From the water’s edge

April 2014 - Last gasp saviours

With the growing realisation that the easy days are behind us, and with the river season edging closer, we made a conscious decision to persecute our favourite and most reliable spots for the last few weeks. We have half a dozen bankers and the plan was and still is to work our way through them in turn until the glorious 16th allows us some respite from the rapidly increasing boat traffic.

There was obviously a temptation to revisit the scene of Terry’s triumph but we don’t take liberties when taken to other angler’s spots and in return we hope they will repay that restraint when we take them to ours. So far they always have. We all need those places we can resort to knowing that they have not been pressured to death any more than can be helped.

Our plan should have been a good one but for a long time, it certainly didn’t look or feel that way. We dibbled a couple of tiddlers out from beneath an old farm bridge before the boat traffic really got going, but takes were hard to come by. Going through the box brought the odd knock usually at the change of lure, but nothing that could be called definite or positive. We were trying hard, but the fish weren’t.

Spring was definitely in the air though. Flocks of clockwork ducklings were buzzing around snapping up flies, a woodpigeon squab, fresh from the nest was hiding in the verge, vulnerable for a while at least. If his luck holds, in a couple of days he will be on the wing and by July will be beating down and feasting on the farmers barley. If it doesn’t, he will be keeping a family of fox cubs fed for a day or so.

We plugged away as the temperature rose and the boat traffic increased. We walked a mile down hill and tweaked another couple from beneath yet another farm bridge, but it would be fair to say that while the toads might have been having it, the fish most definitely were not. Or maybe they were and feeding was not uppermost in their tiny minds, who knows.

We headed back to the pub and had an unsuccessful half hour below the main road. This had been a good spot in the past but recently it has produced nothing. I mentioned to Pete that this was the very first swim I ever cast a 3” hammer shad into. Back then it immediately produced fish to every colour I had been given to test, quickly endearing them to me and becoming my mainstay 3” lure.

I had no sooner finished bemoaning the way this swim had declined than we started to get  hits. Firmer hits than we had been getting all morning and on 3” hammer shads too, but they were still not taking them in far enough. We squeaked a couple of school zander apiece before it dried up again and the bolt went back on the alehouse door. It was time to leave the sunshine and the congestion to the boaters and head for the cool and dark of the saloon and some food.

I hope that you find my journal interesting and entertaining. If, having read this, you think that I am talking rubbish then at least you have stopped and thought about it long enough to come to that conclusion which is something of a result in my book. If you would like to comment on this article or anything else relating to my website, please feel free to contact me using the adjacent form. Feedback is always greatly appreciated and very helpful when it comes to improving both my site and my angling. Thank you for looking.

artificial lite

journal 2014.





journal 2014.

journal 2013.