Chub fishing after dark @ The River Blackwater - Hawley Meadows

The river Blackwater in Surrey is where a couple of years ago Gordy and I re-discovered our joy of fishing. Slowly meandering through meadows and woodland the river is full of life and during the summer a good selection of  fish can be seen in the all the likely spots. Roach seem to be the predominant species and we've had them up to1lb although we've seen bigger. Bream to around 7lb, Perch- well we were shown a photo of a supposed 4lb beast (it was big!) but we've only seen the odd biggy at around 2lb+. We've spotted a good few Carp too both Koi and common at around 8-20lb. Pike into double figures and Chub that reportedly go to 6+. Rumours have it that there is the odd small Barbel too but in 2 years we've never seen one - but it gets mentioned a LOT!

We've decided to go in the afternoon and fish until a couple of hours after dusk. We'll quickly spend 45mins in a swim we call "Guarantee Grove" (in the first year here we never failed to catch from here) before moving down to "Nessie Corner" (I got snapped up here by something BIG) and settling in for the unofficial "friendly competition".

We're fishing the FREE section of Hawley Meadows. This basically runs from the weir all the way downstream until the A3 road bridge.

We arrive with a couple of hours daylight left and head to the grove. On the way down we meet a fellow angler knee deep in a swim we call "the rapids" (due to errrrrrr the rapids). He's trotting maggots and tells us he's not been in long but hasn't had a sniff. After a brief chat including the obligatory Barbel rumour we head to the swim and scan the water looking for signs of fish.

The best tactics we have found for the bigger chub is to use a simple running ledger with a 12 inch hook length and a size 10 barbless hook. For bait we use luncheon meat straight on the hook. To see after dark we use a nightlight professionally taped to the end of our 10foot quiver tip rods. I also decide on 6lb line because its all I have. Gordy does the same.

We both go either side of a tree and cast out. I get a quick knock after about ten minutes but nothing materialises. I give it half an hour and it remains dead. Gordy suffers much the same. So much for "guarantee Grove"

While walking back down to the corner we again pass the guy that's trotting. This time he's in "Chub cliff's" (on account of the high steep bank). still he's not had a fish.

Nessie Corner is my favourite swim on this stretch of the Blackwater. In the summer the weed and tree's that stretch right out create an impossible to fish safe haven for the Chub that glide the far banks over a sandy/stony bar that is on average around 2-3 foot deep. In the winter it opens up into a wide open bend with a few deep holes and the minimum of cover. My PB Chub at 4lb 8oz came from here as well as another handful of four pluses. As well as getting snapped up by something big- due to me oversetting the clutch and the fish steaming off before snapping the 6lb line. Gordy too has had a few four pluses as well as his PB at  4lb 10oz.

As we both fish this swim at the same time, I ask Gord if he wants heads or tails for first cast. He decides on rock,paper,scissors.. and wins. He even does a little dance and gets out the gloating cream to rub it in.

His cast puts him down the middle slightly left. Mine falls short and stays pretty central. around 2 meters shorter than Gordy's. We crack open the flask and await dusk.

Within five minutes or so I'm getting taps to the quiver. nothing definite, but something is interested. Is it Colin the crayfish I ask myself.? Then I watch as the quiver pulls round 6 or so inches, stops, I hesitate then I strike. too late. I missed. Damn. Hesitant potato. why? Gordy's rod remains still and he gives me a look that say's "WHAT are you doing?"

I re-bait and cast back out. This time slightly to the right. Again within ten or so minutes I'm getting an irregular tapping and knocking to the tip. I decide I'll hold the rod and touch ledger the line to see if  I can feel anything. The tip moves and I watch it for about 10 seconds slowly nudging very Crayfish like. I feel next to nothing on the line. I'm unsure then wham it goes round hard but just as quick returns straight before falling silent. I fear I missed a very good chance. Still not a sausage on Gordy's rod.

I re-bait again and Gordy reels in to recast. Much to his dismay he finds the hook empty and I hear him muttering something about a waste of an hour.

This time Gordy goes middle left but is short, mine flies by and lands far down the centre of the swim. He advises me I'm in a good spot and we wait patiently. We both sit for twenty minutes without a sniff then my rod tip starts to again gently knock. Gordy curses the game of rock,paper,scissors while I quickly pick up the rod and touch the line. After a couple of gentle taps I feel the lightest of pressure on my finger as the rod slowly pulls round a few inches. I strike hard to compensate for the extra give of a quiver tip and the motion is stopped dead as I connect into a fish. "I'm in". The rod bends hard and against the flow the fish gives a good go for its money. A couple of short runs though and it's done. Gordy tries "the old net trick" and "accidentally" lifts the net early causing the fish to spill out and make an extra bonus run. But to no avail, it almost makes the fence post but I manage to recover and then it's in the net. Lousy picture but at 3lb14oz I was chuffed to bits and dancing a little jig on the bank, borrowing some of that cream.

The next hour saw nothing. Not even a knock. The Chub I caught had caused some splashing and we were hoping nothing was spooked. It was getting very cold and Gordy's mood was, lets say sombre. I was still buzzing from the fish I caught.

 I had a small knock and as I was staring at my rod intently, Gordy suddenly  stood up, rod in hand and called out "Yep -I'm in". Out of nowhere the old master is into a fish. Judging by the way the line is being stripped from the reel, it's a beauty. I watch net in hand as he gets it in front. The fish again barrels off stripping line. It heads for the fencepost snag and I hear Gordy say "Uh-Oh- hang on we have a problem". He frantically struggles with his reel and I see he failed to set any resistance in the clutch, while struggling he knocks of the anti reverse switch.... arms waving like a banshee.

The fish almost makes it but by some sheer fluke/skill Gordy manages to get it over the net. It looks like a nice fish though not a four. we weigh and take a (poor) photo and it weighs in at 2lb 12oz. I'm well chuffed for the G-man, He needed cheering up.

A final recast as its getting rather cold, even in my three pairs of tracksuit bottoms and thermal boots. Gordy forgets to layer up and only brings a hat and pair of suspicious looking thin black leather gloves. He looks like he's about to steal a car or strangle someone.

A fruitless hour later we call it, pack up and head down the cold, muddy path towards home. We're both happy with the evening and look forward to our next outing here. One day we'll break the elusive five.

Bream Tease

The Rapids

The wier

Guarantee Grove