A misty dawn – February 2019
The first outing of my end of season holiday was a dusk into dark session on a stretch close to home. I arrived in the car park to another angler leaving and after a quick chat, I headed onto the beat. I was quietly confident that by staying into dark I had a chance. I made my way along the stretch dropping pieces of paste into my favourite winter spots ready for the rove back to the car. It wasn’t until darkness fell that my rod tip showed signs of interest in my second swim; after a delicate bite the strike was met with the thumping of a chub when it hit the fast flow. It managed to bury itself among an old reed bed just downstream of my position. With no obstructions on my bank, I was able to move down below the old reed bed and apply pressure from another angle. It was soon moving again and the chub was coaxed over the waiting landing net.
A mid four – February 2019
With a fish under my belt, I headed to my final swim for the evening. I cast out my lump of cheese paste into the crease and awaited a response. The fish were cagey in this swim, my first two plucks on the tip were struck at and missed! I had a few choice words before re-positioning the rod and casting back into the crease. It was 15 minutes before I finally hit a more positive bite and soon another chub was on the mat.
Cagey bites before this fish was landed – February 2019
I arrived the following morning at daybreak and decided to sit it out in comfort while the world around woke.
I settled myself into the same swim as the previous evening. The first bite was missed, but within half an hour of my first cast I was playing a chub to the net while a frost formed on the banks around me.
An early morning late winter chub – February 2019
I had another two missed chances in that swim before the sun was out and bright, so I decided to pack in and have a wander around to suss some spots for later in my holiday.
I returned to a different stretch for a dusk into dark session that evening. On arrival I bumped into another angler while I was walking the beat. He had not been fishing long on the float and had recently lost a good fish. I wished him ‘all the best’ before discreetly dropping some pieces of paste into a gravel bottomed depression under my bank a little way upstream of him.
To be honest, I was a little annoyed that I hadn’t had the stretch to myself because it really limited swims to be baited. Still I knew that the other angler would be off the stretch before I fished my baited swim as he only had a float rod. I settled into a spot well upstream of prying eyes to wait until the sun had set. I was getting very cagey knocks (which I couldn’t hit!), so I gave this swim a lot longer than normal. When darkness fell I made my way to my prebaited swim.
The swim in question really looks the part at normal winter level: the current flows a rod length from the bank over clean gravel under a small clump of trees, which has created a small raft full of nasty snags under the near bank. Unfortunately, it seems to be an all or nothing swim. I’ve had less than handful of bites over the last few seasons and only one chub landed. That chub weighed 5 lb 13 oz, which for me is enough to warrant a bit of free bait or a cast whenever I’m on the stretch.
I set up shop a little more to the left than in previous times, because I felt that if the bite came I had that little bit more room for manoeuvre to steer a hooked fish away from the danger zone.
I made a short underarm cast into the current, feeling the lead down onto the gravel. Whenever I’ve had a bite in the swim it’s been quick, so my eyes were fixed on my isotope for any signs of movement. Less than 10 minutes had passed when it twitched. I checked again, this time moving the rod toward the fish as it pulled again. I struck into solid resistance before the fish erupted on the surface dangerously close to the raft. Switching on my head torch, I applied as much side strain as possible to steer the fish clear of the danger. It was thumping in the current like only big chub do, I knew I was attached to one I didn’t want to lose! I got the net caught on some bank side brambles and missed netting it first time round. Luck was on my side and on the second attempt I eased the fish over the net.
A lump – February 2019
I zeroed the sling and weighed what I could see was clearly a ‘proper chub’. The scales settled on 6 lb 13 oz. That beat my old best from this particular stretch by 7 oz. I set up the camera for some self takes, shared my capture with a couple of friends and then packed up a very happy angler.
Worth every second spent chasing chub – February 2019
The following day I had a relaxing morning and didn’t head out until late afternoon. I arrived to a quiet ‘Beat 2’, which was nice! I baited a few swims before settling into my first. I had a missed chance on the paste, so I decided to switch to a big lump of bread flake instead. The next bite was more confident and I found myself playing a hard fighting chub as it tried its best to get in under some snags to my left. All ended well and I netted what turned out to be a bigger than expected chub on the second cast!
T-shirt weather in late February 2019
The scales were organised and settled on 6 lb 1 oz. Photos were done before having another couple of casts in the same swim, this time on boillies. It was a good hour before I was landing my second chub of the evening. This fish was one I recognised and it was soon back in its watery home.
The sun had set as prime time approached so I headed to a swim that was yet to produce a chub to my rod this season, even though it was one that had been producing for others on the stretch recently. I dropped some bait in and left it to rest for 30 minutes while I fished elsewhere. I moved just before darkness to the prebaited swim, made the cast and sat back as another angler on the opposite bank packed up after landing a chub. Frustratingly I had a pull on the tip which I missed! The games then began as the fish kept getting away with the paste. I swapped the lead for a smaller one and then positioned the rod tip higher; the taps stopped. Forty minutes later, I finally connected to a more positive bite. The fish fought well trying to bury itself under my bank in flood debris. All ended well as I slipped my net under my third chub of the session. The scales settled bang on ‘six’ and after photos I headed back to the car in the darkness happy with my return for a few hours on the bank.
Finally a chub from this swim – February 2019
The following day I was back on the river at dawn with a friend from work as a guest. We were out searching for pike on a stretch I’ve not fished much, but it has a good record for bags of silver fish. Armed with one dead bait rod each, we fished every likely swim through the morning without so much as a sniff. We had just about called time at lunchtime when we bumped into the ever-helpful bailiff on the stretch. He pointed us to some swims, which I thought were beyond the boundary. So after a long chat and a walk along the bank we settled into the new swims. The first swim I felt was too turbulent, so we moved onto the next, which had a lovely slack close to the bank. My friend had a dropped take on a joey, so I suggested a switch to a smaller bait and recast for him. The rod tip showed signs of interest as soon as the bait had settled. I picked up the rod wound down and struck before handing the rod to my friend, who played the pike into the waiting landing net. He was over the moon and made the trip worthwhile.
Team effort for this low double – February 2019
Unfortunately the rest of my holiday was an anticlimax on the fishing front, as I struggled with a low clear river, Then high winds and heavy rain brought the river up and my struggle continued! I did have chances with one re capture landed after the usual messing about. Other bites were missed and as the season ebbed away. The banks were busy everywhere I went, which also didn’t help. However, I did manage another chub from Throop in the final couple of days when the weather cleared one afternoon between storms.
4 lb 14 oz – March 2019
My final day was spent in the company of a good friend on the ‘Winter stretch’ catching up. It was a pleasant end to another season chasing the fish of the Dorset Stour.
Spring is in the air – March 2019
Fish Tales From The Riverbank 