In this month’s diary I have four short stories to tell, each one featuring a fishing pal and each with its own twist, tales that have unfolded in the past few weeks of my own continuing fishing adventure.
Stewart’s Story – Remember the Days of the Old School Yard.
My encounter with Stewart came after I was contacted by one of the parents at the school where Stewart is deputy headmaster. Fiona was acting on behalf of the leaving class and was looking to book a barbel fishing trip for Stewart (it was on his bucket list) as a way of saying thank you for his dedication and passion in helping the boys at the school fulfil their potential. No pressure on me then, especially as she contacted me again to say that Stewart was thrilled to bits to be presented with the gift on the last day of term!
8am in the car park adjacent to the River Kennet where I met Stewart for the first time, I knew from the off we were going to get along well. Half an hour later, and less than ten seconds after our first cast, the job was done… I’ll fill in the gaps!
Setting up in our main swim I explained to Stewart that I had already baited another spot with small pieces of luncheon meat and a pint of hemp and he would be fishing there while I shot off to the tackle shop to collect the fresh casters that I had ordered. We walked sixty yards upstream to the baited swim and set up a basic leger rig with my usual 6mm cube of meat superglued to the hair.
No more than thirty seconds after the bait was carefully lowered into the river the ‘pin screamed into life and Stewart found himself attached to his first ever barbel. I realised pretty quickly that this was a good fish but held back from saying too much as I didn’t want him to panic! In the net I knew it was a good double and Stewart was in a state of pure incredulity, he didn’t expect it to happen quite so quickly – and if I’m honest nor did I!
12lb 9oz she weighed, not bad for your first ever barbel, I immediately went to the top of the class and my status was lifted to god-like level -and I say that with a huge sense of humility!
I just said, ‘Give Fiona a call!’
I went off to pick up the casters a very contented man and on my return the day carried on in a similar vein with more barbel falling to the caster approach including a 10-10. I was extremely pleased that everything had gone so well for Stewart, a man held in such high regard and a Tottenham supporter as well.
There are times when the best laid plans all come together, this was one such time.
Paul’s Story – From small things big things one day come.
Paul had made contact at the start of the season saying he wanted more days out with me, he had well and truly caught the barbel bug in spite of the fact that our previous trips to the Wye and Kennet had not really paid off in terms of fish caught although we had certainly formed a solid bond. This time we decided to try the Severn and then have another go at the Kennet, where I assured him the barbel would play this time around.
On my favoured stretch of the lower Severn the going was tough and it took many hours but as night began to fall patience was finally rewarded when a nice barbel weighing 9lb 10oz found itself in Paul’s landing net, he was overjoyed – and that’s the key. Paul is one of those blokes who is just happy to catch a fish and a barbel of this size made his day, mine too.
We were all set for another session the following day but heavy rain proved just a bit too much and in Simon Cowell mode I called a halt saying we would do it again when conditions were better suited, but we had a couple of days on the Kennet to look forward to and I had more or less promised we would get a good result.
The exhaust on my car was playing up badly as I pulled into the car park and I knew I would have to make a trip to a local garage as it was obvious it would not survive the 150 mile drive back home. Paul arrived bright and cheery as always and day one unfolded with three barbel coming to the net along with a rather ambitious trout! Day two started with a trip to the local Kwik Fit outlet and by lunchtime my wallet was five hundred pounds lighter but I was more than thankful to Paul for running me back and forth to get the wheels fixed. Two barbel was the day’s result as we prepared for the very last cast, it was getting dark and time was fast running out.
Everything packed away, I started to transport the mountain of gear back to the car and as I arrived back at the swim to call time I could see that something had happened. Paul was flat out in the chair, the landing net was in the water and deep within its folds lay the prize, all 10lb 10oz of it! To say Paul was happy would be the understatement of the year, it had taken a few trips but we got there in the end – as I always knew we would. Perseverance always pays off, the barbel really do read the script at the right time!
Horst’s Story – Shared joys make a friend.
Horst first contacted me back in November, he told me he was a very keen barbel man, had joined the Barbel Society and was enjoying reading our book, ‘Barbel Tales’. He wanted to come over from Germany and spend a week with me learning about, and hopefully catching, a few barbel. More than a little pressure on my good self and, added to the realisation that I didn’t take German as an option at school, I began to wonder what I had let myself in for!
My concern turned out to be unfounded, Horst could speak perfect English and even with my far from perfect hearing we managed to communicate quite well! Not only that it was apparent he was a very experienced angler with a preference for the fly, choosing to spend as much time as possible with guides on many venues across the world, he was also very funny which isn’t a trait you automatically think of as being associated with a man from Frankfurt! He was also as keen on barbel as I am.
Our first two days were spent on the Kennet, the first concentrating on a caster attack, the second using the small pieces of meat – technique that I’ve covered before. We managed to land four barbel on the Monday, the best just a shade under ten pounds and a personal best for Horst and on the ‘pin as well, he was a happy man! I do apologise for the quality of the photo though, I had the wrong lens on the camera!
Tuesday proved to be more difficult, the sun was blazing down and the barbel were less inclined to feed. The only one that seemed to want to pick up the meat cube did so within ten seconds of us starting so it was a long, hard day!
Spirits were still high as we both set off the following morning for the journey to Llanthomas at Hay on Wye, arriving late afternoon to be met by our genial host, Geoff Maynard. Horst and Geoff hit it off straight away. We picked up a few chub late on Wednesday evening but it wasn’t until late Thursday that the barbel made an appearance.
After struggling for a bite all day it was just before midnight that the barbel decided to feed in earnest and at one point we had two on at once and I have to say that was highly amusing as the differences in temperament between a cool, calm London boy and an excitable German banker became very apparent! As both fish went back we sat back and laughed, we had become firm friends.
I had mentioned to Horst that I had to be home on Friday as it was my granddaughters first birthday on Saturday and there was a party in St. Albans that needed my presence. As we said our goodbyes, over a glass of wine and German sausage (what else?), after what had been a thoroughly enjoyable five days Horst handed me a parcel, a present for little Eva. He had remembered and it was a very thoughtful gesture. At the party my daughter opened the present, it was a lovely set of clothes from Horst’s homeland. I really hope we meet up again in the future. Through the power of barbel fishing in just five days I had bonded with a fellow angler from another country and do you know what? We did mention the war and the World Cup!
Jon’s Story – You never forget the first time.
Now Jon had decided to join me on one of the Wye Valley Experience holidays I run in conjunction with Peter Smith at the Caer Beris Hotel in Builth Wells. Jon was a barbel virgin but an experienced angler with other species so the mission was quite simple; we needed to ensure Jon landed a barbel.
Day one, again on Llanthomas, produced a couple of barbel but not for Jon who instead located three nice chub but day two showed just what a difference a day makes…
As I approached Jon in his swim at the bottom end of the fishery I noticed the occupants of a flotilla of canoes had decided to disembark on the gravel beach opposite and a woman was about to cast a line. I went into full blown ‘Geoff mode’ and shouted across that they should not be there and it would be best if they moved along. Now in these circumstances there a couple of choices open to the recalcitrant: stay and slug it out verbally, or do the right thing – thankfully they did the right thing, which meant as I reached Jon’s swim I was in a happier frame of mind which was just about to reach a euphoric state as he informed me his cherry had popped as a five pound barbel had just paid him a visit! And that was just the start as over the next few hours Jon landed six more including two fish which went past the magical ten pound mark – what a way to kick start your barbel fishing.
The next day we found ourselves just above Hereford at Cannon Bridge on a Wye and Usk water, a place that has produced good numbers of barbel in the past. Jon once again was into fish catching a good share of chub and barbel with the best barbel going well over nine pounds.
On the last day near Holme Lacy, well you know how it goes by now, Jon was on the fish once more mirroring his catch from the previous day. A magical three days had completely transformed Jon’s barbel fishing and he is now well and truly off and running. Hemp and pellets did the trick, nothing fancy’ it’s always about being in the right place at the right time, manage that and your confidence reaches new heights and you set off on a roll.
A funeral
As I sat on the banks of the Wye looking up at a star filled sky on a cold clear evening my phone gave that tell-tale sound telling me a message was incoming, it was from my pal Steve, and it was sad news so I called him straight away. His dad had died; Fred was ninety three years old.
The end of a life is always a time of sadness but when it’s been a long life well lived it’s also a time for reflection and remembering the good times. I was instantly taken back to 1962, sitting on the towpath at Pickett’s Lock on the Lea catching bleak, gudgeon and dace along with Steve and Fred.
Fred too was a fisherman, he caught some nice barbel from Carthagena Weir way back, like that other Fred (Crouch) he was full of mischief and time spent in his presence was always a joy. Fishing gives us so much, memories are made, and to me they are the most important factor and this past month I’ve added another volume to the bookshelf in my mind.
Until next time, enjoy your fishing.
