Bob Roberts

My monthly fishing diary...

IT’S that tricky time of year again. Fluctuating temperatures and heavy rain can conspire to make things difficult but, providing you are prepared to adapt to the prevailing conditions and choose your venue carefully, there are still plenty of fish to be caught.

Week one...

It’s not often I am caught out by an unexpectedly rising river but that’s exactly what happened when I met up with Archie Braddock on the Trent just upstream of Nottingham for a spot of perch fishing.

Normally I religiously check the levels supplied by the Environment Agency but the river had been on its bones for so long there seemed little point. Even when it did rain for the first time in an age I presumed the parched earth would soak up every drop. I was wrong. It must have run straight into the river.

The Trent was up a foot and still rising, though crystal clear. Not exactly disastrous conditions, except there was a fair bit of weed coming down that fouled our lines but we were happy to contend with that if I could just catch us a few livebaits. Boy, were they playing hard to get.

Archie may go under the radar these days but don’t be fooled. He is arguably the most successful perch catcher the Trent has ever seen. If I was to tell you just how many hundreds of 2lb- plus perch he’s caught you probably would not believe me.

He’s had something like 130 over 3lb and several over four. That’s some record!

In winter he’s a big fan of worms but throughout summer and autumn livebaits are his favourite approach. Perch are capable of taking surprisingly big baits but in practical terms a fish of between 1oz and 2oz is ideal. Unfortunately, I was struggling for bites on stick- floated maggots. Archie, on the other hand, chucked out a maggot feeder and it was Sod’s Law that most of the fish he caught were too big to use.

Eventually I managed to snaffle just enough baits on the stick and by liphooking them they come to little or no harm, unless of course they are eaten and, sure enough, some were. We caught a few nice perch if nothing of any real size, but when you are fishing like this the next bite could easily be from a monster.

You genuinely have no idea what’s going to be on the end of your line when the tip bangs over. It could be a half- pound perch or a five- pounder; a zander or a pike. These days it could even be a catfish or sturgeon, or perhaps a huge predatory chub.

We spent the day as we have done many times, sat side- by- side, sharing a swim and talking fishing. He has a new book out any time now called The First 70 Years, chronicling Archie’s theories and experiences with various species spanning his boyhood to the present day. It will be an eye- opener for many. Take it from me, he’s an absolute one- off.

Week two...

More rain followed and the Trent continued to rise so plans for a return perch trip went on the back burner.

This was barbel time and I set about preparing some baits. No need for feeders when the river’s in flood, or feed for that matter. That will only get swept away. I keep things simple – large smelly hookbaits are my go- to tactic. Find anywhere offering slightly slacker pace, not in a slack, but where the pace is similar to what it would be at normal levels and you always feel you’re in with a shout.

A couple tins of Spam, diced, placed in a polythene bag with 5ml of a spicy flavour, a good sprinkle of smoky paprika and mild curry powder, give the lot a good shake and leave to absorb overnight.

The bait is cast out and left as long as possible, which is largely dependant on the amount of rubbish that fouls your line.

I dropped straight into what looked like a banker swim but after three hours I’d not had a sniff. A change of venue saw me in another likely spot and, once again, it was hard going.

Then the rod tip tapped gently, twice. Chub, I thought, or bream. Hey ho, if it goes again I’ll try and hit it. Another gentle pluck saw me lift into the fish. I knew it wouldn’t be a barbel – they give you a 3ft twitch – at the butt – don’t they?

Well not always. This was no bream. It definitely felt like a barbel, or possibly a carp. It’s hard to tell because they don’t half pull in the extra flow, so I took my time. She certainly didn’t want to come up off the bottom, even when under the rod tip. I was so pleased I’d chosen to step up to the 2.75lb test Infinity Evo anticipating the need for a bit more backbone but pressure eventually paid and I slipped my net under what looked a fair sized lump, and indeed it was when I pulled back the folds of the net.

After a rest, for me as much as the fish, I did a few quick self- takes and slipped her back. There was no doubting whether she was ready or not as the lashing of her tail splashed my glasses. And then she was gone.

I stayed a while longer, tried another swim, but it wasn’t a day for making multiple captures, it was a day for scratching out a fish if you were lucky. They weren’t interested. Had I waited for a proper pull round I’d probably still be sat there!

Week three...

I’m sure many of you will be aware I was dealt an unfortunate hand when I was born and that my kidneys are failing. The solution is a transplant and things looked great when a handful of folk came forward offering to be live donors but each had minor complications that would never affect them, but enough to be ruled out as donors.

It has left me on the deceased transplant list and I will need dialysis soon. This week I went for surgery to create a fistula in my forearm. It’s a relatively minor procedure, done as a day patient, and all went well as far as I can tell at this stage.

Unfortunately, I was told not to drive for at least a week, and to keep the wound clean and dry so I was pretty much confined to barracks. Saying that, the rivers were still in high flood and it would pretty much have been a case of barbel or bust. They could wait.

Eventually I managed to escape for a few hours and gambled that the local River Don would return to fishable conditions quicker than anywhere else. I was right. The ‘ tide’ line showed it had been up 5ft only days earlier but now, at 9in above normal level and carrying a tinge of colour, I fully expected to fill my boots, feeder fishing worm and casters.

Everything looked perfect, but a few perch and small chub were meagre reward for all the slipping and sliding I did on now treacherous riverbanks.

Oh well, at least

I managed to wet a line.

Week four...

Swanlands at Thorne has changed hands. The two lakes were originally dug by the new owner’s father, then sold, and now Nigel has returned to resurrect the family ownership. Unlike most commercials it has completely split pleasure fishing from match days. Matches on weekends, Tuesdays and Thursdays, pleasure anglers welcome in between. Common sense when you think about it, but check in advance over the winter as there are fewer matches and bonus days become available.

The place is infested with carp, as you might imagine, but as temperatures dip they take a back seat and, like many

commercial fisheries, you have a chance to deliberately target some quality perch. I joined Brian Skoyles and Dave Butt for a ‘ stripey’ day, the three of us sat in a row offering prawns and worms under floats.

Unfortunately, it’s been a mild autumn so far with no sign of a proper frost and I’m guessing the perch are still feasting on small fish. They showed no interest in our juicy treats while the carp were clearly still active. I tried a couple of swims in vain but only tempted carp. Good sized fish, mind, that don’t half pull your string on light waggler tackle, but no signs of perch.

In my second swim I could see the guy opposite catching a carp almost every putin on the pole while I struggled for bites. On packing up he walked round and said: “Here, try these.” And gave me a some cockles and mussels.

So I did, and my barren swim instantly sprang into life with a bite then coming almost every cast. “I catch big perch on them as well,” he said.

Catching a perch using mussels would be a first for me. It set me to thinking about how often we convince ourselves we’re in the wrong swim, or that the fish aren’t feeding. Sometimes, especially right now, all it takes is a change of bait to turn a difficult day into a successful one.