Martin Bowler’s Adventures Our big-fish ace heads to the stunning River Itchen in search of specimen pike
I discover why pike are now seen as friends and not foes
EVERY keen angler can recall the moment when the fishing seed was sown that grew into a lifelong obsession.
For me it was a gudgeon that dragged under my ill-shotted float, while for Itchen river keeper Rob Rees it was a jack pike he caught from Lough Derg during a holiday in Ireland.
That first encounter with a modest-sized pike not only made it his favourite species, but in all probability put him on the path to becoming a river keeper. On graduating from Sparsholt College, the Itchen became Rob’s home. England can lay claim to 85 per cent of the world’s chalk streams,
and the River Itchen is a classic example. Pure water bubbles up from aquifers in Hampshire and meanders through meadowland towards Winchester – a relatively short journey of less than 30 miles, but the river plants an incredibly rich and diverse footprint above and below the surface.
Its SSSI status is well deserved, and guardians such as Rob work hard to keep it a very special natural feature.
My first glimpse of the water meadow and the stretch of the Itchen keepered by Rob was on a dull winter’s morning when dark clouds filled the sky. Despite the gloom the river still sparkled, sweeping under bridges and over pristine gravel beds.
This was my first meeting with Rob but, as is the way with anglers sharing the same passion, conversation immediately flowed as though between old friends.
I listened to tales of wonderful trout sport on the mayfly as salmon cut their spawning redds right outside the fishing hut where we chatted. Today, though, game fish were not our target.
On the wall of the hut hung an impressive cased pike, and as its glassy eye caught mine and I remarked on this fine piece of taxidermy Rob’s face lit up – an unusual reaction from a river keeper to such an apex predator.
Not that long ago, mention of the word ‘pike’ would have prompted a grimace and a muttered ‘bloody pests!’ from an earlier generation of keepers.
I prefer to see a balanced aquatic environment dominated neither by game nor coarse fish, and I suspect Rob has a similar attitude. “Pike aren’t a scourge,” he said. “They’ve been keeping the river
longer than any of us.” This seemed the perfect time to ask about tactics for the day. We would be highly mobile, exploring lairs Rob was familiar with. Large flies and lures would be an option, but the main tactic would be grayling deadbaits, fished sink and draw-style. I had never used these for bait, but with a thriving population in the Itchen I had no issue with helping Rob catch a few hand-sized examples and despatching them, fresh and ready to wobble. As always on a new venue I took time to study Rob’s equipment and terminal tackle, a shortcut on the A mounted learning curve. He grayling was using a 10ft carp deadbait. stalking rod and a strong fixed-spool reel loaded with 40lb braid. To this was tied a 20ft fluorocarbon leader, almost invisible in the crystal-clear water. The final element was a trace of 28lb wire. Interestingly, instead of a treble going into the grayling’s lip it was a size 4 E-S-P Cryogen Stiff Rigger single – a size 8 treble would then be nicked into the bait’s flank. This is a lovely, simple way to fish with little preparation, and with our net straps slipped over our shoulders we headed into the water meadows in search of esox.
Our first port of call was a bridge spanning the Itchen, its stanchions diverting the flow to give added depth and a spot for debris to collect. Rob was familiar with where the pike liked to lie and was pointing out a mottled green back well before my eyes had adjusted. Without polarised glasses most anglers would have mistaken it for a log – until, that is, it sensed their heavy footfall and bolted, leaving behind a puff of silt.
Our approach was far stealthier, and soon a grayling deadbait was cast within striking range of those formidable jaws. The pike responded, following Rob’s offering but holding off from an attack. Either it was not hungry or it had sussed us out, and retreated into some submerged roots out of our reach. No matter, it had been an exciting start and there were plenty more areas to investigate.
Today angling felt like a true field sport – country, company and the thrill of the hunt. We continued to search out known lairs until eventually a nice double clamped down on Rob’s grayling and led him a merry dance. The hooks held and a beautifully marked Itchen pike was ours to admire.
Back it went, and we headed upstream to a deep hole where I was assured pike would be found.
I cast my deadbait to the head of the pool and actually witnessed the white flash of the pike’s jaws before the braid pulled taut and the drag went into overdrive.
This was a spirited fish but I was convinced it was of moderate size – that is, until it was under the rod-tip, when I could see the depth of its body. Obviously a diet of trout and grayling was to its liking.
A mid-double was the perfect way to open my Itchen account and remind me how special our rivers can be. Little wonder Rob
has fallen in love with his own slice of heaven and the fish that, like him, call it home. He has a lot to thank that first pike for! A good pike for river keeper Rob.