Showing posts with label chub. Show all posts
Showing posts with label chub. Show all posts

Thursday, 1 July 2010

From the Archives - Summer Chubbing on a Small River

Eric Barnes has always been famous for lobs.  When he played professional football for Cheshire’s Crewe Alexander FC for 12 years as centre-half  he lobbed plenty of balls in - and out - of penalty areas. That was many moons ago. But now he’s well known for another kind of lob - lobworms, his favourite bait for many species, but especially for summer chub.

I’ve known and fished with Eric for more than 20 years, and there is no doubt that he’s something of an expert when it comes to fishing with lobworm.  So I thought it would be interesting if we had a day’s summer chubbing together, he using his favourite lob, and me one of favourite baits for chub in the summer months: slug - those big black or brown snot-balls which are a favourite dish of chub everywhere.

Our own local river Dane was the chosen venue, a small river that meanders through the Cheshire countryside with so many twists and turns. It really is a river full of character, with all the features you could wish for, including fast shallows, deep glides, undercut banks, rubbish rafts, and with banks dripping with willows and other vegetation that all go towards making fishing magical, and not just a pastime where catching fish is all that matters.

When I go summer chubbing I want it to be summer chubbing, with the sun blazing down from a clear blue sky on a water that is running low and clear.  That may sound daft, for they are not the best of conditions for fishing; not normally anyhow, but when you’re throwing slugs and lobs to chub in water that has been warmed by a summer sun it seems as though they the best conditions.  I know I enjoy the fishing when it’s like that, and while the chub are not often keen to chase after bread and luncheon meat beneath a bright sky, in tap-clear water, they rarely refuse slugs and lobs.

So Eric and I were not disappointed when we met at the river not long after first light, with the sun already hauling itself over the horizon into a sky that hadn’t a cloud to call its own.  Though to see me walking over the first meadow with my head hanging down you would have thought I carried all the troubles of the world on my shoulders.  Not so, I’d had a hard time finding slugs the day before, and I was looking for more in the dew-damp grass as I walked to the river.  In fact, the ones I had found were on the small side, and although I was confident I would catch on them, I much preferred the real big ones that go three inches in length and as fat as your thumb.  I found one or two slugs as I crossed the field, but still no real big ones.  Then Eric gave a gleeful cry and stooped to pick up a shiny black object, which he hastily dropped like a hot brick and wiped his hand down the side of his waterproof overtrousers.  That’ll teach him not to wear his glasses, I thought, sheep turds look just like big black slugs!

We decided that I would walk the length of the mile-long stretch and begin fishing at the far end, while Eric would start at the beginning.  When our paths crossed somewhere in the middle section we would compare notes.  I left Eric and made my way across the fields, torn between looking at the river for fish and watching the ground for slugs.  Believe me, I was sorely tempted more than once to drop in a swim before I got to the end of the stretch, so inviting did some of the swims look.  But I resisted the temptation - just!  The walk, though, was most enjoyable, for this is part of the pleasure of summer chubbing, you carry the minimum amount of tackle so that you are comfortably mobile.

At the limit of this length of the Dane is a wood, where a sharp bend forms a pool on the near bank.  In winter the pool, which is about 6ft deep, fishes well.  Now, in the warmer months, I knew that the sand bar, that sloped up from the pool to the far bank, would be favourite, for the chub love to get the sun on their backs - providing there are no menacing silhouettes or footfalls on the bank to drive them back into the deeper, darker water.  I put the rod together out of sight of the swim and slipped under the barbed-wire fence (I preferred to go under rather than over, being short in the leg and not wanting to sing falsetto all the way home) and sat behind a big clump of nettles. With clip-on polarising glasses attached I stared at the sandy bottom, willing my eyes to adjust. Yes, two grey shadows slid out of the dark water, half way across the sand bar, and hovered in the current, quickly followed by two more, smaller fish. The first two looked about 2lb to 3lb apiece, which is average for this part of the Dane.

Using forceps, I clamped hold of a slug and slipped the hook through its tail, a black juice oozing out of the penetration points.  Not very pleasant, but undoubtedly a lot to do with the attraction slugs have for chub.  With three SSG shot pinched directly on the line about a foot from the hook, I cast upstream, three yards higher than the chub, with the intention of watching the slug trundle down to where the chub hovered.  It didn’t.  So I reeled in, dug a thumb-nail into the split and removed one SSG, casting to the same spot again.  This time the slug did what I wanted it to, and hopped slowly over the sand, right into the big gob of one of the smaller chub. Whack!  The quiver-tip bent round, followed by the top section of the rod, before I could react and halt the fish in its tracks. If I hadn’t seen the fish, and not landed it, I would have sworn it was a lot bigger than it was. But that’s slug fishing for chub. When they want it, they have it, and they don’t mess around, giving some of the most violent bites you'll ever witness.


I slipped the fish back and made off for the next swim. It wasn’t the kind of swim you could disturb and expect the chub to feed again for another half hour or so.

At the next swim was a big old crack willow that leaned and threatened to fall into the river, but which was handy for me to use as cover as I  looked for chub in this narrow section. The far bank was undercut, only about 4ft deep, but dark and reassuring under the thick bushes that overhung the water.  The bottom shelved to my own bank, over sand and gravel.  A slug was hung onto the 6’s hook by its tail and cast deep into the undercut, the two SSG not heavy enough to grip bottom, which was exactly what I wanted.  A second cast, then a third, the slug tripping out of the dark water and over the sand, and not a chub in sight. The fourth cast, a little further downstream, where a raft of twigs had gathered, produced two small plucks on the quivertip, but the slug remained intact.

Another cast produced the same result.  Very small chub, or dace, I thought, and cast again. This time I held the line with the rod pointing at the bait, feeling for the bite. Sure enough, I felt the line tighten slightly, so I fed it some slack, and the next thing I knew the line had been snatched from my fingers and the rod was bucking as a chub of 3lb or so struggled to stay in the water. It failed and slid over the net looking sorry for itself, not even a free meal for its trouble, for the slug had been spit up the line. (Although chub bites on slugs are usually very aggressive, it doesn't mean you can take that fact for granted!).

I fished a few more swims, including two that were no more than a foot deep, flowing quite rapidly over bright green streamer weed, where the chub chased the slug as it rolled across the bottom and beneath the weed. I caught 14 chub in all, but didn’t get one bigger than about 3 1/2lb.

I found Eric another 100yds upstream, casting a lobworm to a swim behind a branch that stuck out of the water.

"I’ve had 13 chub, but nothing over 3lb. I don’t know where all the bigger ones are today.  It’s as though they’ve disappeared. I’ve had a lot of trouble with dace chewing the worms to mincemeat, and even caught a nice one of 1/2lb or so that managed to hang itself on a 6’s hook.

"I tried freelining, but all the swims that produced chub were too fast to fish without any weight. I’ve had most of my fish from runs between weedbeds, and had six chub from one swim that must have had a big shoal in the weed. If I hadn’t got snagged so often I would have had a lot more from that swim.

"Most of the bites were just little plucks on the quivertip, no more of a movement than the bites I was getting from the dace. That’s what’s made it hard really, for half the time I didn’t know whether to leave it, thinking it was dace, or to strike in case it was a chub.  I’ve enjoyed it though, it was nice just being here today. The fish were a bonus."


Eric broke his rod down and we headed for the cars.  As we passed a shallow, weedy swim we spotted a few chub gliding from one weedbed to the other.  My rod was still made up, and Eric said, "Lend me your rod a sec."  He took his bait box from his bag and impaled a large lob onto the 6’s hook, slid down to the edge of the river and cast the lob in the run between the weed.  Immediately, the rod bucked and he was into a fish, a chub that kicked up quite a fuss in the shallow water.  It weighed about...........2lb!

"That makes us even," Eric said, grinning, "Fourteen chub each."

"Oh no it doesn’t," I replied. "You used my rod, so that’s half each in my book, 14 ½ for me and 13 ½ for you!"

Graham’s Set-up
I used a home-made 11ft quivertip rod and a Mitchell Excellence 40 reel loaded with 6lb Maxima line to a 4.6lb Bayer Ultima hook length. Hook was a size 6 Mustad Limerick, No. 36876, which is matt black and goes nicely with a black slug in clear water. I used at least one SSG shot directly on the line, but added more if the swim demanded it. Fishing the shot directly on the line, when fishing in a current, is just as sensitive as a running link - if you use only just enough shot to present the bait exactly right.  Fishing two or more SSG direct on the line when float fishing is no different than using two SSG when legering, providing the whole set-up is well balanced.
I don’t like the freeline rig - which means there is nothing on the line except the hook and bait - unless I can actually see the fish taking the bait. The fish have too much free line to play with when there is no weight on the line, and can move the bait in some instances without registering a bite. A single SSG shot can make all the difference, for it gives the rig an anchoring, or fulcrum point, so that they have only the length of the hooklength to play with, rather than all that line from the hook to the bite indicator.
A main line of 6lb test is heavier than necessary for chub on the Dane, but I use 6lb for the simple reason that the Dane boasts one or two decent barbel. If I spot one of these when I’m chubbing it is a simple matter of removing the lighter hooklength and tying a hook direct to the 6lb line, giving me a good chance of landing a barbel.

Eric’s Set-up
Eric used one of the old type Shakespeare President quivertip rods, an ABU Cardinal 55 reel, 6lb Maxima reel line, 5lb Maxima hooklength, to a size 6 Mustad No. 34021 carp hook. He tried freelining without success, so used a 6in silicon running link, which had a link-swivel at one end to facilitate a quick change of bomb. Hooklength was attached via a swivel, which also acted as a leger stop, the knot protected by a bead.

Tackle Essentials
The beauty of summer chubbing is that you need carry no more tackle than the average fly angler. In fact, I use a fly fisherman’s shoulder bag (see pic above). In the bag is a small tackle box containing hooks of various sizes, a spare spool of 4lb line for the reel, a couple of spools of line for hooklengths, usually 3.6 and 4.6 test. A disgorger, forceps, box of SSG shot, and a selection of bombs in case the current is racing through and I need to go heavier. Another small box contains all those bits and pieces we use: beads, swivels, link-swivels, silicon tube, plastic leger stops, float adapters, small brass rings, etc, etc. The bag also holds a bait box of slugs, one with lobs, and a few slices of bread - just in case!  Though I find I rarely need the lobs, and specially not the bread.

Other than that the bag holds a flask and sandwiches; not compulsory, but it’s good to have a sit down with a brew and a butty and do nothing but look at the river. Finally, a tackled-up rod, landing net and rod rest completes the requirements. Other extras you could consider are a set of scales and weighbag, and in my case I sling a camera over my shoulder.

Where clothing is concerned, unless it is especially hot, I wear a waterproof bib and brace to keep my legs dry in the dew-laden grass of early morning, and so that I can sit anywhere on the banks without getting my bum wet, and not have to worry about carrying a waterproof sheet. The bib and brace is good because it leaves my arms free and it’s easy to slip on and off if the weather is changeable. A pair of leather boots are most comfortable for the feet, but Derry boots and the like are okay if it’s wet or muddy underfoot. A hat with a peak can be handy when the sun is bright, and a pair of polarising glasses make it a lot easier to spot fish.

Collecting, Storing and Hooking Slugs
If you’re going to be a regular ‘slugger’ the best way to ensure a steady supply is to place some sacking in a damp, dark area of your garden, or other suitable piece of ground.  Keep the sacking damp and let it rot.  Slugs will almost always be found underneath it.  Other than that, search any grassy areas following a shower of rain in the night.  I’m not particularly squeamish, so it doesn’t bother me to pick slugs up with my fingers, but they do leave your fingers a sticky mess, so use forceps, being careful not to squeeze the slugs too tightly.

I store my slugs in damp newspaper in a bait box, and find they last for several days.  Then, if I have any left, I let them go and collect fresh ones.

I always begin fishing by hooking slugs through the tail, about a ¼ inch from the end, but if I start to get violent takes, but not hooking anything, I then thread the hook through the tail, about a ¼ inch from the end again, pull through, and back in close to the head of the slug.  I very rarely find it’s necessary to use a hook smaller than a 6’s.

Collecting, Storing and Hooking Lobworms
The best way of collecting lobworms is to wait until a couple of hours or so after dark, and get out on a lawn. Use a torch with a dim beam (cover the glass with a tissue or two, held on with an elastic band) and look for lobs that will be lying on top of the grass, probably with their tail still down the hole. Grasp them firmly, close to the hole, and apply a steady pressure. Don’t be impatient and yank at them or they’ll snap in two.  After a second or two they’ll slide out as easy as you like. Drop them in a bait box filled with damp, shredded newspaper, or damp sphagnum moss, which is also the best medium for storing them for a few weeks.

Never put pieces of worm in the box, or worms with any kind of damage. They just kill the rest of your stock. Always check for dead and dying worms regularly and throw them out. Hook lobworms about a third of the way down from the head or tail, threading the hook through until it is completely buried except for the point and barb.




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Tuesday, 29 June 2010

From the Archives - Fishing is Fishing

Maybe six or seven years ago, for that one year, most of my attention had been aimed at carp and pike, temporarily relieving several waters of over 50 reasonably big carp to almost 30lb, and roughly the same number of double figure pike, including several over 20lb.

Compare the fight of even the most sluggish of those fish, to the feeble flapping of a 6oz dace (which is not a bad sized dace) and you have a better parable than David and Goliath. So how is it I can still enjoy fishing for dace and other small species like roach as much, sometimes more, than those huge - in comparison - carp and pike?

The simple truth is that I do, and just as I have great difficulty sleeping the night before a fishing session for carp and pike, my insomnia is no less the night before a visit to the Dane or Dove for a few hours after the dace. To me, fishing is fishing, and I'm as addicted to watching a stick float steal through a smooth glide on a little river, as I am to watching a pike float bob across the heaving waves of a big lake.

World Record Common CarpImage by Graham Marsden via Flickr

Of course, there is a different kind of thrill to seeing the menacing jaws of a big pike slide over the edge of your landing net, to the thrill of slipping the net under the glistening body of a dainty dace. Where pike and carp provide a raw, macho kind of excitement, more related to the 'Ramboesque' angler, dace, and their ilk, provide the gentle, 'Morse' kind of thrill. The amount of enjoyment derived from each, however, can very well be equal.

All of which probably sounds like a load of rubbish to those carp and pike anglers who have never fished for anything else, or rate their success in no other terms but that of hard fights and heavy weights of individual fish.

One can make a fair comparison only if you indulge in all aspects of the sport, from slinging out a boilie on a hefty bolt rig, to side-casting a single caster on a 4 No. 4 stick, otherwise it is extremely difficult to understand what the 'other half' sees in their particular poison. Fortunately, I do enjoy all aspects of coarse and fly fishing.

I'm lucky, really, in that I can indulge in, and enjoy, the kind of fishing that suits my mood at the time. If I'm feeling lazy, and don't fancy any great activity, even to the point of not wanting to mix any groundbait, or prepare bait of any description, I can elect to grab a bag of shelf-life boilies and fish for carp. I need do no more than take a pair of made-up rods (which can include boilies already hung on the hair rigs) set up a rod-pod with bite alarms, hang on a couple of stringers of boilies, and I'm fishing. With no more to do than lie back on my bedchair and relax. Take off the boilies and substitute the end rigs for snap tackles baited with deadbaits straight from the freezer, and I'm piking in the same lazy way.

Two very handy methods of fishing for those who don't want anything very demanding, or who want to catch up on some reading. Pick a very difficult water where you are not likely to get many bites to disturb either your sleep or your reading and you can have a really idle time. And, of course, always with a chance of picking up that huge fish from such a difficult water, which you can enter in all the competitions, possibly showering you with cash and tackle, and headlines that describe you as a brilliant angler. You can chuckle all the way to the bank and tackle shed.
What a Bite!Image by Graham Marsden via Flickr

While I've got my cynic's hat on: Generally speaking, the less I do, and the more time I have to spend at the waterside doing nothing but casting occasionally, and lazing around a hell of a lot, the more chance I have of catching a fish that would attract the attention I've just described. It's a sad fact that the angler who fishes a river with float and light tackle, and makes a good catch as a result of a hell of a lot of skill and hard work, may never receive any recognition all his life. Right, off with the cynic's hat.

So, in a lazy mood I can spend time at the waterside doing little more than occasionally baiting and casting, possibly catching a few fish, getting a nice tan in the right weather, doing a little reading, and probably a lot of resting. I enjoy that as much as anything when I'm in that frame of mind. And I'm quite prepared to put up with the long periods of inactivity when I'm fishing a water that demands that kind of approach and holds fish that make the wait worthwhile. My problem, if that is the right way of describing it, is that I can take only so much of the type of fishing that involves a lot of doing nothing. Perhaps it's a fault of mine.

So when I've had enough of the sitting and waiting I may decide to go for a spell of feeder fishing for barbel, which, if you do it properly, involves a lot of casting to keep bait going through the swim, and keeping your hand on, or at least near to, the rod, ready to react to that sudden lunge of the rod tip when a barbel takes off with the bait.

An even more active kind of fishing is one I've already mentioned; float fishing on a river, for this involves constantly feeding, casting and retrieving. And even the bit between casting and retrieving demands constant control of the float through mending the line, holding back when necessary, and all the while being ready to react to the smallest bite.

Many times I will choose to fish in a way that is somewhere between the two extremes I've described, which depends of course on the water rather than the species. For instance, I may elect to fish for tench or bream, not on a fishery as difficult as, say, Queenford Lagoon appears to be, but where the fish are reasonably big, though not in the potential record-breaking class, and where bites can be logged by the session rather than by the season.

These sessions could involve bite alarms and bedchairs, but demand more activity as far as feeding the swim is concerned, which may be on the little and often principle (relatively speaking) and frequent casting, particularly if swimfeeders are being used.

Another variation is float fishing from a boat for quality fish. Constant feeding, and casting (when the fish are taking on-the-drop) makes this type of fishing very active at times, and a great change from land-based fishing. Although it can be pain when you fancy a brief walk to stretch your legs and your name isn't Jesus Christ. And relieving yourself can be a work of art.

Not My Biggest Fish But...Image by Graham Marsden via Flickr
So, you can enjoy yourself catching lots of small fish, just as you can catching the odd big fish. The answer lies in how much you put into it. If you approach float fishing for roach and dace, say, with the attitude that you shouldn't be there, but should be on the banks of a big gravel pit waiting for the alarm to go off, signalling a run from a big carp or pike, then of course you won't enjoy it. But if you realise - or, rather, accept - that catching a net of roach or dace demands a lot of skill, and needs to be worked at, and put everything you've got into catching them, then you will come away from that session with a tremendous feeling of satisfaction if you're successful. Or a determination to succeed next time if you're not successful.

Equally, if you normally only fish for nets of smaller fish, you should try to catch big fish with the attitude that it need not be all about sitting and waiting an age for a bite, but can reflect how much effort you put into swim choice (location) prebaiting (possibly) water craft in general, and good bait presentation.

Don't take the stance, as so many do, that your type of fishing is the only type of fishing worth doing. At least not until you've tried it. With the right attitude of course.

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