The flood water cracker...
Passion for Barbel. 16/07/2021. Barbel After The Storm
On Monday, 12th July, the skies in the South East opened, and a monsoon-like rain fell all over London and the surrounding area. Flooding was reported, including serious damage to the house of Queen member, Brian May.
Far less problematic, my plans for a barbel from a small Thames tributary looked shot. I’d seen the stream on Monday at 4.00pm and it looked tiny, running clear. Tuesday morning and it was five feet up, the colour of oxtail soup. The deluge had done its worst.
Yet, twenty four hours after, on Wednesday morning, this amazing barbel was landed, fat as butter, weighing 11 pounds, or even a tad more. It was an extraordinary capture in my experience, for reasons perhaps worth looking at.
First, the serious stuff. On my visit on the Tuesday, the stench from the river was gross. My host showed me where sewage overspills regularly take place, and where this one had vomited unspeakable refuse into the river. We hear about the way that our rivers are treated on a daily basis, but seeing it firsthand remains a shock, a wake-up call. You could say, the capture of a notable barbel suggests these spills are not damaging. I’d reply, the complete absence of weed, the lack of small fish, and the slime coating the river bed tell a different story.
On to the fishing, there is a moment when a river settles after a flood that can be dynamic. That tipping point had been reached on Wednesday, about 42 hours after the rain had fallen, and some 37 hours after the river had risen. Experienced barbel anglers recognise when the window is at its widest. The colour is less putrid. The flow has eased, the level is visibly dropping, and the barbel, you know, are on the prowl! (and in this case, the smell of sewage has receded).
We all know a smelly bait works in a flood, but sometimes we don’t realise how large a bait can be. In this case, the barbel in question took two golf ball-sized pieces of Spam threaded up the line from a size 6 hook. There are occasions when four or even five pieces have produced fish. How the barbel suck in half a can of meat I do not know, but the fact is that they can. I’m not a great fan of bait droppers as a rule, but in this case, an old, rusted example had undoubtedly worked its magic and got the prebait down to the bed in flood conditions.
Prebaiting? Of course, you cannot beat this. I was fortunate in being able to introduce the equivalent of two Spam cans of meat over a forty eight hour period. And that was into a small, tight swim where I was told a handful of barbel were to be found. The bait dropper had undoubtedly delivered that meat into the very parlour of those barbel, and prepared the way for the eventual fishing session.
The bite came in almost exactly twenty minutes. Once again, the first cast on smaller rivers had proved to be the killer cast. Any further casts would have simply increased commotion and decreased chances – hence my complete abhorrence of two rods, in tight situations especially.
And, of course, respect for the fish. What a life in a small stream, constantly threatened by devastating pollution. What a battle in that snag-infested swim? And the ivory colour all fish so quickly adopt in flood conditions. Will I ever forget the sight of that colossal, spookily pale fish eventually breaking surface in my tiny river?
Never. The power and the passion of the barbel indeed!
