Ah Mr Bream....

I've been expecting you ( apologies to Ian Fleming ).

After seeing all those roach rolling last night and nabbing two of them, we were looking forward to more of the same.

But fishing doesn't work like that does it ?

We started fishing mid afternoon and after a few casts with the feeder, the tip dropped back and something big, heavy and slimey was on. Yes, a bream. Decent one too.

Then another and so it continued. Now, I don't mind one or two but this was ridiculous, all bloody great things. The one I weighed went 8lb 5 oz. It certainly wasn't doing the roach fishing any good, they were everywhere.

At this time I was fishing about twenty five yards out, on the edge of the crease, where big swan and zebra mussel beds gave way to a clear, sandy bottom. I still can't decide whether the fish like feeding over the mussels, but they certainly are a pain in the arse.

It was calm and sunny and we we sitting at the bottom of the bank that was sheltering us from lightest of northerly winds. 

The breamy action continued until dusk, then surprisingly stopped. A while later I saw a couple of fish rolling close in, they looked like roach, so the feeder was lobbed fifteen yards out on to shallow water. Bite straight away,  roach around the pound mark, then an ide, then more roach.

Bully also had an ide, a nice one, going just under 5lb.

We sat there in the dark, the river now quiet and as flat as the proverbial mill pond, albeit on six hundred yards wide river. Not a breath of wind, the sounds of geese and oystercatcher in the distance and just the occasional ship rumbling by.

I managed to wangle out one more big roach just over 2lb and ended up with seven, plus four good ide and about fifteen bream, all seven to well over 8lb. Bully had a similar haul.

It surprised me that the roach switched on well in to proper darkness,  maybe a response to the bream departing ? You just never know in this game.

We walked the thankfully short walk back to the van, knackered but happy. Again.