would try crust then bread flake. Within minutes I had two sharp taps on the rod tip followed by a slow pull, like one would get if some weed had drifted against the line. Striking I set the hook into a nice fish, soon a 4lb plus chub was in the net. I walked up river then released the fish in the next swim. Another chunk of paste was soon in position, I sat holding the rod, and all was peaceful. It was great just being at the waterside, and I was full of expectation.

I felt a light pluck then a good take. Fish number two was hooked, after a brief struggle it was in the net. A chub about the size of the first fish. Once again I released the fish upstream in the next hour I got four more fish all like peas in a pod. With six good chub to my credit, it was time for a mug of tea and a sandwich.

A Five Pounder

Back in my swim I sat holding the rod feeling for a bit as I did so owls were calling from all directions; in fact it’s been a long time since I have heard so many owls. Hearing a sound close by me I turned spotting a three deer. As I did so I felt a good pull on setting the hook the deer went of at a fast run, no doubt spooked. After a good scrap I netted a nice chub, lifting the net I realised I had a better fish, laying the rod down I grabbed the arms of the net and heaved, dragging the net up the bank to rest on my mat.

I could see I had a far better fish. 'That could be a five' I thought. Easing out the barbless hook I rested the net in the water, zeroing my scales and weigh net I moved the fish from net to bag then hoisted the fish and weigh bag on the scales. The needle settled between 5-3-0 and 5-4-0, I settled on 5-3-0 then punched the air saying "Yes" After a quick picture I watched the fish swim off strongly (See pictures) I In the next couple of hours I had four more good fish, missing just two bites, at ten o'clock I made another brew which I enjoyed with a beef and pickle sandwich. After a fifteen minute break I fished on until just before midnight. Then with no more action, not even a twitch on the line, I called it a day.

Next day I'm on the river early, as I sat enjoying a brew I listened to the weather forecast, it didn't sound good, the forecaster suggested blizzards could sweep across the West Midlands on Tuesday or Wednesday. I thought about the weather for ten minutes, and then decided to pack up and head off home. It was a horrendous journey taking over seven hours to travel 230 miles, the driving standards were terrible, in heavy rain often sleet many motorist didn't have any lights on, other were using fog lights. Some used the hard shoulder as a toilet. The number of drivers using mobile phones was disgusting. Sadly I didn't see more than one police vehicle. I was thankful when I parked my car in the garage.