This article is not about tackle, bait or methods to catch fish (although I may mention it in passing) it is about an evening I recently spent at Hever Castle.

Before I get to that let me tell you a little about myself and my fishing, I am an Environmental Scientist and I work in East Grinstead, I am not married (but not for much longer) but live with a wonderfully understanding partner who puts up with being woken at the crack of dawn as I creep out of bed and that all pervasive smell that seems to linger in the car and on my clothes. My fishing life commenced as early as 3 years old so I am told where I was catching mackeral off the back of my dads boat. The move to freshwater came somewhat later,  I was nearly 8 before I discovered the joy of creeping along the overgrown banks of small streams catching minnows, gudgeon and even the odd small roach or perch. From there I have never looked back until now I have developed into that most common of angling types the passionate all rounder.

It was a pleasant evening weather wise and in a break from organising my wedding which is later this year I decided that I would take a visit to Hever Castle and put some bait into a few swims that I have been trying to develop over the last few weeks. With the lack of spare time in my life this summer I had decided to try and maximise my chances by pre-baiting a number of swims along the river section at Hever where I could drop in for a few hours when time allowed.

This particular evening it was pleasantly warm and sunny but the sun had dropped low enough to take its full force off the water. When I arrived I moved down to the river and approached my first swim (I have had some success here catching some nice bream up to 51/2 lbs and roach to nearly a pound) I could see that the bream were in residence and as soon as I put some bait into the swim the fish activity increased.

Why whenever you don't have your rods with you the fish are feeding, is it just me?

Having baited my first swim I moved along the bank watching the Coots and Moorhens as well as a Great Crested Grebe feeding a large well fed chick. Fish were moving everywhere the odd carp would show in the pads or be bow waving between them, the little groups of pin bubbles from Tench moving in lines around the margins and pads.

Having baited lightly a couple more  swims I moved further downstream not far, only a couple of hundred metres and it was completely different not a fish moving apart from the small roach dimpling the surface. A large splash in the margins a bit further downstream attracted my attention to a shallow area where a small side stream enters the river. I crept along careful not to allow my shadow to fall  too far onto the water and sat quietly in the marginal vegetation waiting for the fish to show itself again. Carp! At least 15lbs a dark fish splashed right under my feet in amongst the duckweed. Bubbles erupted as though someone had thrown a handful of sherbet into the water. I noticed another fish further along in the shallows blooming and crept along towards it, this was not a feeding fish it was behaving differently. Spawning, a large Tench rolled in front of me and others rapidly appeared turning the water into a seething cauldron the colour of those 1970's brown bathroom suites. I watched these fish spawning for a good few minutes before deciding they would be at it for a while and moved further on.

For those who fish the Hever river stretch you will know of the family of swans that love your bait far more than the fish seem to, clearing your lovingly prepared swims in a matter of minutes. Tonight I was in luck they were hauled out on the bank just beyond a willow that lies in the water. I approached carefully not wanting to disturb them or get hissed at (the cob does seem to be rather aggressive at the moment so beware if you meet them) tonight they allowed me to carefully and quietly approach them. I sat quietly and moved slowly, finally getting within 3 or 4 metres of them without disturbing them a couple of photo's and I left them in peace to preen and sleep.

I could not resist returning to visit the spawning fish, they were still at it with a few bream visible in the deeper water possibly feeding on the loose spawn, who knows maybe they were spawning as well.

Enough, I had been nearly 2 hours when I had promised to be no more than 40 minutes. A memorable evening at, in my opinion, the most beautiful place we have the privilege to fish.

Will Kennedy