The tale of monster Yorkshire Chub

It was back in 2021 at the beginning of March, I had been sent a picture of an incredible Chub that been caught from one of my local rivers a couple of months previous. This fish was huge in every way, especially for up here in the cold north of Yorkshire. I found my self looking at this picture regularly and wanting it in my album, being an angler that has grown up fishing for Chub locally on the Yorkshire rivers for getting on 30 years this fish would be the pinnacle in that quest. The season end was fast approaching and by this point we had just over a week left. The winter from new year to this point had been perfect 90 per cent of the time with the rivers running low and clear and not really cold, we experienced odd cold snaps but nothing prolonged. Added to this we didn’t get much snow either. I find snow a killer up here, with the tretcherous country roads a lot of salt gets spread, and any amount of snow once melted takes all that salt straight in to the river systems and this can ruin the fishing for days if not weeks.

Full of confidence from a pretty productive winters Chub fishing on two other rivers I decided I was going to get a ticket. It seemed a lot of expense for a weeks fishing, but if I hit it hard I was sure I could make something happen. This time of year most if not all of my fishing is done under the cover of darkness with family and work restraints but you have to work with what is available time wise. I had booked the Friday off work to allow me to explore in day light for that first visit. I walked a couple of stretch’s and a friend of mine sorted me a gate key on short notice and where best to park. I spent the rest of the day swim hopping with lob worms casting regular to try and build a picture of the topography of each swim. On this stretch 3 areas caught my attention so they were given a little bit of bait to return after dark with a couple of balls of liquidised bread in each to prime them. Fishing lob worms proved successful not for the Chub but managing 4 perch over 2lb to 2lb 13oz, a result in my book.

Darkness soon came so I headed back to the van to cook some warm food and refill my flask for the evening ahead. I started on the furthest down stream of my baited areas and decided to give it a couple of hours in each swim, this is a bit more time than I would normally give each area when working out a stretch but with it been deeper and slower and not as many fish as the last few rivers l’d been fishing I felt this would give me a better chance of a passing fish. I dropped in to the swim with my usual setup 12ft quiver with a 2oz glass tip a small wire cage feeder of 20g 18in of 5lb line to a Kamasan B983 size 4.

A decent flake on the hook and a bit of liquidised softly squeezed in the feeder and cast just shy of the flow on a prominent crease. A text book area, I find creases are definitely more of a fish holding area’s than snags and overhanging trees. I stuck to 30 minute casts and 4 casts without a single indication it was time for a move.

The next Swim l’d primed was another crease but not as obvious speed differences in the flow but the bottom felt a little firmer. Again bread on the hook and in the feeder and cast to the edge of the flow. Half an hour passed with out any indication so l wound in baited up again and recast to the same area, feeling the feeder down with a 5 second count it settled nicely, I placed the rod on the rest and let the flow take up the rest of the slack. A couple of minutes in to this chuck I had one small pluck, my first indication, l’ve found one I thought to myself. Poised on the edge of my seat and my hand hovering over the reel anticipating a pull over, I waited but nothing for the rest of the 30min chuck.

A third cast was made to the same area, the rod placed in the rest and as always I let the flow take up the slack, Whack out of the blue the tip was over and I struck in to a positive force head shaking and kiting down stream. The hook bait must have been on the bottom for 10 seconds no more. After a violent battle and my first Chub of the campaign was in the net, it looked a lump but not of the proportions of my target fish, unhooked and weighed it registered 6lb 9oz on the flyweights. A brilliant start to the night, a couple of pictures taken and I walked the fish about 100 yards down stream and released it.

I settled back down in the swim now bubbling with excitement as fish of that calibre are normally in small groups of a similar size so another fish was on the cards the next bite could be the one. Baited again with bread and cast back in the kill zone. There wasn’t a quick bite this time and the tip remained motionless, I was starting to think that may have been my only chance when 20 minutes in i had a tiny tremble. There was definitely another wary Chub in the swim, again my hand covering the reel ready to hit the bite given even half a chance when the tip ever so slowerly pulled over as the tension increased, the river had been clear of any debris all evening so I hit it. I was now attached to an angry Chub that had just realised it was hooked this fish rooked and dived all the way in, probably one of the hardest fights l’ve had from a Chub. I soon slipped the net under what looked another bruiser of a fish. This fish was a little smaller than the first one but came it at 6lb 2oz an incredible brace and made for a brilliant first evening on the new ticket.

By this time it was getting on for 11pm so called it a night and packed up but before I left I decided to put the rest of the bucket of liquidised bread on the three areas before I left. I put a couple of balls in the first two swims but noticed there was another angler a couple of pegs down stream of my final spot so left that one out. The whole drive home I kept thinking there’s not too many fish about up there I could only be one bite away from achieving my dream Chub.

The following evening I got down to the river about 7pm to find the same angler was in the same swim on the upstream part of the stretch. I knew where I was going after the events the evening before. My rod was already set up so it was only a case of checking my hook point and baiting up, I opted for the same tactics 30 minute chucks with the bread. I had soon used my four casts up with only a small Pup about 12oz to my name. I was going to move down stream to my other baited area but decided to have a walk up stream and see if the other angler had been doing any good, we had a chat for a few minutes but it was obvious neither of us were letting slip on how we had been getting on. I wondered back to my swim playing over in my mind if to make a change baits and give it another hour in that same swim as it was nearly 10pm now. I decided on a change of bait and grabbed a ball of my fishmeal Boilie paste from the cool bag in the back of the van. I changed to a shorter hooklink of 12in with a hair rig with a super sharp Drennan Continental Boilie hook in a size 8 and a small Boilie wrapped in paste. An approach I’d also done very well on over the previous few months.

By this time the other angler upstream had packed up and after putting his gear in the car came and crouched down behind me for a chat. The first cast on the paste resulted in a bite after only a couple of minutes with a “tap tap” then came a slow pull over I struck to nothing, I quickly wound in and recast to the same area to be met with an almost identical bite again “tap tap” but this time on the slow pull over I let it materialise for a split second longer. Again I struck in to nothing when a voice behind said laughingly ” thats more bites in 5 minutes than l’ve had all night. I looked round and said “i won’t miss the third!” I’ve been in similar situations before and I think the Chub was just picking it up in its lips and moving back untill it felt any sort of tension and dropped the bait. A lot of anglers don’t give big old Chub enough credit, if they are aware of your presence even in a slight way they can be extremely cautious and hard to catch.

I made two vital changes to the rig, firstly I shortened the rig to about 9in. I then pulled the paste off the boilie and nibbled it down with my teeth on all the edges except the edge against the hook and moulded a small amount of paste on. The thinking behind these tweaks were to give me a faster indication and to offer the fish a smaller hook bait that it would find harder to just pick up in its lips.

The cast was made and this time I didn’t place the rod down in the rest l lent the rod on the rest but kept hold of the rod over my lap. A few minutes later that tell tail bite “tap tap” but on the second tap I hit it and wallop the fish was on. I casually turned to the angler behind and said “told you” I must say the fight wasn’t spectacular the fish nodded a few times broke the surface out above the spot and I just guided it in chugging air all the way like a bream. As the fish came closer we could see with our head torches it was a fish of special proportions, I knew it was the big fish I had set about trying to catch. My heart was pounding just praying for it to go in the net without any trouble and the words coming over my shoulder saying “that could be 8lb” didn’t ease the tension at all. Like most big Chub l’ve caught by the time you get them to the net they are pretty much done, the mesh swallowed it up no problem. At this point my mind was all over the place, I had just landed the fish of dreams in my first two nights on the stretch. The sheer size of this chub was unreal it looked like a Carp. After a quick rest it was time to get her weighed, there was a lot of anticipation at this point because both of us were fully aware of this fish and it’s potential of going 8lb plus this close to the end of the season. She was hosited up and the needle spun round to 7lb 10oz on the Reuben’s, this was an absolute Rhinoceros of a Chub let alone a Yorkshire fish.

The photo shoot went well getting some amazing shots for the album to look back on for years to come. It makes such a difference having someone there to take your special photos and once she was returned to her home. I received a hand shake and a well done, I was then left to pack up on my own in a daze. It was one of them moments in angling that are better shared and one I won’t forget…