I had a few jobs to do last week so it’s been two weeks since I was last on the river bank. The large pool has been so reliable that I’m afraid I went back there again.

My last visit was relatively disappointing but this time I had only been there about 15 minutes when my rod top was pulled around further than I think it has ever been before.

Unfortunately the bite came almost immediately after casting and I chose that particular moment to look down at my reel, and looked up to see the full curve of the rod far too late to hit the fish. To say that I kicked myself is putting it very mildly indeed. The thing is you never know whether it was a particularly big fish giving the rod a mighty heave or an impetuous smaller one that hadn’t yet learnt about caution.

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Needless to say things then went quiet. The downstream wind was making life difficult. Casting to far bank, as I was, resulted in the wind drawing a big bow in the line and tended to drag the bait away from the intended target spot. It also took just that bit longer to tighten the line after casting and a couple of times a judder on the rod top could have been a fish taking almost immediately after the cast, but before I had tightened enough to register the bite effectively.

I had brought some maggots this time, principally to try for perch, but I gave them a go in the ‘chub’ hot spot to see if a change of bait had any effect. It didn’t. I was also feeding loose maggots into a spot just beyond the near-side bottom weed, by some large bullrushes, in an attempt to bring in smaller fish and hopefully some perch.

I continued to struggle with the wind and at 12.20, almost immediately after tightening the line, it dropped back and the rod quivered. Suspecting a drop-back bite I tightened and was into what felt like a good fish. It fought hard and kept diving to the bottom. Unfortunately it must have found some submerged weed that wasn’t visible to me and it managed to slip the hook while in it. Some parts of what appeared to be ‘cabbage’ weed came back on the hook. I think it is the only time I’ve actually lost a fish while visiting the Welland, but that didn’t make it any less galling.

At 13.20 a half-hearted bite resulted in a chub that probably weighed no more than 3 ounces. It amazed me that it could have taken the big lump of cheese, and that I actually hooked it at such range.

Fifteen minutes later a more positive bite rewarded me with a chub of 2¼lb that fought hard and nearly repeated the disappearing act by getting itself snagged in the upstream lilies.

I knew things would go quiet again so I rigged up a float and started fishing where I had pre-baited with maggots. Well, I certainly had attracted plenty of small fish. They intercepted the bait no sooner it had hit the surface. I persevered but other than a small dace that managed to take a mouthful of maggots, there was nothing of any size.

I went back to cheese at the far bank and following one particularly good cast, that fell just under the bank-side vegetation, I got an almost immediate take that left nothing to the imagination. I tightened into a strong fish that, like the previous ones, tried everything to snag me. Fortunately I managed to muscle it out of danger and landed a nice chub of 3lb 13oz.

At this point I decided to try for one more chub and then move about to try for perch. Unfortunately my theory that the chub would oblige again was flawed, and even after the wind dropped, and I could position my cast exactly where I wanted it, and keep it there, no positive bites materialised. There were a couple of short pulls that could have been smaller chub, but nothing I could hit. I finally moved around 18.30 but had decided to pack in at 19.00, so that didn’t really leave much time to explore other spots. I did drop into a likely spot downstream and actually stayed until 19.30. The ubiquitous litter, that was clearly angling related, indicated that somebody had fished there earlier. Half an hour or so of exploration with legered maggot produced nothing.

I think that if I want seriously to target the perch I shall need to sideline my chub instincts and actually spend a day more dedicated to the species. Today’s attempt was, quite frankly, half-hearted. Maybe after the school holidays when there will be less pressure on the water.

The kingfishers were active today. On one occasion two of them came tearing downstream and one diverted to follow the contour of the bay, flipping to show its underbelly in the process. An amazing feat of high speed aerial acrobatics.