It Was A Good Day - But Not For Roach

Following my last item, I left you with the idea I would be fishing for roach the next day, sadly not. Tuesday on the River Ribble was horrid, a gale force wind rain showers and quite cold. On my next trip I will be wearing a fleece. Yes, I’d planned to target roach but this ghastly downstream wind wasn’t suitable for float fishing, where I wanted a careful presentation so often needed for roach, I chose instead to fish for chub and barbel. Again I was lucky to have the stretch to myself. Probably anglers were put off by the weather. After walking the full length about 2 miles I met up with John an old friend, after chatting about our families we went our separate ways. I chose to fish a swim in the wood where I had about 8 feet of water, to make the swim even more interesting, I had a large beech tree lying at an angle from the bank going out into the river and downstream. I reckon the fish would be in and around that tree, as it would offer cover against cormorants.

Back at the car I put the kettle on for a brew while glancing through the Anglers Mail, soon I had a mug of tea with a couple of biscuits. Then got kitted out in some warm clothing. I must say if you get the chance of an army smock take it with both hands they are great for warmth, also when I am doing surveillance at night, no one has a chance of seeing me. Into my carryall bag I put 4 pints of hemp some cheese and sausage paste along with a loaf of bread. Passing my arms through my ruckbag I got it settled on my shoulders, then with carryall in one hand, rod holdall in the other I trudge about 1000 yards upstream to my chosen spot.

My first job deposit 2 pints of hemp and some cheese paste hook baits into the swim just upstream of the fallen beech tree; the idea was to draw the fish away from the sunken branches out into the open water. I was virtually dropping the bait dropper into the previous spot making sure all the hemp was in a tight area, I then put 4 droppers of cheese paste on top of the hemp. Putting together an Avon action rod, centre pin reel with 4lbs line, I tied on a size 4 barbless hook then pinched 3 LG shot 15 inches from the hook. After sorting out my chair and placing everything to hand plus my landing net, I was already to go.

Now this is where I reckon many anglers make a mistake, they start to fish. I don't I headed off to the car where I sorted out my lunch of cottage pie, No doubt your thinking "I couldn't fancy eating cold cottage pie". I didn’t by just plugging in my Wave Box; I soon had a hot meal. It’s a microwave oven which I can use at home or at the waterside, I just clip the leads to the battery or plug into the cigarette lighter. Last winter I was often on the river bank from early morning until gone midnight with plenty of hot food and drink. A contented and warm angler is a successful one.

Lunch over with a leaden grey sky seeming to get lower by the minute I locked the car then making my way upstream to my chosen spot, On my backside I quietly slipped down the 8 foot high bank, I could have gone upstream then walked down to the swim giving the fish a chance of seeing me. I preferred the former. Once settled in it felt an over coat warmer. Baiting with a walnut chunk of soft cheese paste I made an under hand cast dropping the bait with a light plop just upstream and three feet out past the baited spot. This allowed the bait to fall slightly downstream and backwards, hopefully dropping among the free samples, or the fish if they have moved in, which I find they often do when you leave the spot alone for an hour or longer.

I sat holding the rod thinking how nice it would have been to fish with float tackle for the roach, I was quickly back to the job in hand as I felt a light pluck, then a determined pull striking I felt the head shaking of a fish as it turned downstream for the sanctuary of the tree roots. I just held fast, soon the fish moved outwards. After a bit of a struggle, I netted a chub about 3lbs. Placing the net in the water I left the chub for a few minutes, I didn’t want it back in the river straight away to spook other fish that might be in the swim. Another piece of paste was cast out. Ten minutes later a good pluck, soon chub number 2 was in the net the size of the first. In the next half an hour I had three more chub all roughly the same size. Throwing in a dozen more pieces of cheese paste, I made another cast. Fifteen minutes without a bite, I changed to a bit of crust. Half an hour later I struck off the crust watching it pop to the surface downstream of me among the branches of the fallen tree

Barbel

I then decided to change to sausage paste which I find to be excellent bait, twenty minutes later I checked the bait, and it wasn’t touched. I rebaited casting the bait a bit closer to the submerged branches still nothing. I went back to cheese paste in the hope the chub might have moved back. Within ten minutes the rod tip whacked round, I didn’t need to strike, the fish was hooked I new immediately I had a barbel. After a good scrap that only barbel give I netted a fish about 7lbs it was unhooked then released. I chucked in 4 bits of cheese followed by a baited hook, I didn’t have to wait long, probably 5 minutes then the tip pulled round savagely barbel number 2 was soon in the net about 5lbs. In the next hour I had 6 more fish between 4 and 6lbs. As is often the case not a bite for the next twenty or more minutes. Time for a brew, but before I did so, I used bait dropper to put in another couple of pints of hempseed, followed by a dozen pieces of cheese, then it was off to the car. The wind had increased strongly swinging round to a more north westerly direction with the occasional heavy shower often with hailstones. After a mug of tea and some biscuits I was ready to face the elements.

A Big Perch
Back in the swim I sat holding the rod waiting for a pluck; suddenly ten feet out close the fallen tree a small fish jumped clear of the water, followed by an impressive swirl. I glimpsed the top of a prickly dorsal fin. “Bloody hell that was a big perch” I said to myself. This was a bit of a shock; I hadn’t seen a perch on this length of river for more that 20 odd years. Several miles downstream there are a good head of perch. I cursed to myself in not having any gentles or lobs. If I’d got a small whip in the car I could have caught a small fish then fished it sink and draw. Throwing in some bits of bread I watched the small fish attack it like a bunch of piranhas.

Rebaiting I made another cast soon a barbel about 4lbs was netted, quickly followed by another fish of the same size. All the time my eyes are on the water where I had seen the prickly dorsal fin, but no more sign of this fish. I had one more barbel then nothing, but my interest was on that perch, in fact I was getting obsessed with it, I then heard the sound of swirling water a few feet downstream I could see ever increasing circles spreading across the surface. “That’s the perch” I thought. With the darkness enveloping me I made my way back to the car for a bowl of soup and the Archers.

Back in my swim I fished on for an hour, not a bite or any fish movement, it was time to go home. As I packed up I had one thought in my mind “That perch”. I would be back at the first opportunity. I wanted that fish. Today Thursday after seeing my doctor and being told my kidney problem had got worse, the nurse took some more blood to be sent for testing. Only having one kidney is a constant worry though I can’t do much about the problem. So I just keep on fishing. That’s what I did after leaving the doctors I was back on the River with an extra two feet of cold dirty muddy water. No chance today of perch, I thought but I fished until lunchtime without any sign of fish. I packed up getting buffeted by the wind rain and hail as I made my way back to the car.