Why do I bother paying any attention to the weather forecasters?! Looking at the forecast leading up to this weekend and it all pointed to a cracking start to the coarse fishing season – warm, overcast, dry and little wind. In fact there was supposedly no rain in the Somerset region for a good few days leading up to our planned trip to the River Brue. Perfect for stalking chub on the clear, lily lined waters of the river Brue, or so I thought…. One look over the bridge told a different story… the water was high, flowing fast and the colour of hot chocolate. All this water hadn’t come from nowhere – damn those weather forecasters!
I thought sadly of my boot full of fly fishing tackle and was very glad that some sixth sense had told me to pack a float rod, reel and bit of coarse tackle. Guess some little hidden corner of my mind had remembered all the times the weather didn’t quite live up to expectations and prepared for the worst, just in case. In stark contrast, Jason had come prepared properly with full compliment of coarse fishing gear and bait which as it turned out was the right choice.
We started off at a churning, foam flecked weir pool and realised that to have any chance of catching fish would mean ledgering. I’m not a fan of ledgering when coarse fishing and much prefer a float – I spend enough time watching a rod tip when sea fishing so don’t really choose to did it when tackling fresh water. First cast and Jason was into a lovely perch that took his ledgered lob worm. Not a bad fish for the first one of the years open season, in fact first fish on the first cast.
Having planned on fly fishing, I’d stupidly brought very little in the way of bait other than a few small and pathetic worms from my compost heap. Jason being the gent he is shared his maggots which got me off the mark with my first fish of the season – a minnow. A steady trail of minnows followed, along with the odd small chub and gudgeon. Jason followed his first perch by loosing another, only to catch it a short while later to afford the opportunity t remove the baited hook he’d lost in it on his first attempt. The next rod bender turned out to be a foul hooked eel – oh the shame! Whilst the next turned out to be a surprise brown trout of around 2lb.. unexpected to say the least!
I managed to salvage my reputation by landing two nice perch and loosing one, but couldn’t quite compete with the trout.
When the bites dried up, we tried a few other spots at various places along the river with only limited success from the river’s smaller inhabitants. I eventually decided to give the fly rod a go, when I saw evidence of the occasional fish rising. Given the murky water, and knowing that there are some big old chub lurking in the river Brue, I decided for the biggest and most visible dry fly I had – a ‘Chernobyl Ant’. Not sure what kind of creature if any it was supposed to represent but I felt it would at least make an attention grabbing plop when it landed in the water and would be pretty visible. Hopefully a hungry chub would mistake it for some kind of hapless terrestrial and devour it without looking too closely. As it turned out, I did get two fish have a go at the fly. Sadly I didn’t connect with either, but oh what could of been!
Such a frustrating day! good but frustrating. We did have a few feisty perch between us, along with the bonus trout, but I can’t help but wish conditions had been better and that we could of stalked the big chub of the Brue in clear water. If nothing else, the session wetted my appetite to return again soon!