Eventful adventure but the target fish escaped us

Yesterday I went out with Woody to a new river, to me at leastanyway. He phoned me mid week to ask if I fancied an adventure. Silly question as I love going new places. He then dropped it to me where it was, and mentioned the zed word, Zander. I don't know what I was more excited about, the brand new river or the chance of a zed. I was a bit giddy for the rest of the week.

I arrived at Woodys house at around 5:20am. It's the first time I'd been to his house and I managed to find it on the second pass, his house is tucked in a little cul-de-sac off the main road. I pulled in to find the road was tiny so I had to spin the car around, half in someone's drive. At least at that time no one would see me. I then struggled to park as the small road was full of cars, plus Woodys car and boat but I found a space next to a fence. his house lights were on and then Woody popped his head out of the front door. He invited me in, we had a quick brew and he also plonked in front of me his iPad and a video of Matt Hayes from Youtube. A great video and it got the juices flowing for certain. We chucked my gear in his car and then I moved mine around to another spot where Woody said it would be better and then we were off. A good couple of hour drive was in front of us, which I don't mind though the only problem with this is it's fishing time wasted. We'd just have to work harder to make the most of our time when we got there. We'd only been on the road an hour when Woody got a call from his missus Becky to tell him that I'd been slagged off on Facebook for parking on a private drive, that I was this far from getting a ticket from the local self proclaimed wannabe traffic warden. Ha ha, some people are sad. They need to get fishing in their lives and chill the feck out! A bit of drama to start with but the day was going to have more events than a few saddos on Facebook. Straight on to drama number two. We were plodding along the motorway when out of the corner of my eye I see a low flying Wood pigeon. They are often a bit slack as it is but this one had decided to low fly across the motorway. At the last second it swerved to miss the car on our outside in the middle lane. It missed the drivers window by a fraction, up and over that car, but the wind and slipstream caused of that just car sucked it back down the other side and then straight in to the drivers window of our car. Of course Woody hadn't seen it and it had him shitting his pants, to my amusement of course. His window was also open about three inches, how funny would it have been if that thing had flown straight in? Me and Woody frantically doing our best to stop Tike from running around the car trying to catch a pigeon, ha ha!

Pulling up to the boat launch we were now excited. But our first thoughts after checking out what the river looked like were that the ramp was a little steep and the funny angle meant there wasn't much room for mistake as if we got it wrong the trailer would run off the edge of a tight angled, steep short ramp. First attempt saw us slightly wrong and so we had to get the car up the ramp again. The wheels span and it didn't look good, arse cheeks squeezed firmly and it was back for another run up. This time we got it right and I shoved the boat off. All aboard and we were all set for our little adventure though we both knew that getting out might be a little tricky especially if we get some rain later in the day.

We had a little troll of the light lures a few hundred meters down to the bottom of this stretch of river. There was a weir and also some lock gates which we wanted to have a jig around and that's where we were heading. I wasn't targeting a zander, the new river was enough excitement for me but I would love to catch one. Woody had zeds on the brain and wanted to get us both in on the fish, obviously any zed for me was a pb and that was his target. We pulled up at a fishy looking spot and got on with tying up the boat. Woody dropped down a kopyto and started to make it dance. There was a knock and his rod tip was bent and he was in to a fish. Is it a zander? We couldn't help but think that way as it's all we'd talked about. I grabbed the net and watched as the fish kept yanking away and putting a bend in the rod. We were in a small area and there wasn't much room so often the fish was under the boat, even the rod was bent under the boat sometimes so we never saw the fish which just added to the excitement. Eventually up it popped,  a small jack. Grrr! We both knew that there was far more chance of us catching our usual prey of pike and perch but you can't help getting excited at the thought of something different. Jigging this spot we picked up a few perch also before moving off thirty yard or so to jig another bit. Again more perch until we moved the next thirty yard where the fish finder showed a mass of black, a ball of fish? This ball seemed to move around so we knew something was here. The something turned in to more perch, they were everywhere. Small ones, half decent ones right up to around ten ounce or so. There must surely be a bigger perch or two here but after half an hour or so it went quiet and we'd not found them.

The plan now was for a steady troll up river to see what was ahead of us. We knew it was a half decent stretch but that we would cover it easily in the time we had so we wanted to get up it, see what fish we could pick up and then target the weir at the other end. There was a very strong flow to the river and this meant it was a bit of a struggle for the boat going up stream. A bit of wind had picked up which added to this but we didn't mind too much as we've fished in worse and caught. It was a little slow but we did keep picking up the odd perch and then every now and again a small pike. We expected to see more anglers on the bank but there was only a handful up to now. They can be a hazard to us trolling as often they are tucked in to some bushes out of sight. We come past trolling out our long lines, they have a couple of rods out and long lines out and then we all end up in a pickle if the lines cross. As we passed one angler, we were sure we were far enough away for this not to happen. But I had a knock which turned out to be nothing other than something on my line that wasn't a fish. As I started to bring my lure in I saw fishing line. I looked across to the bank angler and he wasn't grabbing for his rods at least. I ended up pulling in about sixty yards of strong line with a feeder on the end but no hook link. How the hell this had happened I don't know. The rig looked new and also like it had been done by someone who knew what he was doing. I tied up all the line into a ball and chucked it in my bag to get rid of later.

With the weir in sight, we'd not fared too well and thought we should have had more fish but didn't know why we hadn't. Anyway now we had the lock gates and the weir to have a go at. There were a couple of anglers around which meant we couldn't fish all of the weir but the lock was fair game and this is where we went first. I moored us up and we got to fishing a fast bit of water around the gates, with a couple of slack spots off it including a good slack right at the gates though we weren't quite on that bit yet. Woody was in to a perch in no time which was a bit better than what we'd been having though of nothing of notable size. I too got in to the perch and again a half decent one at that. I got Woody to take a photo since by now I was thinking we were having a slow day and I needed something for the blog at least.

Having given this bit of water some stick we decided to give the gates some hammer but this meant getting up close with the boat and holding in the slack water. Sat afloat just before the lock gates we both looked up and the gates were huge. We passed comment on how we needed to stay sharp and get out of there if we thought there was to be a boat coming our way as we wouldn't want to be there when the gates opened. Jigging around we picked up more perch including a few half decent fish, similar sized as before. There was then a strange noise. I can't actually remember what I heard, a squeal, an alarm, someone banging drums. I can just remember me and Woody looking at each other. I think we both thought, what the fuck? We both also then thought, there's a boat in that lock. I presume most people know why and how a lock gate works but just to highlight on the important bit. We were below the lock gates. If those gates were closed and full of water a boat from upstream can enter, then be lowered and come out our side on the downstream section. However the gates don't just open as that would be thousands of gallons of water being thrown out and a boat riding a massive wave. Instead the water comes out below and lowers the craft gently. Problem being, we were right where the water came out. All of a sudden the water below us started to bubble and boil. We were already getting our rods in at the point we heard the alarm but we were too slow. The boat started to move around and as Woody tried to put the power on and get us out it had little affect. We were riding a massive boil of water, it was churning up at an immense rate and we were in the shit. Apart from panic there wasn't much I could do except panic though I was also watching the back end of the boat to keep an eye out for bubbling water coming up and over the lowest point of the boat. Woody could only panic as he tried to get some control of the boat and some control over himself as he panicked. We finally were out of it after a combination of the boat taking us out and the water forcing us out, though we both know that it was way more the part of the water. You can laugh after an event like that but at the time it was very much arse clenching time. Make note if you are a boat fisherman for future reference.

Very windy day on the river

Next we had a go at the weir. We tried to get as close as was safe, especially with thoughts of our last episode very fresh in our heads. We tried in vain to get in and fish some of the faster water and any slacks but the force was too much and after a while we gave up. We fished plenty of the area with little success to be honest and eventually made our way back downstream, trolling as we went along. We actually started to pick up a few fish and downstream we seemed to be getting more fish than we did coming upstream. We also noted it was far easier to get the lures down than before and that the boat was hardly having to do anything, on minimum revs and we were fishing much better like this. The only thing against us now was the wind from before was now much much worse. In fact we might have been better with a sail than a motor. I took some photos to try and show how bad it actually was but even this picture doesn't look as rough. At least us going with it all instead of against it all was a little easier. We kept on trolling the light lures and as we passed a tree Woody was doing something, I can't quite remember what, maybe getting a sausage roll. He had his rod wedged in his legs to free up his hands. I just managed to look up at the right point as his rod was smacked by something and arched right over. Woody frantically grabbed the rod and it was fish on. Immediately he knew something was different and I wound in my lure and grabbed the net. As the fish came close we both spotted a huge chub. We knew we had a chance of one here and finally we had it. The fish wasn't finished and it wasn't quite ready for the net. I mentioned the current on this river was strong earlier but didn't really say how strong. I also mentioned the wind by now was strong and again hadn't really emphasised the point. We were steadily speedily drifting and as the chub came close it made one last dash, right under the boat and right under the propeller. Woody cut the engine but was fractionally too late and the fish was off and not only that his line was caught in the prop. I dropped anchor so that we could safely sort out the mess but the anchor did little except slow us down, it wouldn't bed in to anything because presumably the river bed was just soft. At one point it held up and we were actually ok but then next time I looked we were off again. We were pushed downstream at an alarming rate, easily a couple hundred meters but at least we weren't right in the middle and there was no other boat traffic about. We got sorted about a hundred metres up from a couple of bank anglers. There wouldn't have been much we could do as we drifted past, trolling the anchor and pulling in their rods!

Getting back to fishing we decided to give a bit of a stretch some stick with a new tactic. By now, even with the strong current and winds Woody had seemingly mastered it to a degree at least. We had some sense of control as we drifted down and our new tactic was to drift and throw jerk baits in all the likely looking weedy spots, under over hangs, slack spots anywhere and everywhere. However this turned out to be pretty fruitless with just one jack to the boat. So back to trolling again we picked up the odd fish and before long we were nearly back at the bottom of the stretch. We'd been back up certain stretches along the way so it wasn't just a straight return trip and so now it was late afternoon. It was time to hit the lock gates we'd had a bit of fun with the perch this morning in the hope something decent might be there.

Mooring up it was to be the same tactics, simply jigging our kopytos. I cast out and slowly started to twitch it back. Typically in perch fashion I felt a nip, then another and then Bang! "I'm in mate" I said and then in no time it turned to "it's a decent perch I reckon." Woody was sorting the net just in case while I had a bit of a battle with something on the other end of the line. As it got close it then went mental and my rod was bent double. Still confident it was a perch by the fight I was now thinking BIG perch. It then came up and gave us a flash of spikes and stripes and we knew it was good. You can now add the usual knee trembling moments you get when you see a big perch on the end of your line. The next time it came up it was in the net, result! Another brute of a perch to the boat after last week when Woody grabbed one just short of three. I didn't think it was quite three but it was a long fish and Woody sorted the scales out while I unhooked and then left it in the net to get some oxygen. It went 2lb 12oz and I was chuffed with that.


After some trophy shots I thought I'd put the fish back in the net to make sure it was fine. As I turned a voice from a moored up canal boat asked "what fish was that?". A lady and he man were sat having a cup of tea on their moored up canal boat and I'd not even noticed them before. With my attention distracted I lost co-ordination somehow and as I went to put the fish in the net I slipped and nearly went in head first. The fish went in the net and I clung to the side of the boat with just half my arm getting wet. Jeez, can we have any more dramas? We told the lady it was a perch and she chuckled at me nearly falling in and then watched on as we put the fish back and then proceeded to catch more perch though none anywhere near as big. Moving on and mooring up in another bit we pretty much chilled out for a bit. We were in a sun trap, out of the raging wind and current and it was actually quit nice now, though just in this corner. We weren't particularly catching much but it was good to just relax a little. I was casting around the kopyto, often you'll bump the bottom and you have to work out if it was the bottom, weed, or a fish. As my kopyto came to the surface it was missing a tail. I must have had a nip from something so I put on a new lure and cast out in hope of a fish. As I did so spotted Tike take a snap at the lure as it swung past his nose. Having watched him do this through the day I was now wondering if it was a fish that had bit my lure in half or the crazy dog. When I asked him him declined to comment. Hmm?

Back to trolling we gave the lower stretch a bit of stick and got a few more fish out. Woody hooked in to something half decent, especially on the light gear which after a good scrap turned out to be a pike of seven or eight pound which was a good way to finish the day. By now the wind was mental and any up stream travel was a little rough and wet. As he turned to make a last attempt for home came the final drama of the day. Woody's cap went flying off as the wind took a hold and before we knew it was drifting off yards away. Coming up behind us was a large canal boat which was actually tramming quite fast and heading for the hat. Woody span the boat and cranked the motor to full speed. I jumped and grabbed the net and we sped off to intercept the hat before the canal boat sent it to the depths. I had to treat this netting job as a 4lb perch or an any sized zander, there had to be no mistake and I had just one shot at it. Get in, as we sped past I scooped it up and Woodys Rapala Cap was saved. We now just had the tricky task of getting the boat back up the ramp. We decided to empty everything out of the boat and leave it to one side to save on weight. Second attempt and we were lined up nicely and we winched on the boat. As Woody let off the clutch, the wheels span briefly but we were off and up. I reckon it was mainly down to me though since I also put my shoulder in to it giving the car a helpful nudge. As most of you will have seen I'm naturally a big lad and it's my natural strength that played the big part. The car was loaded up and we were on our way, with Woodys Cap clamped firmly in the boat's fish finder clamp flapping away to dry off in the breeze as we went. We talked about our day, the positives and the negatives and the lack of zander action which was a pity. We weren't too disappointed but it was a shame as I've never even seen one up close. We might have to do some more homework and go off in search of them again in the near future.

2lb 12oz perch

Perch and a lecture

Yesterday I was out for some fun with the light gear again, back to my new spot where I'd found a few fish. I was hopeful of some perch and possibly a chub again. I even took a few slices of bread to feed in while I was there. The idea being that I got lucky with the four pounder the other day, but maybe a bit of a feed with some floating bread might give me a clue to where some chub were hiding. I kept a feed going in every now and again hoping to see a big slosh as a chub took the bait and gave up its position. I never saw an actual lump of bread taken, but I saw a big swirl out of my eye corner, something was about in my swim. However I think I know what it might have been as a little later something showed it's head, there were salmon in my swim!


Now I haven't got a salmon license so I wasn't going to be fishing for them, but I was using lures and they were right in front of me, right where my target of perch were too. If I was to hook one it wouldn't be my fault now would it? Then again, quite what I would do with a twenty pound salmon on the end of my little greys rod I dare not imagine. Truthfully I didn't expect to get one but admit to getting a little excited at the thought. Then just a few short casts later, right where the salmon had been, bang! The end of my rod flips round and I'm shitting myself that this is going to tare arse off in to the distance.

It was a perch! lol. I think I was gutted but also relieved. I bagged a few more perch as the session went on with some good lookers among them. Nothing big but then I was just happy to be out and catching. Again I caught on cranks, spinners and jigged soft baits. I had to work for it, sometimes having to jig my kopyto down in to the gaps between rocks where the perch were hiding. It made it great sport and each fish I had to earn. I also had a small pike take my lure at one point, though it wasn't exactly as planned. I managed to hook a stick and then the said stick and my spinner came to the surface. As they both broke the surface a crazy little pike crashed in to them. No matter what I tried with the lures I couldn't get the pike to take one, maybe I should have put some trebles on that twig?

As the sun was starting to get low in the sky three young lads of around 17-19 years old turned up to fish. I'd moved a little lower down by now and it seems I was fishing where they wanted to get and after a quick chat they moved on. They told me they had come back for more of yesterday where they had a couple of pike, one was so huge it snapped him off. My immediate thoughts were that they had not been snapped but bitten off. I'd also noted the empty packet of spinners on the floor when i got to this swim, so I know where that came from now. I fished for ten or fifteen minutes thinking of another bunch of clueless idiots fishing with the wrong gear. I then started to question myself. What the hell am I going to do about it? Just carry on fishing and then go home and slag off another set of numpties without doing anything about it?

Some fishermen are numpties and deserve a good slap and all their gear taking off them, but who am I to judge who is and isn't, maybe these lads just didn't know any different? I decided to have a walk up to them and see what they were up to. Try to have a friendly chat, spy on their gear and then go from there. When I got there they'd had the odd perch they said and it soon became apparent they didn't have any decent kit, or much of a clue about lure fishing. They wanted to catch a few fish but were no where near tackled up how they needed to be. I saw my opportunity when one of the lads mentioned his line. It looked like 25lb mono to me and it cast his small lure about fifteen feet on his lump of a fibreglass sea fishing rod.

"You want some of this braid on lads, you won't half notice a difference" I explained. I tried to give them some knowledge without sounding like I was lecturing them. I think I got it right as they seemed interested. I offered the lad a go with my set up. I explained the many advantages of braid over mono. That you are directly in contact, there's no stretch and so you feel everything. Rocks, branches, weed, leaves, fish nipping at the lure. Add to that, when a pike hits the lure you feel it straight away rather than the stretch of the mono cushioning the take. I put on a crank lure that I knew had a good wobble to it. The lad cast out and was amazed at how different it felt. The other lads had a go and they all agreed it was much better.

I now had a few questions thrown at me and I tried to add some stuff of my own without complicating things and without lecturing. One thing that was totally apparent was the need for a wire trace. I don't know why, but the lads had a ten inch long length of braid...yes braid...as a trace. I explained this was no good and that they must use a wire trace or they would lose and kill loads more fish.

They seemed good lads. At the end of the day they were not long out of nappies and obviously never been shown the right way to do things. I doubt they're going to rush out and buy all the best tackle since it was apparent they had other things on their minds, such as women and beer. But at least if they get some traces sorted for next time, get some braid and maybe even a better lure rod from a second hand shop I told them to pay a visit, they will not only catch more fish but more of them will live on to become future river monsters. At least I feel better about it. Had I just gone home and ignored them/cursed them then not only am I making it worse I'd have felt bad for not giving it a go.

Not just the fishing that's dried up

Before the week started I was ready for a bit of fishing. Working the afternoon shift meant I'd get plenty of time in before work. Monday came and I found myself sat watching daytime TV to pass the time. Why the hell wasn't I fishing?This happened on Tuesday, Wednesday and so on.

It's been scorchio out there this week and that hasn't really put me in the mood for fishing. Every person I've met has said to me "lovely weather for fishing" and I suppose it is if you're sat on a comfy chair behind a rod. But when your trudging along riverbanks and constantly casting it's a bit too much of a work out. I love fishing but I'm not stupid (in my opinion, others may disagree). Another reason I didn't get out was simply because of fish welfare. I tend to mainly fish for pike and they don't do too well in the hot weather and low oxygen levels that it brings. I had other options but opted for lazing around watching documentaries about sharks, volcanoes and all the fishing programs I had recorded.

I did manage a couple of short visits though. You lot know that I couldn't go a full week without throwing a lure at a toothy water wolf. I waited for my shift to end and then I had a few cheeky chucks. It was late by now and not far off dark so I didn't have long but I managed a few pike. Most were around the five pound mark with one exception and that was a fish of about eleven pounds. It got me my fix and helped me through a crap week at work.

Saturday came and it was much cooler. A bit of cloud cover rather than clear blue skies and it made me think again about getting out to fish. However the missus had other plans and I found myself wandering around clothes shop after clothes shop. It was crap, none of them had clothes for fishing just stuff you'd expect to find teeny bopper wannabes wearing. I need a new fishing T-shirt too, so someone missed out on a sale there. I finally got home and spent an hour chilling in the garden playing fetch with my dog and as the clock approached 5pm I had formulated a plan. I needed to go fishing.

I managed to keep all thoughts of chasing aggressive pike at bay and convinced myself a steady ultra light session together with a venture along a new stretch was what I wanted to do. I'd fished a new weir pool earlier in the year and today I was going to hit it again and see what else was lurking. I also wanted to go up river from the weir and fish some overhanging willows hoping I could find a chub or two. So armed with one box of lures I was off. The weir pool has a couple of pegs so I was going to fish those then move off to see what the rest of the river had in store. Upon arriving at the weir pool I was met with something I wasn't expecting. Something that would make me change my plans all together.


The weir had dried up. There was no water racing over the top. The whole weir was bone dry and all the rocks below it were exposed. I could walk all the way across the river except for one ten foot wide gully where the water was racing through. I could now fish places you wouldn't normally be able to fish, I had the whole weir pool to target and it looked too good an opportunity to miss.

Where is the water?

I covered loads of water using all sorts of small lure. Kopytos, spinners, little cranks and glide baits and I didn't get so much as a knock. I was gobsmacked. I expected a perch at least but there was potential for pike, chub and even trout here. There was the odd fish surfacing but that was it apart from loads of fry hiding in an among the rocks. Actually I did get a few follows from fish. The fry kept following in the lures even though the lure was about five times the size of the fry. Anyway, I hadn't come here for pike but it was time to put a pike lure on and at least try and get something. A small jack would be very welcome right now.

Even though I have my light outfit I can still chuck a 13cm savage gear lip lure and since I know this lure catches pike I always have one with me so if I'm out and I see a pike follow a small lure or I see one chasing fish I can have a crack at it. Third cast and a few cranks and I'm in. Smart move old lad, you've just saved a blank and got yourself a little jack. The fish thrashed on the surface a while and ripped a bit of line off as the clutch was set light. It then charged towards me and gave me a bit of a run around before eventually I got a glimpse.

Shit, it's a frigging chub get the net! I clambered across rocks to where I'd left it, making sure not to fall in. I was glad the rocks were bone dry as if they're slightly damp I wouldn't have been anywhere near here as it would be too slippery. I pulled the chub into a bit of slack water between some rocks and slid the net under. What a result, it looked a beauty of a chub, and on a big lure too. I couldn't believe I'd covered all that water with the smaller lures and nothing and then as soon as I stick on a big lure I'm in. The phone rang and so I left the chub to sulk in the net while I took the call. It was Woody phoning to fill me in on his day out on the boat. It was another half decent, but steady day on the boat but he and Graham had bagged over forty fish between them, a good day is that. I told him I had a chub of about three and half pounds waiting in the net so he left me to sort it out.

I clambered back on to the weir sill and got a few photos before putting the chub back in the net and in to a shallow rock pool for it to recover. It was ready in no time and didn't need any nursing like a pike would have done after that battle. I remembered I'm usually crap at guessing the weight and it was a chunky, wide fish so I got the scales out and was chuffed when it went just over four pound. I'm happy with that. A gorgeous, healthy chub.

I gave the area some more stick but got nothing so moved off the weir sill and the rocks and moved downstream to fish the back end of the pool. Again, it was tough and I managed naff all. It was now knocking on a bit and my original plan was to go upstream of the weir and check out the over hanging willow trees. However I decided to ditch that idea and go back on to the rocks at the weir, there had to be more fish there.


I started with my small lures again hoping for some perch and eventually I was rewarded when I started to get some fun. I took small perch on a few different lures, kopytos, spinners and one of Mark Houghtons little "chunky minnows" and it made for a good bit of fun. Finally a few fish from a spot I expected to catch. A little later the surface came alive with fish taking flies off the top. Most probably I guessed small chub but every now and again something larger would take something, though I couldn't make out what they were. Needless to say I tried every lure in the box to try and tempt them but couldn't get anything of size to take. I then managed to get in on the small chub, again on a few lures which was good. I decided to call it a day and head back to the car as I had a bit of a trek ahead of me. It was a good few hours out on the river, all by myself except for the wildlife, brilliant!