Season Closing Weekend – Part 3 – The River Severn

   Day three took me to a beat famed until recent years for its double figure barbel, The River Severn at Bewdley.  Reports for the past couple of seasons have been mixed for this stretch since a seal named Keith took up residence for a number of months over 2013.  Photos of Keith munching through double figure barbel caused uproar at the time and he was eventually herded downstream amid threats of him being shot.  Dark times.  Still, some of the originally stocked fish do remain and feature occasionally in the Angling Press.  These fish are marked by a tinge of purple across their flanks, fish that are typically around the 11 – 13 lb mark.  These would clearly be a target to hope for then, but after recent sessions even a micro-barbel would be a delight.

Here be Monsters - A stretch known for doubles.
If only I could get them to feed.

   Days one and three had taught me that a static approach was unlikely to work, so I spent almost as much time preparing for the sessions as I did fishing.  Sneaking my gear into the relative warmth of the utility room whilst the wife was distracted, I set to work fining everything down to allow me to remain as mobile as possible.  My three-rod quiver complete with tripod and choice of landing net handles were replaced with a single rod, bankstick, short landing net; and a few elastic bands and tip protectors to hold them all together.  My trusty brolly was sacrificed in favour of a solid waterproof coat and my chair for a small collapsible stool.  Even baits were divided into smaller pots and terminal tackle sorted into a small compartmentalized fly-box.  Clearly lead and feeders add a lot of weight and I usually carry more than a kilo.  Selecting a slightly weaker hooklength than mainline gave me the confidence to shed much of this and I took just a couple of 4 oz leads and 3 oz feeders. 

Office for the Day - The River Severn at Bewdley.

   I decided to have an extra hour in bed and a proper breakfast, rather than hurry out onto the cold river.  I wouldn’t then have to worry about carrying food or tea and was happy enough to get to Bewdley for 10am.  The river was at 2.6 m and about as high as I had fished it.  I’d fished this beat in similar conditions a few times before and caught, so knew the pegs I would target.

   In each of eight pegs I followed a simple approach – fish without feeding for 20 minutes on the way up the beat; then feed with pellet, hemp and a little groundbait and move on.  Having reached the top of the beat I turned round and revisited each of the baited swims on the return journey.  With no luck, I reverted to my final and favoured peg which I had baited heavily at the start.  Here, a gravel platform located beneath a set of steps and sheltered by a bush creates a perfect spot for presenting a bait in floodwater.  It’s well worth paying attention to these features in low water for when the river comes up.

   Presenting the feeder and satisfying myself that the rig wasn’t snagged I flicked on the baitrunner and got comfy on the soft leaf-litter for a snooze.  It’s the most relaxed I’ve been in as long as I can remember, drifting off with the babbling sound of the river, raindrops falling on my waterproof. The only disturbance was occasional birdsong. Bliss.  No barbel, but some much needed downtime.

   Eventually, the peace was shattered.  Not by the scream of my baitrunner as a barbel tore off line, but by a half-mad Labrador licking at my face.  Apparently I hold more appeal than the large lump of spam in a small bait-tub beside me.  Who knew.  With that I decided enough was enough.  With three days of mud to clean from my gear when I got home and an early morning work trip to London beckoning, I packed up and meandered back to the car.  I couldn't help  but feel a little defeated, with just a solitary chub to show for my last four sessions of the season.  Still, those hard sessions make the flyers all the more special and bring an appreciation of each and every barbel that graces our nets.  I’ll approach June 16^th with a hunger to settle the score and will have to wait a little longer until I can feel a barbel put a bend in the new Torrix...

Not so much as a twitch.
The Torrix will have to wait to tame its first barbel..

Season Closing Weekend – Part 2 – The River Wye

   For Day two I was joined by a close friend, Nick, as we revisited the scene of his first ever barbel.  The Wye is by far my favourite river and I never cease to be amazed by how beautiful it looks even in the worst conditions.  Even fishing my ‘regular’ beats the colours change so vibrantly with the weather and seasons that no trip is ever quite the same.

Day 2 - The River Wye.

   Heavy rain on Friday afternoon and through the night meant the river was going to be up-up-up, so we headed to a floodwater beat that I had confidence in.  Alas, the river was even higher than expected, so much so that there were only two fishable pegs and these were already occupied on our arrival. 

   A quick chat with the incumbant anglers over a brew revealed they had traveled from Essex and Rochester respectively and had fished for two days without a bite.  With this in mind we really didn’t begrudge them the pegs and after giving them a little background to the beat and possible approaches, we wished them luck and went to explore the bank for alternatives. 

Goodrich Castle - overlooks the Wye at Bishopswood.

   Having walked the beat, we were able to confirm assertions that there really weren’t any other pegs on the day ticket water safe to fish.  Fortunately, this particular stretch has some private ‘members only’ water and with a little negotiation with one of the local members, we were kindly allowed to fish here given that it was the closing weekend and the day tickets couldn’t otherwise be used.

   The pegs looked like they should hold fish, with plenty of cover up and downstream and I felt a renewed confidence.  An early visit from a typically good omen, Mr.Robin, further boosted morale and a few leftover maggots from the previous day were duly sacrificed.  I like to think his cheerful chirping was Robin for ‘thank you’, but looking back I wonder if it was a more sagely dispensed wisdom of ‘you’ll catch nowt in this weather you daft sod’.  And so it went.  A few hours on and confidence had waned. 

Wildlife spot of the day - always cheery company on a cold day.

   Nick meanwhile had taken the decision to go roving and was duly rewarded for his impetus.  Not twenty minutes passed from when I lost sight of him before I heard the hallowed shout of ‘fish on!’  A few minutes later and he’d slipped the net under a pristine barbel, a sight I’d all but given up on before the season’s end.

Nick with barbel #1, 6lb 4oz

   Over the celebratory cup of tea which was almost as welcome as the barbel, we strategized over the rest of the afternoon.  Nick gave the same peg another half hour whilst I packed most of our gear into the car.  Now all the nimbler for dispensing with chairs, brollies and countless ‘options’, we spent the rest of the afternoon tackling some of the ‘inaccessible’ pegs with the help of a well anchored rope.

   Only a few minutes passed following a speculative cast on the first and trickiest swim, before Nick’s rod gave that familiar two-foot twitch.  Had it been a chub, he'd have been in trouble, powerless from his bank-top position to stop the fish nose-diving into the overhanging trees and undergrowth on either side.  However, this was clearly no chub and it duly obliged, heading out into the flow away from the snags.  Meanwhile, yours truly anchored the rope and made my way precariously down the ‘slip-and-slide-to-impending-doom’ just in time to net his second barbel of the day.

Barbel #2, 4lb 2oz - and the perilous descent.
Always anchor ropes firmly and use bracken for grip. 

   The following and final hour remained fishless before we had to call it a day, making a point of calling in en-route to visit the other anglers that had traveled from further afield.  They, along with myself and the kindly local member had blanked again.  The feeling was that the cold-blooded barbel simply didn’t have the energy to venture out in search for food and were holed up waiting for water temperatures to rise.  They were fishing the same beat tomorrow and passing on our feedback of Nick's success, they were going to adopt a roving approach for their final day, as would I on the Severn.

   Kudos has to go to Nick on this occasion, having made the effort to go and find the fish and reaping the reward of a couple of late season barbel.  It can be easy to let confidence drop and retreat behind a brolly when the weather draws in, but Nick proved that luck is what you make of it and sometimes that little extra effort to force a change can pay dividends.

Season Closing Weekend - Part 1 - The River Teme

   Having barely ventured out over winter bar a tricky session on a flooded Wye, I’d kept a spare couple of days holiday and decided to spend a long weekend’s fishing before the rivers closed.  It’s not lost on me that I’m graced with having three of the country’s most iconic barbel rivers on my doorstep, the Severn, Wye and Teme, so it felt fitting to fish each to close the season.

   Conditions were less idyllic however, with snow-melt flooded rivers and reports from all directions of ‘hard’ conditions.  Still, I was looking forward to the challenge and was glad to be able to fit a few consecutive sessions in around a pause for Mothering Sunday.

Day 1 - The River Teme at Knightwick

   My beat for Day 1 was the Talbot stretch at Knightwick.  The Teme was up, but having only fished this stretch low and clear, it looked fantastic with some water on.  I targeted three swims at the top, middle and bottom.  Each swim was progressively deeper and offered different flows and levels of cover.  My main approach was pellet, supplemented with spam and maggots on both heavy and fine set-ups.  To keep a long story short, I tried just about everything but simply couldn’t get the fish to feed.  Fresh otter prints on the bank had also set alarm bells ringing that the fish wouldn’t prioritize feeding in conditions where their energy levels were low.

   There's little doubt in my mind that small rivers like the Teme have been hammered by otters, with populations of the apex predator seemingly abundant.  That said, if it wasn't for the wildlife, fishing a river would have little more pleasure than a commercial, so I'd rather be with them than without.

Soft mud provides great clues about other river-users.
(Left to right) Otter, Rat, Water Vole

   Whilst the fish failed to make an appearance, soft mud on the banks revealed the sort of wildlife trail I used to follow as a child.  Together with the otter, the bank had recently been visited by a water vole, rat and an owl.  In addition, there was evidence of possible sand martin nests in one of the recessed banks, not to mention a seemingly hyperactive mole. Lovely stuff. 

Taking a closer look at a soft, muddy embankment.
Possible sand martin nests and an owl pellet.

Teme Valley Moles...
Inversely proportional to Teme Valley Barbel

   After countless hours exploring the banks and trying to provoke any sort of response from the fish, the weather turned in the late afternoon.  The lure of the Talbot through the mizzle became too much to bear about an hour before sunset.  A much-needed pint in a warm pub went down a treat before heading home to plan the following day's trip…