What do you do when nowhere is fishing? You try somewhere else of course. For one reason, or the other this has been the case for me lately and this week I travelled to one of my banker swims on the River Blackwater controlled by the Farnborough and District club, where big roach and dace have been guaranteed, although pike have also been a certainty, which is why I’ve stopped going there.

Another reason has been the difficulty in finding a parking spot, due to the presence of a “Jump” trampolining facility across the road, which of course I’d not realised that it was the Half Term school holidays and cars lined both sides of the road, with a long queue of cars being directed by an overwhelmed, teenaged young lady, not used harassed drivers with children in the back asking the inevitable, “Are we there yet!”

She spotted my desperate look and flagged me through and I turned off down the council service road to the river, managing to squeeze my car into the turning bay. It was already well past noon and I was keen to get fishing, bearing in mind the one hour earlier lighting up time. I loaded my trolley and made my way to the favourite swim and was pleased to see that it was empty, although less pleased with depth of the river from the high bank, being able to see every feature of the bottom, while trees from the opposite bank now hung over to the middle. I usually fish from the top of the swim, where a left hand bend pushes the flow down the opposite bank, but now the trees would restrict my rod. Problems, problems? Stop whingeing Ken, cut in a new swim and get fishing!

This swim gave cover over the shallows ahead of me, setting my tackle box back from the bank, while there was now a convenient back eddy, which carried my keepnet back upstream into deeper water. Despite the shallows, there was still a good flow and I set up with a 5 No 4 ali stemmed stick float to a size 16 barbless hook, with 6 mm punch of bread on a long tail. Plumbing the depth the deepest point was hard over to the opposite bank, but this swim had a gravel bar with only 18 inches of water over it ten yards down stream, where the flow split from the far side.

I put a couple of small balls of groundbait two thirds over and watched them break up as they rolled along the bottom, casting downstream and across to follow them down. I had expected a bite first cast, but had to wait for a second ball before the float stabbed under, bringing a roach to the surface immediately, lightly hooked in the lip, I netted it.

Not a big roach for this swim, I expected larger, but always tend to take a photo of my first fish. The bites were fussy, dips and bobs, with the bread stolen from the hook often, until I hooked my next fish, a small dace, that rattled off the hook. Dace, this is what they do, especially the small ones. They attack the hook bait, stripping the hook. With casters, or maggot, they shell the casters and reduce the maggots to skins in seconds. Holding back hard, the dace will often hook themselves, but being five inch fish they had no weight to stay on in this fast water.

I could have waited for the larger roach to swim up through the dace, but instead threw the  groundbait further upstream and cast down over the gravel bar, then held back, let it run, and held back again. The float sank and another roach splashed over the surface. This was better.

Small dace were still being hooked and lost, while small roach were playing with the bait. I stopped for a cup of tea and a sandwich, while I mixed up some more groundbait. I mixed in some ground hemp and bunched shot at the hook link, as I felt that the small roach and dace were taking the punch as it swung up, when I held back. When the better roach are there, they just take it, but this shoal were not that interested. Bulking the shot seemed to work, as the next fish was a good roach, that hugged the far bank.

Trotting further down, the float lifted, then turned right across the stream, then sank. I struck, there was a swirl from a big fish that kicked, then bore away down stream taking line, while I back wound the reel. I had seen a carp under the opposite bank, while tackling up, was this it? My 14 foot Browning was bent over with the weight of the fish in the current. I was aware of the size 16 barbless hook and hoped that it would hold, as it now swam toward me upstream, with the odd kick to let me know that it was there. Ten yards away it turned with a swirl. A small pike of about two pounds, not giving up, ruining my swim. Soon it was wallowing on the shallows out of reach of my landing net. I pulled its head up and drew it closer. It jumped and broke the line, firing the float into the tree above me. The pike was still there out of reach of my three metre landing net pole. Just lying there, played out in a few inches of water. I was in luck with the float, the shot was tangled in the leaves above me and a long pull freed it.

I considered making up the float again, or using another on a spare made up rig, but the pike now working its way back to deeper water, had probably put the fish down. The light was already going at 3 pm and decided that this was going to be yet another potentially good session cut short.

The River Blackwater has a fantastic head of fish, but pike have proved to be one the great survivors, that can sense small fish activity created by anglers, homing in until it reaches its quarry, often a hooked fish.

Some nice roach there, shame about the pike.