A Festive Fishing Session

As in previous years my plan was to travel south, then fish the Rivers Kennet, Loddon and perhaps the River Avon near Salisbury. Before going off on my adventure, I had a busy session in the BBC studio putting together some programmes, then it was off to the bakery for 10 loaves of bread, into the butchers for 10 balls of sausage meat paste. Without these two baits I wouldn't feel happy. It would be like leaving the rods at home. Yes, I can buy a bag of boilies or pellets, but they wouldn't give me the confidence as the two previous mentioned baits. On this trip I had a very special guest Brian from Birmingham who had a few days leave before going off somewhere not knowing when he would be back in Blighty. My ambition was to help him catch a nice chub. I had just Christmas Day for this; in fact not quite true I had just a few hours before he was off to some airport.

Saturday evening with the car packed containing everything I would need, including plenty of home cooked meals. It was time to sit down for a couple of hours for a quiet read, I got lost in the battle of the Atlantic, my two hours turned into about four. I suppose it was10 o'clock in the evening when I set the alarm for 4 o'clock in the morning. Within five minutes of putting my head on the pillow I was asleep. It seemed as if I'd been in bed for a few minutes before the alarm sounded its strident note. Very quickly I was out of bed and into the shower, having got dressed I made a large bowl of porridge, followed by two rounds of buttered toast and a mug of tea. I was ready for the off.

At Preston I topped up with fuel costing just £1-31p a litre and not £1-35p in other garages, then it was on to the M6, just after the Macclesfield junction I got behind a motorist who would go from 30 - 60 mph, often on the hard shoulder then the middle lane. I stayed well back for about ten miles, then decided I should act. I stopped and called the police with the vehicle description and reg number. Some miles further down the M6 I noticed the motorist was pulled over. I was to learn later that he was over the drink drive limit. Thankfully no one suffered on this occasion.

Having met up with Brian in Birmingham we continued on our way, just before arriving in Newbury I spotted a garage with cheap fuel. I needed just 14.1 litres to fill the tank giving me 202 miles, now that's what I call a good fuel consumption. Also my road tax cost’s £20-00 a year. Soon we were at the waterside with the kettle on, as we waited for it to boil, I made up an Avon action rod, Mitchell 300 reel with 6lb line to which I tied on a size 4 hook. After a mug of tea with a slice of cake we were ready to go.

At the top of the beat where a feeder stream comes in I suggested to Brian he should cast a chunk of crust in the mouth of the stream, then allow the bait to trundle downstream taking in the slack line as it did so. Within minutes Brian had a Christmas Day chub, he was a happy guy. Netting the fish we weighed it, the scale needle went to 4lb 6 ounces. We shook hands, and then moved on to the next spot. This time I put him in the spot where I got Stuart a 5-10-0 chub early this year. By casting out about fifteen feet with just two LG shot on the line, the bait would move downstream a short distance then drag in close under an over hanging bush. Within a minute another chub was hooked. This fish weighed 4lb 14ounces, not quite a five but still a big fish.

Moving further downstream to a small wall lining the river bank Brian cast a chunk of crust out and downstream, within a couple of minutes another fish was hooked. A chub of 4lb 2 ounces. Arriving at the bottom of the beat with no more bites, we had some soup with crusty bread, followed by a fresh brew. Soon it was time for Brian to move on, it was a happy angler, an even more happy guide to send Brian on his way with three great chub under his belt after a couple of hours of peace and quiet in the English countryside. I felt proud to shake his hand, saying "Travel Safe" then with a lump in my throat I watched Brian drive away. Sometime in the future I will hopefully get a call to say "Are we going fishing"

It was time to go off and sort out my accommodation for the week and have a hot meal, I would be on the river perhaps until midnight, and even longer if the fish were feeding. On these sessions I often cover 2 miles of river bank in the darkness, fishing all the likely spots. I just love the darkness and the solitude. Accommodation sorted and a hot pot meal, I made a couple of sandwiches then headed off to the River Kennet.

My plan was to fish the top beat where Brian and me had been early is the day. After parking the car, I grabbed my tackle bag and made up rod then headed to the first swim. Dumping my tackle on the bank, I picked up the bucket of mashed bread then headed upstream to the top of the beat, feeding in a handful of mashed bread in all the interesting spots. Back in my first choice swim I grabbed a ball of sausage meat then moved off downstream walking the western bank putting in three or four pieces of paste in spots that took my fancy. Crossing the bridge I walked upstream putting in more pieces of sausage paste. I then spotted a beautiful roe deer; in fact it was no more than ten feet away. I get a special feeling walking the woods and river bank in the darkness, I see many deer including the munjac, passing an open field I spotted a barn owl quartering the field. Its a pity I couldn't communicate with that owl, I would have pointed it in the direction of some riverside rats. Several tawny owls could be heard hooting all around me, occasionally a pheasant crowed, perhaps disturbed by a fox. After my long walk I was back in my first choice swim ready to go.

Lightly pinching on 2 LG shot, I baited the size 4 hook with a large piece of crust then cast out to drop the bait underneath the branches of a far bank ivy clad tree, as I sat holding the rod I thought of other Christmas Days at the waterside, I well remember as a youngster catching tench from the River Beult, then I had to dash up to the Bull Inn where I told the landlord about my tench. He said "Let’s get the scales and weigh those fish for you". The biggest I think was 3lbs 8 ounces which won me the Winget's AC specimen fish cup. Suddenly I felt a savage pull, striking I hooked into a hard fighting fish. Several times it tried to get into the tree roots but the well balanced tackle was to be the winner. Soon a big chub was in the torch beam, then in the net. "Its mine" I said to no one in particular. I often talk to myself at the waterside. Out with the carrier bag and scales which were quickly zeroed. Sliding the fish from net into the bag I hoisted it on the scales. The needle went 5-12-0 then back to 5-10-0. Punching the air I shouted "Yes, a Christmas five pounder" It doesn't get much better that this. In the next couple of hours I had six more fish three fives 5-2-0 5-5-0 and 5-8-0 and two four pounders. I fished on until about ten o'clock and with no more fish I moved off well down river. Fishing several swims, with no bites or signs of fish. As the local church clock told me it was midnight. I packed up feeling well satisfied.


Boxing Day Disaster

It was near 11 o’clock in the morning when I decided to get up, a quick wash, then a change of cloths and I was ready for breakfast a bowl of porridge followed by tea and toast. Today I was going barbel fishing, though I wouldn’t complain if I caught chub. In fact I don’t mind what I catch, all I want to see is the rod being pulled round. I chose to fish a swim I hadn’t fished for several months it was one I had baited with some boilies the previous day.

Arriving in the car park I was pleased to find I had the river to myself. Sadly the water level was well down with a sluggish flow rate in many areas. I fear for the river and the forecast doesn’t bode well. I could have stopped at home and fished the River Rabble which does have a good height of water. With a strong flow. Having said that, if we go without rain for a couple of weeks its bare bones. After putting in a dozen boilies, I made up a running leger set up with a Stonze weight; this was stopped 10 inches from a size 8 barbless hook using a short hair so the double boily bait would be tight to the shank of the hook. Having got all my gear sorted out, I went off for a long walk down river to the bridge, then crossing over I walked up the opposite bank making a note of several interesting looking spots that had never been fished. No doubt the nettle and brambles had put the anglers off. I’m quite happy to get stung and scratched in the quest for fish. It’s all part of the game. Back at my chosen spot I put the kettle on for a brew. Adding half a dozen boilies too the swim.


During the afternoon session I had several barbel, nothing of note but they all pull the string and bend the stick. I suppose the best fish would have gone 6lbs. Around 4 o’clock I went off for dinner returning an hour later feeling fine, I also had some sandwiches for the long evening session. Baiting up with two boilies I wrapped some paste around them before casting well downstream so the bait was positioned under a large beech tree which had many of its branches hanging in the water. It looked a good spot for chub and barbel.

Sitting in the darkness listening to the owls hooting, an occasional pheasant crowing, munjac deer barking was idyllic. Life doesn’t get much better in late December with such fine weather. The only thing missing were a few days of heavy rain. Two hours into the session I had a slow pull on the rod tip, Pushing the rod forward I watched the bow in the line, as it tightened I set the hook into what felt like a good fish. It wasn’t a barbel but a chub that immediately moved upstream. I quickly gained line then soon netted a fish which looked like a good four pounds. Unhooking the fish I walked thirty or so yards upstream before releasing the fish.

Rebaiting I cast to the same spot under the beech tree, then added half a dozen boilies before putting on the kettle for a brew. An hour later the rod tip pulled round strongly, I set the hook into a powerful fish which moved off slowly downstream hugging the bottom as it did so. The clutch grudgingly giving line, I could feel I had a heavy fish, in fact I quickly realised that I had hooked a very good fish. I said to myself "If I didn’t make a silly mistake I wouldn't lose this fish". Slowly I gained line feeling more confidence as I slowly got the fish within reach of the net. Then I realised I had a problem. I was fishing off quite a high bank with a fast push of water on my side of the river.

As I got my first look at the fish it looked huge, far bigger than any other barbel I’ve caught. I estimated the fish between 14 and 15lbs. Drawing the fish upstream I allowed it to drop down to the waiting net. I had no chance the fish was a lot longer, than the width of the net, after six or seven attempts at getting the fish in the net; it was suddenly gone as the hook slipped. I was gutted. I just slumped in my chair. Later on having given a lot of thought on losing the fish, I realised I should have put the rod in my left hand using my stronger right arm to wield the net. If I hadn’t been on my own I reckon that fish would have been mine. Still that’s fishing I will have to try harder next time. The next day I went and got a larger net