Barney’s Version in Plain Text, The truth in italics On Monday afternoon a series of emails flew back and to between Graham and myself that went like this. Graham: What’s the Ribble like at the moment, I fancy a trip on there soon? Gary: Low, clear and ‘kin freezing. Its fishing slow at the moment but there’s always a chance. Graham: I fancy a trip tomorrow, you up for it? I haven’t had the chance to smack your arse again (fishingwise of course) for a while now.
Graham: I’ll be there about 3.30. Seriously though, I’m really up for it if we have any kind of a chance. Given the really severe frosts it’s bound to be a struggle and it’s a bloody long way for me. Is it worth it do you think? Gary: Bottom line is this mate, it’s impossible to say but, I reckon it will be one of those nights where just 2 or 3 bites between us would be a result. If we get a couple of bites (and I think we will) and we hit them (which I will – dunno about you though) then the chances are it will be worth it. The stretch I have in mind is producing very few fish at the moment but when it does they are usually 5lb+.So I’d say yeah, it’s worth it, it’ll be hard but the rewards are there. The stretch I have in mind is the one I’ve been fishing regularly for weeks, that you haven’t fished at all for months, and I know every swim where the fish are being caught. Graham: Right, you’re on. See you tomorrow. Tuesday Morning Mails Gary : Graham, are you still up for it. Minus 5 last night – I’m okay but it’s a bit cold for an old codger! Graham: Bollox, you cheeky git….pint for the biggest fish! And so the scene was set, I arrived as planned at 5.30 and it was already dark. Graham’s in the swim I pointed out to him previously and in the much superior downstream swim as well. I asked him which side of him I should set up. He said anywhere – as long as it wasn’t downstream. Oh, right…that narrows it down a bit. Graham told me to fish anywhere I liked, right at the side of him if I fancied a few proper lessons. Fish are rolling and I’m acutely aware that the first hour of darkness (and I’ve already missed half of it) is peak time and I’m rushing to get set up. “Eerr, could you do me a favour mate?” He says. Here we go, I thought! “What?” “Well, I’ve forgot my weigh sling.” “And?” “Well my scales are wrapped up in it” “Yes, well?” “Err, I’ve got a fish in the landing net, caught it about ten minutes ago. It’s not a bad ‘un. Probably over five, can you weigh it for me?”
“Worth coming just for that one.” he says with a big, smug grin. “Would you like to fish here to give yourself a better chance? I’ve fed it for you.” “That one will be all we get if I don’t get a bait out quick.” I say, hurrying back to my discarded tackle. “Err, just a minute mate, can you take me a couple of photo’s?” “No problem mate.” through clenched teeth. “Well, f****** hurry up then, I want to get cast in! Have you brought me the bait you promised me?” Despite the fact that I was all rigged up and my bait had been pre-prepared it was half an hour after my arrival when I finally cast in. The noise of the cage feeder hitting the surface coinciding with the chub’s surface activity ceasing – great, peak time gone now, but yer mans quite happy with a proper fish already under his belt. It had been very quiet until then, but as my luck would have it, they started to crash at the surface just then. Most of my gear is balanced on the icy 45 degree slope, this being the only place available as Graham has positioned himself bang, smack in the centre of the two swims and I’m forced to sit in this precarious position. “you quite comfortable there?” I shout across. “I only got down here because the bank’s level.” He says. “I needed to get all my gear as well as my chair, table and rucksack on level ground, there’s even room for me to erect my evo if the wind gets up.” he proclaims……… Self, self, self. Graham said, “I got here even though it’s most uncomfortable, so as to leave enough room for you in that nice flat spot, yer f****** mard-arse! I mutter something about it being the only thing he CAN get erect at his age and stare at the twin green isotopes positioned on the end and 12″ down from my quiver tip. “Oooooo, isn’t it slippery, my goodness, I’ll have to be careful, don’t want to break a nail.” I mutter. It’s cold now, not a bit parky, but bloody cold. The thermometer tells me the air temperature (out of the wind) is again down to minus 5 degrees. There is 6ft of ice in the margins and landing a fish could be tricky. The advantage of twin isotopes was brought home when the tip moved no more than quarter of an inch before ‘pinging’ back into position. The  When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission, which supports our community.
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