It seemed a shame to completely waste the leftover bait from the Wye, so I took it down to the local river on Sunday evening, to see whether I could locate some more chub. It was a humid day and, whilst the river had risen a good foot or more since my last visit, it was no more coloured.
Of course, I started where I had caught the chub previously, however a 4oz roach was responsible for my only bite in half an hour there. I decided to take a long walk downstream but found little to encourage me at first. That was until I turned around to walk back and heard a loud crash in the river behind me. My immediate thought was that a salmon might be responsible, but the fish then jumped three more times, revealing itself as a fat, golden carp, of decent size.
I had a few trots, on the off-chance it was accompanied by a few big chub, but gave up pretty quickly and made my way back upriver. I stopped upstream of a tree on my own bank, which seemed as likely as anywhere to hold my target species. The flow was steady and it looked a chub-or-bust kind of swim; however, I was soon into a steady succession of roach. With time running away from me, I upped the loosefeed considerably, to try and make something happen. The roach faded away and when a bite eventually came, the rod hooped over and a heavy, ponderous fish moved into mid-river. I thought at first that it might be a huge chub, as I didn't really expect to hook anything else of size on a stick float, but as the fight went on, I drew the logical and correct conclusion. It was a large, bronze bream - 4lb 10oz - and was swiftly followed by another one, just a bit smaller.
I was out of time after that brace so, with plenty of bait still left over, I threw in around two pints of maggots before leaving. The next day, I returned for another very short session, but this time with a bomb rod and some worms I'd dug from the garden. I had roach, chublets and two more bream from the previous days swim. I also took a walk to where I'd seen the carp and cast in a lobworm. The tip was bouncing around all over the place as a result of fish brushing the line. As the night drew in, large bream began rolling. There must have been hundreds there, but I never caught one, in twenty minutes or so of trying. I'm looking forward to targeting them next season, when there is more time.