So I’m sitting in my favourite swim on the banks of the River Stour. Along comes a fellow angler who introduces himself, unfolds his chair, and plonks himself down right next to me. I do not know this bloke from Adam but he talks to me as if we are long lost buddies. He asks if I have caught anything, which is fair enough and I am happy to report I’ve just got started; he seems nice enough but already I am worrying that he might be staying for the duration. He’s one of those who commands my attention and keeps tapping me on the arm to emphasise a point, particularly how, when, and where he caught a near record Chub from Toddler’s Cove.
I’m beginning to get nervous. Coerced into endorsing his brilliant angling accomplishments, I am forced to abandon concentration of my quiver-tip to applaud his angling skills which I think he feels are so much better than my own. We’ve all met them. Been everywhere. Caught everything. Finds the sport of Angling so ridiculously easy he wonders why he is so good!
My nervousness changes to irritation - and then to annoyance… I fix my gaze firmly on the end of my rod and respond to his conversation in muted grunts. (He’ll get the hint in a minute and bugger off).
Ten minutes later he’s still going strong - and in fact I think he’s just getting into his stride; he’s now telling me how he’s caught all the Chub on this stretch and really can’t be bothered with them any more and feels his efforts are worthy of only the biggest Barbel. Time to act…
“Austin; it’s been great meeting you and I hope you have a nice day, but you’re stopping me from fishing!”
Austin pulls a face. I’ve definitely given him the ‘ump. He stands up, folds his chair, picks up his fishing gear and walks off downstream with a, “see ya”.
Relief…
The rig I’m using today I’ve not tried before. A two-thirds of an ounce Flat Pear is running on the main line, stopped by a Drennan Quick-Change swivel and bead. Nine inches of Drennan camouflage (Gravel) supple braid connects to a size six Drennan Super Specialist. A short hair carries a 12 x 6 cork pop-up plug around which is wrapped some Stickybaits Krill paste. I’ve already tried Luncheon Meat this morning but find the paste more practical to use as it’s more robust staying on the rig. I had my first chub on the curry and Turmeric flavoured meat but I find hooking it and getting it to stay on to be more problematic.
I throw out a few 12mm Krill boilies to get the fish interested and it’s not long before there is a double tap-tap on the quiver-tip and I strike into something solid.
It is indeed a Chub of three pounds fourteen ounces, and I try very hard indeed to make it go four pounds for that is my target before the end of the current fishing season - but no. The needle of the ‘Avons’ refuses to swing past the four pounds mark. But then I think “Is it a big three, or a failed four?” Is the glass half full or half empty?
With the bit between my teeth I’m fishing hard. The slightest movement of ‘the tip’ has me reaching for the rod and I am fully expectant of another fish. An hour passes without any further action… I should move really, the commotion caused by landing the fish has obviously upset them and they have declined my company but I hang on because on my walk downstream to the swim I didn’t really see any other swims with that ‘chubby’ look about them.
How do you rationalise that instinctive feeling that you know chub are in a certain spot? There are swims between here and the top of the stretch with overhead cover, snags, deeper, smoother glides, and all the classic indicators and chub-holding characteristics. And yet none of them really grabs me. Another hour goes by and I find it’s past lunchtime. My sandwiches and cake are well on their way through my digestive system and my knees are beginning to stiffen. I find that sitting for any length of time makes my legs and knees stiff these days… (Poor old bugger).
It’s time for a walk to try and find some more fish, so I pack the gear and wander back upstream to satisfy myself that I have really looked at every fishy spot there is. I stop at three possibles; in particular there are some trees which span the river from bank to bank and positively scream Chub but closer inspection reveals shallow water on the far side - so shallow you can see the bottom.
For some instinctual reason I don’t like fishing where I can see the bottom unless there is streamer weed for the fish to hide in. Near to the bank however it is deeper and I can work a bait right under the branches of the tree and retreat upstream and fish it from above. Several boilies are thrown in followed by my bait which makes a gentle ‘Plop’… And yet I am still not entirely happy. Can’t put my finger on it but a little voice in the back of my head is telling me it ain’t going to happen.
And it doesn’t.
It starts to rain and it’s time to test the brand new rainwear from Aldi. I’ve got their camo’ fleece underneath, rain-resistant jacket, and waterproof trousers and I’m pleased to say I’m dry as a bone. The whole lot costs less than thirty quid and is both functional and appropriate. Marketed under the ‘Crane’ brand these garments are enough to make carp-fishing fashionistas fall about laughing.
“You’re wearing clothing bought from Aldi?!…You mean to say it’s not Trakker? Nash? Avid? Korda? Fox?
No it’s not; and it doesn’t cost £100 for just the jacket alone. And by the way, camouflage is so ‘last year’ darling.
The rain stops and the sun comes out. A rainbow appears and I think how lucky I am to just be here.
Listen… I can here birdsong. They think it’s Spring already. Well, they’re a bit previous; the temperature might have just hit double figures but I don’t think Winter is over just yet. There is something in the air though. The river is alive. It is stirring like a sleeping giant. There is life; even the ducks and Moorhen seem more active than usual. I can hear a pheasant somewhere.
I stop on until dusk. Dusk is the best chance of a fish and I sit poised like a Heron, waiting for the rod-tip to give a nodding assent. But it doesn’t.
My mobile is ringing. It is Christine.
“Are you coming home tonight?” Yes dear. Tea will be on the table when I arrive.
All is well with the world.
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