November! Traditionally it’s a tough month of the year for anglers (well maybe not all, but definitely for me). The temperatures start to drop at a rapid rate and the nights become longer and colder, which normally puts most species of fish off the feed for a short while until they have acclimatised to a steady lower water temperature. This doesn’t mean I don’t fish, far from it. I try and put twice as much effort in as not only will I need to work that bit harder due to what I’ve already mentioned but with December being my busiest month of the year at work it’s very rare that I get to fish until the new year once November is over.
With that in mind I decided to spend the first couple of days of the month pike fishing. We had a high pressure front moving in bringing with it cold, clear nights and unsurprisingly the river was low and clear. I had a couple of days off work and had decided to fish a venue I’d never seen before; I figured travelling light using a roving approach would be the most suitable method, enabling me to drop into as many likely looking spots as possible and repeating the process if need be.
Arriving at the fishery just before first light I couldn’t wait to get started, the walk across a few fields was over seemingly quickly before the river came into view. The first swim I came to was a nice big slack on the inside of a big sweeping bend, perfect! On the rivers 90% of the time I use a paternostered Baitbox deadbait, either sardine or herring, but I always carry a few extra species just in case. I prefer a paternostered bait over other presentations as it puts the bait in the sight line of any feeding pike and there’s very little chance of the bait becoming snagged on the bottom.
When using this rig it’s vital to use an uptrace above the hook trace, as occasionally the deadbait can become tangled on the cast and an uptrace just prevents a pike biting you off and leaving a trace in its mouth. Clipping on a trace and casting out a sardine to the edge of the crease I sat back and enjoyed my first coffee of the day whilst I watched my float bob about in the flow. I felt the swim was worth an hour as there was plenty of water for a pike to lie up in but it wasn’t to be. I was soon on the move and figured I’d walk the stretch to the bottom, make a note of any good looking swims, then fish them on the return.
Well… three to four hours later, having walked several miles, I had found nothing that I felt would hold pike. I was hot, bothered and in all honesty a bit frustrated (wearing chest waders & a full Nash ZT winter fleece/jacket doesn’t lend itself to a lot of walking).
After all of that I decided to simply drop back into the swim I had started my day in and spend all afternoon exploring every nook and cranny of it. Casting out I laid my rod on the floor whilst I grabbed a bite to eat, when all of a sudden I heard the Baitrunner give a couple of clicks. I instantly looked at the float to see it dip and move slightly; winding down the rod took on a healthy curve and all of the walking and searching was forgotten as a fish powered off into the flow and it wasn’t long before a nice low double of around 12lb was lying in the bottom of the net.
The fish was quickly released and I was soon swinging another bait onto the edge of the flow; amazingly the float had barely settled before it was doing a merry dance before disappearing under the surface. There was soon another fish, almost identical to the first, in the net – wow, nothing from this swim earlier in the day and now two in as many minutes.
The trace had taken a bit of a battering so I spent a few minutes sorting my rig out before bait number three was sent splashing into the pike’s lair. The third take was a bit longer in coming… all of minutes! There was a slight lift of the float before it buried at a rate of knots and headed for mid river, I wound down and struck…into thin air!
Damn, missed it!
Reeling the bait in it I found that it had several deep lacerations but was still whole so I cast it back to the same spot. Again it was only a matter of minutes before it showed signs of life and started to move upstream, I was on it in a flash and the thump on the end of my line showed I hadn’t missed this one. It felt in a different league to the previous two fish and gave a really good account of itself. It was soon ready for the net and its length had me thinking ‘20’ but upon lifting it out of the water there wasn’t quite enough bulk to match the length. It still pulled the scales down to a satisfying 17lb though, which was plenty big enough for me. I fished on until the sun was just a glow behind the distant hills signalling it was home time.
The following week I was once again heading for the river, this time I had been given permission to stay overnight in the salmon hut so I could string a couple of days together. Again it was a venue I had never pike fished before but one which I had barbel fished back in the summer so I had a little knowledge of the stretch to get me started.
The plan was exactly the same as the previous week, stay mobile and cover as much water as possible in the hope of locating a few fish. I fished hard, extremely hard, but I don’t think a pike even breathed in the direction of my bait all day so I retired to the salmon hut to reflect on the day and try to think of a different approach to adopt on day two.
My alarm sounded an hour before day break, I reluctantly dragged myself from my warm sleeping bag and fired up the kettle for my first brew of the day. Opening the door an icy blast hit me, boy it was cold, and everything had a thick layer of frost on it. I’d decided to fish a deadbait the same as the previous day and fish around it with a lure rod in the hope of finding a sulking pike.
With a long drive home on the cards I’d decided that if nothing was forthcoming by lunchtime I’d head home. Well, to cut a long story short, that’s exactly what happened and by mid-afternoon I was home having blanked for two days but having thoroughly enjoyed myself and having explored a new water I could still take some positives from a difficult trip.
The month was disappearing fast and despite the good session at the beginning I was now struggling. Checking the weather forecast religiously prior to my next couple of days off work it was apparent there was a band of low pressure moving in bringing with it lots of warm wet rain. Bearing this in mind I made sure my barbel gear was ready and made a batch of smelly paste up (the Mrs really didn’t appreciate the smell of NashBait’s Shellfish Sense Appeal wafting around the house but needs must). Armed with my stinky paste and enough gear for a two-day river assault my confidence was high as I left the house. Unfortunately the one thing the weather forecasters hadn’t said was that the rain was going to be of biblical proportions!
I headed to my chosen venue and upon arrival it was quite obvious I had no chance, the surrounding fields were full of water and rising never mind what was actually happening in the river itself. I knew of another stretch some ten miles downstream that had high banks and could possibly be fishable, if only for a short time. I headed off and the sheer volume of water that was pouring off the surrounding hills and onto the roads was staggering. It was an experience itself just getting there and I’m sure my poor Honda Civic didn’t appreciate it.
Upon arrival I surveyed the scene I was faced with and decided that it was just about fishable as long as I kept a clear exit route in mind and kept an eye on the levels. I set up and dropped a bait in behind two bushes that, in normal level, were eight to ten feet above the water but were now partly submerged. Sticking a bankstick in as a gauge for how fast the water was rising, I was happy to fish as I knew my bait was sat on a clean gravel bottom, albeit with ten feet of raging water over the top of it whereas in normal conditions there was only two feet!
Keeping an eye on my bankstick the river rose six inches in only ten minutes and it was dangerously close to coming over the top of the bank. There was only one thing for it – I headed off home while I still could.
A lot of anglers seem to glorify floodwater fishing these days, even to the point of wading across waist deep floodwater to fish. Well I’m sorry but no fish is worth your life and to openly promote fishing in such extreme conditions is extremely irresponsible. If the river is flooded but still in its banks then by all means have a go but once it’s over the top of the bank the odds are stacked heavily against you and it really isn’t worth it.
As a last word on floodwater fishing there are a few things that are extremely important to bear in mind: Always tell someone where you’re going and keep your phone dry, only fish venues you know well and, if possible, wear a life jacket.
That just about brings me up to date with my fishing activity for the month of November. With me being a head chef my fishing time in December is extremely limited – perhaps to a day, two at best but once January comes I will once again have the bit between my teeth and with the end of the river season on the horizon I will be raring to go.
Despite not having the opportunity to do much fishing in December I will have a blog on FishingMagic early in the New Year that will be taking a look back at the highs and lows of my fishing in 2012, so I hope you will be able to join me then.
