Feedback & Reports

Fished for 3 hours one bite one chub.
On a beat that normally produces plenty of small barbel,and having not had a barbel in the previous two days,started to lose my mojo! Particularly when the two guys fishing on the end of the island, which is a very prolific swim, packed up having caught nothing
Flogging and dead horses came to mind.
Retired to Foy bridge to sink a couple of cold beers with my mate.
Next time?

1 Chub

Spent a few hours on the brook, weather was dry and sunny. River was in good condition, crystal clear and at the normal level for this time of the year. Caught mostly on dry dropper on a PTN, then switched to a dry only around midday as the trout started to feed regularly on the surface. Largest fish was around 11 to 12 inches. All fish returned safely.

6 Trout

2 anglers no fish
But still a nice day fist day back fishing after illness

a quiet afternoon but windy, no takes left around 6pm possibly before they switched on

Towy at Llangadog

6 Trout

Oh dear, set out quietly confident as have usually managed to catch fish here- but then only 2 takes, nothing to the net. Darn! Weather v. bright and windy so fished the sheltered shady bits as much as possible. Dries all day.

3 Trout

7 Chub

I almost didn't make it - had to work a few hours in the morning, then got badly held up on the M5. An HGV driver had decided to try a novel parking manouevre by stacking his lorry into a motorway support at 60mph. At one point I moved 12 miles in 3 hours behind that. So I arrived at the river tired and a tad annoyed, with the prospect of little more than an evening session rather than the afternoon I had been looking forward to as well. But the Usk is such a beautiful river that within about 10 minutes I felt fully refreshed; and after a few more minutes was eager when I saw some small and medium mayflies starting to trickle off. These built through the rest of the day and the trout increasingly rose to them, many in very slack, flat water which made for difficult presentation but really exciting fishing.

I got particularly absorbed with one fish near some willows which looked bigger from the rise forms - large neb, and on some rises his back and tail following at some distance, clearly a bigger fish. So I got completely absorbed with that one for the best part of an hour, but he was so fussy. After about 30 minutes I finally got a take, but on striking there was nothing but thin air! A few choice words on the trout's parentage... however he had not felt the hook and after an interval continued rising. He would not look at that dry again so I had to keep switching, but eventually after about another 15 minutes he gently came up and clopped down another. I struck and this time contact - a big nod and heavy weight, and I revised my assessment upwards a bit, this was a big fish! What followed was one of the most heart-stopping, and certainly the strangest scrap I've had with a fish. I was lucky in that he was confused at the start, and did not realise what was going on. He could easily have run about 4 metres under a thicket of willows, and that would probably have been that... but instead he slowly cruised into the middle of the river. I was very relieved about that, and promptly backtracked into the middle of the river, gently walking him lower down where there was more open water where I would have a better chance of playing him. I was fishing a first generation Epic 480, a true parabolic fibreglass rod and with the huge hoop in the upper and middle section he still did not realise he was hooked. He cruised back down the river with me into a section only about 2 feet deep. He was now at 90 degrees and could see me from only about 4 metres away, and I him in return - at this point my heart started doing somersaults because I could see he was a good 20". For the next few minutes he would just hold bottom or cruise up and down gently, with me walking up in parallel to try and keep between him and the nearest willows, trying to maneuvre him with my left arm out and splashing the water to guide him away towards open water where I wanted to play him. It was ridiculous, like herding a stubborn sheep. At no point did he get really scared, he was fairly happy staying put about 4m away and just eyeballing me, but if I inched any closer (with the half-thought of trying to scoop him up in my net from below, fat chance!), he wasn't having any of that and would cruise away again to maintain the gap. After a few minutes of that nonsense he was in about as good a position as any to fight, so I steeled myself to put more pressure on the parabolic rod and work into the butt section while he was between me and an open bank section of the far side (although a #4 this is a New Zealand rod and does have that reserve for big trout). I imagine it was as close as I will get to pressing the button on a torpedo tube (and probably a lot more entertaining as I got to see it!) - whoosh, off he shot upstream like a rocket, and then at about 8m upstream of me he did what he should have done right at the start, made a sharp left turn and continued powering towards those willows. I could see what was happening with what seemed a grim and sickening inevitably, my drag was screaming all the way but I dared not put any more pressure on, he ploughed on unstoppable. Just before he reached the willows I risked more sidestrain and jammed my rod tip under the water to try and avoid tangling up, the last options. He went at least a couple of metres further under those willows but thankfully there weren't too many branches underwater. However he did get around one fine, peripheral branch and we now entered the second weird part of the fight. For a few minutes I was basically playing the fish on two rods - my own which was still bucking like crazy whenever he made a charge, and the outer willow branch. Thank goodness it was a nice whippy willow, and not an oak! Eventually the line went dead and I thought I had finally lost him, as usually happens in this situation in the trees. But I could still feel something when I put on pressure, so crept up to the willows keeping the line tight - and saw a big tail poking out from the outer branches. I crept up very slowly from downstream, and then made a big lunge with my net scooping from the head end. There was a big crash and then for a moment nothing but stems and leaves around the top of my net... for a second my heart dropped, I thought I'd messed it up with the final sweep and he was away. But then lifting the net a bit higher another crash, he was inside the net! And again - in fact I had to quickly brace the opening with my left forearm - only just in time as he slammed into it, almost springing straight out again. How could I have thought he wasn't in the net, he was longer than it! A beautiful fish, plump, fin- and scale perfect , and with that wonderful golden yellow hue and many large black spots so typical of the Usk trout. I kept him in the net in shallow water, unhooked (nicely in the scissors, the hook a little bent - two more slices of luck!), measured and he went 20.5" to the tail fork. Took a few nice pics and was then going to weigh him, but while briefly fiddling with the scales he slipped his nose over the rim and was off! No matter though, actually I was glad to see that as the big ones do tire more and need careful handling keeping them in the water - he obviously still had lots of energy and it was lovely to see him power off again from the annoying trout shepherd!

I probably should have caught a lot more after that but bumped off about half a dozen fish in succession, understandly lost my focus a bit (I did at least have the presence of mind to change the bent hook)! But I did catch six other trout in the course of the day, all on dry, small to medium mayfly patterns - all were much smaller in the 9-11" category, but they fought very well for their size. The fish are all in good condition at the moment, and there seems to be a lot of fly-life around now that summer has come. Some caddis later too, although they didn't seem to be in the water at the moment - it was mayfly patterns today.

I guess the conclusion from all of that, is today I one lucky ***; but heck I'll take it, makes up for all those sessions when the big one gets away! But despite the tangle on many beats, this is why I love the Usk so much and I would not have it any other way - it is a proper wild river as Nature intended, with glorious, large wild trout, not a manicured garden stocked with farmed sluggards as many of the chalkstream beats are. And some days Lady Luck smiles on us - maybe she felt sorry for me today after that that motorway experience, what a turnaround. Thanks for another lovely session!

P.S. I know others have mentioned it, but access into the river is quite tricky along most of this beat, in many places impossible or requiring a scramble down a steep bank. The wild nature of this beat is wonderful so that's a good thing in a way, but I do think a ladder at some point would be a good idea - otherwise it will certainly put off a lot of older or less mobile anglers, which would be a pity as many of these stretches have very easy wading over even substrates with very few large rocks (or at least in lower water conditions - there are some deep sections too).

7 Trout

The first rule of Chub Club is that you don’t talk about Chub Club...

Chub Club is a made up association, for which I am the founder member, for anglers who have caught more than 20 chub in a 2 hour session and not a dingy back street establishment somewhere in West Bromwich that caters for a certain clientele who like the larger lady.

With a reduced sized rucksack and less bait than usual, I braved Heart Attack Hill to reach the Lucky Stones at the beautiful Fownhope 5.

I've always done ok here and it didn't disappoint, with the chub practically chucking themselves on the hook at one point.

23 chub, 1 eel and a big bonus barbel. All the fish came in a mad 2 evening hours between 6 and 8, caught either rolling with fatty pork meat or light ledger with fish flavoured pellet.

So good to be back on the Wye.

1 Barbel, 23 Chub, 2 Other