My Mistress, My Season
by Paul Thompson
Well, it’s funny how these things go. No sooner had I clapped eyes on a barbel fit to grace my net than the heavens open for seven days, and seven nights, (well not literally of course) , and the water goes all coloured. That’ll be the barbel gods, displeased with me for telling all about ‘my’ monster. Anyhow, I can’t see it now, so instead, I will continue with plan B which is…….erm!
Leaving the monsters to one side, I returned to my beloved river a week later and decided that with the water levels up I could do worse than have a go in one of the winter swims. So ignoring them for a bit (don’t ask me why, because I really don’t know), I headed to a swim I have yet to fish this season, in the vain hope I could bag a couple. Steve (Juninho) was already ensconced in a peg, which is known to produce a double or two, but was bemoaning the lack of bites. Whilst sitting with him and having a chat, I realised why he was so annoyed. There were barbel leaping clear of the river all over the shop. I can’t remember the last time (if ever) I saw barbel behaving like this, and put it down to the change in conditions. One thing for sure, I felt confident as during my carp fishing days I was a fully paid up member of the “Always cast at showing fish” club. However, after an hour or so of watching the Biblins barbel display team, I remembered my plan and hot-footed it to my winter swims. After introducing some droppered bait into a channel running fairly close in, I had a wander and continued to marvel at the amazing site of the BBDT, which was performing all over the river.
I returned to the swim a couple of hours later and started having knocks and taps straight away, not to mention the odd liner which had me sitting on my hands in anticipation. After an hour of enduring the obvious signs of fish feeding over my bait, the tip pulled round and I lifted into a fish. My first thoughts of ‘chub’ were soon challenged as the fish decided to strip some line from the spool, and proceed away from me at speed. I enjoyed the short fight and netted a pale looking barbel of around 4lbs a few minutes later. Even on 10lb mainline and a progressive actioned rod, the small barbel insisted on behaving like one of his much bigger brothers, and after removing the hook (barbless), and resting him in the net, without removing him from the water I slipped him back none the worse for wear. The rest of the evening was spent with me sitting on my hands again, as fish after fish hit the line, but despite all the activity I packed up as dark began to fall without connecting with anymore barbel. It was however, nice to fish a flooded river again, and enjoy the confidence that I find comes with the extra water.
A few days later, I returned to the same swim and baited up on a similar line. My plan was to give them a fair bit of bait, and let it settle, whilst going for a wander to seek out the biggun. The river had been dropping off slowly since my last outing, but was still over her usual summer levels and was still coloured to a degree. Again I was full of confidence and set about my plan with enthusiasm. With ten droppers of bait safely deposited, I set off to the home of the monster.
The fish was healthy enough and showed no signs of weight loss. It just goes to show that you need scales though, I was convinced it was the same fish, and that the weight was the same. To me, as a specimen angler, accurate scales are an important part of my fishing. If a fish is 9-15-8, then I want to know that. I don’t want scales that weigh different every time, so that you can keep going until you get your double, maybe on the fourth of fifth weighing attempt!
It’s always a ‘relief’ to get your first fish of every session under your belt. Not that I’m ashamed of blanks, but I’d sooner catch than not! And very often with my sort of fishing, you don’t get that many bites, so it’s important to take your chances.
But on this occasion I had another bite at a second cherry a couple of hours later. This fish fought incredibly well, and during the fight I was wondering if my first double of the season was about to see the inside of my landing net. As it came into view, I didn’t see anything that made me change my mind.
Earlier that week, I had prepared a bait which Chris Ponsford had kindly shared the recipe of, with me. I was now armed with this and was looking forward to witnessing any reaction from the monster, if she was home that is. Although the water wasn’t particularly clear, it was fining down enough to allow the bottom to be seen through the first few feet of water which was all I required.
Upon arriving at the swim, I could see the gravel bed, but no fish. I threw a few pieces of bait into the margin and wandered further upstream, continuing the same process in each swim I came to. I returned to the main swim to find two small chub digging into the gravel trying to locate the bait. I knelt behind some nettles and watched with interest, as they enjoyed the freebies I had supplied. Hoping that other fish would appear, I remained hidden and continued to supply further food to the chub that were now gorging themselves on my new bait. This gave me further confidence, but I had to keep reminding myself that most chub will eat anything if they feel safe. Hoping this principle would apply to monster barbel, I carried on with the feeding. Despite the obvious attraction of the bait to the chub, no other fish appeared, and I left after an hour and returned to dropper some more bait into my swim. I then left this for a further hour, and returned to the swim to fish, after using the facilities of the Saracens head…….
About two hours into the session, the rod top shot round and a barbel began tearing line from the spool. It was an absolutely screaming take, and with the fish well hooked I lifted into it and another very spirited barbel was landed. I had to weigh her as she was very long and although appeared lean, the fight she gave belied her size. Five and a half pounds, which I double checked, was the weight. I returned the fish and wondered if she was taking performance enhancing drugs!! She was followed by three other barbel, of around the same weight, all of which fought much harder than their size would seem to allow.
I left, again as darkness fell over the valley, a very happy angler. I had gained a valuable insight into the behaviour of chub, caught more than one barbel in a session, and proved to myself that the new bait mix works, just as I was told it would. Thanks bait guru; I’ll keep you informed of my progress. Now where’s that monster gone..........?
Where indeed you may ask? Dunno would be the answer at the moment. I haven’t seen her recently, but I’m certain she’s there; having a quiet feed on the bait I’ve been trickling in over the last few weeks.
Returning to the river over the next few weeks, each time the levels were dropping off further and further as the hot weather turned into a heat wave. With the lack of top up water, the river started to stagnate and what appeared to be an algae bloom formed leaving the water unusually low and coloured. This didn’t seem to adversely affect the barbel though, and they continued to feed on angler’s baits. Indeed, it seemed they were actually thriving on the conditions and a few big fish were reported from different stretches of the river during this period.
I decided though to have a short break and stopped fishing during the dry hot period, and as this coincided with a lengthy visit from a family member, it was as good a time as any to take the break. Before I begun my period of abstinence though, one more trip was on the cards, and after baiting up with my pellet combination, I waited for the sun to drop behind the trees before fishing the swim. It was stifling hot, and I was sweating just sitting still! An hour into the session, and Rich joined me for a chat, with his dog ‘Pink’, (claims it belongs to his sister, but I didn’t see her walking it…).
Whilst engaging in barbelly conversation my quivertip was constantly moving as fish after fish hit the line. Both Rich and I were soon sat on our hands whilst the dog whined and we kept uttering expletives at the frustration of watching the tip banging back and forth. As the sun dropped from the sky, a solitary chub of 4 1/2lbs made an appearance and I packed up on dark looking forward to a few days rest!
With the heat wave over, I managed to get down the river for a short session after work. Recently the majority of my barbelling has been done in very short periods of no more than 4 hours, and although I’d like to spend more time by the river it just doesn’t seem possible.
The same pellet combination was droppered into the swim, and with the levels lower
than ever, I used the catty to put a couple of pouches out hoping the pellets would
drift further downstream and pull some fish into the swim. Deciding to leave the
bait only a short period of time for a change, I cast in some 30 minutes later and
almost immediately had a long slow pull round, resulting in a fit barbel of 4lb or
so. Some more bait went in, and I was soon into another fish whilst under the close
scrutiny of Ray and Bob, who after bagging up, further upstream had popped down for
a chat before going home. The two wise men gave a running commentary for anyone
caring to listen, and I duly amused then, by making a poor job of netting the fish
and having it leap back into the water as I unhooked it in the net whilst still in
the river. They seemed disappointed that I hadn’t fallen in from my precarious
position too, and neither of them offered to help me with the net!!
Shortly after my elders (!) had left, I was into the third barbel of the evening,
although in very different circumstances from the first two…I happened to be looking
away from the rod, and when I heard the whooshing noise and looked up, the rod was
arcing gracefully through the air, and into the river. Bugger not again thought I!
Luckily, the weight of the reel took the butt end down into the margins, and the
white quivertip was clearly visible just below the surface. However, the rod was not
reachable from the bank, so after 15 very frustrating minutes trying to hook the rod
with my dropper rod and heavy lead, I stripped down to me boxers, and prepared to go in.
One toe in, and I thought "I'll just give the dropper rod and landing net combo one
more go", and 5 minutes later, out came one wet rod and reel, and one barbel still
hooked. It was a small fish of around 3lbs, and I felt I didn’t deserve it after the
charade of it all, but I returned the fish none the worse for wear, and must have
left him wondering what on earth that was all about…
The next session was on the Sunday of August bank holiday, and the less said about
it the better really. Loads of boats, noisy kids, dogs, swimmers, idiots the lot.
The barbel shut up shop for the day, but I managed 3 chub from a couple of swims.
So much for going fishing to relax!!!
A change of scenery was called for, and I headed off to the Teme with a friend,
to revisit the stretch I caught my very first barbel on. Things hadn’t changed too
much, but the river like most was suffering from the absence of rain, and was running
very low. I winkled one out though from a typical Teme snag swim, and remembered in
an instant how hard these Teme barbel fight. Off it shot, straight through the snag,
and motored off around the bend. Nothing else for it but to get wet, so into the
water I went (no waders today!) and duly followed the fish as it charged downstream
at some rate of knots, heading for the Severn and freedom. I eventually netted a
lovely barbel of around 4-5lbs, which gave me a soaking again with a flick of its
powerful tail as it went off to sulk in the snag again.
The weather continued to be hot, right into late September, and I began thinking
about my winter campaign on the Wye, despite conditions resembling those of high
summer! Word was out that fish were being caught on the lower reaches of my usual
stretch, and I joined in the hunt for some barbel.
After a couple of very short sessions, which were aborted due to the ever present
numbers of canoeists, I managed to drop into a swim, that Rich had caught a fair
few fish from over the course of the weekend. Four barbel put in an appearance that
afternoon, including an eight that was 34 inches long, and looked so much bigger.
Mal was on hand to weigh the fish, and neither of us could quite believe the scales
stubbornly refusing to go past the number eight on the dials. It was a fantastic
fish that may well bulk up before the end of the season and I hope to meet her again
in March perhaps.
With a week booked off work, I made plans to fish for three days in a week, and
hopefully bag a large fish into the bargain. The first day saw the water
temperatures drop a couple of degrees, with some sporadic rain and high winds
preceding it. I finished the day early, after losing far too many leads, and hook
lengths, and catching one barbel which again went to the number eight, but no
further. Two days later, and I was back, with Silk, Ray, and Bob also in attendance.
Arriving just after dawn (she left to go home!); I baited the swim with the dropper,
and left it to settle for an hour or so. By eleven AM, it was very windy, and the
rod remained still. Then the tip pulled round, and I was into a good barbel.
Despite shouting to Silk, who’d roamed downstream, the wind was so strong, he only
just turned up to net the fish, which had stayed deep all through the fight.
She looked pristine in the autumn sunlight, and pulled the needle round to nine
pounds, and is the biggest fish of my season to date. Result!! I changed tactics,
and begun to cast towards the downstream end of the swim, a change which paid off,
with five more barbel coming to the net, and one fish being lost on a submerged
rock.
As we left the fishery around 6.30pm, I reflected on a good day, which now resembled
a summers evening. Typically, I had spent all day wrapped up in all my thermal gear
in with the wind blowing a hooligan. But that’s barbel fishing for ya!
AI returned to the river two days later, for my third session of the week. It was
great to be on the river at such a lovely time of the year, and with all the kids
back at school and the adults at work, I had the river to myself. I arrived to find
the high winds the night before, had brought down a very large tree across the
forestry track, although the winds had died right down and it was very pleasant by
the water.
I carefully droppered some of my favoured pellet mix into the swim, which I had
never fished before, and gave it an hour before fishing. The river had risen about
5-6 inches over the previous two nights, and although clear looked healthy and
promising. Trouble was not far away though, and the gremlins had been at work.
Reeling in a lump of weed the rod snapped clean in two! Same break as the previous
rod of the same manufacturer. GUTTED.
Two hours later, I had returned from my trip home with my spare rod, and felt
confident the fish would have got their heads down over the pellets I put in earlier
that morning. Twenty minutes after recasting, I had a fizzing bite which hoped the
rod round, and a heavy fish gave its customary slow deep fight. A good fish was
netted, and pulled the scales round to 9lbs 7ozs. I was over the moon, as it was my
biggest barbel thus far this season, and was a great looking fish to boot.
Another barbel of 6lbs 2ozs followed and I left the fishery for the last time that
week on a high, despite the rod break. My aim had been to catch a double, but
although I hadn’t quite achieved it, I had enjoyed my week immensely and now had
some sort of structure to build my winter campaign on.
Paul Thompson
