Record daytime temperatures and humidity have kept me inside watching Netflix, rather than baking in the sun trying to temp lethargic fish into feeding, but a forecast of cooling winds and possible rain drew me out this week. My local river Cut is shaded by trees, while protected from the worst wind by its steep sided valley, so it was my first choice of venue for a late afternoon session, being ready to fish at 3:30pm. Walking downstream to my preferred swim, I was surprised to see how low the river was, with minimal flow and decided to turn round and head back upstream toward the confluence, where the river passes over gravel shallows, before entering a long bend carving out a deeper channel that runs along the tree lined opposite bank.

Setting up on the inside of the bend, mudflats extended out from the bank, while the bottom was visible right across. Plumbing the depth there was less than two feet of water at the deepest part close to the far bank and set up my 14 foot browning with a 6 No 4 Ali stemmed stick float, over depth with the shot bulked beneath the float and a single No 4  nine inches from the hook. This rig allows control to the heavy float, while the bread punch bait can be lifted clear of the bottom as it is inched down the flow. That is my theory anyway.

I mixed up my usual groundbait, liquidised bread, ground carp pellets, ground hemp and strawberry flavouring, putting over two firm egg sized balls close to the bank, watching them sink, then break up along the bottom. First cast over with an 8 mm punch on the size 14 barbless hook, I straightened the line to the float and it sank, bringing a hard fighting gudgeon swinging over to hand.

Next cast I struck and saw the flash of a fish as it turned over, seeing a roach running up stream before rolling on the surface, bringing it over toward the landing net.

More roach followed, many taking on the drop as the bread drifted down to the bottom. The float sailed off downstream and I connected to a mini explosion of power as a good sized dace rolled and bucked beneath the surface, giving line to avoid the hook pulling out. A handful of writhing muscle, these dace never know when to give up fighting.

The net was steadily filling, when the rod top bent over and kept going. I initially I thought that it was a small carp, but the run stopped, being replaced by head shaking. I could not see what the fish was, but got my landing net ready as the head of a perch came to the surface. Guiding the perch to the net, a shape appeared behind it, which looked like a long silvery eel following. It was a very big mirror carp, the line of large scales along it’s back being visible first. The carp had obviously been handled recently, as ragged layers of slime were apparent. It’s nose was only inches from the rim of the net and a possible lunge would have netted the curious fish, but it turned and glided off downstream.

A commotion upstream drew my attention. A group of teenagers, boys and girls with several dogs were  arguing. The dogs were running about in the river upstream, but one of the girls was holding onto a poodle, stopping it from entering the river, worried that it would drown, all was solved, when the poodle jumped from her arms into the shallows, followed by two of the girls screaming. Oh the joys of fishing in a public park.

 

At one time I had two dogs paddling through my swim. I put the rod down, had a cup of tea and slice of current bread, then mixed up some more groundbait. The noisy group wandered off downstream and I started again after a liberal groudbaiting session.

The roach were soon back on the feed, the closer to the opposite bank, the bigger they were.

These roach are just a sample of many, which also included dace, gudgeon and small chub, which it is hoped will soon grow to give Braybrook members sport on the Cut.

It had grown very dark, then rained for twenty minutes, but the fish had continued to feed and I called it a day at 6:30. Three hours of constant action. I had expected to contact at least one carp, but maybe next time.

 

 

 

 

It has been a while since I have visited the weir that pours into the River Cut from the local Thames Water Treatment Works below the town. Traditionally Monday was always Washing Day and today seemed no different, as soapy suds swirled around the confluence of the slow moving Cut, creating a powerful eddy.

Roach and chub are the main target here, where the stick float with bread punch and ground bait feed can be relied on to provide exciting sport. Although under three feet deep, I set up with a 6 N0 4 ali stemmed stick to a size 14 barbless hook, as there is a strong undertow in the eddy and being shallow, better fish tend to rush off into the fast water once hooked, so a rapid backwind, or lift of the finger from the ABU 501 spool is required.

Mixing up liquidised bread and ground pellets with a liberal covering of coarsely ground hemp, I damped the ground bait down to form stiff balls, that would sink quickly to coat the bottom of the eddy and draw fish up from the outfall. After a couple of balls upstream into the quieter water, my first cast saw the float bob, then slowly sink and I swung in a hand sized roach.

That was a good start. Another 8 mm punch on the hook and the float was back in, sinking immediately. These roach are not shy biters.

The flow of the eddy was changing and bites were coming closer to the whitewater, the float pulling under as I held back and I thought that a bigger fish had taken, when it took the full force of the river as it dived away, but a small chub was the result.

This was turning into a mixed bag session, a change of species again, when a big dace fought all the way through the foam to the landing net, which was extended to three metres to reach the thrashing fish from the high bank.

No sooner had I netted the dace, solid resistance saw an even bigger fish head off down the river, while I backwound to stay in touch. This had to be a better chub, my 14 foot Browning bending into the run, but no, a flash of red fins telling me that it was the best roach yet, when it broached mid river. The fight was not going to be over, until it was in the net and I leaned out over the steep bank once again to reach the roach. Lift!! I thought that I could end up with a slipped disc, or a double hernia at this rate.

I decided to swing them in from now on, but after a few more roach swung in and I was chasing another big roach through the foam. The bank was too steep at this point to attempt leaving the safety of my tackle box to get closer to the water and once more my back took the strain.

I had been forced onto this higher bank, as my usual spot now had a broken branch hanging down in front of it. Behind me was another tree that prevented me from pulling my rod back from the vertical to sweep fish into the net. The thought of trying to land a big chub from this high point flashed through my mind. Don’t think about it, worry about it if it happens. Watch what you wish for! This chub was not a monster, but gave me the run around. Dropping down to the bend in a power dive, it turned back to the Cut and buried itself in debris opposite me. Letting the line go slack saw it swim out on the second attempt and the fight continued to the net. Aargg! More agony.

Regular feeding of small balls had meant that I’d run out of ground bait and needed to mix up some more. I took the time as a rest period, drinking some tea and eating a sandwich. The morning had started overcast, but then the sun had come out leaving me in the shadows, while the air had heated up becoming humid. The sun was now baring directly on my black teeshirt. A big mistake. On the high bank, I could see details on the bottom in the clear water opposite. Bright clothing may have put the fish off. All the fish I was catching now were coming from the edge of the foam.

I rebaited with a couple more balls of feed and the float ran a foot before zooming away, I expected another one of the four inch chublets, that I had been catching all day, but the rod was bending again as I followed an unseen roach around the eddy. I wasn’t going to swing this one in and scooped it into the net with one dip.

The feed kept going in and the roach kept taking the punch.

I’d set my finishing time to be 2 pm. It was too hot to continue, but the fish wouldn’t let me stop. I was in that just one more mode. Again this chub was not big, but hard work to get in from the fast water.

I even caught a lone rudd.

I played a better chub back from the foam, only for it dive into the bank under my feet, just as I prepared my aching body to net it. Prodding the tangle of twigs persuaded it out and I netted the lot. Heave Ho. The hook had been dumped into a branch on the outside of it’s lip. Lucky.

 

One last roach took it to three hours of fishing; I could have kept going, but the outfall had reduced and the Cut where my keepnet was pegged, had reduced in depth by 6 inches, exposing the top loops. There were a lot of fish in there.

 

No need for expensive baits here. Total cost, under 50 pence.