I was determined to get to the Farnborough DAS stretch of the River Blackwater this week, after a two vehicle crash had blocked the road at my last attempt, causing me to divert to my local river Cut. The roads were clear this time and I was parked up 20 minutes later, looking over the bridge at a river desperate for rain. I have never seen the water so clear and shallow and dismissed my intended downstream swim and began a search upstream for something deeper, with enough room to cast and trot a stickfloat. As I walked, I realised that my options were limited, stopping to check every 50 yards, eventually finding a spot that I have fished before, which used to have a foot of water straight off the bank, but now was bare gravel. Tackling up, I was amused to see a trio of mallard ducks giving up trying to swim upstream, instead walking along the exposed gravel on the opposite bank!

I set up with a 2 No 4 pole float, with No 8 shot down the line to a size 14 fine wire barbless hook, overdepth at 2 feet. Being on the outside of a bend, there was good flow and I balled in a mix of ground hempseed, liquidised bread and pink strawberry groundbait. Sitting well back from the bank, I could see the balls break up into a cloud of particles and first drop in, the float dived away upstream with a hard fighting chublet rushing away on the short line. I had to take care swinging it in, as the 12 foot Hardy rattled through the branches above.

Much smaller chublets pulled the float under, as I held back lifting the 7 mm punch of bread clear of the bottom, some fish hooking themselves. The strong downstream wind was no help either, blowing the smaller fish away from my outstretched hand, while trying to avoid the branches overhead.

The next fish of note was a roach, which swam then turned in quick succession, giving that classic thumping fight. Roach filled this swim the last time that I fished it in the winter, but they were missing today.

Dace now came into the swim, giving lightning fast bobs of the float, that often stripped the soft punched bread from the hook. Increasing the tail and depth, while holding back intermittantly, seemed to get more in the net, the soft top of my Hardy float rod, resisting their explosive tumbling fight.

The sun was beginning to set and seeing my float in the shadows was more difficult, often the ripple created, when the float sank being the only sign of a bite. The line jerking forward was too late for the dace, that were long gone with the bait. The chub were braver and held onto the bait for longer.

I had increased the feed rate and the chub had responded, most giving a brief fight when hooked, but a firm take twenty yards down the trot was a different matter, with a decent chub jumping clear of the surface, when the lightweight rod bent into it. Being so shallow, there was nowhere to go for this chub, but to run downstream and I took my fingers off the handle of my ABU 501 to let it freewheel, with the Hardy taking the shocks. It was only seconds, but seemed longer, when the chub turned and began swimming back under load, with bursts of energy, while searching the bottom for snags. I could not raise the rod for fear of becoming caught in the oak leaves above my head, but the white gaping mouth of the chub was on the surface and soon guided to the landing net.

Apologies for the blurred image of this chub, but my tired old camera struggles in low light under trees.

I had expected to fish for longer, but finding a suitable swim had taken precious fishing time, however my short two hour session had been productive in the end, while the bread punch continues to be an effective way to catch a wide variety of fish.