Just One Cast

The 16th just hasn't been the same for me since I began Spring carp fishing. That, plus the Wye rarely starts with much gusto. Gone are the days of planning, anticipation, a sleepless night beforehand, followed by disappointment. Well, usually.

I rarely get on the river until July, but as the fish have spawned and there's been a spate which is now running off with two feet on, I thought it may be worth a trip. Then my cocky son sent me an image of a chub he'd had with his first cast of the season. Sod it, I'll go and have a look.

Parking away from the visiting hordes and tip-toeing around the sheep and thistles, I found a smooth run that looked perfect for a chub or three. I lobbed a few pellets into the flow and returned to my car to sort my gear. I only had the basics as I wanted to travel light and to keep everything simple. I left my usual barbel rod alone and put the reel on a 1lb test, eleven-foot rod along with a line of about six pounds breaking strain. The business end consisted of a size 10 hook, two bits of pellet glued onto a hair, and this was wrapped in some strong Cheddar cheese. The weight was an SSG attached to the tail of the swivel knot so it would release with less chance of a break should I get snagged. This was then wrapped with plasticine substitute.

Before the cheese was added.

At my chosen swim, I added a few more pellets and bits of cheese, cast, and sat carefully on a thistle-strewn bank. My bait seemed to come too close to the bank, but I figured that's where the free stuff would have gone and hey, what if I do get one first cast and show the young pup he's not so smart.

I felt a pluck, then another. Steady now, that was probably small stuff. Don't screw it up, patience and all that. Then the line straightened and pulled across my finger - I was in. It fought quite well and did the usual dive for the undergrowth, but soon succumbed, and there was my own chub first cast. It was long but lean, obviously a few weeks of rest are needed before the chub are ready to face the anglers. Nobody gives a toss and will carry on regardless, but I do, and I'll not be bothering them until next month.

So, I did fish opening day for about three to four minutes, then I went home. I rang the Boy to rub his nose in it, which he took on the chin. He was on his way back to his river armed with a new rod that had arrived during the day. Later, I had a message telling me he'd had another chub with the first cast of that rod. 

I know when I am beat.