River Frome Winter Chub Challenge... Part 1

River Frome in the Stroud valley

Today I kicked off my new quest, the river Frome winter chub challenge (RFWCC). It might not sound much of a challenge, catching a chub from a river, people do that all the time... But I'm trying to catch one from my local river Frome, and I'm not even sure there are any in there! The last time I saw a chub in this river with my own eyes was back in the mid 90's, so somewhere around 20 years ago. I've heard rumours from various people that they are still in there, but most of these stories involve the infamous "one that got away" and none of them came with any photographic evidence, which in the age of smart phones and digital cameras leaves me feeling somewhat sceptical about these claims. So I've set myself the challenge to try and catch one of these mythical beasts, which are rumoured to go to over 4lb, not bad for a little river you could almost jump across.

I wasn't expecting to catch anything on today's session, writing the day off as more of a recon day before I'd even got there, as it'd been about 6 months since I last visited this stretch at the start of the trout season, and after the recent rain I didn't even know if it'd be fishable. I arrived just before mid day, with a minimal amount of kit in a small backpack so I could stay mobile. The river was pushing through pretty hard, and it had a little colour to it but it looked like it would be fishable in a few slacker areas.
I set up my trusty feeder rod with a simple fixed paternoster rig on a 6lb mainline, with a 4.9lb hooklink of about 2ft. For weight I had a pot of old AA and SSG shot to add as needed, and a size 14 wide gape korum hook at the business end. For bait I'd brought a ball of cheese paste, and a few worms from out my garden. I found a nice little spot with a small area of slacker water on the far bank that looked like it might be the refuge of a fish or 2, and made my first cast with a pinch of cheese paste on the hook.

My trusty old Abu feeder rod waiting for a tug from Chevin

It didn't take long (about 2 seconds) before I realised the water was pushing through a lot harder than I first thought as my rig was washed down stream. After adding a few more shot (7 more AA's to be precise!) I finally managed to just about hold bottom. Sadly my problems didn't end there. The water was flowing through with such force it was washing my cheese paste off the hook within seconds. I decided to give up on the spot and head down stream where there were a few bends in the river which I knew created a back eddy that I'd be able to fish in.
On my way downstream I noticed another fishy little spot by a floating raft of dying reeds on the far bank. I swapped to a worm hookbait as I knew the cheese paste didn't have a chance in the flow and cast just upstream of the reeds. The rod tip was bouncing all over the place as my bait trundled slowly down the river bed, the extra water in the river had me outgunned, and I had no idea if I'd even be able to detect a bite if I got one. That is until I got one! The tip tapped gently, then straightened out as the line slackened before hooping round as something tried to make off with my worm. It wasn't to be, however, as my strike was only met with the resistance of the flow of water. Upon inspecting my now half a worm for tooth marks, it was obvious that the culprit was more than likely a trout that had torn the poor little fella clean in half. As the trout are out of season, I decided to leave him be and carry on down stream to the bend.

2 of a family of swans on the river

Upon reaching the bend there were a family of swans swimming up the river, the young now the same size as the adults but still sporting their fluffy brown-grey feathers. I sat down and had a spot of lunch while I watched them slowly make their way up the river, making sure they were long gone before I cast out as the last thing I wanted was a family of swans diving on my bait. I rigged up another worm, and flicked it into the back eddy to my left and set the rod on the rest. It wasn't long before the tip bounced round violently 2 or 3 times in quick succession as something had become enraged after making the mistake of eating my worm. I wound down and struck into it, and almost instantly it was peeling line off the spool as it dived down stream and made its way across the river. It felt far too big to be one of the little wild brownies that inhabit the river. Had I managed to snag myself one of the legendary chub on my first outing? I managed to turn the fish before it got into the far side vegetation, and now it made its way up stream, still stripping line from the spool. I was just thinking to myself that it had to be a chub to take line the way it was, when it leapt a good 2 feet clean out of the water to my right, confirming that it was, in fact, a good sized brown trout. Slightly miffed by the discovery I almost let it get into some overhanging debris during a lapse of concentration, which wakened me up to the fact that it was a good sized brownie, and despite being out of season I wanted to get it in the net as I hadn't had any brownies much over a pound out of the river probably since I last saw a chub in there! A few bum clenching moments later as it made one last bid for freedom by leaping over some overhanging dead cow parsley I managed to scoop it into the net. It was indeed a nice fish for the river, and I wondered if it'd even beat my long standing PB of 2lb 8oz that I'd caught when I was still in school. I quickly weighed it in at 2lb 3oz and took a photo before holding it in the flow for a few minutes making sure it returned to its watery home fit and strong.

2lb 3oz Brownie. Not the chub I was after but nice to see good sized fish making a re-appearance in the Frome

I decided to move on down to the next bend after all the commotion the trout had caused. The flow wasn't as strong there so I decided to give the paste another go to try and avoid any more brownies. I hooked a small bit of a twig to mold the paste around and it seemed to do the trick of keeping it on the hook. The spot looked good for a fish, but sadly nothing was there, or if there was it wasn't hungry, and after about 15 to 20 minutes as the light started to fade I decided to call it a day.