Jessica's First Gudgeon

I realised recently that I’d not yet taken Jessica fishing this summer, and that summer was almost finished. It was WIGG today, the annual Wallington Invitational Gudgeon Gala, an event I’d fished for the past few years, but today I was on daddy duty so couldn’t commit. A cunning plan however, meant that I could perhaps leave James with my parents for an hour whilst I nipped out with Jessica, met up with the guys and saw about perhaps trying to get Jess her first gudgeon.

We got ready, loaded the car, packed a picnic and headed off to the viewpoint to meet the chaps at 9am. It was good to see them, a great bunch of lads, who meet far too infrequently. After a good chat and lots of banter Jess and I headed off to Cheeseman’s Bridge. I knew her concentration levels wouldn’t be quite honed yet and that half an hour or perhaps a little more would be about enough for her.

We clambered down into position and with everything in place she began fishing, with two maggots, one red and one white, suspended under a delicate handmade float. I watched her face rather than the float tip. I could soon tell when the float dipped, her look changing from that of total concentration to one of excitement, she even let out a little squeal. I told her to lift the rod, she did so but it wasn’t a proper strike, not really, but it wasn’t a bad effort. The line entering the water changed direction and started going upstream, so it had obviously had the desired effect.

As with the practice goes, she wound backwards at first giving line instead of retrieving, but soon changed when I pointed this out to her. Soon enough she had a lovely little fish winging its way ashore. I peered into the water, we both did, and I was the one squealing when I spotted it was a gudgeon, first cast.

We were both as pleased as one another, although I think Jess pipped me slightly. I asked her to hold out her hands whilst I lay the fish, and quite a decent specimen, safely in her grasp. I made sure she waded out slightly so that there was a watery landing should she drop it. But I needn’t have worried, she was gentle and curious, elated and enchanted, it was a fabulous moment.

Once I’d done the David Bailey bit she crouched down and gently released her prize, it was as if she knew exactly what to do. A sweety for each fish, that was the deal so as promised I produced a Jelly Baby from my pocket, then asked her which colour maggots she’d like to try next.” Got any pink or blue ones dad?” she asked. Only red and white ones were in the pot so again one of each went on and we had another cast.

We had a half a dozen more casts at the bridge, each one resulting in a bite, and another four gudgeon were brought to shore, all just as marvellous as the first. After the fifth Jelly Baby Jess told me she’d like to try somewhere else, so we hooked the hook in the keeper ring and headed out of the swim, through the gap in the trees and across the field. The grass was long and wet, Jess had her wellies on, but I didn’t.

With damp shoes and wet ankles I followed Jess till she found a spot she liked the look of. Under a tree the undergrowth was trampled somewhat making a nice level platform to fish from. The river trickled across gravel and deepened just before us. There was a tree opposite and a deep spot just before the root system. It looked great.

We made a few casts but it was all quiet to begin with. Then the float dipped a few times without really sailing away. I had a good idea what the culprit was, and this was confirmed when Jess reeled in her first minnow. She loved it and thought straight away it was a baby fish. I told her it was a fully grown adult as it was quite big for a minnow, but she was having none of it. After a few photos we watched the fish swim back to the deep spot and soon after I handed over another Jelly Baby.

We caught one more minnow from that spot before Jess decided that perhaps it was time to return home as her dollies would be due a feed. On the way back we had one more cast from the bridge before heading to the car which resulted in the last gudgeon of the day. All strapped up in the car Jess told me all the way home how much she’d enjoyed the day, and that next time she’d like to catch the same fish so she can ask how they’ve been since she last caught them.

As always it was amazing watching her fish. A chip off the old block? Maybe, maybe not, but time will tell, perhaps James will be the angler. All I know is that those short trips we share are magical memories in the making. 

A Special Christening

This past weekend saw a gathering of piscators, anglers who's intention was to meet up with friends and exchange pleasantries just before Christmas. This section of the Itchen has become a firm favourite for many of the brethren, fishermen who believe that it is far more important to enjoy the day, as it is to catch some fish. The weather started started out fairly lousy, in fact, I was all ready to leave at the expected 7:30 but a toe dipped outside the front door had me rushing back in and towards the kettle. Jessica woke and wanted me to tell her all about Father Christmas one more time, so before I knew it the sky was looking far more friendly and it was after 8:30. 



This trip, for me, was mostly about my dear departed friend Richard, for it would be the first time I used the reel given to me by his partner which happened to be the reel he last used at this very venue when he caught his first ever grayling. That trip was to be his last fishing trip, after that I visited him twice in hospital before receiving that heartbreaking news a week later. I still miss him every day.

With his reel in tow I arrived at the river, said hello to Paul and Bumble and found a nice stretch of semi slow river to angle upon. A few trots through with single red maggot and the float dipped. It was never going to break any records, quite possible the smallest grayling I've caught, but it meant so much to me. A grayling on Rich's reel, and a baby one too, a symbol of new life. I couldn't have been happier. 



A few fish later, including some delightful trout type creatures, and it was time to head for the weir and to say hello to the others. Bernie was angling just before the weir and I found MGs just a tad past it. We chatted briefly and I settled down for another few trots down towards the weir itself which is where I found a few of the better fish the river has to offer. Most notably a fairly large trout and a very good grayling, both fish really tested the AD All-Rounder with the Roach tip fitted, knew I should have plumped for the Avon instead. 







At lunchtime we gathered at the weir bench (our usual congregational spot) and ate sandwiches, drunk from flasks and when MGs arrived tucked into his exquisite fruit cake. PafPuff arrived just as we were leaving, he'd been fishing much further upstream and had been enjoying himself immensely. We got chatting about fly fishing, something I'm very inexperienced with but am looking to get more involved with very soon, and he gave me a present to help me on my way, thanks Paul! Bern, PaulD and Myself had decided to leave shortly after lunch, I wanted to have a look at a couple of local rivers for perhaps an hour on the way home to see if I could catch a bristling perch. 

On the Itchen at Mansbridge I set up in the swim just downstream from the pub. I trotted for an hour but only had 1 minnow, a lovely minnow it was though. As I was on my way back to the car a chap stopped and asked if I'd caught anything, then he asked my name and told me he knew me. Turns out he was good friends with Richard and had seen photos of me and read some of my work. what a small world, and what were the chances of bumping into him on the day I first use his old reel?? 

On the Wallington the swim I wanted was free and I began catching from the off, a handful of roach were swung to hand before a wonderful river perch brightened an otherwise drab day. Not the biggest perch by any means, but it put a massive smile on my face and sent me home feeling totally fulfilled. 

WIGG 2014

The Wallington Invitational Gudgeon Gala was in its second year. 2013 saw a group of friends visit their local River Wallington on a cold November’s day, and although spirits were high and many laughs were had, there was only one gudgeon caught. The trophy sat with Jonny for the ensuing year, and he wasn’t about to hand it over this year without a fight.

We are very fortunate, in as much as we have some of the most wonderfully intimate stretches of river right on our doorstep, the fish might not be massive, but they are huge in their own rights as this year’s event proved. So with an earlier scheduled event now taking place in early September, we felt confident that it would be a case of the largest gudgeon deciding who’d be champion, rather than if somebody actually managed to snare one.

Dreaming....

Lakeside

On Sunday last I decided to stay local, so a visit to Lakeside was arranged and armed with 2 pints of fidgety maggots of red and white I headed to the point with the faint hope there was nobody already there. The sky was amazing, no less than three times I stopped before reaching my final destination just to take photos. The sun was just beginning to climb above the large white buildings of IBM Headquarters and eventually I pulled up in a(thankfully) very empty car park.

Winter Silver...

It was quite clear early on that Chris Yates and Bob James had nothing on Peppa Pig. Jessica was staring at the big box of toys in the corner and Corrinna spotted me peering out of the window watching the sky clear and the sun begin to break through. She offered to look after Jess and told me I’d better get out before the showers come back. I didn’t need telling twice. 

On the way to the river I stopped at Manning’s for half a pint of maggots. The guy behind the counter asked where I was off to. I told him I was headed for the Wally, to which he said “Jeez, that will be tonking through with the rain we’ve had!” My heart sunk ever so slightly as I knew he was probably right, but I felt sure I could find somewhere fishable. 
I pulled up just before Cheeseman’s bridge and walked to the river before changing into my boots and grabbing the rod. It looked fast and up, but by no means unfishable. If anything, it might improve things, and those wary chub and dace could well be in the mood. I wasted no time fetching my things and getting into position. 

Just below my position was a tree with a deep channel very close to it. There were a few low spindly branches which were set to cause one or two hairy moments, but soon enough the rod was put together and I was angling. I opted to bring the old Wizard out of retirement and matched it with old Ron’s Young’s Seldex that was given to me by his son. 
At first, the crow quill Avon I was using was far too light and was being pulled all over the place. I upped it to a 3 AAA perch bobber which coped much better. I was so much trotting the swim, rather searching out the eddies that were swirling in front of me. 

The first fish I caught was a beautiful roach, sparkling in the low winter sunlight. It was a pristine fish without a scale out of place. A great start although the bites didn't come thick and fast, I had to work out where they were at which state, the swirls were coming from everywhere being just the other side of a bridge, one minute there was slack in front of me, the next a surge of water. 

The next fish to grace the bank was a sparkly dace, and quite the specimen too. I’d hoped they would put in an appearance. When only a couple of hours previous it seemed as though fishing was the last thing I’d be doing, to be out doing it and catching such marvellous fish was superb, the feeling of euphoria was amplified. 

The far bank was much slower than my own bank so a cast with the float shallowed up was made, but produced five minnows in as many casts. As pretty as they were five was enough and with the float raised a foot I continued to search out the deeps before me. 

A small roach was next up, each and every fish made a good account of themselves in the increased flow, and that included this little fellow too, very spirited indeed. Next cast produced a much better roach, with classic deep red fins and flanks of sterling silver. I held it in my hand, a thing of such perfection I was truly blessed. 

Although none of these fish were record breakers, they were still very special fish, to me anyway. The river is tiny and on my doorstep. There are rivers not a million miles away where there is no doubt that I could quite possibly catch fish five times the size of these, and one day I’ll make that journey, but for now I was quite happy doing what I was doing, angling on my terms. Another wonderful dace jagged away in the current and was scooped up in the crabtree net. 

The session was a short one, they all are at this time of year and with me arriving at 2pm I was only ever going to get a maximum of two hours fishing. As it happened I caught my last fish at 3:30, another cracking freshly minted dace was landed which signified the end of proceedings. With minimal tackle I was packed away and in the car in ten minutes. 

On the way home I stopped at Buckwell’s Butchers, bought two nice fillet steaks and treated Corrinna to a slap up tea for making the suggestion in the first place. She enjoyed her meal so much she said I could go tomorrow. Now, I might just take her up on that!

An Afternoon to Remember

This morning I thought it might be a good idea to have a couple of hours fishing after work. I finish at midday on Friday’s and with nothing else planned this afternoon I decided to grab minimal kit from the shed on the way to work, enough to see if I could tempt a winter river Wallington carp. My friend Robbie caught a nice one quite recently which gave me the idea and the inspiration. I did also think about gudgeon fishing back at Cheeseman’s bridge too, but the challenge of a carp won the day.

I left work a little after noon and headed for the stretch upstream of the motorway where Rob had his success. I tried the big pool with no takers and no sign of fish present. Then I fished a smaller pool upstream a couple of hundred yards and the weir pool but still, I had no bites. I took a wander above the weir pool and although the water was fairly low and very clear I could spot no fish. With the lack of sightings I opted for leaving that stretch and made for the urban stretch near Fareham.




I’d been there a couple of weeks previously and spotted some carp sitting among some snags, they were mostly commons but there were two dark mirrors with them. It was low tide then and I could see the fish quite clearly in and around the sunken branch. This afternoon I arrived at the wrong time completely, the tide was up, in fact, it was still rising when I got there and the water was coloured and deep. I stood by the wall and fixed my gaze on the far bank. I could see the ledge with around 18 inches of water over it and I on watched as two commons cruised along it. A patrol route was found as minutes later one more fish did the similar but the other way.

I was using a 10ft glass carp rod with a 300 and the set up was very basic with a small float, one AAA shot and a size 6 hook. I attached a piece of bread flake and cast onto the ledge. Three heart stopping moments occurred when fish swam past the bait and ignored it, but finally one stooped down, picked up the hook-bait and as the float slid away I set the hook and prepared for battle. It was a fish of around 5lbs, long and dark, quite wildie looking too. For its size it scrapped well but soon found itself in the bottom of my net. It was a true warrior and after a quick self take I released it back to the river.




After the capture I angled in much the same way, but no more bits came from the ledge. I watched the world go by for the best part of an hour and was quite pleased when finally the water over the ledge appeared to be getting shallower. Fish now began to cruise mid channel, and as two commons came past I let my flake flutter down which enticed the largest one to suck in the bread and continue on its way. As I struck I could tell this one was a bigger fish, the rod arched and the spool sang as another long, lean common carp headed off for the sanctuary of the snags. I avoided danger and steered my prize clear and into the net at the first time of asking. Yet another wonderful dark and prehistoric looking fish blessed my mat, it was already a great afternoon.




At half three I started to clock watch, I needed to get home and the snag spot was still a long way from becoming exposed. This meant I couldn’t see the bulk of the fish and therefore couldn’t ‘Hand Pick’ the larger mirrors I wanted to catch which was my original plan. Back on the corner I watched a while longer as the channel got ever shallower. Then, much to my amazement, one of the mirrors appeared and hung around directly below me, it was as though he knew I was there for him and didn’t want to disappoint me. I dangled a flake over the edge and watched as it disappeared into the carp’s mouth.

This fish had a think wrist and a fairly large paddle, and I knew all about it. For ten whole minutes I tried to get the upper hand, an immensely powerful fish for its size. It was quite a moment when it slipped into the mesh. I hoisted it ashore and admired its wonderful features, its shape and colours. A quick self take and I gently lowered the incredible fish back down to the water and watched as it swam slowly out of my net.




Soon after I broke the rod and net down and set off for home one very happy angler...

A Day out with Percy Veerance.

It was Sunday 1st December; a few of the members of TFF were meeting up at the Mansbridge stretch of the Itchen near Southampton. I pulled into the White Swan car park at around 8:30 and met the others who were already tackling up for a day’s trotting in the hope of connecting with one of the river’s monster chub or roach. After the usual pleasantries were done the anglers moodled off to find some water to explore.

I fished just downstream of the pub with Martin H to my left and Chubman (Geoff) to my right. After a dozen or so trots through and no takers I was resigned to firing up the Kelly Kettle, just to warm things up a touch. Martin, Geoff and Dave gathered around and whilst I poured the tea out came the cakes and flapjacks. We nattered over tea and discovered that the river had been fishing well for the last hour of the day but that the rest of it was kind of slow.

After another dozen trots with bread flake I switched to a smaller hook and maggot, just to see if I could connect with one of the river’s mini species, but still my float refused to go under. Martin moved off upstream in search of action whilst Dave a couple of swims down managed two sea trout and a 2lb chub. News came of Bumble’s chub also and Martin hooked and after a long battle on light gear scooped up what was either a salmon or a sea trout of around 7lbs. It was an impressive specimen.

Once more I lit the Kelly Kettle and even more cake found itself being sliced and dished out, Bumbles was particularly good. After tea it was almost lunchtime and after speaking with my pal Johnny who was fishing further upstream and was enjoying as much success as me, we decided to leave the river and go in search of some fish somewhere closer to home. We had two ideas; mine was the first pool at Carron Row, full of small fish including roach, rudd and perch with the chance of tench and carp it seemed an obvious choice on such an unproductive day. The second was the river Wallington at Cheeseman’s Bridge. As it was on the way back we opted for Carron Row and said farewell to the others as we left for the motorway.

At Carron Row we found, much to our surprise, a lack of other anglers and took no time settling into the platform swims just along from the dam. With the depths plumbed and a sprinkling of maggots scattered around the margin we began fishing happy that it was quiet and that we had the prospect of a smashing afternoon’s angling ahead of us. After half an hour spent trying the margins and further out we looked at each other and realised that the fish were just as hungry as the ones on the Itchen.

We fished on a little longer and after a quick visit to Steve who was fishing the second pool I called my parents who told me they were just dishing up their Sunday roast and that there was one for me if I wanted it. I got back to John and told him of my predicament and that I was in two minds whether to stay or to head off home and call it a day. It was a lovely winter’s day and spending it waterside was wonderful, but after a dead slow morning I was longing to catch a fish, just one fish would have done.

Finally at just before 2pm I asked John if he fancied fishing the last two hours of the day at Cheeseman’s Bridge. A very brief discussion broke out after which we loaded the cars once more and headed for the Wally. It wasn’t much of a journey and we were pulling up just past the bridge within 10 minutes. We unloaded the car, walked to the bridge and peered over the edge. John told me that the water was well down from the last time he was there but that we should still find a fish or two to angle for.

At first I wasn’t convinced…


The swim looked tight, only enough room for one, so we decided to both fish there but take turns casting. Once in position we realised that if we stuck to our sides we could more than easily fish it together and soon enough we were swinging our floats as close to the far bank as we could avoiding the low lying branches that were reaching out over the river opposite us. It was quite a moment after the day we’d had and almost going home when the float dipped for the first time. The fish was only small, but it was still a monster.

I know, that doesn’t make any sense at all, but what I swung to hand was the largest minnow I’ve ever seen. It was bigger than my finger, a veritable giant. John, at first, couldn’t see what all the fuss was about, but he soon realised by the silly smile stretched across my face that I was ecstatic; not only at catching a fish, but at the fact it was such a great specimen. I took a few photos of the superb little fish along with john taking a nice snap of me from up on the bridge.

From this shot you can see the minnow is longer than my hand is wide…


From this shot you can see the silly grin I had…


Once the fish was returned we got back to fishing. Minnows came thick and fast, not as large as the first one, but lovely fish nonetheless. Then happened upon a roach, only a very small one, but it seemed the better fish were further over close to the far bank. More minnows were forthcoming with both John and I trying to get ever closer to that far bank without getting caught in the branches. I was using one of my favourite little George Lockhart quills so didn’t much fancy losing it, but still I tempted fate with every cast.

The next species on the list was a dace. Again, it wasn’t going to break any records, but it was something to get excited over when the day had started so slowly. It was reminiscent to a little highly polished jig and brightened up the afternoon nicely. With tiny scales shimmering I held it in the water a while and loosened my grip as I wanted to swim off.

A sparkly dace…



It was John’s turn to get amongst a few fish, roach and dace came his way along with more minnows, and then unfortunately he lost what we first thought could have been a perch. It was perch we were hoping to catch at Carron Row so to catch one here from this tiny pool would have been the icing on the cake. The next time my float dipped I hooked something that fought all together differently, obviously a better fish and as I drew it towards me I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was a huge gudgeon!




After jumping around a bit I measured the fish at 7 inches and weighed it at just under 2oz, so that made two PBs in one afternoon, talk about red Letter Day!! It was such a marvellous fish with its pearlescent scales tinged with silvers, blues and browns and little black spots dotted randomly. It was wider than any gudgeon I’d caught before and was yet another highlight to an already splendid afternoon.







Quite soon after commencing the angling to branches opposite claimed their prize in the shape of my lovely crow quill float. The three times previously I’d managed to pull it out successfully, but this time the line broke and all I could do was watch my pride and joy swinging in the breeze. I climbed up onto the bridge and had a look from various angles, but it looked to be a lost cause. I returned to the swim and set up my tackle again using the cheapest plastic float I could find in my box.

We were having so much fun we totally forgot that it was afternoon in winter and realised suddenly when it got difficult to see floats and attach maggots to our hooks, but that’s when things really started to come alive. The minnows stopped feeding and the roach and gudgeon started to become more frequent. I hooked what I though was a good roach but when I swung it in a gorgeous bar of silver nestled gently into my wet hand and shimmered beautifully.




John had a brainwave; to see if I could make it behind the tree opposite, grab the branch that had my float and see if I could retrieve it that way. Off I went across the bridge and down the other bank and returned minutes later with a massive smile and my float back. John thought it odd that in the fading light I decided to re-tackle up with the float I’d just got back, but it felt the right thing to do, the plastic one just wasn’t doing it for me. I think I was rewarded too as the next trot produced a glorious roach, the largest I caught that afternoon and one I’d be happy with from anywhere, especially such a small stream pool.



John packed in for the day, it was too dark to see and he’d had more than his fair share of the spoils. I, however, was fishing with slightly more float tip exposed and could still see what was going on. I though the float dipped, I was sure of it and when I could see it no longer I struck and felt delightful resistance. We both strained our eyes hoping for a glance of something with stripes and neither of us could believe it when an extraordinary little perch came splashing its way towards us.




It didn’t end there either, I managed to squeeze one last cast out of the dying light and was very pleased to find myself swinging in yet another spiny little wonder. We ended proceedings on a high, both agreeing that what we’d just had was quite possibly the best fishing either of us had had for a long while, and certainly the most fun. We caught minnows, roach, dace, trout, perch and gudgeon, when we very nearly called it a day before the fun even started. Just shows that a little perseverance can turn things on their head quite easily.