When I think back to the beginning of last season on the rivers, my first thoughts go to the River Dane in Cheshire. It is a river I have always loved above any other and I think I always will. Depending on what stretch you visit, it can be a very peaceful and relaxing session. Don’t expect to catch the biggies though, as the chub in the Dane are mainly in the three to three and a half pound bracket, but no less pleasurable to catch.
Baz on the Dane in summer 2003 (click for bigger picture)
Apart from being my favourite water, it is also good for trying out different methods as you can see the fish, as the water is usually clear, shallow, and only about ten to twelve metres wide, and narrower in parts. It has plenty of over hanging bushes and willows which you can do an easy underarm cast to the opposite bank. An added bonus is that it is relatively snag-free unless you know where to look for them as it has a sandy bottom. The banks themselves are not what I would call high, but in most parts are unsuitable for chairs, all I take to sit on is an unhooking mat, which I made from a piece of foam, covered in a piece of old umbrella fabric that someone had discarded about seven years ago.
I remember the chap that threw this umbrella away one day on a stillwater, because the wind had blown it inside out. Three of us descended on it like a pack of hyenas, scavenging what parts we wanted, one chap had the spike and some of the stays, and myself and the other chap had the covering. Between us we picked it clean and I still have it today, seven years later. Where was I? Yes, don’t bother taking a chair with you because when you put your unhooking mat into one of the bank side depressions it is just like sitting in an armchair and couldn’t be more comfortable.
It was four days before the season opened last year that I took a stroll along the banks of the Dane to see what condition it was in, and I wasn’t disappointed. I started from the downstream swim and walked back upstream, so that any chub I came across would have their backs to me, and I wouldn’t be seen.
“The flake slowly drifted down to them…….” It wasn’t long before I spotted my first couple of chub, they were just holding station in mid river. I immediately froze, holding my breath, and started to crouch down unless I frightened them. I walked out into the field in a half circle, well away from the river so I could position myself upstream of them. Good, they were still there, I kept low and studied the current to see where I would flick a piece of bread flake which would be carried down to them. As the flake slowly drifted down too them, they didn’t move as it passed over their heads, but then the chub turned and came straight to the flake, nuzzled it and then turned away to continue their peaceful vigilance in mid river.
Chub were all over the place, I lost count of how many I had seen, but it was the same old story whenever I floated a piece of flake to them in other swims; all of the chub immediately inspected the bread, but not one of them took it. I can only put this down to the chub not being used to free offerings of bread flake after nearly three months of anglers baits not going in on a fairly regular basis. However, I think this is what got me really thinking about why the chub should refuse bait in any given situation. And I don’t mean just try something else as I have done over the years, but to try and work out just what is going on. But that would come later, and sooner than I thought.
“I had the place to myself” Two weeks into the new season and I was back, only this time I would be doing a bit of fishing. I decided on a swim where I knew that if I was going to catch then this would be the spot. I had prepared my bait some days previously, my rod was already tackled up, and I was raring to go. Fortunately for me I was able to go midweek so I had the place to myself and, as I said earlier, I chose the banker swim so as to give myself as good a start as possible to the new season.
I got myself settled down and gently catapulted some free offerings to the opposite bank. The first lot fell short and landed about eight feet in front of me, but I didn’t think it would cause me any problems and proceeded to fire more bait out at about two minute intervals. Not much, only about twenty to thirty grains of hempseed at a time, as I wanted to build the swim up slowly. I didn’t start fishing straight away, but decided to wait and give the chub a chance to settle on the feed.
In the company of a green woodpecker, a mink and a magpie There is always something happening around you on the river, and while I was waiting for my swim to settle, I watched a green woodpecker hopping about on the bank about fifty yards away, screeching away to its self. Whilst further upstream a mink was rummaging about in the undergrowth. It was the first time I saw one climb a tree, but this one did, as it was after a magpie that was perched on the end of a branch. The Maggie flew off before the mink got anywhere near it though.
Baz with another River Dane chub – this time in winter (click for bigger picture)
Twenty minutes had passed, and I could see the flanks of the chub flashing under the water as the sun caught them. My free offerings had been going in at a steady rate and it was time to start fishing. On this occasion I was using meat, and my bait had hardly settled when the rod tip gave the first indication of movement, then it went round at an alarming rate, and I missed it. I also missed the next three good bites. At this rate I was going to make a right Henry out of things, however I soon started catching and amazingly I hadn’t spooked them. I had four nice chub all around the three pound mark in the next hour.
No keepnet, so no bites Sooner or later it had to happen and my swim went dead, however I kept the feed going in and could still see the chub in the swim. Half an hour passed and I didn’t get a bite, and was beginning to wonder what was going wrong. I wasn’t using a keepnet and was releasing the chub right in front of me, and as the chub didn’t have far to swim before being back with the rest of the shoal, this was probably the reason why I stopped getting bites.
I noticed that where I had misfired some free offerings, there were half a dozen nice chub mopping up the hempseed and meat. The chub were only eight feet in front of me and I had a grandstand view of watching them feed. I also knew that there were still chub in my original swim but weren’t having it.
I didn’t want to make too much disturbance but got more free offerings out to the feeding chub, then I removed my weight from my line and gently and slowly cast past where I could see the feeding fish and reeled gently back amongst the shoal. I could see my hook bait easily and watched as one of the chub came up to it and took the bait, it didn’t mouth the bait but sucked it straight in, and almost immediately blew it out again. My line did not make so much as even the slightest of twitches. From that point every chub that came towards the hookbait only came within about a foot of it and then turned away; they obviously knew that something was wrong with that particular piece of food.
How many times must this happen when we are fishing swims too far away to see what is going on and are left thinking that there must be no fish in that particular area?
Anyhow I pulled the hookbait gently back from where it was being rejected by about two feet and waited. This time I was ready, and as a chub came to the bait, and with no hesitation this time took the bait, I struck. The water erupted and I wished I could have had that moment on film – it was pure magic! The result was a nice chub of three and a half pounds, and a lesson learned as well.
Mid Season On The Ribble I fished the Ribble last season for the chub. It is very different from the Dane, in that the Dane is a lot smaller and fish location is relatively easy.
I had only had three chub and eight barbel. But it was the chub I was trying to target. That’s my excuse anyway and I’m sticking to it.
But what a fantastic learning curve the Ribble is. I had been fortunate enough to meet up with a number of anglers, some of whom have solved the puzzle, and others like myself who are still learning. Location is the key word, I suspect, more so than the actual bait you are using. I caught equally on caster and paste, but the best bites came on paste, and the best fish came to caster at 4lb 12oz.
There are parts of the Ribble where using caster or pellet would almost be impossible because you would attract far too many eels. Personally I think you need to put in the time and find out what areas require different baits. When dusk starts to fall that is when I go on paste or some other smelly bait, because one thing that I have learned on the Ribble, that is when the chub really start to hunt about, whereas during daylight they do not tend to move far from their lairs for most of the time.
There are miles of the Ribble to go at and finding their daytime hiding places is more difficult than what it seems. I think that a roving type of approach is only part of the answer, ie, spend no more than one or two hours in an area possibly with a float rod to try and cover as much water as possible, and then move somewhere else.
It would be far too easy to continually fish the banker swims each and every week, but I much prefer to move about and find new areas.
Into the autumn, and feeding habits will possibly change again, but I have always preferred the winter.
All in all, from the time that I started fishing the Ribble last year I feel I have learned a lot from other people and also from what I have been doing myself. Possibly next season I will be able to put everything together and hopefully get amongst the chub a lot more easily. Although I have had a few blank sessions in that short spell last summer, I never came off the river feeling disappointed and that I’d wasted my time. On each visit I have come away feeling that I had learned something new. Looking back I can honestly say that my methods and the way in which I approach a new fishing day has improved tremendously, and can only get better still as time goes by.
Back To The Dane Sunday 15th February 2004
It was a mild day with some bright sunshine, and I couldn’t decide whether to go fishing or not. The water temperature was 48 degrees, so the prospects should be fair. In the end I decided to travel light with just a shoulder bag with a small box of tackle in it, plus the obligatory flask of tea. Something that has cost me a fair number of fish over the years, and needs no further explanation, but I get the shakes at just the thought of leaving it behind.
As the weather was quite mild I decided to dispense with the thermal gear and just put warm clothing on, which would be better suited to my roaming tactics which I had decided to do, as I wanted to cover the whole stretch of the river, and I hadn’t been right up to the end as yet. I was also hoping to have a chat with any anglers I came across as to what the fishing was like.
There were quite a few anglers on the river when I arrived and I decided to fish the first available peg that I came across.
My rod was already tackled up, so with a nice underarm lob with a quarter ounce lead I sent it flying into the far bank bushes and lost the lot. What an expert!
I quickly re-tackled and cast again, this time I got it right. After twenty minutes and only a couple of very cagey knocks, I decided to cast upstream; again I expertly put the end tackle in the far bank bushes, arrgghhh!!
So I tackled up yet again and had a brew. I then decided to have a move towards the far end of the stretch, but stopped along the way in a good looking swim but didn’t have a touch, so this time I moved right towards the end of the stretch. There was a chap fishing so I put my gear down and quietly went up to him and asked how he was doing.
“Fish my peg,” he said I told him I hadn’t been up this far before, and he was good enough to tell me what he had caught in previous sessions, and how to go about it. This chap, whose name I didn’t get, then suggested that I fish his peg as he was going. He told me that he had caught three barbel around the six pound mark and three chub. The swim was also baited up for me. How could I refuse?
There were overhanging trees to either side of me, plus bushes along the far bank, which made casting awkward. This chap then told me to reel my lead almost to the tip, move further to my right and do a sideways cast into the area he had baited up. After only about five minutes I got my first bite, which resulted in a chub over four pounds, the biggest yet that I had caught on this stretch of the Dane. I had another three chub off this peg before it went quiet, probably due to me not feeding it as I had only brought minimal tackle and bait with me. I dropped back about fifty yards downstream as I suspected the fish had also dropped back, and sure enough I caught another one, five in total. The roaming tactics had worked, I found my angler, who put me on to the chub and had a great afternoon’s fishing.
When I finally packed in and got back to the car, I met an angler who I had spoken to earlier. He told me that he had two chub, but a lot of other anglers had blanked, but these people were fishing the well-known swims and also as they were in full thermal gear they didn’t feel like moving about too much. The lesson to be learned is dress accordingly, travel light, and take full advantage of any information given when you are in a new area.
The database was another idea that I borrowed from an FM member, along with advice and help that I got from other members. It made last season more enjoyable than usual. Thanks to everyone concerned.