It wasn’t an afternoon for the squeamish with two of the best (worst?) p***-takers in the business fishing together. There was me and Barney Ribble – Gary Knowles to those who don’t know him, FISHINGmagic and Angling Times columnist. Also known as the Warrington Wit and the Warrington Wind-up Wizard – heading for, of all places, the Ribble.
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We met in the pub (where else) where he forced me to accept a drink off him so he can tell everybody what a tight git I am and remind everybody that my nickname is McWallet. I accepted reluctantly, and quaffed the creamy bitter down quickly just in case he wanted to force another one on me. This was followed by a roast beef lunch which I offered to pay for but was declined as part of his plan to humiliate me. Over lunch we hatched plans to catch the chub. Little did he know that I was planning to catch a barbel on bread. On the way to the river I took a wrong turning I was concentrating so hard on my tactics.
Barney already had a swim in mind, one that his mate Steve Plant, affectionately known by Barney as the Gay Emblem, had fished a couple of days ago and caught several chub over 4lb with a best fish of just 5lb. So I let Barney lead me to the area, pause by a swim and then try and con me into fishing somewhere else.
“These two here look okay,” he said. “But Gay fished about 60yds upstream.”
Oh yeah! With 50 years experience of people trying to con me out of good pegs I think I recognise better ones than Barney’s effort.
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With a sick look on his face he dropped into the next swim. Later that night he said to me, “Just had a phone call off Gay, I made a mistake, where you’re fishing is where he fished the other night.”
Wow, that was a surprise.
We both fished with cage feeders, feeding mashed bread, with flake or cheese paste on the hook. I was using Barney’s cheese paste for a while till he let it slip that he’d put Camay soap into my portion. I also had to borrow some slices of bread because my wife had got me my loaf and it was totally the wrong sort for good hookbait. Barney had a full loaf and when I asked him for a couple of slices he actually gave me three.
He also gave me some hooklength to try. “Try this Carptek line from MAP,” he said, “marvellous stuff, all the matchmen swear by it. At 5lb 14oz it’s just right for big chub.” Nice one, I thought, it did look and feel like a good line, lovely and smooth with just the right amount of stretch to cushion the strike a little. A good strength to go with my 6lb main line.
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I persevered for a while but changed my mind when Barney caught his first fish from the other side of the river, a lovely chub of 5lb 1oz. So I cast all the way over, and as luck would have it, got snagged and had to pull for a break. The bloody line parted right at the reel!
“What breaking strain was that hooklength you gave me?” I asked.
“Er, 6lb 14oz.”
“You said it 5lb 14oz.”
“No I didn’t, you must have heard me wrong.”
I was using a reel with a shallow spool and now I didn’t have enough line left on it to reach the far side. So I took the 6lb line off and wound some 8lb line on and attached the 6lb to it. First cast back to the far bank and my plan began to take shape – I had a decent bite on the big lump of flake on the 6 hook. Next cast I hooked into a fish that, had it been a chub, would have been a real biggie. But it was a barbel. Ten minutes later, with Barney taking the p*** and doing his best to make me lose it, he netted a 7lb 7oz barbel for me. To stop him knocking it off with the landing net I shot the barbel straight into the net and took it off him before he had chance.
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On the walk back to the car he lost his way, making me walk an extra 100yds.
No doubt he’ll be writing his own cock-eyed version of events before too long. Watch out for it, but for god’s sake don’t take any notice of what he tells you.
