Couldn't keep this in perspective

Entry posted by Rusty October 2, 2010

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River Kennet, Newbury, Saturday 2nd October 2010

After last night’s great little session I couldn’t help but head for Speen Moors again. I wasn’t planning to wade but took the chesties just in case and thought I’d take a look further down first to see if the well protected chub were still in residence. The water was more coloured than last time and I couldn’t see them but I did spy a certain Mr. Plumb preparing to empty the river of anything worth catching. It would’ve been rude not to say hello so a quick “cawt anyfink mister” (he had predictably) and off I went to Speen.

I only had three swims in mind today, the first two where I’d caught decent perch and the third was last night’s swim, now known to me at least as ‘the car park swim’. I went to the furthest away first and worked my way back, in three hours my favourite produced a minnow and my second favourite produced nothing. Despite the pressure on the car park swim it didn’t let me down with a pretty reasonable encore to last night’s activities, perch and roach gobbled up the red maggots time after time, trotting lobs stopped any bites strangely. I did, however, have more time than last night so mid afternoon I headed back further downstream. Chris had left by then and there was nobody else fishing so firstly I tried wading to where I’d previously seen chub and barbel. I got halfway across before it became too deep and too fast to be safe, I could see where I wanted to put the float but it was apparent that any fish caught would be in amongst snags already so I decided that it was a non-starter. Those chub will be safe from me.

So upstream I went and fished where Chris had been earlier. My conscience was clear, I’d tried this swim a couple of weeks ago but on that occasion I hadn’t caught anything (I will admit to feeling more confident though). This time was a bit different, slow to start but over the next three hours I experienced every high and low that angling has to offer. It must’ve been an hour before anything happened and when it did a decent chub was being guided past the snags and into open water. I got it all the way back to the bank before my own incompetence with a landing net in flowing water allowed it to spit the hook.

Bites weren’t frequent by any means and when the next one came I wasn’t going to make the same mistake. This time when the fish was beaten I guided it to a shallow part of the bank where I could pick it up and land it. 2lb 8oz;

A short while later another chub of 3lb 3oz took the red maggot (I’d dropped my lobs in the water by then trying to tear one in half);

By now it was getting towards going home time but ‘one last trot’ syndrome had kicked in. I wished it hadn’t as the float dipped and I struck into a snag. The expletives were tempered by that fact that I could at least gain line and unhook the offending weed/branch. The expletives were then unleashed as the snag fought back, not in a typical small chubby manner but one big thump and then a powerful cruise over to the real snags. I was anticipating heartbreak as I felt the braid grinding against tree roots and whatever else was there, all I could do was apply as much pressure as I dare and hope the gods were smiling upon me (sorry FT). Unbelievably the fish then relinquished his advantage and came out into open water, by that time I knew how much pressure was safe and so I gradually recovered line and coaxed a very tired chub into a downstream slack where I’d left my landing net. The prize was a 5lb 8oz specimen;

After that I packed up and drove home unable to stop smiling. I’d had plenty of bait and a bit of time left but it felt as if I’d had my fair share of success and wanting more would’ve just been greedy.

I probably won’t be out next weekend but the weekend after I’m off for a couple of days on the Eden. If it doesn’t rain the grayling fishing should be good, whatever the weather meeting Tigger and Lutra will be good.