Despite carp being an all consuming passion,
I’ve always been very much an all-rounder and
enjoy angling for a variety of species. I’ve
always had a soft spot for running water, and
so an invite to take part in a Stoney and Friends
fish in on the Stour at Throop was snapped up as soon
as it came in; especially as it involved spending
a night on the bank.
The actual Saturday night arrived suddenly, due to
my forgetting which weekend it was! I hadn’t time to
sort the kit out, and was a little unsure what the
river was like. Therefore I went with kit that would
make the purist cringe; a pair of 2Ib Sportex rods
couple with baitrunners and 17Ib mainline. Heavy –
but with the size of the barbel inhabiting the
stretch, I felt happier going a little OTT,
than finding myself undergunned.
On arrival at the stretch, it was a little smaller
than I expected, and the water level was low. I
wandered round and discussed prospects with those
already there. To be honest, it didn’t look all that
good; the bottom was visible for perhaps 70% of the
stretch. Those areas that did look good were already
taken after my late arrival. I wasn’t thrilled at the
idea of setting up in a swim which was clearly devoid
of fish, and spent the next couple of hours wandering
around, gazing into the streamer weed praying that I’d
be able to spot a big old barbel lazing around. I didn’t
manage a barbel sighting, but I did see a promising
silvery flash in a deep glide above the weir. Coupled
with a downstream angler seeing a few good chub it
seemed as good a prospect as was to be found anywhere,
and I settled in. Dedicated flake and touch ledgering
techniques enthusiast may wish to stop reading here;
I introduced about 20 18mm boilies and a few handfuls
of pellets alongside the streamer weed, whilst I put
up the brolly and bedchair. Reading a book for an hour
or two, I eventually decided to introduce the hookbaits.
These were 18mm baits, wrapped in paste and fished on
very short hairs to size six hooks on heavy mono hookinks.
These were fished with a 4oz lead. Brutal tactics maybe,
but I’ve always found aggressive bolt rigging tactics
to be very effective against shy biters of any species,
with the bonus of landing pretty much everything you
hook. A small backlead 3ft up the line completed the
set-up. I attached a couple of PVA bags of crushed boilies,
and swung the rigs out to where the bait had been introduced.
I then set the rods down on the buzzers and attached the
bobbins (I warned you!). Again; lightish bobbins on a long
drop provide very little resistance compared to even the
softest quiver.
Just a few pages into my book, the right hand bobbin
pulled up, and a few ticks came from the baitrunner –
lifting the rod resulted in little resistance, and a
bream of a few pounds was eased into the net. Not
something to set the world alight – but I hadn’t blanked,
and was perfectly happy. I added a few more baits, and
re-did the rods with fresh PVA bags on.
Throughout the evening I suffered from constant short
pulls and lifts on the bobbins. Something was definitely
occurring out there, and I was quite confident of some
action. I was proved right when I received a fast run a
few hours after dark. I lifted the rod, and a decent fish
thumped heavily on the other end. With weed all around
the swim, and in the pitch black, the fight was dramatic,
but short, and a decent chub was in the net. I was over
the moon – I’d looked on this trip as a pleasant change
of surroundings, and this chub was a big bonus! Even more
of a bonus was the weight – 5Ib 8oz; an ounce from my PB,
and, even in his age of donkey chub, a satisfying and
impressive beast. I was certainly chuffed, and collared a
neighbouring angler to get a couple of shots. These came
out OK, and the fish swam strongly off into the river
when released – job done!
I figured an angry chub would have spooked off his
mates, and took the opportunity to add a few handfuls of
pellets and boilies. I re-did both the rods with fresh
baits and bags, and turned in for the night. I struggled
for sleep though, as I managed to smash a leg on my
bedchair, and was soon suffering from untold liners
again. I drifted off to sleep eventually, and was woken
at about two in the morning by a fast take on the same
rod. The fight was a repeat of the first fish, being a
few minutes of plodding and fast runs, and I was glad
to be tooled up a little heavy. I slipped the net under
the fish, scooped it up, and was greeted by a chub
clearly bigger than the first glinting under the light of
the headtorch. I was chuffed at the first fish; I was
buzzing now – absolutely amazing. I remember reading
books like Rainbow’s end, when a 6Ib chub was the
absolutely impossible dream of many, and this was looking
very close to that…..
The scales proved my guesses to be right, the fish coming
in at 6Ib 4oz, clearing my old PB by 11oz. I was pretty
gobsmacked, and snapped off a couple of self takes, before
slipping the fish carefully back. It swam off powerfully,
and I spent much of the rest of the night flicking through
the digi to check that I really had caught them……. OK, so
the captures were a bit of a fluke for a first timer on the
river, but they’re still in the album. Like so many others,
it looks like I owe Stoney a pint!
Kevin Winter
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