New Beginnings, Pt 2
Having recalled the wonderful summer I spent catching barbel on the Teme, and the Wye, it was always inevitable that I would have to relate the tales of a very wet autumn, and interminably long winter.
As I sit typing, there is yet another frost on the ground. Although winter hasn’t produced much in the way of snow in the west of the country, it has certainly brought with it more than our fair share of freezing nights and dipping temperatures. Despite all this poor weather, I have remained a slave to the great god Barbus barbus, and have spent as much time on the banks, in the faint hope that I will catch a few….
My autumn campaign had started in good order with the capture of some barbel from a difficult swim, as described in the first instalment. These fish provided me with a certain amount of confidence a quality that I would need for the months to come. The Wye was beginning its annual metamorphosis, one that I have never witnessed before. The first heavy rainfall of the autumn came one Sunday afternoon, whilst fishing a swim just before a set of rapids, which lead in turn, to deeper water. There were still a few canoeists about, and as ever, they always seemed magnetically attracted to my lines. As the rain began in earnest, I noticed that my upstream rod, which I believed was enabling me to drop a bait in a hole on the far bank, was moving quite a lot. It was then that I noticed the ducks feeding merrily on the bait around my hookbait, and realised that the hole, if it existed, wasn’t in the same place I believed it to be, and that I was fishing in about a foot of water!
That day saw the river rise visibly and start colouring up. A strange sight to someone not used to it, and that someone was me. Although these conditions were as good as they get, I failed to capitalise on them, and blanked.
Ray introduced me to the delights of the deeper water now that conditions favoured it. This area is a particular favourite of his, and an area that produced some good fish in the past. Once again, I found myself on new ground, quite literally, and initially found it difficult fishing from the top of a very high bank, into very deep water. New techniques had be learnt, and a new understanding of how barbel behave in heavy flood conditions was also on the cards.
We also decided to begin using a bait, that we were sure that had not been used on this stretch before. Although Ray favours more traditional baits, both he and Steve wanted to experiment a little. So we settled on a fairly new boilie mix, and begun introducing it every now and then. Unlike the other two, I decided to fish with the new bait straight away, whilst also using particles and meat baits too.
The first barbel I caught on the new bait were the three fish from the rock swim. This showed me that the bait was certainly recognised by the fish as food, which is always a good start! I continued from thereon to put bait into likely looking spots, including areas, which aren’t fishable due to dense undergrowth, trees, boulders etc. All these are areas that are perfect to hold fish, and would give them the opportunity to discover the delights of the boilies, without being caught. Thereby, creating a situation where the barbel recognise the bait as a food source, and if they happen across more of the same in a different area, they will take the bait without concern.
So that was the theory, but would it work? Time will tell, and so far results have been encouraging. Most of us have caught on the bait, that has been established, and we have also continued to catch barbel on all other types of baits. I didn’t expect to break any records, but am happy so far, and continue to learn lessons along the way.
Back to the fishing then, and a very moody river. Most of October and November found the river in high flood. The extra water was a welcome relief after experiencing record low water levels throughout the summer. The fishing had become hard, but was destined to become harder still. I found the river would rise very rapidly overnight, and could soon resemble a bubbling cauldron in places. I’ve fished flooded rivers before, but found them difficult to cope with. Probably because they were usually small intimate rivers, which easily burst there banks overnight without much effort. The Wye, on the other hand can handle huge amounts of water, and remain within its banks, and be easily fishable. It’s a bit of a psychological barrier, but once I got used to the sheer size and power of the extra water, I managed to work out the problems associated with it. Now I even enjoy it, and positively welcome the extra water.
With the river going up and down like the clappers, it became a very hit and miss affair to catch barbel, but it didn’t stop the intrepid trio giving it their best. After many blanks, and a few chub, Steve finally hit the big time in early November, catching a new best barbel of 10lb 2ozs, and ending a period of depression for all of us. By now, we had become good friends, and I was enjoying being a part of a good crowd. The laughter on some days was recorded on the Richter scale, and there was much fun to be had. This culminated in a soaking that I received after trying to climb down a very precarious bank, following heavy rain the night before. I lost my footing and ended up slipping chest deep into the river. Not a good move considering the clothing I happened to be wearing. Still another lesson learnt, and I still mourn the loss of Rays spade, which was lost at sea with all hands..I still refuse to react when I’m called flipper though.
November brought with it some cold weather, and it kept on raining. On at least two occasions, I watched the river rise a couple of feet in a few hours. Still we kept fishing, and I managed to lose a couple of barbel over the next few sessions. Ray caught a 9lb 12oz barbel that we all thought was a double. Ray was gutted, but only because he was getting so close to his first double after thirty years of barbel fishing. A few days later, and with the river starting to drop off, I headed off praying for a barbel to lift my spirits. Not long after Ray arrived, I was into a barbel, which Ray netted. A lovely fish which went 7lbs on the scales, and I’d broke my November duck at last. The sun shines on the righteous though, as Ray hooked into a big fish during the afternoon. Initially, I thought it might have been a carp, as I saw this huge back come to the surface during the fight, but on netting it, I knew I was looking at a double figure barbel. It went 10lb 1oz, and Ray was over the moon. I was dead chuffed for him, and slightly jealous, but he certainly deserved that fish, if only for all the help, he has given both Steve and me during the season.
Well December came and went, and very few barbels were caught from the stretch. Conditions were far from perfect, and the river was very unsettled. Due to going back to work, my time became limited, and the few trips to the Wye, were blanks. I wrote the month off, and looked forward to January, and prayed for an increase in the arctic temperatures….
A New Year, and with it came Chris Ponsford. Obviously, Santa had decided to send the midland angler of 2002, on a visit to the Wye winter wonderland to cheer the boys up. Much fun was had that day, and I managed to lose a barbel in front of the maestro. Steve landed a barbel, which was completely jammy, and Chris managed to lose a fish around at least three trees and a bush. Ray was on walkabout and didn’t catch either. It was a good day though, despite a rapidly rising river, and the pouring rain, and I left to the sounds of "there’s klingon’s on the starboard bow" reverberating through the trees!
With the New Year came a move to a different part of the river, and this rewarded both Ray and me with some chub, and Steve managed a barbel, from a very tasty looking swim. A few days later, with water temperatures on the increase, I returned and winkled out two barbel, to about 6lbs. Very pleased was I, and Ray took a nice photo of me with barbel, both covered in mud. Once again the temperatures dipped, and stayed fairly much the same for the whole of February. I tried another new swim, and managed a couple chub, which seem to have taken a liking to the new bait also.
Ray was staying close to home, and had been fishing the Taff, which proved to be warmer on average compared to the Wye. He had a real red-letter day, in mid February, and landed two barbel in a sitting. Both fish turned out to be new bests for him, weighing in at 10lbs 9ozs, and 12lb 1oz. The worm has certainly turned for the ageing Swansea slapper….
Back on the Wye, and I thought I’d found a swim that just had to produce a few fish. With Fallen trees, both up and downstream, the swim had a crease and snags. This lended itself to be fished with a bait away from both snags, in hope of intercepting any barbel moving between the snaggy areas. With the water getting lower and clearer very day, I decided to start using hemp again, with a few other seeds, and some corn as an attractor, to draw the fish away from the snags. A few droppers of bait prior to fishing, and a few more, throughout the session when it was slow, was the order of the day.
Sounds like a good plan, but the fish decided otherwise, and didn’t want to know, assuming they were there in the first place! Out of four sessions all I managed were a couple of chub, and one definite barbel indication, that I promptly missed. I can’t work out if I struck too early, or too late. Either way, it was gone, by the time I reacted. The river levels continued to drop, and the water became remarkably clear, during the latter stages of February, but the weather stayed cold, and temperatures didn’t shift much beyond 43°F. The going was hard, and increasingly I found myself fishing alone, as Ray continued his good form on the Taff, and Steve was busy working and holidaying.
February passed almost in a blur, and the cold dry conditions, left the river looking undernourished. By the end of the month the Wye had settled to low levels, below those of summer ones at one stage, and the fishing became increasingly harder as a result. With March though, came the first signs of spring, and the riverbank became dotted with colourful bursts of snowdrops, and the daffodil. The fishing didn’t get any easier as the river continued to suffer through lack of rain, and the first few sessions I spent alone, and growing increasingly frustrated. All the action was taking place on the Taff still, as the doubles club extended their run of good fortune, the river seemingly alive with barbel over the magical ten-pound mark. Still, I persevered, and kept plugging away, at a couple of swims that I hoped would produce a fish or two.
The first spring rainfall arrived, quite literally overnight, and the river suddenly became a torrent of brown water. The weather settled into a milder pattern, and the chance of catching a fish or two increased with the onset of the warm climate. The first two sessions of March were both blanks, but I felt confident that, once the river made up its mind whether it was coming up, or going down, the barbel would begin to make up for lost time, and gorge on the abundance of food in the water. I was proved correct, when I went down for my penultimate session of the season.
I arrived at 9am, to find the river slightly up from the previous outing, a few days earlier, but dropping off. The weather was fairly mild, but there was a fresh wind, so I wrapped up in the thermals and Gore-Tex, and set about priming the swim with a hemp, and corn mix. I made the decision to temporarily abandon the boilie approach, and go back to basics, by fishing with meat or corn as hook baits, and save the boilies for later if the action warranted it.
Fishing meat over the baited area, gave me the first contact of the morning, and typically, I suffered a hook pull. Shortly after, I was in again, and the first barbel of the day came to the net, a lovely fish of 6lbs 6ozs. The second fish came an hour later and fought like a tiger. It came to the net very grudgingly, and went 8lbs 2ozs on the scales. A nice fat fish that had obviously been doing a bit of bulking up! Then near disaster struck. I lost my upstream rod when it was dragged off the rest by a log coming downstream. I spent the next forty minutes trying to hook the gear with my other rod, but to no avail. I had just sacrificed almost £240 to the barbel gods, because of my inattention. It later hit home, when I realised that log could have been a fish. Losing your tackle to a snag is bad enough, losing it to a fish is unacceptable, and I made the decision there and then, to never fish two rods whilst barbelling again.
Despite the loss of my tackle, I carried on, determined not to let the day be spoilt. It wasn’t, and Silk arrived at 2pm, and joined me in the swim, fishing where my upstream rod had been. Within twenty minutes of dropping his paste into the swim, he was into a nice barbel, of around six pounds. My mind was made up, and I switched to paste covered boilies, as the action had dried up on the meat. The gamble paid off, and I went on to land three more barbel to five pounds, before we both packed up, as it grew dark and increasingly cold.
I learnt a number of very expensive and valuable lessons that day, and it was nice to have a natter with a fellow nutter too. A definite bonus was taking my first barbel on this particular paste, which I had used a number of times before, but with no success.
So, to the last day of the season. I made my way down to the Wye again, with a frost on the ground. Prospects weren’t looking good, with the river dropping off rapidly, and the colour starting to run off too. The water temperature had dropped steadily during the course of the week, and despite a rise of two degrees Fahrenheit during the day, the barbel didn’t seem to be interested in putting in a last appearance before the summer. Perhaps they were all downstream, looking for my lost rod!
I spent the day sharing a swim with Ray, and chatting about the plans for the oncoming season, in which we both expressed a desire to catch a barbel on the float. So new rods and centrepins for us then… I tell you, the bloke is turning into a right tackle tart! Despite trying a variety of baits, and methods, the barbel weren’t playing ball, so I moved off downstream to rove a couple of swims, hoping to land on top of some fish. It wasn’t to be, and with the onset of the evening, another fellow BFW’er Steve, arrived, and I settled for the rock swim, that I had taken three barbel from earlier in the season. Despite fishing on into dark, I all could manage were a couple of snags, and with the air temperature dipping below three degrees; I left the river and headed home.
On reflection, I have enjoyed a wonderful season, during which I have made some new friendships and experienced some fabulous fishing. The memories of the past season will live with me for a long, long time. I have learnt some lessons, and caught more than a few fish. I have been soaked more than once, and lost my fair share of tackle! I have, in fact, rediscovered the joys of barbel fishing, after too long in the wilderness……
Soon, it will be summer, and a new season will be upon us again. I for one cannot wait, and if you like I’ll share it with you. Only thing is, I can’t think what to call the next article!
