Another weekly trip to the Welland. The forecast was for heavy showers but I thought I would take a chance. Read on to find out what a mistake that was.

After setting up I cast out with a piece of Gloucester cheese, courtesy of Helen when my cheddar sticks ran out. It soon became evident that the chub didn’t mind the change. A chap stopped and was chatting to me. I had only been fishing for about ten minutes when he arrived and about five minutes later (11.40) the rod tip pulled round and I was into my first fish. After a spirited fight a 2½lb chub was in the net. A nicely coloured fish.

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The chap was quite impressed and stayed quite a while. He was thinking of starting fishing again after a break from the sport. At 12.25 another firm pull on the rod top produced the second fish, this time 2lb 13oz. It fought a bit harder than the first and I thought it might have been even larger. Shortly after this the chap left, mentioning that rain was expected.

I decided to use up some of the luncheon meat that had been opened a while ago. I cut up a handful of pieces and catapulted them over to the far bank, and put a piece on the hook. At first I didn’t think the chub were interested but following a clap of distant thunder I looked around to see what the sky looked like, and when I looked back the rod was in an impressive arc. But I was too late, the fish had gone. Damn!

Soon after that the rain started. One minute I was in sun, and the next it was raining quite heavily. I had managed to get my waterproof over-trousers on and by the time I had donned my jacket it was bucketing down. My logic was I would sit out the ‘shower’ in the hope that a bright evening would follow. Good logic, but the ‘shower’ lasted about two hours and during this time the rain was falling in what can only be called a biblical fashion. My ‘waterproofs’ soon were shown not to be worthy of that label, although I had forgotten to zip up the pocket openings in the trousers and button down the zip cover on the jacket. By the end of the two hours I was literally soaked to the skin; down to my underpants! My shoes were also full of water.

During this unpleasant period I had a piece of cheese out and at 15.30, through the driving rain, I noticed that the line had slackened. I tightened thinking that the increased flow in the river had moved the weight, but to my surprise a fish was on, and a good one at that. Anyone seeing me playing this fish in the driving rain would have thought I was mad. In fact I thought I was mad. The fish weighed 3¾lb and was at least some consolation for the drenching. I apologise for the quality of the photograph. The rain on the lens didn’t help.

Sure enough around 17.00 the rain finally stopped and the sky brightened. But I was absolutely soaked so couldn’t really contemplate staying. Also, the river had coloured quite noticeably, and previous experience told me that this often stops the fish feeding. I hadn’t had another touch since the 3¾lb fish. So, with some sadness, I packed up and started off home just as the expected beautiful evening was setting in. Perhaps some better waterproofs are needed.