Plus the rain, it just hasn’t stopped falling, the banksides are waterlogged and the rivers are overflowing. The only certainty about our weather these days is its uncertainty; strange days indeed.
This month signals the end of my guiding season, the few hours of daylight and the vagaries of our climate make it just too hit and miss plus, and this really is important, the whole point of fishing is to enjoy yourself and with each passing year creature comforts feature much higher up the chart when it comes to my own personal priorities – basically I’m getting old!
Mark from Liverpool turned out to be my final guest, I think he took that position last year as well, and the aim was to try and get him his first double. Mark runs a successful business based in the ‘pool, something to do with nice cars, and no he doesn’t have to keep shelling out for new wheels… being a Londoner I did have to ask!
Moving on quickly before I upset my mates from Merseyside, Mark asked me if he could bring along a pal who was visiting him, well his gardener in actual fact. I said that would be fine, Mark said the guy was Spanish and absolutely loves his fishing but had no idea at all what a barbel was. I was looking forward with perhaps just a little trepidation to what was likely to be an entertaining day, throw in a bit of friendly competition and in football parlance we’re looking at Liverpool versus the Galacticos.
As it transpired Pasqual, Mark’s gardener, reminded me of a cross between the waiter from Fawlty Towers, Manuel, and Rafa Nadal. I say that in a complimentary way, Pasqual was hugely keen, laughed whenever Mark slipped into Basil mode, and was seriously hyper; to be honest he was so animated he made Jose Mourinho look positively static!
As we were fishing on the Severn I set them both up with my standard approach, which I’ve detailed here before. Pellets on the hair and a groundbait/pellet mix in the feeder, all placed over a well-spread bed of hemp. Mark was in what I considered to be the going swim and Pasqual was close by in a spot that I hoped would produce, but I was not entirely certain. The hours rolled by and the bank which, because of the amount of rainfall, already resembled a mudslide was becoming even more treacherous and I could see Pasqual taking a dip as he was wearing the most inappropriate trainers! I had my work cut out making sure both of them were safe and fishing well.
While breaking from the constant fishing talk I took the opportunity to chat to Mark about his love of horse racing – he was in a particularly good mood as his horse had just come up trumps – and about his place in Spain where Pasqual took care of the gardens – as I said Mark is a successful businessman.
While I sat with Mark I managed the odd ‘si’, ‘que’ and ‘gracias’ with Pasqual!
All of a sudden the relative calm was rudely interrupted; Pasqual was yelling in a language neither Mark nor I understood but we both recognised the fact that he was in and we looked across to see him holding on for dear life as the first barbel of the day led him a merry dance. The sheer speed and power of the fish totally surprised our Spanish friend but he quickly regained a degree of control and before too long his first ever barbel was sliding across the landing net.
I promise you I have never seen anyone quite so excited about catching a fish, he was punching the air, jumping up and down and performing some sort of Spanish victor’s dance, it would have made Bruno ecstatic on Strictly! One nil to Real and it didn’t take that long before the second was landed and we all went through a repeat Pasqual performance, both fish were around the six pound mark so although we now had a two – nil situation, all was not lost for Mark if he could just land that elusive double.
At long last Mark’s rod pulled around and he was in, I managed to extend the net and get a safe foothold as the fish came to the surface, a nice barbel that was easily seven pounds. Two – one but time was running out.
With the rush hour Worcester traffic starting to queue on the nearby bridge as the light was starting to fade Pasqual gave out his familiar yell and I was there in a flash to help him guide what was obviously the biggest fish so far to the waiting net. When I eventually lifted it clear of the water I knew that it was a double but, not wanting to hurt Mark’s feelings, and fearing that, at best, Pasqual was about to lose his job and at worst get an early bath I just said “It’s around nine!”
To be fair when the scales registered 10lb 7oz Mark took it on the chin, a three one defeat, the ‘pool would never live it down, I would have loved to have been in their car on the drive back to Merseyside!
An hour later sitting at my table in the pub enjoying roast turkey I was contemplating the great fun I had just shared with two nice people and I’m sure I’ll be seeing Mark again next year, we have unfinished business. Somehow I don’t think he’ll be bringing Pasqual along with him though!
This is an opportune moment for me to thank everyone who has been out with me this year, I’ve enjoyed every minute – even on the days when the rain just kept on falling.
I managed to get myself back home to my cottage on the Welsh border for what seemed like the first time in a long time. The car needed a set of tyres – I’ve covered some miles this summer! – and the MOT was due. The week’s break also allowed me to tidy up my studio and banish a couple of furry visitors who had taken residence while I’d been away. Then it was back on the road for a trip back to Essex, my old home ground. I have to say I felt no real connection; I’ve been away more than five years now and home is where the heart is, or in my case this summer wherever I lay my hat.
I did manage to see my old mate Fred Crouch once again though, anytime spent in Fred’s company is an absolute joy and we spent a good few hours putting the world to rights and reminiscing on fishing days gone by. Fred gave me the trophy he made that I first held twenty years ago and it’s now in my safekeeping until, together with the Barbel Society guys, I can come up with a suitable annual achievement that will be worthy of Fred’s handiwork. I made a point of saying that I would be back again before setting off to the other side of the world.
Next up on the fishing front was our ‘Gentlemens’ Day’ on the Kennet. This is the rather grand title we give to the annual get together of all the guys who fish in the syndicate. To a man we all agree how much Fred is missed on this day as his humour and practical joking was the stuff of legend.
As always the fishing was tough, to be honest it’s always secondary as we spend the best part of the day chatting and having a laugh, I doubt I fished seriously for more than a couple of hours. In fact the fishing was so slow that I nodded off completely at one point and didn’t even hear the reel spin when one wag decided to pull the line! The evening in the pub is what it’s really all about and the banter flowed as always. A great bunch of blokes who have this fishing business in perspective, my only moan is that these days seem to be coming around sooner than ever, the time really is flying by. Along with good pal Rich I headed off to the local B and B and then it was back to the Severn the following day which resulted in an unceremonious blank for the pair of us!
In fact I suffered a couple of blanks during the month, it’s not always easy, but I also managed to land a number of nine pounders, wonderful fighting fit fish whose only ‘shortcoming’ was in the weight department. I say that because we all want those scales to read over ten pounds, but it really is just a measure of weight, these fish all coming up a few ounces short fought as long and as hard as any double and I was truly pleased and satisfied with every capture.
Next up in my diary was a two day stint at the Kent Angling Show, I had volunteered to man the Barbel Society stand, and I must have forgotten that I no longer lived just the other side of the river! Anyway the drive was not too bad from the Welsh border to the Kent showground, in fact I arrived so early I fell asleep in the car outside the main gate until I was rudely interrupted by a heavy bang on the roof from the security man!
I used to really enjoy the big fishing shows that were held at the NEC, they were the place where everyone had a chance to meet up, names were put to faces and friendships became established, it’s a shame they are no longer a calendar fixture. Nevertheless the Kent show was an opportunity to meet up with some faces from the past and to get to know some faces for the future, namely Alex and Carl who have a regular feature in Angler’s Mail.
It is really good to see youngsters like this pair having a real go; they are a credit to fishing and to themselves. The sport needs kids like these so that there is a real connection with their generation. These lads produce top class fishing films that you can find on YouTube and I have to say it was a real pleasure being able to meet them and pass on some sound advice as someone from the older generation.
I’m pleased to report that they have joined the Barbel Society and I really hope they can make an impact with us and encourage more of their age group to not only get out there fishing but to get involved as well. I also bumped into Paul Garner and picked up his fabulous new book and met up with pals on the Peg One and Free Spirit stands. Altogether it was a very enjoyable weekend, my next show outing will be at the Barbel Societies own big event on 09 June.
Next time out I’ll tell you how those nine pound barbel suddenly increased in weight as the doubles came thick and fast from the Lower Severn and the slightly different bait approach I employed to get the results, I’ll also let you know about the rather unusual visitor that paid me a visit while I was fishing.
As I’ll be in Australia I’ll expand on what should be coming up on the fishing front Aussie style and share my Christmas and New Year from down under.
See you soon.
