“We say what we like and we like what we bloomin’ well say.” It goes something like that, it may have been a tad more irreverent in its original form, I think it was that Harry Enfield character who said it, it may even have been Geoffrey Boycott – but by heck it could have been any Yorkshire man!
Don’t worry, I’m not about to start another War of the Roses, although I do sometimes wonder if history got it all wrong and it was the southern counties, well let’s say London, and not the House of Lancaster that was the other protagonist in that little tiff 500 years ago!
Let me say right here and now that I have many friends in the north, for sure there are one or two on my blocked list, but then again there are a couple of Cockney boys on that list as well, but hey that’s my life.
Now that I have your undivided attention, and before I upset everyone in God’s own land, I’m sure you must be thinking what the heck is he on about, has he gone completely bonkers? Well the relevance of my opening gambit will be revealed later on in this month’s piece, so please stick with me.
For this diary piece I want to talk about my last trip to the Severn before I left the UK shores for sunnier climes, and before the river at my favourite spot became an ocean. Over the course of four relatively short consecutive sessions I had the good fortune to land a dozen barbel, a nice chub and I experienced an interesting encounter with an unusual visitor to Worcester, who has now become something of a cause célèbre. I also decided on a change of bait and, before I mention it, I want to refer to Tony’s excellent FishingMagic feature on sponsorship a couple of months’ ago.
For the past eight years I have been fortunate enough to be sponsored by Dynamite Baits, I’ll tell you how that came about. Back in 2005 I think it was, I had arranged to meet up with Martin Bowler and Mick Rouse to do an overnight feature on the River Trent. When Martin pulled up and opened the back of his van to start unloading his gear the sight that befell my eyes was something to behold, I had never seen so much bait in someone’s vehicle, there was enough to stock a small shop!!
I jokingly asked Martin if he could spare a bag or two of pellets and he replied, “No worries mate, take a few and I’ll sort some bait out for you.” My reply was along the lines of thank you very much Martin but just a couple of bags will suffice.
A few days later and back home I received a call, it was from Dynamite, they wanted to know what bait I required as Martin had put in a word. A couple of days’ later a box of bait arrived and I was duly grateful and rang Martin to thank him. I thought no more of it until a letter arrived about a month after saying that I was now part of the team, and I have enjoyed a very happy relationship with them ever since.
My main man there is Matt Rand and it was he who had sent me a supply of the new Crave boilies to try; so as I had a few days to myself I decided to give this bait a real go. I thought it best to add that bit of information because there are often raised eyebrows when products are mentioned and there is an author connection. What I would say, and it echo’s the sentiments expressed by Tony, there is no point in being sponsored by a company who you don’t believe in; Dynamite Baits produce great bait and I use it.
As I had been previously experimenting and enjoying some success with small pieces of meat cut into pieces of no more than half an inch long and one eighth of an inch thick then glued together – in the same manner as pellets – I decided to use the boilie in the same way. Basically I cut the boilies into three sections, the outer pieces end up in the bait dropper; the centre pieces are used on the hair.
I left my daughter’s house in St. Albans early on the Wednesday and stopped off at Fred Crouch’s cottage – I’ll expand on that later – and arrived on my water at 6pm. There was a note in my storage box, it was from my pal Tony who fishes the same stretch, he had caught a thirteen plus a few days’ before so the omens were looking good. Two hours later and I had caught four nice barbel including a couple of nines. I don’t particularly enjoy fishing long hours into the dark anymore, an hour or so is enough for me these days but I did bait up with plenty of hemp in the swim I had caught from and another to act as a backup before hitting the sack.
The heavy mist took a time to clear on the Thursday morning and the fish also took some time to appear – and the reason soon became clear. I noticed a disturbance in the water towards the far bank and then a distinct fan shaped wake on the flat surface of the river, at its point I noticed a head, it was a seal!
The seconds that followed were positively surreal, the seal actually swam towards me and ended up twisting and turning right in front of me putting on a show, it was as though the creature expected me to feed it! My camera was close by but not quite close enough and as I moved away from the spot, where I was literally transfixed, the seal suddenly dived and was gone – and along with it the chance for a very memorable shot.
‘Keith’, as the seal has been named (even though it is now thought to be female), had probably been following the salmon run up river on the strong spring tides, or may have taken a wrong turn, or perhaps she thought she wouldn’t survive unless she got a little bit crazy…
Whatever, she has certainly become a local celebrity making local and national papers and local TV. I, understandably, decided that a change of swim was called for and dropped into my reserve and blow me within ten minutes I had an eleven pound barbel in the net!
The day progressed with one more barbel and a very nice chub that I decided to weigh as it looked like it would make six pounds, it was a few ounces short. I catch a reasonable number of good-sized chub from the lower Severn but on barbel gear it’s not that exciting, consequently I rarely weigh or photograph them – a bit like the bream which I know reach double figures. If I set my stall out with more appropriate gear I may enjoy it but then there’s always a chance that the monster barbel we all dream of would turn up and spoil the party, a chance I cannot afford to take! So as the last light hit the gloom on the grey I called it a day and retired to the pub.
Back in my caravan tucked up in the sleeping bag for extra warmth, it gets damn cold inside these things during the winter, I had a severe cramp attack in both legs at the same time and I thought for one moment that I was in big trouble, the excruciating pain seemed to last forever, a sign of the years advancing and probably a wakeup call to not overdo it. Luckily the pain passed and I managed a night’s sleep, cramp is pretty nasty at times.
And so I started fishing once again on the Friday morning with the overhead cloud helping to keep the air temperature reasonably mild for the time of year. Tactics wise it was more of the same: boilie on the hair, halibut and frenzied hemp groundbait in one of Fisky’s feeders and a good few droppers of hemp to keep the swim topped up.
The result?
Well two doubles came along very quickly, a 10lb 7oz and a 10lb 2oz; I really thought I was going to be in for a real red letter day. In the end it wasn’t but I certainly wasn’t going to complain; I picked up a couple of nines and an eight and once again packed up as darkness fell, more than pleased with the day’s fishing. It’s always nice to get a brace of doubles.
The rain came overnight and from what I’ve seen since it appears it hasn’t stopped, my swims have been submerged for most of the past month! Saturday morning, the muddy bank was treacherous but I decided to stick with it for a few hours, this was to be my final barbel session of the season so I had to make the most of it. I had the one chance and once again it was a nice fish, 10lb 12oz it registered on the scales, my last fish of the year.
The rain had made it downright dangerous and so calling it a day was no great hardship, especially as ‘Keith’ put in another appearance! Out in mid river as bold as brass but this time with a fish across her jaws and yet again, just like before, she was gone before I could get a picture. By all accounts she’s up in Bewdley now; I just hope she finds her way back home before I return again in June!
Now back to my visit to see Fred and explain how my intro fits into this month’s diary.
Any time spent in Fred’s company is to treasure and the few hours this time was no different, in fact it was even more so because our mutual friend, and fellow barbel catcher, Ray Kent called in as well. The three of us go way back, first meeting up in the Association of Barbel Enthusiasts, then in the Barbel Catcher’s Club and now in the Barbel Society. The ‘three amigos’ spent hours reminiscing and Ray was in particularly fine form, now well on his way to full fighting fitness after a worrying health scare.The old days in the London Region of the Barbel Catcher’s Club featured high on our list of memories as we sat in Fred’s lounge supping tea and recounting endless tales.
Ray is a proper Eastender, he spent most of his working life in the transport business with his old man working from his yard along the Bow Road, between Stratford and Mile End – that’s as Cockney as it gets! Basically you need to think Minder, especially Arthur (that would be Ray’s dad) and The Sweeney for when things got a little too hot! The stories Ray came out with would have made brilliant scripts for both shows, sadly I can’t relate them here…
Returning to the fishing, back in the early nineties there was a bit of lively rivalry between the Yorkshire and London boys, the northern lads thinking we were all flash ‘suvvern softies’ or Cockney wide boys and us thinking they were all flat caps with their whippets! The banter would carry on through the pages of the Barbus magazine and would reach a crescendo at the annual meeting held in the Midlands.
At one of our monthly regional meetings Ray innocently remarked that his dad owned a Rolls Royce and he would be able to acquire it for our trip up to Coventry for the BCC annual meeting, great idea we all agreed, that would show the Yorkshire lads! We put posters in the rear window of the roller, ‘London Region on Tour’ and there were some strange looks from fellow motorists as we headed up the M1!
When the likes of Mick Wood, Jon Wolfe and Andy Dalby saw us as we pulled into the car park their faces were an absolute picture and I believe it was Andy who said, “They think they’re flash, but don’t talk to me about sophisticayshun, I’ve been to Leeds.”
I made that last bit up but from memory the banter went on well into the small hours, and I must just add that while Andy was one of the most vociferous back in those days we’ve met a few times since and he is one heck of a character who is justly proud of his heritage, a top bloke to boot and chairman of the Chub Study Group as well!
And that’s just about it, I’m putting this together from the other side of the world where I have been since the beginning of December and will stay until spring arrives back home. I was lucky to make it after a fine old mix up in Dubai but I’m here now and enjoying the weather.
Christmas in Oz is not quite the same but New Year’s Eve is a bit special, the firework display is still the best although London puts on a brilliant show these days. After watching the display I spent the early hours with friends, one of whom is especially proficient playing the guitar and he can sing so we got some early practice in for the upcoming Boss concerts, what else can a poor old English boy do?
“Someday, I don’t know when, we’re going to get to that place,
Where we really want to go and we’ll walk in the sun….”
As it is the start of a brand new year it’s also the time for resolutions. I have just one and it is quite simple, to stay in good health and enjoy my life as much as I do now, there isn’t anything I would change, I pretty much live my dream. Also the same wish to all my family and friends, good health is everything.
Before I finish this diary I want to say how much I admire Ian for writing the piece detailing how and why he has fallen out of love with fishing, a very brave step to take. I knew Ian was going to put this out and I mentioned to him that I was toying with a piece similar in nature and so I’ll be including all my own personal thoughts on that very same subject in the February Diary.
But next time out I will be writing about the lessons I have learned from what has been a most enjoyable year, so all that’s left is to wish each and every one of you a belated but happy and, most important of all, a healthy new year.
