Following weeks of parched UK weather and a heatwave, the long awaited start of the 2025 river season, did not augur well for decent catches. My first session was in the afternoon of the 16th, another hot day, that saw me searching for shade along a stretch of the River Blackwater, that meanders around a number of carp lakes belonging to a new club membership, Hartley Wintney AS. Being a carp water, the river banks have been neglected, with plenty of dead trees blocking the flow, but these gave a very chubby look to it. I found a swim with a good trot around the outside of a bend, that passed beneath a fallen tree. Perfect. I took a picture with my camera, but it came out very dark with the contrast against the bright sunlight.

I set up my 14 foot Browning, with a 5 No 4 ali stemmed stick float, following a couple of balls of liquidised bread, crushed pellets and hemp, after plumbing the depth indicated an even three feet of water, although several false bites brought twigs to the surface. I shallowed up and introduced another ball of feed. Halfway down the trot, the float ran down stream and a small chub splashed across the surface. This would do as a start, bound to be a few bigger ones down there.

No such luck. Going up to an 8 mm punch from the 7 mm, just meant missed bites. Down to a 6 mm and I got solid unmissable bites everytime. I was swinging in number 10, when the bailiff appeared asking for my permit. He checked the number off on his phone and asked how I was getting on. Saying that I was hoping for some bigger chub, his reply was that the chub were spawning at the moment, the gravels fifty yards downstream were full of chasing chub. This I had to see and we went down to a fast run about a foot deep, where the water was black with chub, four ounces and upwards to four pounds. I was standing on a high bank looking down on this frenzy of fish. They were not spooked, they had just one thing on their minds.

Show over, I went back to my rod and balled up the last of my groundbait, fishing for another half hour. The sun had moved round and I was now in direct sunlight. It was time to go before rush hour, being stuck in traffic in this heat was not ideal. I hadn’t even put my keep net in, waiting for something decent to take the bread. At least it had been entertaining, these chublets fighting deep and hard for the first 30 seconds.

Fast forward another week and we had welcomed brief thunder storms and cloudier conditions, although in the open, the sun was still very hot. This afternoon I was back on the Blackwater a few miles upstream, on another stretch controlled by Hartley Wintney, here the river was bright and fast flowing, with bank to bank water weed called Alarmy in places. Upstream was a fast flowing weir.

Retracing my steps, I found a mud bank on the inside of the a bend, where it was obvious that another angler had kindly toiled to clear the middle channel of Alarmy, allowing a float to trot along the opposite bank.

There was a deeper channel my side of the weed and I lobbed a couple of balls of groundbait mix just upstream and cast in with a 5 No 4 stick float, with a 7 mm punch on size 14 barbless hook. As the float settled, it dipped and slowly submerged. The strike produced a rattly reponse from a tumbling ball of silver, that come off. In again, this dace reach open water, before coming off. I was using my 14 foot Browning rod, it was too stiff for these small fish. The 12 foot Hardy was already made up in the fish ready case, which was ideal for these small fish, but it would have no chance against a big chub, or bream. The next dace I handled with kid gloves, drawing it close enough to lift to my hand. A decent size compared to the chublets of last week.

Back in, I bounced another dace, but the next cast was a better fish, a small chub that fought deep and stayed on.

A few small gudgeon were now troubling the bait and so threw more groundbait over beyond the middle to the faster flowing water along the opposite bank. This gave me a longer trot, but the wind had picked up, constantly changing direction, causing problems with float control. I managed to mend the line and slow the float, it buried and I was playing a hard fighting roach, which I managed to get through the weed in the middle.

Every time that I was able to slow the float, the float went down and stayed down and roach were coming to the net.

Another nice roach taken from an underhand cast to the far side. I was still losing dace, very good fish, that would not stop tumbling on the surface, or swam into the rafts of surface weed.

A problem, or rather four problems now appeared downstream. Three golden retrievers and a black and white spaniel, ran along the bank, chasing a bright red ball into the water. One of the retrievers, grabbed the ball in it’s mouth, chased by one of the others and began swimming upstream toward me. Ten yards short of me, a female voice called the dogs back and they returned to their owner. I now watched the lady take the ball from a dog, put it in the claw of a throwing stick and lob it out into the middle at the bottom of my swim. Crash! They all dived in after the ball and a repeat perfomance followed as they churned up the river. Great fun for the dogs and a weak, “Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” At least they had managed to rip some more weed out. The bites stopped for 15 minutes.

I hooked a deep bodied fish at the bottom of the trot, which flashed over on the far side, either a big roach, or a skimmer bream, which doggedly held it’s ground, before burying itself in the weed.  I slackened off and it swam out, but then ran further down into the weed. I give more slack line and it dumped the hook, leaving me with just a few strands of weed on the hook.

Something strange now occurred, my swim filled with spawning bream, some of them massive fish of at least 5 lb. A few at first, then many more. They were zooming about, topping and rolling through the weeds. Chub last week, bronze bream this week. I constantly cast among them in the vain hope that they would take my bread. I had a good bite, the float held down and I lifted, not a bream, but a good roach, which dashed about in the clear water, then into the landing net.

I’d started fishing at noon and it was now only 2:30, but I was worn out, just not match fit. Constantly casting the Browning fourteen footer, keeping the rod high to keep the line clear of the weed, while perched on a tackle box with the legs extended, due to the slope, where my right foot was clear of the ground, had taken it’s toll. My back was killing me! I hadn’t even used up all my groundbait.

I think the answer is more fishing to boost my stamina, or start fishing the feeder in a laid back chair!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Friday had been a very eventful day one way, or another and usually Friday evenings are spent watching BBC gardening programmes, with a glass of whiskey and a packet of crisps, but I was feeling restless and in need of catching some decent fish from Allsmoor Pond. Used to my sudden whims, my wife prepared a flask, while I loaded up my Best Purchase of the Year, the folding fishing trolley, which was literally ready to roll in the time that the kettle was boiled and the tea made. The pond is a ten minute walk from home and I was soon setting up my Edgemonster pole and mixing a strawberry flavoured groundbait by 7 pm.

The groundbait was formed into egg sized balls, firm enough to lob ten metres into the target area, but able to break up on hitting the surface, as only 600 mm of water covers the deep black silt on the bottom. The 4 x 16 antenna float was soon tracking away and under, as small rudd began running off with the 7mm punch of bread, often dropping off, before the pole was shipped back in. Soon the groundbait was having an effect and better sized rudd were swinging to hand.

The fed area now had a dark stain of silt on the surface, a sign that larger fish were rooting around sucking in the groundbait and I went up to a 10mm bread punch. Instead of the slow tracking lift bite of a rudd, the float disappeared in a second, followed by the surface line. My instinctive lift of the Edgemonster pole, saw the heavy red elastic curve round toward the lily bed on the right, extending as the unseen fish made for the sanctury of the roots. With the pole still at 8 metres, I pulled steadily to the left to stop the run. The size 14 bartbless hook set firm and a carp broke surface, arcing away from the lillies, but charging on towards those opposite. Like restraining a dog on a leash, I kept enough pressure on to persuade the carp to follow my lead, finally feeding the pole behind me, to break down at the top three joints, then pull the carp across the surface to the waiting landing net.

The carp were now in the mood and the float was gone in seconds, this time a smaller fish was on, that ran left and right, then headed toward me and into the net in less than a minute, continuing the fight in my hand, as if it was camera shy!

Another angler had set up in the gap opposite, fishing at the edge of the lillies in front of him with a stepped up carp rod. I no longer fish this swim, having lost too many carp there in the past. He said that he had landed an eight pound common there earlier in the week and lost another. He was giving a blow by blow running commentary as I played each fish, which was amusing, comparing it to a horse race in style. “He’s hooked another one, look at it go! The net is out, steady, steady and it’s in the net!” Luckily I didn’t lose any fish!

It was now past 8 pm and the light was going fast and my camera was not coping too well, the photos losing deinition and colour, which I didn’t discover, until I had downloaded them.

Being a wild pond, not a commercial, every time I struck was a different sized fish, a four ounce common, followed by a half pound crucian, then a two pound common, or a brown gold fish/crucian hybrid, even a few more rudd. Below is one of the last decent photos. In that last hour, I landed a dozen carp.

Although it was still light enough to see and fish, I packed up at 9 pm. This session had been a lesson to me. The 10mm punch had kept the smaller fish at bay long enough for the carp to find the bread.

I had to put the camera flash on for the final net photo. I was pleased to see such a wide spread of fish, all types and sizes.