The past month’s fishing has epitomised for me the many vagaries this sport puts in our way with the good days and the not so good days. But, whatever happens it is always interesting, always fun and, above all, always leaves that sense of anticipation and that overwhelming feeling of excitement for the next trip. I never take for granted just how fortunate we anglers are.
Although I enjoy seeing bigger fish lying in the landing net I’m by no means an out and out specimen hunter, I like to think of myself as an ordinary guy who can get down to the waterside pretty frequently and who simply loves the sound of the ‘pin spinning, the sight of the rod top wrenching around, the power of a fighting barbel on the end of the line and the pleasure felt as she slips away into the depths on her safe return. I reckon many feel the same and can relate to the feelings I do my best to convey.
Back on the Kennet I had been joined by Simon from Hertfordshire and let me say it was blowin’ a helluva hoolie! The remnants of Hurricane Katia was still making itself felt in the Berkshire countryside and branches were creaking overhead and falling all around us, it didn’t bode well. My memory went back to the time Westy (Trefor West) was sitting out on the Wensum in THE hurricane, but then he can be a bit bonkers at times, either that or he’s made of sterner stuff than the rest of us!
The fishing was hard and it wasn’t until late in the afternoon that a barbel picked up the hair rigged casters so carefully presented over the carpet of feed. The lead up to this capture was, however, pure farce. Let me explain:
The Signals had really been making their presence felt and before the session I had asked the crayfish enforcer man to put a trap into the swim, true to his word he had done exactly that, the only problem was that he had put it right in the spot where I like to put a barbel bait! So, before Simon arrived I moved the trap a few yards upstream.
Now the crayfish trapper does a great job but he isn’t what I would call a particularly jovial character and so when he appeared from out of the undergrowth when we were fishing I was quick to explain!
Anyway, he pulled the trap back out and for a split second both Simon and I were distracted by the heaving monstrous mass inside, I looked back just as the rod tip was pulling around at an alarming rate and it certainly had nothing to do with the continuing gale or indeed the trap being pulled in. The curse of the fixed spool reel struck once again, silent movie time. (Use a Baitrunner or stick it on a buzzer Steve – Ed!!)
The culprit turned out to be a very nice barbel just shy of the magical ten pound mark, a good result in the trying conditions. However, we both agreed that it was time for the pin and after playing and landing another nine pounder I had found myself another convert – the numbers are steadily mounting up!
The wind of the day abated overnight and that was a relief because I was due to meet up with none other than Fred Bonney for two days – and Fred is a hurricane in his own right!
I first met up with Fred at a FishingMagic fish-in at Diglis Weir on the Severn, must be over five years ago. Not long after that meet he joined the Barbel Society committee and has done a great job ever since. I’ve always got plenty of time for Fred, he works tirelessly for the BS and he’s a good bloke to boot so the pressure was on me to ensure Fred had a great time.
The first day it just didn’t really happen, the barbel were conspicuous only by their absence, so for day two I decided to spend all my time with Fred hoping my undivided attention would help tip the balance.
Now whether it was that or the more likely fact that the barbel decided to feed, day two turned out fine and although we couldn’t find that elusive double a nine pound plus nicely rounded off our two day session.
I’m sure we’ll have another go at some time, I enjoyed Fred’s company and as I said he does a brilliant job for the Barbel Society.
My next visit to the river turned out to be a humbling experience, and has had quite an effect on me since.
Neil is another BS member who told me he loves reading the magazine we put out: The Barbel Fisher, edited by none other than Fred Bonney. Although a relatively new member he has managed to locate and purchase almost every copy.
Now Neil has suffered more than his fair share of ill health and getting out on to the river is no easy task for him but what hit me right between the eyes was the superb way he dealt with it all; it made me realise that those of us more fortunate with our health really do get things out of proportion at times and often get het up over what in the big scheme of things is usually nothing at all.
It was an absolute pleasure to spend a full day in the company of this charming and unassuming man and once again re-affirmed the huge buzz I get from meeting so many different people.
Now Neil is also a man who enters competitions and he wins a few prizes too. He took great delight in opening his rucksack to show me a centrepin reel he had won in a Coarse Fisherman Magazine competition; it was an Okuma Kennet and had not yet been put to use so it was a no-brainer as to what we would be doing today – christening the ‘pin!
Well, although conditions seemed to be spot on the first bite was a long time in coming but arrive it did and Neil’s rod, a Peregrine GT1, proved to be up for the job and with the perfect rod/reel combo a lovely ten pound plus fish was soon in the net. The barbel was just a couple of ounces off a personal best but it was his first double from the Kennet and a first fish on the Kennet ‘pin, so the job was a good ‘un!
Although hampered in a lot of ways there’s no complaining from Neil, he just gets on with his life, he even turns out at slip for his local cricket team in Essex and he catches a few!
I know that I’ll think twice in the future and remember Neil before moaning about anything mundane, he was a true inspiration and I hope to meet up with him again on the river Severn, our day together will live long in my memory.
As I’ve mentioned before when I’m driving down to the Kennet I usually stop off at my base outside Worcester on the banks of the Lower Severn. When I arrive there, usually early evening, I take a walk along the stretch to see if anything is happening.
I stopped at the swim where I caught the two doubles from a few weeks back just as the incumbent angler was playing a good fish. I kept very quiet and watched as he brought the barbel to the bank; he took longer than necessary because like many anglers he seemed reluctant to really put a bend into his rod. As a result the barbel appeared to be played out as it rolled into his landing net that was way too small. It was as he attempted to lift the fish that I made my presence known.
“Nice barbel mate, looks like a double, best let him rest awhile before you lift him out, he looks well beat.”
Now the next instant usually determines whether I get told to disappear in the customary manner or sense prevails and my courteous remark has the desired effect. Luckily for me this it was the latter.
I then went on to explain about the build up of lactic acid in the barbel’s muscle and likened the condition to David Walliams swimming down the Thames and then, as he climbed the bank on completion, to be asked to immediately get back in the water and start swimming again upstream! He would not be very happy.
The message seemed to get through; I helped my new friend weigh his prize, took a photo and watched with him as the barbel was returned safely to its home. He then went off to find his bigger landing net!
If you would like to know more about this biological aspect and why it is so important then it’s worth Googling Dr. Bruno Broughton, a man well known and respected by all specialist anglers and he has written in depth on the subject.
Over the past ten years or so I’ve learned that the friendly courteous approach is far more successful than going in like a bull in a china shop, inexperienced anglers tend to listen then, and you can hopefully leave a lasting impression.
Now I started by talking about hurricanes, the weather now had become what we curiously refer to as an Indian summer, over thirty degrees on the wall thermometer, and I was spending time sunbathing in the garden rather than being down by the river. Mind you I was working as well, cutting down old trees and building my deck but after a few days I was raring to get back down to the Kennet.
I also had family commitments to attend to, it’s always a good idea to do something special for your partner’s birthday, I do my level best to maintain the balance of fishing, friends and family, it’s important to me.
So with lots more brownie points in place I was looking forward to a day with James and his dad Jon who was, and is, a proper rock and roller!
These guys have the perfect set up, Jon plays lead guitar in a blues band, James is a master craftsman working on old period properties and mum is the rock chick singer with the band. To cap it all they live in Glastonbury and they like catching barbel, as I say the perfect life!
I first met Jon years ago at the NEC when the Angling Show was in its heyday. I don’t know about you but I miss those weekends, it was how we all used to keep in touch, you would see everybody and that’s how networks became established. The later incarnations just haven’t had the same appeal.
On the day in question the sun shone brightly, the sky was blue and you would be excused for not believing October was just around the corner, weird weather. We walked along the riverbank and spotted Signal Crayfish scurrying across the riverbed, a scary sight I have to say, made me wonder how any bait manages to escape these monstrous creatures. The trapper man certainly has his work cut out.
The fishing was once again difficult, the unseasonal temperature, the low water level, the affect on the oxygen levels, I really ought not to have been surprised. I was comforted by the text from Pete Reading who was fishing on the Hampshire Avon and had eleven barbel in his swim that steadfastly refused to pick up his bait, now Pete is very good so if he was struggling somehow it didn’t seem quite so bad!
As the sun disappeared behind the trees and a shadow fell over the nearside swim a lone barbel picked up the bait and, feeling the hook, tore off at speed. James expertly played the fish to the net and once again I found myself clasping hands with an excited captor of a new personal best. She tipped the scales at eleven and a half, truly rock and roll barbel fisher’s heaven.
And then after that it all went wrong, a blank on the Severn and Kennet, the car’s clutch packing up and a lift in an AA lowloader all the way back to Wales via the Severn Bridge, but I’ll save all the gory details for next time.
I’ll sign off by saying it’s time to put on the red T-shirt, get the Max Boyce records out, put the Katherine Jenkins posters on the wall and start cheering on the boyo’s in the Antipodes!
I’m no jingoist and the last time I looked Wales was part of the UK and anyway these days I live there now! (Best nobody mentions spear tackles eh Steve! Ed)
And then, as long as I’m mobile, it’s off to Bewdley to catch up with the big man Des Taylor and my old mate Lol Breakspear.
The summer sun is fading as the year grows old and darker days are drawing near…
See you soon.
