Warwickshire Avon - Pokémon GO, nothing to see here.

I hadn’t a clue what the Wife was on about the other day when she mentioned the recent worldwide obsession with the Pokémon GO app but after she showed me the app on her iphone and the Pokémon’s you have to find over that weekend I discovered (like always) she was right.

We had a journey in to Stratford-Upon-Avon with the kids with the great unwashed and when upstairs on a Johnsons’ double decker if you look hard enough you can spot those playing it.

Yes really….is it only me that cannot see what all the fuss is about.

Sam the youngest thinks it’s brilliant.

The authorities not so….

Japan is asking for the Fukushima nuclear exclusion zone to be classified as a no go area for Pokémon after the discovery of at least one of the game’s characters on a power station site.

South Koreans are flocking to a remote regions holocaust museum, naive New Zealanders led to Hell’s Angels clubs and police stations filled with players. It has also caused car accidents, impromptu flash-mobs in the middle of New York streets and people to walk into the sea in pursuit of some of the more rare creatures.

You really cannot make it up….

As someone apart from this blog doesn’t engage in social media if it wasn’t for the wife I’d still be immune to this recent phenomenon.

But I was wrong, unpacking the tackle from the car….

“Excuse me”

“Hiya”

“Any Pokémon’s round here” “Apparently there is a couple of Squirtle’s”

“Sorry, not got a clue what you are on about”

So coming soon to a river bank near you….FFS

So for this quick evening session I settled in to a swim that I’d fished before where I’d seen a Barbel roll, it’s also one of the quickest accessed pegs on the stretch which is handy when I’m usually on the clock for most of my sessions.

This stretch is relatively shallow but this swim under a overhang it’s usually deep, well nothing like above the weir where some appear bottomless, but it’s all relative.

I had some caster I had to use up so I dropped some with some added hemp and small pellets, had a natter to some passing swim and bank keepers, re-dropped and then let the swim settle for a good half an hour. I also added a handful of boilies to the swim as the fake casters on the hair was swapped for a couple of them.

Again the banks were deserted, as was the carpark, all to myself again.

With the rod now in and just over an hour from dusk it was sit back and wait….

The first bite came quick, tap, snatch, grab, great a Chub in the swim and eventually it hooked itself, not the biggest but welcome all the same.

Re-baited and back in the swim….

10 minutes later, tap, tap, whammmm !!!!! the centrepins ratchet working overtime.

That ain’t not Chub, a Barbel was on.

It must have shot off downstream quick because when I picked the rod up the fish was 5metres to my right. They do fight well these Barbel but I knew It wasn’t anything of size. Most welcome though considering they have be elusive up to now on this new club water. It was quickly landed, rested in the net, photographed and returned.

I didn’t bother weighing it but felt something like 5lb, maybe a nadger over. Pristine condition too.

With dusk approaching I started to pack up and again a similar bite on the rod and a fish taking line, this time though it was a Chub imitating a Barbel, a little larger this one but as it wrecked the swim and the light fading I called it a day.

An enjoyable short session, I should do more of these.

Warwickshire Avon – 28 Days Later

Sunday morning, deserted banks, what’s going on….

It was eerily quiet, remember the the British post-apocalyptic film 28 days later ? Captive chimpanzees infected with the highly contagious rage virus were released by animal liberation activists and go on the rampage.Anyway the main character Jim awakens from his coma in St Thomas’ London to find the entire hospital deserted. He wanders the streets of London finding it deserted as well.

It was felt like that….

Where was everybody?

Well it’s tough fishing that’s why, but as I had the choice of swims it was a matter of roving around to try and find some fish.

I started at the weir which looked as inviting as tax forms, odd for a weir isn’t it but after putting the float through a number of times it was time to move on. Maybe when it’s up and the water has some pace I will try again but it looked largely devoid of fish.

I moved downstream but again despite trying a 3 or 4 swims there wasn’t much going on. Right, let’s find some fast water.

I found a cracking swim which was around 2 foot deep and allowed a reasonable trot down through some streamer weed.

With ones polarised cocoons after loose feeding some hemp, small pellets and bread through the swim eventually the tell-tale black backs of summer Chub could be seen. They were very cagy too, the bigger fish were tucked away under some thick reeds that provided a nice roof over their heads. As soon as I raised my head, I could see them and they could see me so they back under their sanctuary they went.

I kept on feeding for half an hour or so then a big piece of bread flake went on the hook.

The first fish came with the first cast and then I had a cracking couple of hours trotting the float through the pacey water.

They key was once a fish was caught to get them confidently feeding again before putting the float out.

The bigger Chub proved elusive with the biggest 3lb or so but still gave a good scrap in the fast water.

I reckon, creeping in to the swim and dropping in a bait nailed to the bed might bag a bigger fish as they were certainly wary.

Warwickshire Avon - Beginning to bug Me

I didn’t expect much from this session but with my busy family life if I didn’t get out today then I’d be scuppered till the weekend. I did consider fishing the cut for carp or to go and try and find some surface feeding carp on the river but in the end for this short evening session it was groundhog day.

On one of the canal sessions and the quest for a cut double I made the mistake of wearing a T-shirt and a pair of crocs, it was very warm after all but boy, did I suffer the next day and for the rest of the week.

I came out with some of the largest and nastiest insect bites I’ve ever experienced and, itchy wasn’t the word, these were unbearable and as some of the larger ones were on my ankle, wearing shoes the next day aggravated them something chronic so walking was uncomfortable to the extreme and eventually blood was drawn.

I’m sure these must have been from mutant midges on chemical highs as these bites were stepped up a notch from the usual bites I get. The problem is giving a good scratch is one of the most satisfying sensations one can feel but it actually stimulates serotonin in the brain that intensifies the itchy feeling. As the serotonin spreads from the brain to the spinal cord, apparently the chemical can ‘jump the tracks’, moving from pain-sensing neurons to nerve cells that influence itch intensity.

Because of the short mouthparts, biting on man is generally confined to exposed skin. Midges cannot bite through cloth, although they will climb under clothes to bite.

However I’ve noticed a few more annoying buzzing mosquitoes over the past couple of days and they can bite though thin clothes so one must take extra precautions.

Out with the Gin….?

Now although I love a G&T (Rock Rose Navy Strength please) particularly in this weather the gnats piss quinine in tonic these days is about as strong as the water down Rum in an all-inclusive hotel bar in Sharm El Sheikh. The 1850’s colonial troops had it in powdered form and mixed it with carbonated water and sugar to mask the bitter taste, but in these large doses the quinine worked well as a prophylactic against malaria. The gin was just there to help the medicine go down more palatably. Well that’s what the history books reckon anyway.

I’m sure they liked to get bladderated like the rest of us….

Pre kids, my Wife and I and two other couples had two weeks sailing a Catamaran in the British Virgin Islands and my mate Deano used to react to mosquitoes bites horrifically, he got huge blistering lesions and hives that looked like somebody had just injected air under his skin. It looked something out of a horror film or a torture scene, gin and tonic even when consumed in obscene quantities was about as much use as tits on a fish. The lesions used to go up and down in size like Kelly Brooks chest over the years but when they were the fullest they really were impressive, they deserved to be preserved or replicated in a museum of medical history.

So you need to give them a bit hit of Diethyltoluamide. Proper 97% stuff, not of the rubbish you get in the supermarket.

I had tired the odd cigar when fishing in to dusk but the problem was as soon as the cigar smoke abated the insects came back and after the second or third cigar the back of one’s mouth tasted like I’d be chewing on one of Gandhi’s sandals.

So covering up is the only way to go really especially as us anglers are next to the water for our hobby, and that’s when I stumbled upon Craghoppers Nosilife clothing range which has insect-repellent treatment permanently woven into the fabric, which should help protect against biting insects. I ended up buying a long sleeve shirt which is nice and lightweight and also provides some ventilation so despite it being nearly 32 degrees today I was more than comfortable. The crocs were dumped for proper shoes and I had some insect repellent at hand if the blighters still wanted a go.

So the evening session....

Carpet bombing droppers of hemp, caster and pellet, the swim left to rest then a rig with artificial casters on a hair was placed over the buffet and hopefully heading towards dusk the bigger fish would find their feet and go gorging themselves on the bed of bait. The nature of the way barbel feed they tend to hook themselves and by using relatively buoyant fake casters if there is one in the swim it will eventually get hooked.

Despite the stupidly hot day the swim was in the shade and I soon had the fish feeding, weirdly all small chublets and nothing of size, I’d have amassed a decent weight mind you but not exactly what I was after. Double caster was generally ignored it was a single caster that produced the most fish.

I travelled light and after packing up most of the gear and with an hour to go before dusk I finally positioned the bait over the bed of bait. In the margins a Pike was still milling around, only 5 or 6lb or so but even a few jabs of the rod tip he was still back in the swim, but it did get me thinking. Even the large Seymo bait dropper I use I’m sure I’m not putting in enough bait, I accidently had one dropper fall in the margin before it was cast out and as it’s clear I could see the bait settle on the bottom. A large dropper doesn’t go far and certainly not the carpet of bait I expected. A note to oneself bring more bait next time.

Anyway eventually fish were in the swim, the rod was showing me, brushes on the line, grabs of the fake caster, these were Chub though. Some proper 2ft pulls too and some outrageous twangs and bangs. Although I like catching Chub they were not my target species but I’m sure if I shortened the hair then I’d have banked one. 

I bailed at 10.15pm and had a nice walk back to the car with the full moon on show. I’m sure if I stayed for another hour the Barbel would have ventured out to play but got to stick to the rules.

I stayed outside till late last night to enjoy the breeze as the house was like a sauna, the moon was stunning.

I’m running out of ideas, but I’ve a much deeper swim in mind and a load of bait to use up but I do fancy a decent pull on the rod. Maybe roving to try and spot some carp the weekend and another in to dusk bait and wait session is the way forward.

Can we have some rain please….

Warwickshire Avon – The Ultracrepidarian Gatekeeper

Twas early morning, warm but overcast, tackle abound, and I spot a rather rotund obstruction on the frequently trodden meadow, damn !!!!

No not a troll (I wish it was) but it was a long in tooth, neck map wearing rambler who looked like he was headed for Mount Kilimanjaro rather than this small area of Warwickshire which is as flat as a witches tit.

Walking poles FFS, my face has bigger contours.

His eyes were on me and our paths would cross before I could unhook the clasp on the gate to head swimward, what could it be this time I wonder !!!!

“I wouldn’t bother”

“you’ll never catch anything decent outta there fella”

“rivers, they’re all buggered”

“I stopped fishing them 20 years ago, got fed up of them, nothing like what they used to be”

"We used to catch bucket loads of Roach, even 3lbers"

“I only fish commercials now, I often have hundred weight even in cold conditions, F1’s you see, they are hybrids or something like that”

“I’m retired now, I can fish when I like”

Ok thanks for the letting me know, but I’ll give it a bash, you never know I might be lucky.

I should have listened......!!!!!!!!!

I don't think I've ever had it so tough, with the deeper areas I'd preferred to fish not available I decided to bait a few areas with hemp and caster and also to try and find fish with my new over-sized polarized over-glasses. Bait was fake caster and also from time to time boilies with a few freebies stuffed in a PVA bag.

I'd have much preferred to fish in to dusk but with family duties I didn't have that option and as soon as the sun came out it was unpleasant just sat there.

I baited the first swim three times and gave it a good couple of hours rest before putting the bait in but apart from a few plucks and one chublet it was suspiciously quiet, a bit like the banks, apart from one other angler on this lower stretch I had it all to myself. When the sun was out the bed could be seen in nearly all the swims, it was so clear you could see why the larger fish would be likely to be tucked away.

I added some pellets to some shallows but despite going back and forth a few times I didn't spot any feeding fish.

Two other swims fished next to cover I also remained biteless so I returned to the first swim and sat it out for the last hour with two rods, boilie on one, fake caster on the other. Bugger all.

Even freelined bread didn't get any interest.

Not a wasted session mind you as I got to explore more and more swims and also with the river so low also the lay of the land.

I've a midweek session planned so luckily I can fish in to dusk again, has to be the better option. If I find myself with these conditions again then trotting must be the way to go.

Warwickshire Avon – Back to the Smörgåsbord

After popping in to see Martyn the owner of Stratford on Avon Fishing and Outdoors apart from the usual friendly chat and fishing banter I’d somehow come out with a bucket load of casters for little more than the cost of a measly half pint of one of Purity’s finest. (Saddle Back 5.8%, lovely stuff)

…and they had to be used.

Now Martyn is very passionate about his business and has been extremely busy since opening, in the past he’s worked with local schools to hatch Salmon eggs and he also hatched and released Brown Trout in to the River Alne as well as being in the fishing game for some time. We need more people like him in the industry which seems heavily internet based these days.

Anyway a thumbs up from me, keep up the good work and for those that haven’t been, it’s been open a year and his shop is well worth a visit if you’re in the area.

The idea of baiting and waiting goes against my method and style of fishing but maybe there was a need to change tactics. I also know it’s a proven method that catches the weariest of fish, the river is low and gin clear after all and I’m finding it tough going at the moment, I couldn’t do any worse than my current maggot dangling mediocrity.

So might as well give it a bash….

Now the Smörgåsbord for my youngest son would be crisps, Kinder egg and chips, my eldest, melon, strawberries and grapes, Martin Roberts, meat and two ‘proper’ veg. There are no hard and set rules for ones chosen buffet….

….but everyone knows what a Barbus would like to dine on. Remind me what one looks like again, I’d like to know.

So for this session I planned to use a bait dropper and add a large carpet of hemp, small pellets and the casters to a swim, leave for forty five minutes, add a few more droppers to top it up, leave for another forty five minutes or so and then for the remainder of the session headed towards dusk do one last carpet bombing and fish 4 fake casters on a hair over the Smörgåsbord.

A couple of tungsten sinkers would nail the light and long hooklengh to the river bed….

The baited area was to my left under an overhanging tree and it was slightly deeper and darker than its immediate surroundings, giving a little more cover and sanctuary for feeding fish. I’d seen a couple of fish roll here, not the biggest but at least I knew the swim held the intended quarry.

Hopefully the ‘wafer thin mint’ to finish their feast off would be my fake offerings and I’d feel that powerful bend in the rod again only a Barbel can give….

Now I’m not one to twiddle my thumbs so I’d also trot some pieces of Warburtons Blue to try and pick up a Chub or two that I know reside here. I get less bothered about disturbing the swim these days having caught Barbel minutes after landing a ‘swim wrecking Chevin” and even a passing Otter but the plan was if anything decent was caught I’d add another few droppers of feed and allow the swim to settle again before introducing the fake bait.

Can you tell I plan my session beforehand? Bit like when I’m planning a holiday, meticulously, maybe that’s where I’m going wrong.

So how did it go?

Well a disaster.

The swim I intended to fish was occupied, so I walked to my 2nd choice swim and it's full of tackle but no one is home, hmmm

I walked upstream and spoke to an angler who was playing a fish to see if he knew who's it was he had been trotting, lost a barbel to a hook pool and now was playing what he thought was another Barbel but it turned out to be a foul hooked Chub that didn't like to be hooked in the tail. I landed it for 'Morris' and after a chat it seemed the swim was used by his mate who was roving around.

He rang his friend to see if I could fish it, 'yes, no problem'

So back to the swim I started baiting up, there were tall reeds in the nearside margin and a nice trot through with the float, I baited up the downstream margin not much more than a rod length out.

After an hour or so I had caught quite a few chublets but then a couple of Pike appeared in the swim, after the second dropper of bait, it's still very clear so there were clearly visible in the margin hanging around being a nuisance.

I kept on trotting for another hour and although the swim went quiet, I still managed a few small dace and chublets despite using a large hook and a large piece of bread.

The float rod went away and the last dropper went in a 9.00pm and I cast the caster rig in at 9.15pm. Two swans were active in the swim and for some reason were happy to hang around maybe feeding them so bring wasn't a wide idea. After half an hour and not long left of the session there were movements on the rod tip, there were fish(es) in the swim and sure enough, a few taps on the tip then.

WHAMMMMMMM !!!!!!!

A proper 4ft wrap over and the centerpins ratchet was singing, a Barbel was on.

I lifted the rod and leant in to what felt a very powerful fish, having caught quite a few doubles now this was a large, it powered off downstream with me not being able to do much but then leaning in to it again the rod was bent double and I had turned it to try and get it upstream, then after a 6 or 7 seconds whilst playing the fish.....

IT'S OFF !!!!!!, everything goes limp and I've lost the fish, WTF happened there.....

At first I thought I had a hook pull, maybe due to the smallish hook I was using but no the line had snapped between the first tungsten sinker and the second, more or less half way up the hooklink.

Now I usually use a braided hooklink but I haven't got that option here, the club doesn't like it for some reason. The hook link was Stroft ABR which I thought was the bees-knees but a failure like that I've already lost confidence in it.

Maybe the line under tension was severed by a reed ? who knows but I'm not likely to use it again.

Another one of those Arrrrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhh !!!!!! sessions us anglers hate, at least the bait and wait method worked well.

I've come casters left too so hopefully I'll be able to go back to the Smörgåsbord and give the method another bash.

Warwickshire Avon – Much canoe about Nothing

Out went the float, trailing two feet of line, shot and terminal tackle.

As the shot settled, the float cocked, a fleck of red,

Casters, waiting to be intercepted.

The float simply vanished, downwards into the depths of the shallow glide.

Another fish on, a bite a chuck.

I enjoy trotting, I don’t do enough of it.

For this morning session simple trotting tactics, hemp, caster and small pellets as feed, Drennan Acolyte 14ft float rod, stick float and size 16 Guru QM1 hook with a couple of casters.

Despite the swim occupied I wanted to fish I found a cracking swim which was slightly shallower with a nice long glide. It didn’t take much to build the swim either, the trickle of bait got the fish feeding. Not the biggest of fish admittedly but some nice sport all the same. A chance hook up of a larger fish which came off within a few seconds I’m sure there were Chub at the tail and of the swim holding back and not wanting to get too much involved. 

 
Plenty of Roach, Dace and Chublets were caught and if one was fishing a match a decent weight would easily be achieved.

Then my enjoyment ended….

2 canoeists in sight, the 4 swans retreating downstream.

“You do know there is an event on here today?”

“No, is there?”

“Yes it’s called the Doggy Paddle” “We raise money for the guide dogs for the blind”

“Oh, ok thanks for letting me know”

“The first should be here in 30 minutes or so” “Then another 300 will follow”

“THREE HUNDRED!!!!!!!!!”

I did a quick Google, and certainly a worthy cause, 18 miles of the Warwickshire Avon, from Leamington, through the grounds of Warwick Castle and Charlecote Park, ending in Stratford-Upon-Avon.

The route map here

So that was my fishing session buggered up and cut short, I was enjoying myself too.

Warwickshire Avon – Great Tits

I’ve always been an admirer of tits and these really were something special.

I was transfixed, glued to the spot.

Luckily hidden from view I could watch without fear of being sighted.

I got the camera out but the zoom was pathetic so one’s eyes would have to do.

Not a care in the world it seemed.

The pair on full display, plump as you like….

In this dangerous time their fledglings were comfortable in their parents company, watching, learning, they need to learn quick after all they will need to fend for themselves in the coming weeks. Caterpillars must be in abundance here, because over the space of an hour there was a conveyer belt of them, flies and other insects not so.

Their chirping loud, very loud…. assume the full stomachs helped.

A passing kingfisher had them in awe, they all of a sudden forgot about their buffet and looked at the evening entertainment.

They wouldn’t have seen that hanging out at the small garden at No.9 Bell End.

I fancied travelling light for this session so the bum bag was donned with the mere essentials and roving it was. I’m a roving angler at heart, it’s more my thing, not only do I get to exercise ones underused legs but moving from peg to peg to try and find fish I find beneficial. Particularly in the winter months where if within 15 minutes I haven’t had a bite from a gluttonous Chub on pungent cheese paste it’s time to move.

Now I didn’t have much time, work is a bit manic at the minute and I’ve been working more hours than I usually do so a short evening session is all I could manage.

The river was low, very low and clear too, certainly not ideal conditions but with some nice glides and thick cover I’d try and tempt a fish with a moving bait.

Other areas of the Avon I fish I've been quite successful with this method when a static bait would be ignored. 

That was the plan anyway, the banks were deserted so I tried 6 or 7 swims without even a nibble, 2 particular swims had thick cover and looked ideal for a fish, however despite rolling a bait under their hiding place they didn’t seem to be interested.

Even in the thick streamer weed which I studied for a good half an hour I didn’t spot any feeding fish. All very odd.

For the last half an hour I had a bait static on the bed under some cover and fished in to dusk, but even the Chub didn’t seem to be interested.

Tough going again but I’ve discovered one particular swim that I might dropper some bait in and wait for a bite, it looked perfect.

Another blank….

I'm clearly doing it wrong.

Warwickshire Avon – Caught in the Act

I’d picked up what seemed like a thousand maggots individually but maybe it was time for the Dyson, out with the big guns.

I hear the gravel drive.

Bugger the Wife is back.

Need to think quickly on my feet.

It’s happened before you see, not only escapee maggots but….

The rancid cheese paste that somehow made it way behind the tumble drier, the mummified roach dead baits undiscovered for months, the lobworms I’d forgot about that turned to mush and I’d better not tell her about the castors I keep on finding in her car, to this day I still don’t know where all the maggots went.

Shhhhhhhhhssshhhhh….

Simple, kettle on !!!

“Oh hello, you’re back early”

“I was just making a coffee, fancy one?”

“Yeah go on then”

“You fishing tomorrow?”

“I am indeed, might sort the tackle out in a bit” “I’ll sort the washing in the tumble drier, you go and sit yourself down” “play that new game if you want”

“You sure?”

“Yeah no problem, I’d only get in your way anyway”

Coffee finished, Wife in the lounge, I know what, the handheld vacuum on top of the fridge is ideal, lift it off its dock, she wouldn’t even hear, easy, it’s even quiet too.

Job’s a good’un….

I slide out the white good from under the worktop, a sh*t load of maggots still on their bid for freedom, the door barricaded by the bait fridge.

Right, let them have it, vacuum now on !!!

The cyclone in full effect, I’m getting down them quick, too, she will be none the wiser.

A tap on the shoulder, I JUMP !!!!!!!.

WTF, she’s gained entry through the garage door.

“Errr what are you doing”

“Nothing, just….”

“ARE THEY MAGGOTS!!!”

Hands up, yes sorry, had a bit of an accident, I’m, sorting it though, don’t worry.

“YEAH WITH MY HOOVER!!!”

“I’ll clean it up, just leave me too it”

“YOU BETTER”

“Shall I get some wine for later?”

“Yeah, that would be nice, now GET IT SORTED”

Luckily she is easily bought, till the next time.

So the session, well I wanted to have a butchers at the middle of the stretch an area I'd not even visited before. I decided to sit it out too, the downstream rod with pellets the upstream rod with a couple of boilies. 

I settled in a swim with mostly dead water to my left but with a nice flow at the top of the swim that made a nice crease that I'd position my baits. Further downstream some thick streamer weed that was in patches.

On the upstream rod I'd put a carpet of hemp and tiny pellets down via a groundbait feeder and I'd switch to a lead to make less disturbance. With the sessions been hard work of late I'd shorten my hair rig and also use a smaller hook, a wide gape size 14.

The first fish came after nearly an hour and a half which was the last cast on the feeder I'd make, it was a Chub that took the boilies on the drop. It gave a good account for itself in the flow and when it turned up looking like it would just about scrape 3lb I was a little disappointed. 

Weirdly no fish on the pellets just a odd bang and tap here and there. At the end of the session though I'd managed 8 or so Chub. Nothing of size but at least it was a bend in the rod.

For the last hour I walked downstream had a nose at the other swims and also tried and failed to catch some decent looking Chub that were held station under the bridge just up from the fast shallow water. The more I look at this area the more I'm thinking I need some waders. Not only decent Chub will be had but Barbel will be in and amongst the streamer weed.

The next session, not sure, I might rove around the lower swims and trundle some meat around, I'm sure a moving bait or something different is the way to go.

Warwickshire Avon – I really need a piece of the Saxon

What the fork is that !!!

Now I’ve trodden a huge amount of ground within rural Warwickshire and if only my hobby was different I might be a millionaire. I stumbled upon what looked like an ancient pitchfork the other day, well it certainly looked old but then what would I know, a bit of googling I was none the wiser.

Nope it's not in my garage, was too heavy for starters.

I’d been watching the BBC4 drama the Detectorists series you see which follows the life and loves of a metal detecting club and their trials and tribulations in pursuit of Saxon Gold.

Imagine discovering another Staffordshire Hoard I’d not need to work again, and just look at this Frome Hoard to see what could be lurking, that find of 50,000 Roman coins would certainly keep me in maggots.

So I've decided I need some shoes with a metal detector built in….

I've checked online too, there isn't anything decent on the market, well nothing that wasn't included in the Kleeneze catalogue next to the cucumber spaghetti maker. Some patents exist though, they really do, shame they haven't come to fruition.

Boring, maybe to some but I can see the appeal, anyway as I’ve said before.

“Every man needs a hobby, every man needs an interest”

A bit like fishing, metal detecting as a hobby is the perfect excuse for an affair FFS, forgot the standard holding fish picture. Look what I’ve caught to get the eyes rolling, a picture of a half penny would have the same effect and she’d never ask again.

Now obviously you cannot just rock up on a farmers land and start sweeping with your coil sensor to try and find some eddy currents, there’s a code of conduct,unlike....

the practice of ‘Nighthawking’ no I didn’t know what that term meant either, well I do now, basically it’s a term used by Britain’s metal detecting community to describe the theft of archaeological artifacts under the cover of darkness. I can relate that to fishing somewhat as this stretch I've been fishing if it wasn’t for someone ignoring repeated warnings and literally camping out all night bankside I’d probably be watching an isotope for this session....

I love fishing an hour in to dark, and some big fish have come of it….

For this short evening session I 'planned' to do a bit of trotting, the fish were properly up in the water and feeding nearing dusk here last time and I fancied being a little more active than sitting behind ones rods, towards the end of the swim the river narrowed and picked up pace too so ideal for a long trot under a large float. Bait, well cubes of meat, some large visible wax worms and some bread I'd let float down the swim. Chub are great picking up stuff off the surface and some big fish topped when I was here before so fancied a dabble.

To hedge my bets I’d deployed another rod rigged with the Gluttonous Chub Poka-Yoke Rig and fish a Chub gobstopper, a proven barbel banker. You can ignore the rattles, bangs and twangs, the Chub, unless it’s a clonker will give up after a while, when the centrepins ratchet is audible, a Barbel will be on.

Best laid plans and all that….how did it go?

Well, it was a disaster....

I left all my trotting bait at home because I was in a rush to leave after finishing work late, so I'd only big pellets for bait. Trotting some scavenged slugs I had one pull that was it but the Poka-Yoke Chub avoid-er rig worked so well I watched nearly 2 hours of countless fish trying to strip the bait from the hair, the pull, bangs and bites were utterly ridiculous with some sharp and powerful 2 footers. A 4lb or so Barbel rolled in my swim too so there was at least one Barbel in my swim.

Back to plan C for Sunday me thinks, I need to look at the available swims to me so I'm visiting the mid section, shortening my hairs and reducing the size of the bait.

Even a small Chub will do....

I like posting about my blank sessions, I still have plenty of them. The car park and banks were deserted, maybe it's not just me finding it tough.