2024 News

 Despite the easing of daily and weekly activities influencing the infrequency of these blogs now, looking back over the past year, there is no shortage of stuff to report. 

Although less intense, the annual schedule still sucks up plenty of time and effort with the placement of roach spawning boards to supply substrate in areas that need it, plus the regular collecting and relocating of spawn to suit the river and streams; the annual desiltation of barbel spawning gravels plus, of course, the less publicised ongoing campaign to have the UK cormorant licensing policy changed, which you’ll remember Budgie and I kicked off some years ago.

And, what a year it’s been… starting with the worst winter floods in living memory prompting some folks to say ‘Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this bad, at least not for a while…’ 

With this came a significant reduction in angler footfall on the river banks, with many stretches being closed or inaccessible, so predator management in the form of armed tours of duty had added importance… More on predation later.

Early 2024 saw two milestone moments, one even outstripping the worst winter flood in living memory… 

First, on a cold February morning, the last two Avon Roach Project tanks were collected from ‘Project HQ’ formerly, and now again, known as my back garden, by the EA guys, Phil and Lewis, and given to Sparsholt College, where they’ll contribute to the positive education of the next generation of fishy crackpots, where I’m told there have even been lectures based upon our doings. Image that: us on a college curriculum…   

We loaded the trailer then celebrated with tea and a ‘doorstep’ of the sweetest lemon grizzle cake known to mankind: estimated at about 3746593 calories a slice… negated by the lemon making it one of our five a day, we reckon.

It was a morning of mixed emotions again. Firstly, obviously, because Budgie was absent, who I know would have offered all kinds of daft help like getting one corner of the tank for loading or backing the truck down the drive, but also that these two are the last to go. I saluted them as they were loaded and whispered a fond farewell message I could hear Budgie saying through a mile-wide smile in my head – ‘Now f*** off and don’t come back.’

Almost twenty years, would you believe?

Joyous and sad and even relieved, dare I say. It is impossible to calculate or even comprehend the number of precious roach that spent the first year of their lives in these tanks. Wonderful memories of an experience and achievement that will never fade. 

Another milestone moment was that the day before, I received my first state pension payment – So, officially an OAP… Yes, I know… I can hear jaws hitting floors and eyebrows being raised out loud to gasps of… ‘but he only looks about 27…’

Where once there was a fish farm/hatchery now lay a blank area baring the bruises and scars of a decade and a half of vital service to Avon Roach (I know the feeling); so I levelled and grass seeded the ground (so I can resume bitching about having to mow it every few weeks) and dug a wildlife pond for the froggies, toads and newts that have always been present (we even once found an adult froggie in a tank, which must have climbed up the ivy which had grown all over one side of it). I’ve also set aside (returned) a corner to compost heap, just beyond the pond, for the slow worms which have always done well. 

I have retained the four patches from where the tanks in the middle of the garden once stood for wild flowers in memory of Budgie, and once again used the seed mix he used in his own garden, which took a while to get going this year due to the cool and soggy late spring; but once they did, the garden buzzed with the sound of hundreds of bees and other insects as each evening I’d sit and watch the sun set, and raise a glass to the bestest best mate in the whole wide world, without whom none of the amazing Avon Roach Project madness would have happened.

When spring did finally arrive, fortunately, the river had dropped just enough to set about our usual annual spawning board placement, and this April returned mixed fortunes and some surprises…

We placed spawning boards on the Stour as well as the Avon, partly to assess population density (particularly on the Stour at the request of a progressive local fishing club), partly to supply additional spawning substrate and partly to relocate spawn (Avon only) as part of our ongoing population management and genetic and bloodline strengthening. And, while spawning board placement can be a bit of a lottery, even with our 399 years of experience, we were unsuccessful on the Stour, which could simply be down to spawning board location, which was influenced by possible interference by canoeists and paddleboarders (one of which was lifted and left high and dry – not sure what might have inspired the decision not to just drop it back where they found it), so we’ll try again this coming spring in different locations. However, on the Avon we experienced some rather more predicted success, plus a few surprises thrown in with two new spawning sites within the same stretch of river. Both were surprising, but for very different reasons.

The first, was a short distance below an established spawning location, but far enough away not to be a part of the same spawning group. It was simply a protrusion of a couple of structures covered in fontinalis in a flush of water fifty yards or so below a weir where the main population were going at it.

The other was in the middle of nowhere and far from textbook roach spawning conditions, according to what we thought we knew, where a small group of small roach were seen showing an interest in a few strands of ranunculus flotsam. There didn’t seem to be enough spawning substrate even for the small number visible and showing interest; that was until a spawning board was floated over them, when, within minutes, the immediate area around the board became stuffed with spawning roach; very encouragingly, from dinky little three year olds to eyewatering whoppers, plus everything in between, signifying good annual recruitment which was always going to be the icing on the Avon Roach Project cake.

Over the ensuing days, the spawning board became smothered in eggs which were left where they were to hatch: so heavily covered, that we’ll place two there next year to help them ‘spread their load’ or, perhaps try to install something permanent.

So, as well as simply supplying substrate in some places and leaving the eggs to hatch in situ, we also carried out some carefully considered spawn relocation as part of our ongoing population and genetic management.

It was extremely encouraging discovering new spawning sites, and while it’s not instinctive to return to the place of birth, existing in the same environment and reacting to the same conditions at spawning time, means that many naturally do as they reach maturity. However, it is also known that a percentage, some estimate 50%, establish new spawning sites, and so it goes on and is compounded year on year; a great survival strategy when you think about it; which, of course, will be far more noticeable with the higher population density the river now has, thanks in part to our efforts.

Just to clarify on the matter of spawn relocation… we manage extremely sensitively as we are fully aware that over-interference could trigger localised decline; but we think we have enough experience to enable the right level of management. Afterall, we’ve done OK so far…

On the barbel spawning gravel cleaning front, as last year, we were set to get in the river in early May as the windows of opportunity are narrow and determined by the salmon having finished with the gravels and the chub and barbel needing them, while optimising the effectiveness of our efforts by doing it close enough to the fish spawning while making sure we have left enough time for the cleaned gravel to be recolonised by invertebrates. However, coming out of winter means high groundwater levels at this time of year and the risk of any significant rainfall pushing the river levels too high for safe access, especially for a clumsy clod like me. Unfortunately, this May fell in the middle of a late soggy spring and a river too high for safe and effective gravel cleaning, and by the time it was safe, the chub had gathered to spawn. So, we came up with a cunning plan, rather than just abandoning it for a whole year.

The plan was to set aside time in October before the salmon and trout need the gravels, and clean areas with the jets and pumps and do a far more robust job on them in the hope that the ensuing winter is kind and the gravels remain relatively clear for the following spring. Our view is that even if there is some resiltation, by taking the big guns to it, or even if we just rake it, it will still be more favourable than simply leaving it. And, the level of effort is minimal when compared to the possible benefits it might achieve… and besides, we’ve nothing better to do.

Unfortunately, bad luck struck again and heavy rain and full river meant that we had to also abandon our autumn plans… but we’ll be set and ready to go next May. Damned frustrating, all this eco-warrior stuff…

On a positive note, what has continued to delight is the contact and engagement with folks from other rivers up and down the country, inspired by us and looking to do the same.

Finally, as promised, a word on predation.

Although the figures change as the overwintering cormorant numbers increase, many of the historical facts and arguments remain unchanged. Our (Avon Roach Project) original call to have them placed on the General Licence remains the main objective and we now work in partnership with the Angling Trust who joined us. But, anyone with any experience of these things will know the infuriatingly frustrating glacial rate at which these things can move (often being battered into submission by attrition).

It’s important to pick the moment and while we have achieved positive change, some of our efforts over the years have proven frustratingly fruitless - primarily a consequence of shifting (in some cases, insensitive) Defra personnel and ministers during this time.

More comprehensive details of our original policy challenge can be found on the ‘cormorant’ section of this web site… 

So, we updated our old data and added new, such as the recently re-designated, now red-listed, Atlantic Salmon, and resubmitted our challenge to the current licensing policy. Eventually we were granted a meeting at Defra headquarters in London with the minister and associates in March; where somebody uttered, as we went in ‘choose your words carefully as you’ll be speaking for two million anglers’… so, no pressure then.

I can’t give too much detail here, but the long and short of it is that we delivered a very compelling case and had an agreement that significant change to the current policy would be initiated. 

A few exchanges, honing the finer details, took place, and all was expected to be concluded before the predicted General Election in autumn. Then, everything hit the buffers and was derailed with the announcement of the July General Election and the subsequent outcome.

So, the reset button was hit and we will have to go again when the time is right, and hope the new lot can view it as an environmental positive rather than a party-political negative. 

In the meantime, we will be gathering tag count data under cormorant roosts along a southern chalk stream in which salmon parr and trout have been tagged over recent years. Working in partnership with the EA, Game and Wildlife Conservation Trust and Angling Trust, the aim is to add to the already compelling evidence we have of cormorant predation on our native and supposedly ‘protected’ inland fish populations, with the added gravity of our red-listed salmon.

Well, that’s it for now, so over and out, and I’ll let the pictures below tell the far brighter version of the story.

Once again, thanks to everyone who continue to show fantastic support and appreciation for our efforts.

Elmer Fudd on armed duty in the worst flood in living memory, and taking a well-earned tea break on a popular stretch of river south of Salisbury… We might make light of many things but the seriousness of support for things like the protection and wellbeing of our inland fish populations cannot be underestimated.

 

A bittersweet moment as the final two tanks were loaded… The long trough, as we called it, which you can see being slid between the tanks, originally designed for hatching trout and other gravel spawners, was going to be our daphnia farm where we’d grow all kinds of natural weeblies to feed our roach, which turned out to be the biggest duffer in the garden. We tried for years but failed miserably. All we managed was stinky, lifeless sludge. Good job we were a bit better at growing roach.

A reminder of Project HQ at full pelt. Goodness knows how many roach were thriving in that lot at any one time.

Cleared and levelled and a nice size pond excavated and filled for whatever wants it. Interestingly, within days it had been colonised by great diving and whirligig beetles and pond-skaters. 

Budgie’s wild flowers took a while, but once the spring arrived and they got going they exploded.

It all looks like quite an effort, but it really isn’t, which is part of the appeal.

The bees just loved the blue ones, which were the first to explode like a firework display. There were literally hundreds of ‘em all over, making the whole garden buzz. Perhaps there’s an argument that all roundabouts, verges and spare corners of parks should have a handful or two of wild flowers chucked on ‘em.

Cute newt… which will hopefully enjoy the pond and add to the population when she’s older.

A dinky little youngster, and part of a crowd of slowworms with a whole new compost heap to explore.

Once again, it was the irresistible allure of our ‘magic’ spawning boards that revealed a surprising local population density at a previously unknown spawning location. They were just as bad an aim as the rest as you can see from the spawn all over the top of the board… 

And this is how it happens… In their driven instinct to be part of the action and the explosive nature of it all, some launch themselves completely clear of the water, possibly exacerbated by the action being funnelled into a more concentrated area by the magic spawning boards. Quite a frequent occurrence but, so fleeting, it’s rare to capture on camera, but here we got one in mid double back flip.

And there were some big girls too.

This image shows good size variations in the roach. An indication of a healthy local population.

Not an inch of the spawning substrate was missed. They really are something special.

This vigorous activity went on for days, with each individual trying with all their might to pass on their genes to the next generation.

Some images need no words at all… Just look at that crowd of roach.

And, as usual, the spawning board was clogged thick with beautiful healthy roach eggs, which, once the roach had finished, we just had to lift for a look and a picture.

This close-up shows the eggs are ‘eyed’ as we fish farmers call it, meaning that the tiny roach within are developing nicely, and probably within a week of hatching.

Although a serious business, to the onlooker it might seem a little like boys with ‘Pooh Sticks’ as river keeper, Stuart Wilson, and me lay for ages trying to get close-up pictures of the roach spawning (and to see just how close we could get, while enjoying a privileged moment few get to experience). This was in a stream from where we relocated some of the spawn into the main carrier as part of ongoing population management.

Being as the matter of predation was touched upon in the main body copy, I thought I’d just drop this image in here as a reminder of where and when the cormorant licensing campaign started, which was with the delivery of our petition in London back in 2012. It shows that no matter who you have fighting your corner, these things crawl along at a rate it would be easy to be defeated by. But we will not! 

And to finish off, a favourite shot of some of the bruisers now frequenting the Avon, thanks to our efforts, and contributing each year and retaining the strong genetics that make the Avon Roach so special.