Warwickshire Avon – Hemp, Halieutics and Hedonism

The simple pleasures in life are to be treasured, last Sunday after an afternoon of cracking food, good company, bladderation in moderation, I wasn’t ready to go to bed.

It was warm after all, so with the kids conked out asleep, the Wife watching another dross American show on Sky Atlantic I wanted a little solitude.

Viken Arman, Live at Belvédère des Caillettes on the Bluetooth speaker, a nice bottle of Red and a big fat cigar that I enjoy from time to time.

Heaven….

Port and Stilton, another one of my hedonistic pleasures.

Oh yes….can life get any better….?

Even the bats seem to be more prevalent than ever, as if they came to watch.

Fishing for many, and for me can offer so much pleasure in some may ways, for instance one scenario after watching motionless rod tips for a couple of hours completely out of the blue, a Barbel has finally moved in to the baited area picked up the hookbait bait, felt something isn’t right with it, and bolted downstream.

Silence to Violence in a split second….

where if the baitrunner wasn’t activated, or the clutch set properly, the rod if you weren’t quick enough would end up being ripped out of the rest and would be river bound never to be seen again.

It’s something unless you have experienced it firsthand you wouldn’t think a fish could do that.

I take that a little further but using a centepin reel with a ratchet, not only does it offer, for me anyway more control over a powerful Barbel run but it also offer an audible bite indication that is a sensory overload in itself.

It must be seen to be believed….dare I say it the ‘Three foot Twitch’.

For this session Barbel would be the target. I didn’t have much time either, this was a stupidly short session.

The swim I wanted to fish has a large canopy that hangs over this relatively narrow stretch of the Warwickshire Avon. When it’s low and clear as it is now, the fish tuck themselves out of the way under this overly large parasol and venture out when the light goes. You can catch them if you can get a bait underneath by casting upstream and rolling some meat but a recent snag that has appeared recently has made that nigh on impossible.

Bait and wait is the way to go….

So with half a pint of casters I had to use up I bait dropped a Smörgåsbord consisting of about a pint of hemp, small pellets and some broken boilies to match the one I’d use on the hair.

Boy they love hemp, doesn’t everyone.

The rig, well an adaptation of the Gluttonous Chub – Poka-Yoke Rig

So a large spicy squid boilie rather than an overly large pellet. The problem is Chub are always around so meat is a no go because I when they move in I want to know that the bait is still intact after they go on their bait stripping mission.

Ok sometimes the Chub will eventually hang itself but it’s surprising just how many powerful pulls and tugs the rig can tolerate and the hookbait is still staying put where it needs to be. Meat you are in two minds whether the bait is still there and the last thing you want to do is keep on recasting.

So a tough skinned boilie, large stop, long hair is the way to go for this approach.

So best laid plans and all that....

A bed of bait down, leave for an hour, whilst I had a small quiver rod with link ledger set-up to try and catch a few Gonks, and a few Gonks I did.

A bite a chuck, the best went 1.35oz so 0.09 more than I managed before.

Rods went out, sit back and bait....

After 10 minutes the first indication, a smash and grab chub bite, bang, rattle, pull, tug till eventually I got bored and struck.

Yeap a small Chub the culprit.

Rod out again, dusk upon us, the right rod goes this time, bang, rattle, pull, tug. bang, rattle, pull, tug, yeap, this one has hooked itself.

Damn Chub, sadly with the light about to go and club rules and all that, I'm off.

Btw if the Focus estate driver is reading this, yes I had a tyre inflator, 

Warwickshire Stour – Boobs and Babblement

“Dad, Dad, Dad, DAD !!!….”

“What”

“Can I have a go at casting again”

“Yes if you want, just give me a sec”

I was sidetracked….

Sat in a field with young Sam on another fishing trip, my mind was elsewhere. A stunning morning again it was, sun beating down, sky blue, then out of nowhere a jogger of the bouncing kind.

Black shorts, white vest top, barely contained Mitchell Brothers.

The red support bra, working overtime….

Jaw dropped, fair play, got to be uncomfortable….an exchange of pleasantries.

The Stour at the moment is very low indeed but a stretch just outside Stratford-Upon-Avon is deep, very deep indeed so lots of swims perfectly fishable.

Sam with his float rod, me with a piece of bread on a link ledger.

There is no doubt the Stour fishes better when there is a little water in it, but we still caught fish.

Roach, little chublets, dace and a few Perch.

Not big fish, but that’s not the point, trampling over fields, watching the bulls in the neighbouring fields, appreciating the countryside, dirt under nails. That’s what it is all about.

One with nature.

The last swim Sam also witnessed his first Pike attack first hand as when I’d hooked a small chub from underneath an overhanging bush, on the retrieval one not much bigger than the chub itself grabbed it on its flanks and proceeded to shake its head.

“Dad, that was awesome, thanks for taking me fishing again”

Despite the constant babble and chatter which gets in the way of a solitude seeker, that’s all that I need, a sentence like that.

Next stop, I might take him to the Avon to track down a Ruffe.

"Can I put some maggots on that scab of mine now"

Maybe after the Barbi, Son

Luckily forgotten about....

Warwickshire Avon – Ebullience and Epulation

The late ‘Ruddles’ the Golden Lab was such a character, so obedient, quiet, slept well and was a joy to take to the pub and on holiday.

Even the malting of hair was largely forgotten about, he was that easy to look after.

He had to have his feeding time like clockwork, bit like the dawn and dusk Tench, that appear in the summer and then become elusive.

Certainly this time of year, no better time to catch them.

However I remember a New Years Eve party we hosted at the Father-In-Laws he even wasn’t fazed by the loud fireworks we were setting off. Then again as we were otherwise occupied with rockets, single ignitions and alcohol, he’d helped himself to half the buffet which consisted of pork pies, sausage and pizza.

His stomach swelled to such a size he couldn’t even get up the stairs….

The morning, don’t remind me, I can still see the resulting mess now, not pleasant.

Would the Tench be getting their heads down feeding properly again, I need to find that feeding spell because at the minute my results for this Bloggers Challenge have been mediocre.

Last time I tried for them on this lily riddled stretch of the Warwickshire Avon I blanked, what was encouraging though was eventually after feeding a second swim for a couple of hours eventually some tell-tale pinhead bubbles started to appear.

Sadly family duties took priority and I had to leave….

Either they were feasting on the bed of bait I put down or they were grubbing around for bloodworm as in my mind no question, there were Tinca in the swim.

Again I had a small window to fish, so it was no messing around….

Early start….

Rod made up, Drennan Insert, lift method.

Some dark groundbait, hemp, small pellets and the odd grain of corn, a sprinking of dead red maggots.

Sleeper rod for any passing Bream or Carp, PVA Bag, halibut pellet.

No time to waste, let’s get fishing….

What a stunning morning and a nice time to be out. On route, stop at the bridge, peer overhead a double plus carp spotted sunning itself, river clear as gin.

It's weedy down here but because it is match fished some of the swims are often raked so I set station in the swim I fished the previous time and also fed the swim adjacent to it that had a gap between the lilies. I'd pop to that swim from time to time to see if I could see any bubbles.

After feeding the swim, eventually signs of movement on the float, the float dotted down to a small bit of red showing, oh and what a great way to fish, centrepin, lift method, as a visual indication, when a bite is received nothing better.

Float pops up 3 to 4 inches, strike, a fish is on....

So the first fish a bream, not a bad one either, just over 3lb.

I fully expected the Tench to move in eventually if they were around but throughout the morning session it was clear it was a bream day.

There are huge quantities of small fish here, ground bait is a waste of time, as the shoal hits it and then Perch hit the shoal, lots of commotion.

Now talking of commotion, the method feeder on the sleeper worked brilliantly, so much so I could have fished another rod more effectively than the float.

As after an initial small Chub, after the 3 or 4th bream they were getting bigger, biggest 4lb 8oz. Considering I don't really fish for them I'm sure some 6, 7 and above must be about. You can see why they have matches here, I amassed well over 30lb without even trying.

No bubbles appeared in the neighbouring swim, and another bream caught I called it at day.

Highlight of the day, a nice bream to register on the score board, lowlight, bust my bleeding landing net thread, the rest of it, is still in the handle. Hopefully that is salvageable, we'll see.

I'll get one of the handy clay modellers on it.