Free fishing on the Teme at Ludlow

There’s no such thing as a free lunch, I’m told (unless you visit your granny) and it seems to me that the same can be said for free fishing. What you don’t pay for in ‘bank charges’, you pay for in other things such as lack of facilities, unkempt and inaccessible pegs, presence of teenagers larking about in the shallows . . . and no fish!

My short sojourn with comrade Jocky to Ludlow and the free fishing stretch of the river in the town contained elements of all of the above, particularly the lack of fish being caught. Actually, I am being rather unfair here because although neither of us caught anything, we certainly saw plenty.

After wandering along the bank for ten minutes negotiating vicious brambles and a narrow concrete precipice that purported that be a fishing spot, we emerged from the undergrowth on to a small rocky outcrop about ten metres upstream of a tiny weir. The river here is quite pretty in places, if not wild, but it wasn’t the stimulating scenery that attracted our attention, it was the half-dozen or so dark torpedo shaped silhouettes that were scudding gently up and down in the shallow, slightly perturbed water above the weir and over towards the opposite, even more accessible bank of the river.

Riviera Kid cuts a fine figure on the bank
. . . and fish jump out on the other side!

Barbel. Big juicy unsuspecting barbel just waiting for a couple of likely hunter-gatherers to come traipsing along. Now, I haven’t fished for barbel since I was about fourteen and I remember having quite a productive stint at the free fishing section of the Severn at Ironbridge using big leads and luncheon meat. So, not wanting to change a successful method, we wacked out a couple of cannonballs armed with spam right into the swim.

The fish didn’t seem bothered by the splash of the cast and carried on with their sunbathing. Unfortunately, they also didn’t seem that bothered about the bait and took to gliding past and pointing out the large cubes of processed meat to their mates with a wink and a slight snigger. Not disheartened, we varied the bait menu and laid on a starter of halibut pellets, followed by a main course of strawberry and shrimp boilies, all washed down with feeder pellets and hemp. And guess what. Yes, no fish.

As always, I enjoyed the company and the experience, and I did resist the temptation to walk down to an area just below the weir and give a thick ear to a group of teenagers who decided to strip down to their shorts and splash around with a small inflatable. Instead I just gave them Paddington hard stares and tried a few ancient Jedi mind tricks, which must have worked because after about an hour they scuttled back into the bushes shivering (with fear, no doubt!)

If anyone out their would like to offer up a few tips on catching barbel on the Teme, then I'm all thick ears.

On the other hand, they might have been chub!

Riviera Kid

Fly fishing at Delbury Hall

The fly fisherman is the angling equivalent of the wild west gunslinger, so it stands to reason that The Riviera Kid couldn't wait to strap on a six shooter and bag himself a load of old Trout. Sounds easy. Looks easy. But if I had been firing a colt 45, it would have taken me about an hour to hit the first tin can and I probably would have killed the deputy in the process!

The setting for my first foray into the world of the game fisherman was the quiet and idyllic Delbury Hall in Shropshire. There are two lakes, fairly open, well groomed and brimming (it seemed) with rainbows and brownies (see how easily I slip into the colloquialisms of the fly fisher - I must be a natural!)

My good friend and long in the tooth fly expert, Bob, kindly supplied the gear and expertise for this very enjoyable trip. It costs £15 for five hours fishing (sounds steep but you can take one fish up to 4lb home for the pan) There is no bailiff at the site so they trust you to put the money in an envelope and post it through a letterbox in the small fishing lodge (which also has toilet and coffee making facilities - although I didn't see anyone making a toilet!)

As we approached the lakes, the fish were surfacing everywhere and the smell of trout was in my nostrils (hmm - nice!) so I couldn't wait to get going. Unfortunately, it did take me about an hour to master a half decent cast and I think that my fly presentation left a lot to be desired (can you knock a trout unconscious with a well aimed Wooly Bugger?) Bob had good luck and nearly landed a 3-4lb rainbow but it shook itself loose inches from the net. 

My casting improved throughout the day but my luck with the fish didn't. They simply pushed their noses out of the water and blew bubbles of fishy laughter. However, I still enjoyed the experience and would go again, and maybe even purchase some gear of my own. I understand that Matt Hayes says you can catch carp on the fly, so who am I to contradict the Midland's God Almighty of Fishermen.

Bob struck gold (well rainbow) with his last cast of the day and netted a nice 2 1/2lb trout for the pot. I drove home with a new skill under my belt and another venue notched up on the Fairweather Fisherman's list. Next blog, free fishing on the River Teme at Ludlow.

Carp fishing at the Vineyard

Good weather, good company and a shed load of fish. What more can a man ask for? Good coffee? Dancing girls?Well, take a flask and put bromide in your brew, that's what we did when we rolled up at the carp pool at Halfpenny Green Vineyards near Dudley in Staffordshire in late July (not really on the bromide - isn't that what they use for painting fences?)

Riviera Kid on fire!

Being the fairweather type, the sun had to be shining, and of course it was on this quiet, picturesque little pool tucked just behind a vineyard (yes - an actual English vineyard that makes nice wine and sells strong cheese!) The carpark is dusty and rough enough to knock out your false teeth but leaves you only with a 45 second walk to the pool, beautifully kept, with about 20 to 30 fishing pegs in amongst the trees and the reeds and the lilies.

You pay £6.00 for a day's fishing and although there are a few bait and tackle restrictions that seem a bit petty (no boilies, no floating baits, no tins on the bank, no action man T-shirts, size 14 hooks or smaller - which is too small!) all you need is a big slab of best value luncheon meat and you're away.

Jocky on the ocky

My comrade for the day, Jocky (henceforth known as 'Jocky') hadn't fished since the last milenium, and then only down the local cut as a lad where you'd be lucky to bag one or two gudgeon in amongst the whales (in the Black Country, whales is what you have on your bike, one at the front and one at the rear!) And let me tell you, he was blown away and hardly had time to sit down and drink his bromide.

From the moment his waggled luncheon meat on a size 14 hair rig hit the bottom, he was pulling in the carp, none of them smaller than 1/2lb and plenty in the 2 to 3lb range. The biggest we had that day was a four pound GIANT mirror carp (to me, of course) which I called Gary, although a chap further up landed and whopping 18lb mirror after about half an hour's dancing. The best place to fish seemed to be right in the margins, and the chap who collected the money advised me to fling sweetcorn violently at the water just by my feet to bring the fish running. By golly it worked!

Gary

If anything, the fishing was a little too easy with time between fish being no more than twenty minutes at any moment. You certainly become spoilt and it could give the newbie a dangerously false view of the joys of fishing.

However, who wants to go somewhere and catch nothing? Not The Fairweather Fisherman matey-boy. So all in all, a great day out and some nice bushes to go and pee behind. Next blog, first time fly fishing at Delbury Hall.

Riviera Kid, The Fairweather Fisherman