THE JOY OF FISHING
WITH MARTIN BOWLER
banks that stretch as far as the eye can see – inhospitable for us, and definitely not places to venture on to, but fish see the world a little differently to us. Time away from the sea leaves the banks rich and fertile, so when water floods in there’s a rush to search for fresh food.
Darkness came early, and still we had nowhere to cast! The first indication of a change came with a growing rush of water across the estuary. Once the flood had started, the surge was rapid and unstoppable. One minute the coves and peninsulas were dry, the next the Channel was lapping against the bank at my feet.
There was no time to waste, and under instruction I cast 50yds into no more than 1ft of water. I placed the rod on a tripod and almost immediately hooked a cod. A fluke, obviously, but then I looked down the bank and saw both of my friends playing fish. Cod had been as swift as the tide to exploit a fresh food source, a lesson to remember on dynamic venues everywhere.
A couple of days later I was surveying another flooded place, but despite its height, the river seemed tame compared to the liquid mud of the previous trip. Sea and freshwater fish aren’t that dissimilar when it comes to food, though, and the flooded water meadows were impossible to ignore.
An abundance of drowned worms and insects meant the chub would be keen to venture out of the river and explore fresh territory. Sure enough, wayward dorsal fins cut through reed beds and into open water, their presence given away by the occasional boil on the surface.
Donning waders, I crept across the meadows. I had brought a 1.25lb tc Avon rod teamed with 6lb Method Feeder mono. I suspected I’d need every ounce of its breaking strain.
A short paternoster link held between float stops carried just a couple of shot, and a size 8 hook with a lump of Sticky Krill paste smeared around it completed the set-up. Why not mimic nature and use a worm? The trouble was, it would bury itself in the mud and grass to avoid the chub, snagging me up.
I took refuge against some reeds with the water around my knees, waiting for a chance. The chub would have to come to me, as they wouldn’t tolerate any disturbance. It took a while, but eventually I spotted a fish, guessed where its head was and made a cast. Instantly a bow of line zipped across the water and I struck.
In bonefish fashion a 5lb chub tore across the shallows and I ran after it, gathering line. I had ruined any further chances but I didn’t really care – this was
“Why not be like the fish, wait for a flood, and reap your rewards?”
fun, and once again I had used a flood to catch a fish.
More rain over the following days meant another fishing trip, this time to the Hants Avon. Despite the burgeoning flood, the water hadn’t taken on much colour. That would enable safe wading, but my next target, barbel, would have a clear view of proceedings. I stuck to a summer-style set-up with 15lb fluoro mainline and the weight trapped between float stops. A 4ft fluoro hooklength carried a size 11 Super Specialist barbel hook and a short braided hair holding half a boilie. This would be pushed over by the flow and cover the hook.
I’ve never found barbel willing to leave the riverbed for the flooded banks, but that doesn’t mean they don’t enjoy all that extra water – they adore it! So I waded to the river’s edge and lowered the rig into place.
I knew a bite would come in the mild temperatures. In fact, it was two, and each time those barbel fought like tigers, to the point where at times I couldn’t budge them off the bottom.
Wonderful sport, so why not be like the fish, wait for a flood, and reap your rewards?