And so the river season draws itself to a close just as the river was getting in to fine fettle after suffering three or more months of flooding and shite weather, the weather windows this passed winter have been rare and brief  but I will not moan too loudly for as a Trent angler first and foremost, I believe that my river has gotten of lightly compared to some poor unfortunates.

Some of the southern rivers I fear will NEVER recover and I say never because it is my fear that as soon as the conditions allow the Government will sanction some rivers to be dredged to within an inch of their lives, they will for all intents and purposes never recover and the sorry fact of the matter is that it will not work.

It will not work because below the dredge point the river will increase in velocity taking sediment from upriver of the dredging site to re-balance the flow of the river by depositing it from where sediment has just been taken, that is the nature of rivers and for those that live above the dredge site there will be bank-side erosion and possible rerouting of the rivers traditional course which could possibly result in some people losing their homes.

Back to the floods, the one thing that did make me smile was the faux concern displayed by an assortment of politicians that turned up with when the Thames started to flood, down south they have had 7000 homes and businesses flooded and its “Arma-fucking-geddon”, money is no object.

When the north  flooded we had 67% more rain fall and 50, 000 homes and businesses flooded all we got was twenty minutes on the news and not so much as a kiss my arse from Westminster.

Not that I am bothered, I am Northern…I wouldn’t expect Westminster to give a flying fuck about my concerns and troubles.

At the end of the day, north or south, east or west, if we choose to live on floodplains we will get wet at some point.

But lets’ not drone on about that, let’s all take a five minute break and have a communal feel good moment on how fulfilled we feel now that we are doing our bit for the environment by not sitting besides the river for three months so that the environment can have a rest…

Feel better?

No?

Me either…In fact I feel like I am being ripped off!

 

 

 

Monkey off my back time…

I know I say it every bloody season, this year I will get myself a twenty pound carp…

Well this is going to be the one, I have had enough, I hooked up into one at the end of the season and lost it on some sunken ironwork, that was the final straw…I don’t have to get my first 20 from the Trent, no, I can now just go and get one.

Maybe a Trent 20 will come soon after, just like when you wait for an age to catch a bus.

It isn’t like I haven’t come close because I have, I have had loads of close calls and have been witness to loads of captures of 20′s but I have always been the Bridesmaid and never the Bride…Or should that be Best-man and not the Groom?

Either way I am not bothered the analogy works.

Doing my bit for the environment

Last weekend Tina, Olivia and I did a little bit for the environment by helping to plant some tree’s, I enjoyed the experience no end and hopefully within a few years I will be able to gather a little bit of fruit for fermentation!

There is little point planting trees that cannot at some point in time be tapped up for a drink, in the next few weeks I plan on starting a nice little “oak leaf chardonnay” or as it may well be known “wood flavoured meths”

Last year I made a few really nice little tipples but my stores are running low and are in need replenishment as the rather superb but slightly sweet Rosehip and Sloe has been recycled  by my rather dysfunctional kidneys and the very fruity but extremely potent Red Mead is gone…Time for tree planting, foraging and some further fermentation!

Refugee camp for plants

Seeing as the battle for Bowden Houstead Field is for all intents and purposes lost and the only hope of its salvation rests in my faith in the Secretary for State Eric Pickles to do the the right thing, I thought it time to take proactive measures and transplant some of my favourite flora onto a rather boring section of adjacent grassland that would be a suitable second home.

Grasslands are ok if they are “wild” but if they are nothing more than “feral” they can lack a little diversity.

Hopefully with a bit of a raking, some digging and a few plants I can rejuvenate this area and keep hold of some of the 23 species of butterfly that will have their homes bulldozed in the name of advancement.

One bit of advice I would give all homeowners on my side of Sheffield that will be serviced by the new fire station is once it is built and operational get yourself a fire alarm and make sure the batteries are charged, plan an escape route and make sure everyone in the family knows what to do because this week the Sheffield Parkway has been gridlocked more than once and very slow everyday at rush hours…If you have a house fire and it coincides with this you may be in for a wait.

You will need to be self sufficient, the fire brigade will be on hand to damp down when the Parkway allows.

So how did it finish for me?

It ended very well to be honest but once again I have that “robbed” Feeling rolling away inside of me, I just think that the whole Closed Season thing would be best consigned to history, it just doesn’t make sense anymore.

I spent the second to last day of the season on the Trent with my good mate Danny Johnson trying to bag a few fish and bag a few we did…

I had my eye set on a peg I had seen Mike Townsend fish last season and snatch a couple of good chub out of, I thought I would quite like to do the same and so I attacked it with a lobworm down the edge feeding some micro pellet and paste crumbs with the intention of switching over to The Hook Bait Company 3B on dark, I like to mix and match my aproach with the intention of maximizing the chances of me getting a few fish and in my opinion at this time of year you cannot go far wrong with a lobworm down the edge during daylight hours.

I wasn’t waiting long before the tip rattled around and a small chub of maybe 12oz came to the net…It was a chub and it could have potentially been my last fish of the season and so I had a picture taken with it.

Making a recast heartened by the knowledge that there were chub in the area I was very happy to see the tip twitch within a few minutes before inching steadily around…I was even happier when my strike met with a solid thump!

Oh yes, this was more like it!

I was certain that I was connected to the chub of my dreams until it came to the surface and flashed me a toothy grin…would the hooklength hold?

Kryston Incognito in 5lb breaking strain is tough stuff, if any mono would hold it would be “K-I”, some angers may well have cursed thier luck but not me, its all part of the merry dance and once I am hooked into a fish I very much want to land it…unless it is one of those white flat fish types of creatures that seem to frequent the River Don…I don’t mind the shame of playing an ASDA carrier bag like I am connected to a proper Leviathan but I hate swinging sanitary towels to hand…even the thought that they may have been connected to Megan Fox at some point doesn’t improve my mood on that score.

Sani-towels aside something else to be aware of on rivers that cut through larger cities are the number of needles that can turn up on the bankside, when I was part of the River Don Trust I wanted to see needle bins placed on the River Don to help alleviate the danger for anglers and other river users but the cock sucking pig fuckers from Sheffield Council suggested closing the river to anglers instead.

( Come on Lee…Let the bitterness for Sheffield City Council pass, they cannot help being small minded emotionally retarded Socialist skid marks with less intelligence than a single amoebae and the conscience of a three week dead cat that has been hit with an articulated lorry…It isn’t their fault…They aren’t human)

Back to the Trent…

The sun had gone down and the moon had come up!

And a bloody big moon it was as as well…It didn’t take long for the fish to switch into high gear either…The rod slammed over and the Delkim began a merry warble, there are few things in fishing that can match a Delkim on full note for getting the adrenaline pumping.

This fish felt MASSIVE….I played it hard but carefully, a few snags were found but with a little luck and a modicum of movement I was able to guide the fish to the net and I am ashamed to say that when it hit the net-cord I was a little deflated, I had thought it to have  been a little bigger but when the Reubens said “10lb” I comforted myself in the knowledge that I had another double taking my tally to a respectable 11 for the season.

and double figure barbel number 6 on the week for Hookbait Company’s “Barbel 5″

I think it will be very successful next season when I get to give it a good run out on the river.

A second barbel was soon to follow but this one was obviously a lot smaller and so it did not even get itself wieghed…I would give it 6lb.

Soon however the chub moved in on the 3-B and a quick flurry of Chevins to 3lb 9oz hit the net before it was time to call a halt and head off home.

 

And finally….I almost forgot

 

I caught a river record chub!

It was only a small river and on the grand scale of things it was only a small chub but I have finally started to be useful to the Chub Study Group in that I am presenting them with data that can be complied and worked with.

Until this point I have been a bit of a damp squib in my own opinion as I have not landed anywhere near the numbers of chub that I thought that I would.

The Trent had been a bit huffy with me so I decided to fish one of her little tribs and it was here that I bagged myself a “record”

And to make it even sweeter I saw the fish come out from the raft and take my bread flake offering…The best of days!!