NEVER TOO HOT TO TROT FOR CHUB
A summer trip to the Warwickshire Avon spells success on float tactics
ARIBBON of pink light along the horizon signalled sunrise in the Malverns. Cattle were grazing in a field that seemed to steam as the dew evaporated on what already promised to be a scorcher of a day.
Only a few hours’ fishing would be on the cards before the heat became unbearable, which is why I was up early to meet my pal Paul Oughton on the banks of the Warwickshire Avon.
This was to be a social trip, but that didn’t mean we were happy
to blank. Now was the best time to tempt a bite from the chub that lived beneath a row of trees overhanging the far bank.
It’s sometimes nice to share a swim and take turns catching fish while having a natter, but first we needed to hatch a plan.
With a gallon of red and white maggots at our disposal I guess we already knew what bait would win us a bite in such high temperatures. By feeding little and often we were banking on stirring a shoal of sunbathing chub from their lethargy.
Floatfishing was clearly the way to go, but we had yet another choice to make. On my local fast-flowing venues a float fixed top and bottom, like an Avon or Loafer, is perfect. But the rather more sedate Warwickshire Avon is better suited to a waggler approach. This offers better presentation, and you can cast closer to the far bank because the hook follows the float. What’s more, when
it lands, there’s relatively little disturbance from the splash.
Paul agreed with me on this, so I set up a 14ft rod and teamed it with a fixed-spool reel loaded with 4.4lb mainline. A 3g Drennan pellet waggler provided plenty of buoyancy and its tinted crystal body wouldn’t spook the fish – perfect for this shallow, clear water.
Bulk shot locked the float in place with just a 2ft drop to the hook, and I squeezed on three No10 droppers shirt buttonstyle so the hookbait would fall slowly and naturally. A balance needs to be struck between tackle strength and the natural suspicion of big chub, so I went for a 4lb hooklength to a size 18 Super Spade hook.
To fish effectively we needed to don chest waders and get clear of a marginal reedbed. On such a warm day this was more of a pleasure than a chore.
I pushed two long rod rests into the river bed to support the rod, and another to take a bait waiter holding spare hooks, disgorger, shot and two catapults.
The maggots would be in a big bucket to keep them from sweating up, and the container would double up as a way of blocking the escape of any chub over the top of the keepnet. It wouldn’t be the first time that I’ve had fish leap to freedom before I could take their picture!
With everything in place the real work began – feeding maggots for 30 minutes.
An immediate cast can win a quick bite but it will often damage your swim beyond repair, because the rest of the shoal will spook. Gain their confidence and it doesn’t matter how many you hook… the rest will keep feeding!
So, taking turns, Paul and I kept a continuous stream of bait going downstream and watched as black shapes gradually moved up to the head of the swim, in the end taking maggots with gusto right in front of us.
Such was the feeding frenzy, fins and bronzed flanks broke the surface as the chub competed for a meal.
Feeding and then casting wouldn’t work, because that way the hookbait would be well away from the free offerings and the chub would easily spot that something was wrong.
A better approach was to cast slightly upstream, then place the rod on the rests for the first part of the trot. Next I’d fire out a pouchful of maggots and only then pick up the rod, mend the line and draw the waggler
“Bronzed flanks broke the surface as the chub competed for a meal”
into the free bait. The hookbait would fall through the melee and a fish would be far more likely to slip up.
Another element to building up a big bag of chub is to target only the feeding zone. A long trot might get you the odd bite farther downstream but it’ll cost you far more fish over a session because you’ll spend less time where the bites are coming thick and fast.
Paul went first, and the upward sweep of an immediate strike told me we were on the right track. Then it was my turn. It took me two trots to get a fish, as I missed the first bite, but with half-a-dozen pairs of white lips gulping away just beneath the surface I knew we were in for a great morning.
The steep bank and trees behind us offered us welcome shade and that, plus the fact we were waist-deep in water, meant we barely noticed the burning heat of this summer’s day. The chub, however, seemed to relish the sun, and with each one netted I became ever more convinced that we’d made the correct choice.
It’s good to relax on a summer’s day and we certainly did that, chatting about fishing (well, what else?) while enjoying the great sport on offer along the Avon. You won’t find me moaning about the heat because I know full well I’ll be dreaming of days like these come winter.
Enjoy them while you can!