The trouble with this big river fishing is its bloody
addictive and at a time of year I’d usually have Pike and only Pike on my mind,
I managed to convince the Princess she wanted to spend a few days out west once
more. It’s too late in the year for
camping so we booked a cosy chalet and set off.
As usual we planned to spend time exploring the area and enjoying long
pub lunches then I’d head off to the river for a bit of fishing. We had an easy drive apart from the rain
which battered us for the last hour but things had brightened up by the time we
reached the valley and we settled into the digs and chilled out. After going out for a pint and a steak (it
was still raining but this didn’t really register…) we returned and I sorted my
kit out for the following day, everything was set.
The following morning I looked out of the kitchen window and
had a shock, the brook had burst its banks and what is normally the campsite
now looked like a brown lake.I checked
the levels, three metres up and rising, the river had come up over a metre
since the previous evening.Still I set
off undaunted, Barbel like these conditions don’t they?I’d be sure to find somewhere to fish even if
I had to do things a little different.A
flooded road meant a slightly longer journey but I was squelching through a
soggy field by 0930, then I came to the river which was a foreboding sight.The water was at the very top of the banks, a
good ten feet above the level when I’d last visited this stretch, swims I’d
previously fished were completely underwater. The river was a torrent carrying all kinds
of debris including what looked like whole trees, this was way beyond my
angling experience.I only felt able to
fish fairly close in as the main river was scary and after a good look around
found myself a spot to fish, a large eddy between two semi submerged trees.
I foolishly started off with feeder rigs but the swirling
current kept shifting these and after losing a couple in snags I switched to
moulding groundbait around the lead.Not
that this made much difference as what is normally bankside vegetation had
become tough snags and things were becoming farcical.I moved upstream to a spot I’d fished before
and here I was able to fish without too much trouble but I had to admit I was
out of my depth in every sense.I’m sure
it’s possible to catch in these conditions but that would require far better
knowledge of the river than I’ve been able to build up thus far.I told myself I was gaining experience and
when I returned to the water I’d be better equipped to give it a good go.I packed up in the early afternoon by which
time the river was over the bank and filling the field behind me.A half day had been the plan all along as we
were off to meet my nephew and his girlfriend for dinner in the evening and a
great time was had by all!
The next couple of days were frustrating on the fishy front
as the river continued to rise, peaking at 4.85 metres above the normal
level.The fields beside the main road
were under water so I didn’t bother to try and find the river thinking I’d have
time before we had to leave.Just when
things were going in the right direction the river rose again, then surely
Sunday’s storm would wipe out all my chances?Maybe not, by the evening the river was dropping again and it looked
like I’d get one more chance.
The following morning I returned to the same stretch again,
the water had dropped six feet or so and was a lot more friendly looking but
was still a formidable beast. I walked past my previous starting swim to find
there was a third bush which had been completely submerged before, no wonder I
was snagging!I started around 1100 in
the swim where I’d ended up the previous trip.I fished either groundbait squeezed on the lead or PVA bags of pellets
and hemp, hookbaits were mostly pepperami or boilies wrapped in paste.The day was dull and mild with barely a
breath of wind and I found the river much more manageable with considerably less
water in it.I started with confidence and
felt I was fishing effectively but despite sitting it out here until the early
afternoon no fish proved my assessment right.
What do I do?Should
I move or should I pile a load of bait in and hope to tempt some fish into the
swim?Usually I’d go with the latter
option but I’ve gradually realised that this rarely works.If there were fish about surely I’d see a
sign?I wound in and went for a wander
and liked the look of the next fishable spot upstream which had shady bushes
either side and I was soon settled in again.
Here things improved, no snags and after forty five minutes
or so I had a fast chub rattle which had me half out of the chair and boosted
the confidence but nothing further developed, at least by now the sun had come
out.After two hours in this spot I
realised that if I was going to move again today it would have to be soon and
after convincing myself for a second time that it was the right thing to do off
I wandered downstream.
The trouble was nowhere I could get to the river looked anything
like as promising as the two spots I’d already fished so I ended up opting for
the snaggy eddy I’d fished on the first day.Out went the rods again and I sat back with little confidence but happy
to enjoy the pleasant weather, the sounds of the birds singing and the river
rippling.Throughout the day I saw many
birds that were too quick or too small to identify but I recognised
Kingfishers, Great Tits, Long tailed tits, Bullfinches, Buzzards and maybe a
Kite?I’d only been fishing for fifteen
minutes or so when bugger me the tip banged over and I actually hooked a
fish!Thankfully it didn’t want to fight
and I soon had a nice Chub in the net and I was well happy as it’s a long way
to come to blank!Twenty minutes later
the other rod banged and I was into a second fish which had a bit of weight but
this one didn’t want to fight either.Another good Chub went in the net and this one required the scales.I’d barely got settled again before a third proper
bite produced another Chub, the smallest of the three but still very welcome!
By now the light was fading, Tawney Owls were waking up
amongst the trees and I chucked in the last of my groundbait hoping the dusk
period might produce more fish and hopefully a Barbel?Unfortunately despite fishing into darkness the
opposite happened, there were no more banging rod tips but I was privileged to
watch a Barn Owl fly across the river to within a few yards of me where it
swerved nonchalantly and followed the near bank upstream.
So that was that, I’d headed west with high hopes but all my
plans were thrown up in the air when I was confronted with a river that was way
beyond my fishy experience.I’d made the
mistake of just assuming the river would be within its banks and I’d be able to
find some fish and have learned the hard way that you can’t take these proper
rivers for granted.
I’ve got plenty of fishy plans for the coming weeks but on Saturday
afternoon I found myself home alone so figured I might as well go fishing, the
question was where? I hadn’t fished in
the sea for a month and hadn’t planned to head east again this autumn but with
high tide due around 1900 if fit the time slot perfectly. So I put some gear together, rummaged in the
freezer for bait and off I went.
I ended up at the Steep beach, somewhere I hadn’t fished all
season and today it was purely because the fresh south westerly would be
blowing over my shoulder, making the threatened heavy showers more
manageable.I usually avoid this area
because it is so popular but tonight there were only a couple of anglers away
to the north and a group about half a mile to the south.I set up pretty much bang on where I’d planned,
my thinking for this being it was the least taxing walk, if not the shortest.For once I got the shelter set up first and
made sure my camp was comfortable before getting the rods out.Tonight I had pulley rigs on both with a
whole squid on the heavy rod and smaller squid or strips of mackerel on the
lighter rod.I was fishing by 1515 and
just got everything shipshape before the rain came and the dark skies promised
it would be here for a while.The shelter
was already rustling in the wind and this was joined by the splatter of rain,
add the waves smashing the shingle and there was quite a racket but sea fishing
is rarely quiet in that sense.
Over an hour past, I’d recast both rods a couple of times
but the baits were hardly touched so I was happy to leave them out longer than
normal and so avoid the rain.But these
casts can’t last forever and I wound in the light rod for the third time after
ninety minutes or so to find a Whiting attached to a lump of mackerel.It’s about this time of year that these
things can become a nuisance and I hadn’t seen anything that looked remotely
like a bite.Inland the sky looked a
dark and threatening shade of grey but offshore I could see blue sky, it seemed
the rain was hugging the land today.It
was another hour before the rain had passed, leaving spectacular skies in its
wake but no more fish hung themselves in this time.The wind had dropped and the evening felt
warmer, the light was beginning to fade now and high tide was approaching so I was
confident of catching a fish or two, maybe a Ray if I was lucky.
At 1755, an hour before high tide I saw some fishy movement
on the heavy rod, was that a bite?Maybe
not…But when I wound in a few minutes later
the Pennell was tied in knots.Over the
next few minutes I kept thinking I was seeing something fishy on the tip but
lets be honest, most of the time we don’t think, we know.At 1820 I knew, the heavy rod banged over
then fell slack and I was on my feet winding down as quick as I could, that had
to be a fish?Yes!There was a decent weight on the end and
whatever it was didn’t want to visit the beach, I suspected a small Ray so was pleasantly
surprised when I dragged a good sized Bass up the beach!A result that made braving the rain
worthwhile.
The next casts saw the tip lights attached and as the light
fell quickly the torch strapped to my head.Shortly after getting the heavy rod out again the tip started rattling, I
expected it to bang over again but this didn’t happen and when I wound in I
found the Pennell in another tangle, whether this was down to fish or
crustaceans I don’t know.In the
approach to high tide another hard shower swept in and this was uncomfortable
for a while but thankfully soon cleared and as the clouds travelled northward I
could see flashes of lightning.But this
was the only moving light show I did see as the tip lights weren’t moving in
any kind of fishy fashion.Despite this I
was catching Whiting regularly, I couldn’t see the bites but I was winding one
in on every cast, no matter how big my baits were.After an hour of this I’d had enough, I didn’t
think my baits were unmolested for long enough for a serious fish to find them
so I packed up.Both rods had Whiting
attached when I wound them in for the last time.It had been an enjoyable few hours but that
will certainly be my last casts in the sea this year.
Most of the fishing I do nowadays could be termed
convenient, I don’t travel too far, don’t take much gear with me and fish in a
relatively simple way. But the autumn is
different, it’s the best time of the year so I go all in, push out of the
comfort zone and make a big effort. Over
the next few weeks this will become the normal then by the end of October I’ll
be knackered and sanity will prevail once more.
Before all that I had time for a couple of short trips on the other
river.
Another midweek day off and I’ve been really enjoying the
feeder fishing on the Other river so why not give it another go?We’d had a wet night and the rain carried on
into the morning so I didn’t hurry out so it was 0950 before I got to the
river.By this time the clouds were
breaking up and the sun was trying to squeeze through, the river looked okay, a
bit of pace but clearer than I expected.I’ve now fished two promising swims on this stretch and would feel
confident in either, do I go upstream or down?Last time I’d gone up so today I walked down and quietly set up just
above the Squirrel’s bridge and this saw plenty of traffic during the day.
I’d mixed some groundbait and had half a pint of maggots and
planned to switch between two feeders during the day.I started off with an open end feeder and
corn on a size 14 hoping for an early Chub that I hadn’t managed to spook.After half an hour I switched to a maggot
feeder with three wriggling on a size 16, this brought literally a bite a chuck
from a variety of species; four more Gudgeon and they’re getting bigger! Perch
to 8ozs, Chublets, Bleak, Roach and a Minnow!Probably the first I’ve caught this century.When I fancied a break I’d switch back to the
open end feeder with a couple of grains of corn on the bigger hook and a break
I certainly got with just taps and plucks on the bigger bait.A switch back to maggots and the action
started up again and all this time I was drip feeding the swim, hoping
something a bit bigger would be tempted upstream.
Late in the session a tapping tip suddenly pulled round and
I’d hooked something substantial that was pulling back, a good fish that felt
very Perch-like and looked it when I got a brief glimpse.Then the line fell slack and I wound in a
tiny chublet that was battered and very dead.I enjoy fishing with maggots on a river like this, it’s fun as you can
catch literally anything but it is distracting.When they’d all gone I switched back to corn and the bites dried up
again but I felt this was how I really should have been fishing.I started to pack up about 1500 and was
wondering what else I could put away that would delay finally winding in when
the tip yanked round.I decent fish
pulled the tip over as it tried to head towards the tree but I didn’t give an
inch so it was forced to circle in the pool.After that it was easy to lead a decent Chub upstream above the net and
let it drop back in.A nice fish of
three pounds or so and it would have been the perfect ending but of course I
had to have one last cast.
A few days before the madness commences, a Saturday with a
few hours to kill, I had a sudden urge to go back to the river but this time
with a lure rod, some Pike sized lures and minimal tackle. I went to a different stretch today, here it
is slower and a bit deeper and looks the part.
The afternoon was sunny and bright but the north westerly kept the
temperature down to something even the Pike police would approve of. The river was up a bit with a dark stain and
this stretch had more flow than normal. To me it looked pretty good.
I started at the upstream end of the stretch with a shad and
worked my way down, moving fairly quickly as on these small rivers I feel I can
cover the water in front of me in three or four casts. I started off with optimism but this ebbed
away as the river seemed lifeless but halfway along the stretch I noticed a bow
wave, had my lure had awakened something?
A couple of casts later I had my answer, a fish grabbed the shad and
tried to do battle but didn’t have the size to resist for long. I pulled a small Pike into the margin and
grabbed the trace, the fish shook its head and released itself, job done.
I carried on downstream, switching different coloured shads
but whatever I tried failed to raise any interest. I stopped for a brew and surveyed a likely
looking bend that had deep water and cover, it looked spot on but I couldn’t
raise any interest today. After that I
clipped on a Slider and made my way back upstream at a bit quicker pace, a few
casts here and there but had no more interest before mine ran out.
After this I had a trip to Norfolk on a day which started
with fresh winds and drizzle but then got steadily worse. A sane person would have put the cuddy up and
sheltered but I kept moving and managed to find a few fish to get the season
underway.
Friday 4th October, Giles, Rich and I loaded the
motor then head off westwards again to say goodbye to a friend. The musical menu was curated by Rich and
included selections our friend would have enjoyed alongside us, all of us wore
a Tee shirt featuring a beloved band, a theme for what was to come. It was a long journey but we just had to be there. We got into town a couple of hours early and
the only thing to do was go to a pub. The
local pale was good and could have flowed freely but I’m older now and if not
wise I have learned from experience. At
the chapel there were a few familiar faces including Steve and Dave, the
service was musical and moving, red eyes and choked throats but we recognised
that many others were hurting more than we were. We said goodbye to Rob and only now we begin
to realise how much we are going to miss him.
As we were three quarters of the way there we carried on to
the valley for a couple of days but it didn’t feel so happy this time around. The first day was a stretch further upstream
than we’d fished so far. The river was
up and access was tricky but there were enough swims for the three of us to
have options but I didn’t make the most of mine. Wherever I tried all I managed was fast Chub
bites that I never could have connected with.
I considered scaling down and sticking a couple of bits of corn straight
onto a hook but ended up sticking it out with pellets and meat for Barbel and
blanked. Giles had a decent Chub and
Rich had a handful. Still the stretch
was pleasant as was the weather although my mood stayed gloomy.
The following day was dull, damp and dark but we were on
familiar water having fished here from the opposite bank in September. Today we arrived with confidence having
caught fish here in the recent past but there were five anglers on that
opposite bank! I started off way
downstream in a spot I’d fished in 2022, here the fast Chub bites followed
me. Really I should have stuck at it and
caught a fish or two from this swim but an angler somewhere on the opposite
bank was playing Radio 1 too loud and I could only stand it for ninety minutes
or so.
After this I humped my gear all the way to the upstream end
of the beat, fishing as close to the successful September swim as I could. Here I had a proper bite on the first drop
and managed to land a Chub of about three and a half. I fished with confidence for a couple of
hours but all I had there after was the lightning fast chub rattles. We suffered a couple of hours of rain despite
which I moved a couple of times but didn’t find any more fish. Rich made better swim choices and managed a
Chub and our only Barbel of the trip but today Giles didn’t trouble the
scorers. A surreal weekend came to an end, we loaded the car and drove home through the night.
So we go on. Back to the
unpredictable east coast, one last go for a big Bass, a creature we haven’t
been able to track down with any consistency and tonight we’d opted to fish the
most awkward beach we know. So we set up
at the ‘cauldron’ both of us with a bass rig each baited with ragworm and a
‘big bait’ rig, squid in my case. The
evening was comfortable with a south westerly on our backs and a clear sky, on
this occasion the sea in front of us was relatively placid and the leads mostly
stayed where they should be which can’t always be guaranteed. There was a method to our madness however as
this area has turned up plenty of Bass in previous Septembers, with a couple of
bigger ones thrown in.
Our ragworm baits got attention right from the start, Giles
beached a tiny Bass and was striking at bites regularly but without success.I wasn’t seeing any bites but my bait was
being stripped every cast.After ninety
minutes of frustration, out of the blue the heavy rod whacked once and
slackened off, big Bass bite?I wound
down quickly hoping to catch up with a fish but I just wound in a battered
squid…I got a fresh squid out and a few
minutes later something made off with it and banged the tip over.This time there was weight on the end and a
fishy resistance was it a good Bass?No
it was something totally different and always welcome, a Ray.
By now it was getting dark and once I’d clipped the tip
lights on, the fish seemed to have woken up as the light on the Bass rod
wobbled regularly.In the run up to high
tide both of us were getting bites regularly but hitting them was the problem,
we guessed there were loads of small Bass out there, but would there be
anything trying to eat these?If there
were we didn’t manage to tempt any but we did catch a couple of Bass each,
averaging about twelve ounces apiece.An
hour after high tide the bites slowed up again but there was enough attention
to keep us interested and we fished on until we ran out of worms.
That will probably be my last trip off the beach for a
while, the Bass will be moving out soon and the Whiting will move in.When these fish arrive in any numbers it’s
hard to keep a bait in the water long enough for something interesting to find
it.I’ve enjoyed the sea fishing again
this year but it’s been a season best described as an inconsistent.Just when I think I’ve started to work things
out I’m reminded that to attempt to do so is madness but I am learning to spot
the days and tides when it’s just not worth the bother which is something.
A mid week day off, a nice time to have another look at the
‘other river’ in the hope of a Chub.My
last visit here had seen a good result and made me realise that as much as I
like watching a float, I’m not very good at it.I fish more effectively when I’m sitting still, probably because any
fish I spook whilst setting up have time to regain confidence as I make less
disturbance whilst fishing than I would waving a float rod around.I like fishing with a swim feeder and I like
watching a rod tip which I’ve learnt is far more sensitive than I thought
possible.
I arrived at the river around 0900 planning to go back to
the spot I’d fished a couple of weeks previously but would you believe it there
was somebody setting up there.I retreated
quietly and made my way upstream to look for another spot.I passed water which looked the part but the
lack of any cover put me off so I kept going until I came across a spot which
looked too good to be true.This was an
area shaded by tall trees which had a nice flat bank with shallow water beneath
my feet but a deeper channel roughly mid river with decent flow.I was shaded from the sun and sheltered from
the breeze.Upstream a fallen tree
formed another bridge across the river, there was a row of overhanging trees
lining the far bank and a big tree overhanging to my right, downstream.Where do I start?
The first cast with an open end feeder and corn was upstream
and brought a nice Roach on the first cast.I kept plopping this rig into the river, working my way downstream I had
a few bites and landed another Roach but it seemed my grain of corn might be a
bit big?Today I had a plan B which had
been fermenting in my addled brain for a while. Back in December 2019 I made
myself a couple of silly targets for the angling year to come.I realised I couldn’t remember the last Pike
I’d caught from my local river Gipping and I managed this at the first attempt
a few weeks into the new year.The other
was another fish I hadn’t caught for years, a humble Gudgeon.Then came lockdown and the restrictions over
the following year saw me fishing close to home and presenting maggots in spots
I really should expect to catch a Gudgeon from but I never did.It’s ridiculous that I’ve managed to catch
several Barbel in the last few years but not s single Gudgeon.
I clipped on a maggot feeder and scaled down to two maggots
on a 16 hook swung it out and started catching fish straight away.Upstream casts produced small Bleak but there
was more activity on the downstream side of the swim.I caught a good sized Dace then a Perch that
needed netting followed by a couple more smaller Perch.Every cast was depositing more maggots into
the swim and it seemed like the frequency of bites was increasing.Then a bite and a fish that put a proper bend
in the rod and jagged the tip nicely until the hooklength bust, bugger!I tied on another hook, this time a 14 as my
eyesight isn’t good enough to tie any smaller unless I’m under a bloody
light!I will go to the opticians
soon!The lost fish hadn’t disturbed the
swim and the bites continued, I hooked something small and long and brownish…Yes it was a Gudgeon!My first since God knows when and although
not from my local river as I’d hoped it is from Suffolk, kinda.
After that I caught two more Gudgeon quickly and wondered if
the bigger hook was pinning the bait to the bottom?The half pint of maggots was diminishing
which was fine because when it was all gone I’d happily go back to the open end
feeder with a bigger bait and sit it out knowing there was plenty of food out
there.The tip jagged again and I found
myself with a bent rod and a fish with attitude which didn’t want to pay me a
visit.Was this a decent Chub?No there in the clear water was the
unmistakable form of a big Perch, at least bigger than I’d hooked for several
years.Thankfully this one stayed on the
hook and went in the net.The Perch was
a big old bruiser and I got the scales out as I thought it might be a two but
it missed by a couple of ounces.
After that the maggots were all but gone so I reverted to
the open end feeder and either corn of flake on the hook.There were still fish about and I got regular
movements on the tip though far fewer bites.I was hoping a big Chub or two might show up and when the tip went round
again it looked like I’d got one on corn but another bloody hooklength
parted.After that it just went dead and
I didn’t get another decent bite and then as time passed the tip wasn’t moving
at all.I had half an hour in another
swim slightly downstream but that move didn’t improve things so it was a good
time to hit the road. I'd set out to fish for Chub and managed to catch everything but.
Saturday was a bright, sunny day but cool in exposed areas
like this with a wind from the south east. When my
shift finished there was still time for a couple of hours fishing so I joined
Giles and his Daughter D. The drive was
tense, Town were a goal down and running out of time but before we parked we
were cheering an injury time equaliser.
Today the three of us would be fishing from a boat, mooching about on an
old lake armed with lure rods. Yes
shock, horror we were fishing for Pike!
We found Pike at the first stop near the edge of large weed bed, I
hooked one on a shad but it came off just short of the boat then another nipped
the tail off my shad. Three of us in a
boat casting lures could have ended badly but we were careful and there were no
disasters.
We moved to the upwind side of the lake, the plan was to let
the wind move us along, then we’d drop a weight over here and there so we could
stop and cover the water. Giles was on
the oars and I took the opportunity to work a slider behind the boat, jerk
trolling anyone? Well the Pike liked it,
I bumped one then hooked the next and managed to get it to the boat, my first
of the season. At our first stop I had
two more both on new lures; a large twin tailed rubber frog type thing scored
first cast then I had another on an articulated Fox shad thing but that one
fish has practically wrecked it. The Pro
Shads are tough and catch plenty of fish, this new thing isn’t and I won’t be
buying another. Shortly after this daughter D had her first Pike for a while,
this too on a shad, all of these were the same kind of size, four to six pounds
or so.
We moved on and just about everywhere we stopped we had some
kind of action, a swirl or a thump but we didn’t set the hooks into any before
the light faded and we ran out of time.
So that’s the Pike season started and there’ll be a lot more of this to
come over the next few months but it’s not going to be all Pike. When conditions are right I’ll continue to
fish for other stuff too.
Last week the whole time I sat on the beach in front of the
pounding waves my mind wasn’t on what I was doing. I wasn’t thinking about how to combat the
conditions and winkle out a fish, in my head I was in the valley sitting beside
a quiet, tree lined river. I tuned out
the roar and rush of the breaking waves and in my head could only hear birdsong
and the river rippling over rocks. This
river calls to me, more than anywhere else at the moment and I want to be there
as often as possible. The major obstacle
to this is the river is on the other side of the country.
The next week crawled by with me paying careful attention to
the weather reports out west, happy to see plenty of rain and a rising
river.Saturday 7th
September, Rich and I rolled down the A40 and into the happy valley after an
easy drive, we pitched camp at Elmsdale then went to the pub.A couple of pints and a steak filled the tank
while we babbled on like excited kids, the following day we’d be on the
river!Together with Kev and Cooper (who’d
be joining us there around lunchtime) we were booked on to four different
stretches all of which I’d fished before but I hadn’t managed to catch a Barbel
from any of them.For some reason I was
confident of putting this right.Having
a little bit of experience on this river now I had a good idea of how I wanted
to fish, basically big open end feeders, a two foot hooklength made of coated
braid and a hair knot-lessed onto a size 8 hook.The groundbait was basically a hemp and
halibut mix with added hemp, pellets and sweetcorn.I varied the hookbaits boilies or pellets,
all simple basic stuff that has worked for me before.Saturday had been a day of cloud and drizzle
which turned to rain in the evening and overnight it pissed down. We only know
the river in summer conditions with an easy flow which everyone tells us is the
worst conditions for Barbel, all of this rain has to be good right?
Sunday morning, two excited anglers set off with “London
Calling” blasting out of the speakers, heading for a beat on the lower river. Despite having only a vague idea of where we
were going we recognised a couple of landmarks which inspired some guesses and
ended up at the wrong stretch. Eventually
after a tight U turn and a couple more miles Rich and I managed to find our way
to the correct piece of river.When I’d
been here before last year I’d fished the downstream section but on this
occasion we’d ended up at the upstream car park.We stuck our boots on and went for a wander,
the river was up a bit as expected and looked like a stream of milk chocolate
in the gloomy morning light.After walking
to the upstream boundary we had both come to the same conclusion, the area
nearest the car looked the best.Here
there were two swims fairly close together and these were alongside deeper
water just above a stretch of rapids and shallows.We flipped a coin, Rich won and went for the
swim closest to the rapids which was perfect because I’d preferred the look of
the other one anyway.
Here the margins held my attention which was just as well as
low trees would make casting difficult.Upstream there was a nice overhanging tree stretching out and touching
the water, a shady haven for fish if ever I saw one.Downstream there was a fallen tree but the
more I looked at it the more I realised it would be foolish to cast too close
to it, it looked like a snag that wouldn’t be shifted.I set up slowly on an uneven, sloping bank
that was very slippery after all the rain, thankfully I had a rope tied to a
tree at the top which literally kept me on my feet this day.At 0830 I swung my feeder rig out to the
upstream bush feeling strangely confident.This first cast brought a sharp rap on the tip but I was busy arranging
my kit around me to keep movement to a minimum and would never be fast enough
to react at the best of times.The
second cast brought a good bite and I had a fish on the end, a bit of weight
but not much fight, my first fish of the week was soon in the net.A nice Chub which I thought might go ‘4’ but weighed
in at 3-10.
After this things went quiet for an hour or so, the morning
was cloudy but warm and strangely humid. I realised how little room I had to fish, it
was margins or bust but it was deeper this side with a slack and I fancied my
chances.I swung the feeder downstream
slightly knowing I’d have to bully any fish I hooked.A few minutes later the tip went round again
and I found myself on my feet, hand over the spool hauling the fish
upstream.The fish felt heavy and was
trying to pull back, I was thinking ‘barb’ but it was actually a Chub and I
couldn’t be disappointed because I thought a PB was on the cards.In fact it was a few ounces short but a mint
fish, deep dark and solid.I’d barely
dealt with this when a shout came from downstream so I quickly wound in and
hauled myself up and out of the swim in time to net the first Barbel of the
trip for Rich and it was only 1030!
After that I continued to get taps and rattles on the tip
which I put down to Chublets and liners but enough activity to make me think
there were fish about and I had a chance.Every time I dropped the feeder into the stream I was adding a little
bit more feed into the swim.But the longer
I go without a bite the more my mind plays tricks, should I be fishing further
out?Should I move?At just after noon I decided it was time for
a recast but when I picked up the rod there was a weight on the end.What’s more the weight was alive and
powerful!I was awake enough to move to
the right of the swim and haul the fish upstream with me where I managed to
keep it and it didn’t take long for me to realise I wasn’t playing a Chub.I gave Rich the shout and he arrived in time
to take the net and slip it under a my first Barbel of the trip.This looked like being one of my biggest so
far and the scales recorded 7-06 which confirmed this.I know this would be considered small on the
east midlands ship canal and other rivers but to me every Barbel I catch is an
event and long may it continue.
Maybe I’m easily pleased but fuck it, I was now happy to sit
it out in this swim with the feeder dropping regular portions of fish food into
the swim.I knew it may go quiet at
times but I was confident of catching another fish or two.Around 1400 I heard a car crunch down the
track and guessing it was Kev I decided this would be a good time to wind in
and go back to the car where the stove and food was stowed so I could fill the
flask again and catch up.After our
siesta Kev and the dog wandered upstream to fish and I tried to do the same but
was regularly called upon to assist as the Barbel really switched on in Rich’s
swim.Through the afternoon he added
another four Barbel all around five or six pounds, beautiful dark bronze fish
typical for this river.
In my swim the thick trees and darkening clouds made things
gloomy but not even the rain could affect my mood.I was sure I’d catch another fish and sure
enough at 1720 the tip bent round and I had a decent fish that was determined
to power downstream.I’ve heard Barbel
don’t usually go for snags but nobody had told this one, I kept it out but I
don’t know how.After that the fish
decided it wanted to be on the other side of the river and made a good effort
at getting there before I managed to turn it.My shouts had alerted Rich who stood ready by the net and after another
tug of war he lifted it around my second Barbel of the day which was almost the
twin of the first.
We fished on through the rain for a couple of hours by which
time it was getting dark quickly, Rich had his sixth Barbel of the day and Kev
got off the mark with some good sized Chub but I didn’t trouble the scorer
further (a bit like most of England’s batsmen as it turned out).Two of each on the first day?Thank you very much, I’d take that any day
thank you very much.
Day two saw us fishing on the lower river again, a two car
convoy set out for a short drive but most of this was on single track down deep
into the gorge, to what is probably the most beautiful part of the valley.I’d walked along here a few times and my
first casts on the river were made here although I blanked on that day.All that was over a decade ago and I realised
I’d never actually caught a fish from this stretch.Kev pulled over so I followed, we all got out
and walked for a couple of hundred yards upstream, the river was pushing
through and coloured but looked spot on to me.We reached the ‘Slaughter pool’ where a groyne reached out into the
river, about fifty yards below this were boiling rapids, I liked what I
saw.Rich and Kev decided to get in the
car and go further downstream for a look.I was about to follow blindly but thought ‘what the hell?’and made the decision to have a go on the
Slaughter pool, if it didn’t work out I could always have a look downstream
later.
So I set up precariously on the groyne, my chair a couple of
yards back from the end, where I’d manage to jam a rod rest between
cracks.Most of the day I’d be holding
the rod but I’d need to remember to flick the baitrunner on when I left the rod
on the rest.This part of the river is
notoriously snaggy so my methods were slightly different today.Instead of feeders I used flat 3oz leads
which I could mould a ball of groundbait around when I wanted. I also used two piece hooklengths made of a
couple of feet of coated braid between two swivels with a short length of 10lbs
mono tied to one, this had a hook and hair on the end.Feeders and leads are always attached with a
paper clip which will open up with a pull, I was likely to snag so this set up
would minimise tackle losses (Thanks again Mr Lumb).
I was set up and fishing by 0800 on a cloudy, warm morning
with a bit of breeze which made it fresher than the previous day.The first hour was slow but there were enough
tip movements to keep me interested.Something bow waved upstream and I expected an otter’s ugly head to poke
up but whatever it was disappeared beneath far bank bushes before I could
identify it.At 0930 I had my first
proper bite which I somehow managed to miss.Time continued to tick by, I felt sure there would be fish in the pool
and if there wasn’t there bloody well should be.I switched to loading hemp and pellets into
big balls of PVA mesh thinking this would get more feed into the swim at a
quicker rate and at 1105 the tip pulled round and I was in.I was slowly bringing a decent fish back
against the current and was beginning to think ‘barb’ but it soon surfaced and
I could see it was a good Chub, maybe even bigger than the one I’d had
yesterday?It fought well but steering
it into the slack water below the groyne helped and it was soon in the net, I’d
finally caught my first fish from the gorge.In the end it was certainly a longer fish than yesterday but without the
depth and weighed a couple of ounces less.
After a quick photo I slipped the fish back and got my bait
back into the river, putting the rod on the rest while I tidied up and made a
few more PVA bags.I hadn’t finished
this job before my tip bent round and by the time I’d stumbled along the groyne
the baitrunner was purring.I was into a
good fish and this one was pulling back giving me no doubts as to what was on
the end and a couple of minutes later I netted my first Barbel from the gorge,
I had the big grin, the world was a wonderful place.Not long after this the sun broke through the
cloud and lit up the valley, bathing the treelined slopes in sunshine.Crucially though (?) tall trees on my bank
kept the pool shaded well into the afternoon.
The next ninety minutes or so were quiet but I was content
with my morning and began to think about tidying up and having a move.Then I heard a shout from downstream and saw
Rich setting up about a hundred yards below me on the opposite bank.I wound in and wandered downstream and had a
chat with Rich, the noise from the rapids meant this had to be louder than normal.With company of sorts I decided to give it
another hour on the groyne so after boiling the kettle to fill the flask again
that’s what I did.
I had no bags tied up so squeezed a ball of groundbait
around the lead and cast a halibut pellet downstream then left it on the rest
while I got tangled up in PVA.A few
minutes later the baitrunner was ticking and after another precarious shuffle
along the groyne I bent into another fish.This one took line straight away and bringing it back against the flow was
hard work, I got it into the slack water but couldn’t keep it there.I just had to be patient and eventually
lifted the net around another Barbel and was surprised that this was greeted by
cheers from hikers up on the path.If
I’d known they were there I would probably have messed it up.I thought the Barbel was a bigger one so got
the scales ready but when I lifted it onto the mat it shrunk to just over six
pounds.
By now it was late afternoon, the sun was above the trees
and the shade had gone.I’d had four
fish in an hour but after that the action slowed up and I didn’t get another
proper bite.Also the river was now
steadily rising and my lead was starting to roll and this snagged a couple of
times. I should have moved but hoped fish would switch on again as the light
levels dropped.Instead I sat and
watched Rich catch fish after fish the poacher!He found a deep gully close in and extracted four Barbel and two Chub
from it through the afternoon, we are almost sure that one of the Chub was the
friendly one that had paid me two visits earlier in the day.It had been a lovely day in the gorge under
the autumn sun listening to water rushing across the rocks downstream.Wet met Kev back at the car to find he’d had
a couple of Barbel and a few Chub so a good day all round which was capped with
a pint of HPA on the way back to camp.
The third day was spent on the middle river and after a
longer drive in a different direction we rolled down the rocky slope to D &
C, the stretch that haunts me as I always get it wrong here. But today I got out of the motor feeling
confident, I felt I knew the stretch a little and had arrived with a plan,
today I knew where I wanted to fish.This all went Cheech and Chong when we found the river had risen sharply
overnight and was raging through.The
downstream area I’d planned to start at was completely underwater so I ended up
hiking back upstream and perching myself on a slippery slope and flicking my
feeder upstream towards a chubby looking bush.I actually got off to a flyer with a bite on the first cast resulting in
a Chub of three pounds or so but after that things went quiet. Kev and Rich
were a way downstream of me but the phones were not pinging very often, it was
slow all round.
After a couple of hours I went further upstream for a look,
here the famous Salmon pool looked spectacular but I couldn’t get my head
around fishing it. I met the others back
at the cars for a chat and on the way scoped another swim which was large and
flat with slack water in close and overhanging bushes upstream and down. After two and a bit days of sitting
precariously on swims I had no business staying upright on and a forecast of
heavy rain due later in the day a bit of comfort appealed. Kev and Rich had decided to go to the far downstream
end and brave the killer hill but my plan B was to move into the flat swim,
pile in a load of bait then sit and wait for the fish to turn up. The truth is I had no experience of fishing
this kind of river in these conditions and felt my best chance to fish on the
edge of the main flow and the slacker water in front of me which today had
seven feet of water.
So I chucked in six cricket ball sized lumps of groundbait
and started fishing (bloody cricket, honestly don’t get me started…), put the
brolly up, cast out and relaxed. It was slow to begin with but I was getting
rattles on the tip which encouraged me as it was more than I was getting in the
previous swim. I kept casting and added
the occasional ball of groundbait and after a couple of hours had a proper bite
on a big bait swung downstream. I struck
into a decent weight which stayed down and I started to believe I’d broken my
Barbel jinx on this stretch but instead another big Chub popped up. Once again I got excited and over estimated
but the fish was another good one, at 4-04 I’ve only had a handful bigger.
I hoped this was the start of something, that fish would
move onto my bait but it was not to be.
I did see something roll and I’m fairly certain it was a Barbel but I
couldn’t find a way to tempt to it. The
afternoon was wet as expected and with this I couldn’t get motivated to move as
I should have done and paid the price. The
rain cleared in the evening and I watched the sun sink beneath the hill
opposite. As the light started to fade I
decided it would be a good idea to get the car up the rocky slope and onto
tarmac while there was still light in the sky.
When I met up with my pals I was happy to hear they’d both done better
than me with a Barbel apiece and a few Chub.
After a cool night in the tent the final day dawned, it had
come round too quickly as usual.We
decamped and loaded the cars up, Rich and I were heading home later but Kev and
Cooper were staying for a couple more days. Still we were on the road at a good time
heading towards another stretch on the middle river and were soon pulling into
a convenient car park, actually there were several places the motors could be
left.We’d fished here before in 2022 on
a wet day when all of us had caught Chub but we’d failed to find any
Barbel.However that day we’d been on
the opposite bank and we knew the access was much better on the side we were
now standing.
The day was bright and clear with a gusting wind but we knew
there was a bit of rain forecast for later.After a walk along the banks to re-familiarise ourselves we spread out;
Rich fancied a spot in a straight section but Kev and I set up further
downstream fishing from old groynes.Today we were able to fish with two rods so what the hell, why not?Along with my Barbel rod I put together my
old century carp rod which has a 2 ½ lb test curve, standard spec for a lot of
Barbel anglers nowadays.Both of these
were set up with identical feeder rigs. My swim looked cock on, with a slack
and a crease and bushes etc. but none of this impressed the fish and after a
couple of hours I hadn’t even had a bite, neither had Kev fishing fifty or so
yards below me.Not only that, the
uneven concrete of the narrow groyne forbode disaster and the gusty wind
threatened to dump items of kit into the river at times.
We both head back upstream, passing Rich we learnt he’d had
a couple of Chub and was sitting tight for now.Kev settled into a nice looking piece of water with tall trees around
him but I kept going, passing a couple of likely looking places before dropping
my gear behind a really nice looking spot.I left the gear and kept going upstream to the end of the beat but
didn’t find anything that looked inspired me to pick up my kit again so set up
where I’d left it.
By 1220 I was settled in on a bank flat enough to prevent my
gear from sliding to a watery grave and I was able to get fairly
comfortable.Opposite me was a large tree
that I could have cast to on another day, upstream to my left was a row of
small willows that formed a line of shade with the outer branches touching the
crease.Here I dropped a feeder using
the carp rod and I intended to pretty much leave it there, recasting
infrequently.I haven’t caught many
Barbel but a good few have come from spots just like that.Downstream to my right was a dead snaggy tree
that I’d want to avoid so the Barbel rod was cast into the stream, either an
underarm to the edge of the crease or a short punch a little further out.I chucked two cricket ball lumps of
groundbait to the edge of the bushes then sat back.
The left hand rod banged once on the first drop but
otherwise I didn’t get any proper bites but for the next ninety minutes or so I
was getting fishy movements on both tips.I don’t know if these were from Chublets or maybe liners but it did tell
me there were fish in the swim and as the time passed this activity increased.At 1420 the tip of the barbel rod knocked
then fell slack and I wound down to a fish with a bit of weight but little
power and soon had a good Chub in the net.I checked the weight at 3-12 then slipped it back and got the feeder
back out there confident of more action which I had but only in the form of
plucks and rattles.
At 1600 I had a break to fill the flask and while I was
rummaging in the car I found half a bag of Source boilies which I’d forgotten
about, I stuck a handful in my pocket to maybe try as a hookbait at some
point.Kev had moved again and was now
fishing a little way below Rich in the middle of the beat.I wandered the upper end of the stretch again,
I’d pretty much discounted the far downstream end and of the swims in this
meadow none looked better than the one I was in.So I returned to my swim, lobbed two more big
balls of groundbait by the bush along with a few handfuls of pellets into the
stream and got fishing again.By now
some showers had blown in so up went the brolly but for once I was sitting
comfortably.
Within a few minutes the rod cast into the flow whacked over
but whatever it was got away with it.Out went the feeder again baited with a halibut pellet and I sat back
expectantly, it was just at the point where my mind started to wander when I
was rudely awoken by a classic three foot twitch.This not even I could miss, not least because
there fish was almost certainly hooked already and I found myself playing what
was obviously a Barbel.It fought hard
in the flow but the slack margins made netting much easier and I soon lifted it
around the fish.This was one of the
smallest of the trip but was a little beauty and after the tough day before I
was well pleased to get another Barbel.
Just like before the swim went quiet after the fish, the
rattles remained but nothing I could strike at.I was happy and it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t catch another fish but I
felt confident and kept feeding balls of groundbait and handfuls of pellets,
little and often.A text from Rich
perked me up too, he’d had a his first Barbel of the day.An hour or so passed and I remembered the
boilies in my pocket so wound in the carp rod, hair rigged one and dropped it
back beside the bush.That spot looked
so good but I hadn’t had a proper bite here yet.
That changed at just after 1800 when the tip banged and the
line fell slack.By the time I felt
weight the fish was heading towards the dead tree and I had to prevent at all
costs.Somehow I managed this and the
fish circled in front of me then powered off out into the river making the
clutch tick nicely.I pulled it back towards
me and into the slacker water but it didn’t like it here and bolted back out
again.I managed to regain the line once
more and once back in front of me I was able to keep it there, mostly.At around this point I realised I hadn’t seen
the thing yet but its identity was obvious.The fish tired and came up, yes it was a Barbel of course and by my
standards a big one!Although tired the
fish still didn’t want to go in the net but eventually it rolled onto its back
and in it went.
I left the fish in the net while I got the bits together, how
big was this thing?I weighed it at 8-11
which was less than I expected but still my biggest from this river and an
absolute beauty.A photo on the mat and
a rushed self take then I slipped it back and watched it glide away into the
stream.I got the swim reorganised, more
bait balled out and the rods back nodding on the rests then sat back with the
grin.Maybe not a big fish by today’s
standards but a good one from this river and definitely the strongest eight
pound fish I’ve ever caught.
The clouds cleared and with no more threat of showers I
packed up the brolly and enjoyed the sunlight on the valley one last time.An hour past before the boilie was taken
again and I hooked what I think was a small chub but it dropped off before I
got a glimpse, then half an hour later the right hand rod banged and I pulled
in a Chub of two pounds or so.I fished
on into darkness but that was my lot and I was well happy with it.
We met back at the cars, Rich had managed a second Barbel
and was in good form but Kev had endured a grueller, still he had two more days
to put this right which he did!With the
motor loaded we wished our friend and the coolest dog well then followed his
tail lights down to the dual carriageway.We flashed our lights goodbye then drove east through the night. Tired but still buzzing, the valley looks nothing like 'home' but the pace of life feels the same and i feel at ease. The style of fishing is unlike anything we do at home either and i want to do more of it, much more! I've subconsciously fought against it but I can't deny it any longer, my fishing world and what I want to do in it is changing.
I arrived home in the early hours and climbed into bed just
before 0200 but was still up at a decent time.I switched on this computer while the kettle boiled, wondering what had
been going on while I’d been out of the loop, I was unprepared for the news
that faced me.I couldn’t believe it but
a phone call confirmed the worst, a friend had died.Cruel irony, this was the friend that
introduced me to the great western river and helped me catch my first Barbel. We
fished together just a handful of times over the years out west for Barbel or
here in the east for Pike and we’d meet in the middle from time to time for a
punk gig and a few beers.When we last fished
together, out west a year ago, he netted for me what was at the time my PB for
the river.Great company, great times
and we assumed there’d be many more to come.As a man and as an angler they don’t come any better, the valley won’t
be quite the same anymore.Bless you
Rob, wherever you are.