| My van chugged into the industrial estate and threaded its way through a maze of narrow courtyards when a security light suddenly startled me. The heat from the exhaust must have set it off. As I backed the van up to the low fence that separated the industrial estate from the canal basin, a dim light emerged from the nearest narrow boat as the cover was thrown back. Russ vaulted the fence and came to greet me. “Wotcha Mate,” he beamed. “How’s Cath?” We exchanged news and pleasantries for a few minutes and then began unloading the tackle (and the bottles of wine that I had brought from London before setting off on my late night journey!). Inside the narrow boat the wine was opened and my tackle stowed away. “Here’s the rod Alan is selling,” I said. “He’s throwing in a load of weights, floats and odds and sods free as well.”
Russ and I had been fishing together quite a few times over the previous year and he finally had to admit that he was hooked and now wanted his own gear. I’d recently visited another friend who was selling a load of gear and selected a suitable rod for barbel. The next day I went off to the river Teme for the serious business of pursuing barbel, whilst Russ idled his time away as a chef in a local hotel. The line sung and then a barbel was hooked I fished until an hour before sunset, although I knew that if I stayed later I would certainly improve on the day’s catch of a solitary 5lb barbel. To tell the truth, the drive and the late night boozing had taken its toll and I was knackered! The capture of the barbel though had been interesting as I’d heard the bite, but I was not using an alarm! The line had been ‘singing’ with the pressure of the flow of the water and suddenly I noticed that the note had changed. The next instant the rod tip went right around and I pulled into the barbel. Knocked up when the chef wasn’t looking After returning to the boat and dozing for a few hours, Russ and I met up in the local pub (now there’s a surprise!) after he’d finished work. After downing a good measure of his first pint, Russ smiled and brought out a tinfoil-wrapped parcel from the depths of his coat pocket. “Here mate,” he said, “smell this!” The parcel’s contents turned out to be an evil smelling concoction of various cheeses bound together by honey. “I reckon that this should do the biz tomorrow,” he said, ” I knocked this up on the quiet when the Head Chef wasn’t looking!” After a good meal in the local Indian Restaurant, we staggered back to the boatyard. Russ was eager to try out his new rod and started tackling up as soon as we climbed aboard the narrow boat. A few minutes later he was perched on the roof casting his float to likely looking spots.+ After a short while Russ was rewarded by a strange looking carp of a couple of pounds. It may have been a ‘wildie’ or perhaps some sort of crossbreed. I got caught up with the spirit of the occasion and started setting up a 15ft float rod and centrepin reel. Unfortunately, after a few minutes, I cried out, “Russ! Come and help me mate, I can’t see to thread the line through the rings!” Swarming with small chub Russ mocked my allegedly advancing years and failing eyesight (although I might add that I am only five years older than he is and that Russ has admitted that his own eyesight isn’t what it was!). I retorted with rude comments about the pathetically dim 12-volt lighting aboard the boat. Fully tackled up, I broke the rod down into sections so that I could get it though the cabin and climb onto the roof. I began trying to familiarise myself again with using a ‘pin, but I must admit to using the loop method of casting, my attempts at the Wallis cast have only resulted in monumental tangles!
The next day on the Teme The following day we arrived at the Teme and set about baiting up two swims with hemp, sweetcorn, casters and some small cubes of flavoured meat, using a large bait dropper to ensure that the bait was accurately placed. After a half-hour my rod tip wrapped right around and I pulled into a barbel of around six pounds. After I had caught two more, Russ shouted, “I’ve got one!” “About time too!” I chuckled. I eased off the clutch on my reel by flicking the Fightin’ Drag over to minimum. I didn’t want to risk my rod being dragged in – I’d once suffered this mortifying experience on the Kennet and was anxious not to repeat it. On that occasion I had been lucky to get my gear back and to also land a short, plump and somewhat puzzled 8lb barbel. I went over to talk Russ through playing the fish and to net it for him. Although Russ had landed a few barbel he appreciated the assistance, however I was pretty sure that he could have played the barbel without my help. It wasn’t really help that he needed, it was a little more confidence and experience. Before long the barbel was in the net and Russ was somewhat pleased to note that it was bigger than my previous three fish! A very short time later, Russ was into another barbel and this was played with no advice from me at all, although I did net it. The reel screamed as barbel kited off It was Russ’s turn to get a bite again, but before I had walked more than two paces toward him with the landing net, my reel screamed as a barbel kited off downstream. With only the one landing net between us and with Russ never having netted his own fish before it wasn’t an ideal situation. I returned the Fightin’ Drag to the upright position and pulled into my fish and gradually worked my way over toward Russ’s swim. I kept my fish ‘on hold’ by playing it very gently so as not to overtire it and then threw Russ the net. I watched Russ play and net a barbel out of the corner of my eye. Russ called over, “I think that this is my best barbel yet!” “Have you got the scales handy?” He added. I told Russ where to find the scales and the carpsack I use as a weigh sling. After slipping his barbel into the carpsack, Russ came over and passed me the landing net. With my own fish recovering in the landing net, I went and weighed Russ’s barbel. At a fraction over 81/2 lb it was no record, but it was great to see the smile on Russ’s face! I could see that he was hooked for life on fishing! Men Behaving Badly We packed up shortly after sunset, the final score being six barbel to me and five to Russ. There was a fair bit of good-natured leg-pulling about quality versus quantity as we trudged back to the van! Since that weekend a couple of years ago, Russ and I have enjoyed many more barbel, boating and boozing weekends together – it’s a bit like ‘Men Behaving Badly’ set on a narrow boat! A lot of people find it very hard to understand Russ’s and my friendship and think that by rights we should be bitter enemies. You see Russ is still legally married to my partner Cathy! I would add however, that Russ and Cathy had been separated for several years before Cathy and I met. Fishing has played a significant part in cementing Russ’s and my friendship. Whilst fishing is not the only reason that we are friends. If it hadn’t have been for fishing I wouldn’t travel to Worcestershire so frequently and therefore wouldn’t meet up with Russ so often. I’ll leave the last word to a friend of Russ’s, another narrow boat owner, John. The year before last, Russ, Cathy and myself went on a week’s cruise down the Gloucester and Sharpness Canal, and John and his wife accompanied us in their boat. At the end of the holiday, John said to me, “You know Steve, when Russ told me that his wife and her boyfriend were coming along I thought bloody hell! Some sodding holiday this is going to be! But, we’ve had a brilliant time and it’s great to see how you three get on together!” PS: Since penning the above Cathy has finally completed her divorce from Russ and we’re getting hitched on the 1st of June! Russ is making the wedding cake! |
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