I have been fishing the River Dove for more than 10 years and must have travelled thousands of miles from my home in Ellesmere Port as the distance is approximately a 160 mile round trip. A lot of travelling but very well worth it.

In the 10 years I have been on the Dove I have caught my fair share of barbel, but it was only in the summer of 2000 that, along with my nephew and brother in law, I decided to concentrate solely on trying to capture one of its double figure residents.


Dave’s Dove double delight
It was around this time that I was told of the FISHINGmagic website. And what a find it turned out to be. The help and advice from its members have certainly made what was a very hard task a lot easier. I thank everyone of you who have helped me in the past with any queries I have had.

I had a plan

I arrived at the river around 3.30am on Sunday, August 15th, with a set plan in my head based on mistakes made on previous trips.

  1. I would fish for at least one hour without feeding the swim. If I got any signs of fish in the swim, bites or fish, this hour would be extended.
  2. My initial feeding would be via a baitdropper. Roughly 10 casts with pellets and tiny balls of paste.
  3. I would leave the swim alone for at least one hour while I had breakfast, etc.
  4. I would then top up the swim using a catapult for the pellets and throwing small balls of paste into the swim by hand.
  5. If I ever needed to go to the loo or have a flask of tea or something to eat I would religiously remove the baited hook from the water.
  6. I would touch-leger all through the session. The rod would not leave my hand for the duration of the trip.
  7. 48 hours was the maximum amount of time I could stay on the river due too work commitments.
  8. Worm, paste and boilie were the only baits I would use.
And so my session began in earnest around 4.15am. I stuck to my plan to the letter and by 9pm that evening I had not had so much as a liner. The river looked dead and had done all day, and even then, at around 9pm, just as the sun was falling behind the trees in the distance, the river still seemed lifeless. But as we all know this is supposed to be the best time of the day so my enthusiasm was raised as the witching hour approached.

Delight turned to despair

I rebaited, cast out and waited. And waited. Then I waited some more. Nothing. Was my bait still on? Was I doing something wrong? All those thoughts we all have were racing through my brain. A sudden drop in temperature sent shivers down my spine and bought on one of those sudden must wee now or have an accident feeling. So without thinking I put the rod down and went to the nearest bush. I must put my fleece on before I sit back down, I thought.

I had now answered the call of nature and just as my head popped out of the top of my fleece I could see my reel back-winding frantically. I ran back to my rod not 15 yards away and lifted into the fish. Yes, that tell-tale thump, thump of a barbel!

But all too quickly my delight turned into despair as the feel of grating sent a sickening feeling deep inside me. Everything went solid and despite trying all sorts of angles to get the fish out I knew it was pointless as the fish was well dug into the snag. A couple of moments later the whole rig, hook as well, freed itself from the snag and I was left to peruse what a total idiot I had been.

All day I had retrieved my tackle if I needed to get up and the one time I didn’t I was made to pay dearly. It took me what seemed like hours to get myself back together again and resume fishing, but by 10.15pm I was now well wrapped up and suitably refreshed with tea and sausage roll. Oh yes, and I nearly bust a gut trying to make myself water the local tree. So with a new hooklength on and all my knots and reel line double checked and checked again I was back in the water.

Come on baby!

Nothing happened for ages and I can remember looking at my watch – 11.15pm. That hour flew past, I thought. I then felt my first real indication of what was surely a bite. A definite pull on the loop of line between my left thumb and forefinger. I can still recall saying out loud “Come on Baby! Come on!” Then bang! The line was ripped from my hand and I struck and everything went solid for a split second. Then nod, nod on the rod. “Yes, I’ve got one!” And as I was congratulating myself in my mind all hell broke loose. The fish went absolutely mad. And the worst thing was I did not actually know whereabouts in the river it was, due to the total darkness.

I could generally tell in which direction it was going and low side-strain in the opposite direction seemed to be having the desired effect. Slowly but surely I was gaining ground on my unseen quarry. Then right under my feet the fish surfaced, and I could not believe the size of it. This had to be a double, surely to god.

The fish lay on the surface and as I went for my landing net it made a vain attempt to get back to the middle of the river, but the old Raptor T6 size 8, and the Riverge hooklink held firm and the beauty was mine. The rest of the proceedings are a blur to be honest, but I can tell you the fish measured 311/2 inches long. Its girth was 161/2 inches. And it weighed 10lb 7oz.

Best thing since the kids were born

I can honestly say that experience was the best thing that has happened to me since the kids were born. I have got a tear in my eye now writing this and goose bumps on my arms.

So there you have it ladies and gents, my first double-figure River Dove barbel. Let me take this opportunity again of thanking everyone who has helped me in my quest, be it via emails or phone calls or a chat in the pub. Thanks guys, I owe you a great deal. If there is anyone reading this and need help off humble old me please feel free too email. I cannot identify the actual peg for obvious reasons but if I can help in anything else I am only an email away.

Tight lines

Dave

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