A Day For All Seasons

The majestic River Wye

With only one days fishing available to me across the closing week of the season, there was only ever going to be one candidate, the River Wye and all of it's beauty and splendor. A booking via the WUF would see me on a beat that I had been trying to pull a double figure fish from for the last couple of seasons. Home to plenty of long lean summer fish, I'd always struggled to retain the same sort of catching form over the autumn and winter months and 9 lb 7 oz was the tantalizingly close best so far. My winter form wasn't helped by this not being a particularly great floodwater beat, with very limited near bank cover. It was with some concern then that I watched the weather forecast in the build up to Sunday and to watch river levels rocketing across the Midlands. By the time I woke on Sunday morning, the river levels at Ross on Wye were 2 m, 60% higher than levels I knew to be unfavorable for the beat. However, with the tickets booked, an email from the WUF stating that a wash-off required fishing to be technically impossible; and the reality of cancellation meaning more decorating, I decided to give it a punt. My partner for the day would be Nick Fisher, and it would be good to have a catch-up with him, even if the fish didn't join us.

Spring! and the welcome sight of sunshine!

And so, in the early hours of Sunday morning as my alarm rang out, I leapt out of bed, threw on my winter wet weather clothing and packed the car quickly and quietly. A quick cuppa brewed in a thermos mug and I was away. The weather was abysmal. Pouring rain and howling wind was definitely 'go back to bed' weather but with a little encouragement from tea and heated seats, I made it down the M50 to my beloved River Wye. By arrival the weather had turned and I greeted Nick in a farmyard bathed in sunshine. With calves inquisitively peering across the farmyard the morning had a real sense of Spring about it, and gave me a faint sense of hope that the weather might not be such a challenge after all.

Making our way down to the river it wasn't quite as high as I was actually expecting. Although it was pushing through at quite a rate I was confident that we could get a rod in down the edge and perhaps hold in the flow with a heavy weight and large bow of slack in the line. Making our way up river towards mid-beat, we took some time over a brew to weigh up our approach, including a how to get four rods into an angry river whilst still remaining close enough to one another to have a catch up. In the end, we opted to target the same area of the near bank sheltered behind a tree. I  would  opt  for  a 14mm  paste-wrapped  ambush

pellet with some free offerings on PVA string, whilst Nick would try a bunch of lobworms downstream of a heavy feeder. We would then both put a rod out in front as far into the flow as we could manage, using 5oz grippa leads and a bow of slack. Keeping with the theme of different baits I opted for an 18mm Krill boilie with matching paste and Nick two 10mm ambush pellets.

With the logistics decided I mixed up some bait and started to introduce it down the edge using a large baitdropper. Deciding not to be shy, I introduced one dropper of bait every metre over a 10m spread. The plan was to get any fish that called in for a rest behind the bankside shelter confidently on the munch. The heavy baiting tactic also gave some allowance for loss of bait to the heavy flow in the hours ahead. The loosefeed itself comprised halibut and hemp groundbait, elips pellet, whole 10mm source and crushed 18mm krill boilies, hemp and corn. A feast that hopefully no fish could ignore...

With the swim baited we took the opportunity to get the peg well established and took a walk of the beat to identify a few potential options for later in the day.

Wildlife Spot of the Say - Mirror carp scale-esque fungus and a great spotted woodpecker

Suffice to say that the rest of the morning on the bank was wholly unproductive. With rods cast in we were managing to hold in the flow, but without so much as a touch. The same was true of the anglers on the opposite bank a couple of hundred yards downstream and it was evident that we needed to ring the changes. As a quick rule of thumb, if barbel aren't finding you, move to find the barbel. This is more true on a cold and flooded river than in any other condition. With fish lethargic from a sudden influx of cold water or simply sheltering from the flow, it was evident that they were not confidently foraging. So, selecting a few likely looking swims upstream, Nick and I set off to try and force a fish in difficult conditions. At each likely location one of us would target the slack sheltered water immediately downstream of a feature and the other would roll a lead round underneath from upstream.

Likely spot... Sheltered by an upstream tree, this debris mat is a great fish holding feature

Within less than an hour we had covered three likely looking lies. It was on the third, right at the top end of the beat that we finally had some interest. Within minutes of Nick rolling a 14 mm ambush pellet under a tree his rod wrapped round and the first fish of the day took off for the flow. With his clutch set a little more loosely than necessary it was apparent that Nick was going to need to up the pressure to keep the fish from the snags and drag it back upstream against the flow. With a few minor adjustments Nick was back in charge and quickly slipped the net under a fish of around the 6lb mark. Not the double we had come for, but a very welcome fish in difficult circumstances, hard fought and well earned. A few casts into the same swim failed to produce another fish and we moved back down the beat towards our original peg, retrying each of the previously baited spots we had fished en route. With the sun shining, a clearing sky carrying the vivid colors of summer and without another fish we decided it was time for lunch and retreated to the stove for bacon butties and soup. 

Make it happen! If the barbel don't find you... find the barbel!

With one eye on the bottom end of the beat, we decided to give our original swim one last attempt whilst we cooked and ate lunch. The fish (if any!) had been left undisturbed to get their head down on the bait and it was a surprise when my mid-river rods responded despite being nowhere near the baited area. The deftest of tugs on the rod was followed by a slackening of line and I assumed a snag had dragged the lead out of position. I picked up the rod in readiness for the flow to arch the rod over, which it did in a slow controlled snag-like fashion. Giving it a short sharp 'just in case' strike I began to reel in against the flow. To my amazement I felt the unmistakable shake of a fish on the other end. Using a 5 oz lead and a carp rod just to hold in the flow, I can't say that it was a fight to remember, but it was a fish I wouldn't even have connected with on lighter tackle. A second fish of around the 6lb mark meant that neither of us had blanked. Barbel being fickle creatures, I've always maintained that any day with a barbel on the bank is a good one! 

Whisker! a pristine barbel around the 6lb mark 

With a fish on the bank from mid-river, we decided to give it another 30 minutes at our original location before making our way downstream to explore the bottom end of the beat. Recasting the rod as far out into the flow as I dared, Nick and I took turns watching the rods whilst we packed away our gear into the car, leaving us with just the essentials for the remainder of the afternoon. A handful of spare leads and terminal tackle, and the last of the seasons bait... to be applied liberally into any likely looking bankside swims. With no further inquiries the rods were withdrawn and we headed downbeat in what was still a relatively sunny day, albeit an increasingly windy one.

The first peg we came to with accessible cover was a little too close to anglers on the far bank. Whilst neither party could have fished more than a rod length out given the flow and streamer weed that characterizes mid-river,  it felt like we'd be poaching fish from under there noses. I'd have certainly felt a little aggrieved if two anglers had arrived to fish just short of opposite us, and with this in mind we carried on down. The next swim offered Nick a pair of willow bushes to fish between and a mature tree for me to roll a lead under. I also cast out into the flow, entirely expecting to snag in the streamer weed. Both of us felt we had positioned ourselves on the available features for the stretch and that if barbel were present and on the mooch we'd stand a chance of picking one up. However, with half an hour gone, not so much as a twitch and some menacing looking clouds on the horizon, we decided to carry on down to give ourselves enough time to give the lower beat the effort it deserved. By the time we arrived at the penultimate stretch, the rain clouds had overtaken us, thoroughly soaking us in the process.

Having made our way through the electric fences into the next meadow, we arrived at one of my favourite sections of the River Wye, aesthetically at least. Now, if I 

were to design a barbel swim, other than adding a weir (or perhaps a beer garden), I can't think of a single feature that this stretch doesn't have. Upstream the river shallows before narrowing and deepening creating oxygenating turbulence. This is followed by a deep pool, constrained at it's lower end by a salmon croy. As the path of the river is forced around the croy, it passes under a beautiful oak tree, and through another deep pool. This pool empties via a fast deep channel which runs a few hundred meters along the far bank, with a shallow pebble beach to the near side. Of course in these conditions, the peg looked very different indeed and none of these features were visible beneath the dark muddy water. A map of these features in my mind though was all that was needed to identify the areas to cast to. We targeted the deep pools either side of the salmon croy. This provided deep sheltered water, with immediate access to fast flow and felt like our best bet of a final fish.

Within a a few minutes of casting the weather had changed dramatically and mother nature was reminding us winter was not yet behind us. Nick had spent all day warning of the hail that would arrive later in the afternoon, something I'd written of as a myth some hours previously. With the horizon disappearing as a wall of white approached us, we hunkered down to fish through the storm. Combined with the howling wind, being out in the hail was akin to being shot blasted. Any attempt to turn into the wind resulted in oversized beads of ice pinging painfully of of the face. Usually hail storms are short-lived. This particular vortex of joy lasted for some 45 minutes, alternating between hail and snow. Good waterproofs served us well, but neither of our gloves held out and cold wet frostbitten hands would prove a real challenge for our last hour or so on the bank. Decent waterproof gloves will definitely be the next purchase for my fishing wardrobe.

Ouch! Being reminded we're still in winter by a good shot-blasting from Mother Nature.

It was during this hail storm that Nick struck into a determined rattle of his rod tip, presumably from a chub. Striking into thin air, it felt as if a final chance had been missed. Even so, and with the storm having blown itself onwards towards anyone mad enough to be fishing the Lower Severn at Gloucester, we moved onto one final spot.

The Wye - Looking somewhat Autumnal!

Our final peg then was to fish over the flooded pebble beach. Our thinking was barbel might move over the gravel to feed on invertebrates hidden amongst the newly submerged pebbles beneath the floowdwater. It was a longshot, especially with the flooded beach shallower than expected. Any attempt to cast into deeper water resulted in the 5oz leads heading swiftly in the direction of Monmouth. We weren't lucky enough to tempt another fish, but the riverbank had taken on a beautiful coloration in the setting sunlight, almost autumnal with reds and golds and yellow hewed greens.Weather-wise, this has been the strangest season I've known on the river, from the baking summer and low oxygen levels, the early autumn and spring; to the sudden final cold snap as winter tried to grip on a moment longer. It was fitting perhaps that my last trip of the river season should have featured a little glimpse of each season; and as the sun set, my mind was already thinking towards June and targeting those abundant long lean summer barbel!

The sun setting on another wonderful season on the UK's Rivers.

Are you interested in fishing this beat? If so, tickets for 'White House' can be bought from the Wye and Usk Foundation. Accommodation is available on the neighboring farm, just a two minute walk from the river in the form of five fabulous tipis situated in an apple orchard with beds, linen and BBQ/firepit. Booking and further information can be found here:

https://whitehouseonwye.co.uk/glamping-and-fishing

Sportfish Photo of the Month Winner (Feb '19)

When I started writing this blog I hadn’t quite anticipated how writing would influence another growing hobby of mine, photography. With the blog in mind I’m rarely on the bank these days without a camera, even if it’s simply a trusty smartphone. I find myself thinking more carefully about the shots that record my time on the bank and have taken great pride in some of the results.

Being inherently competitive, but also to increase publicity for the blog I’ve decided to enter a few photos in some photo competitions, run by tackle companies or local interest groups. It’s with a huge amount of pride that my first entry was successfully voted Sportfish Photo of the Month for February 2019.

'Beautiful Wye Barbel' by Tim Prosser

A huge thanks to Sportfish for running the competition and everybody who voted for me!

Sportfish, award winning game fishing tackle supplier

I’ve included the other shortlisted photo’s below for anyone interested to see the competition! Sash von R’s tiger trout was a particularly special fish I thought.

'First ever Tiger Trout' by Sash von R

'Big Brown' by Georgi Nikolov

'Full up with Crayfish' by Simon Page

'Grayling on the Dee' by Paul Kuzcera

Short Session Rewards

Sunrise over the River Severn - well worth an early start.

In recent weeks I've been struggling to get out on the bank fishing, but promised myself I would at least make it out to do some hiking and photography as and when opportunities arose to provide some blog content. With a weekend's DIY programmed, there would be little opportunity in the day, so I decided to make an early start to take advantage of a hard morning frost to capture the Severn Valley in all it's beauty.

Departing just before dawn, I headed for the closest stretch of the Severn at Holt Fleet. The view on my arrival was magical, even from the road bridge, with the sun just beginning to climb up over the horizon.

Taking a moment to capture a few photographs and enjoy the feeling of a little warmth on my face, it was apparent how early spring had arrived this year. Though the hard frosts were still biting in the morning, there were plenty of signs of an early spring, from catkins on the trees, to the first snowdrops of the year. Perhaps the most notable of these is the return of the dawn chorus, something I've always enjoyed and associated with early morning fishing trips, a soundtrack of sorts to the River. It's a joy to hear it's return, and keen to get farther into the rural reaches of the countryside in time for it to begin in earnest, I left the bridge towards a stile beyond the Holt Fleet pub.

Dry and bright early spring mornings - characterized by hard frosts and warm yellow light.

I headed up into the the fields above the river to enjoy the view down towards the river across the rolling hills that characterize the Severn Valley and rural Worcestershire. After exploring Holt Church and photographing a Kestrel perched in a churchyard conifer, I made my way down to the River and up to Holt Weir.  There's a

pleasant vantage point here down to the bridge that was designed by Thomas Telford in the early 1800's, with the River smooth as glass above the sill and turbulent and violent beneath it. The weir attracts fish for a host of reasons. The bottom is scoured to bedrock and gravel, which many fish prefer to feed over. The turbulent flow provides both shelter and disorientated prey, and oxygen levels are super-saturated. I note that the Environment Agency are due to install a Shad pass here as part of their campaign to open up the River Severn. It'll be interesting to see whether this changes the character of the river here, a popular spot with both coarse and salmon anglers alike.

Holt Weir - Icy black glass above and turbulent white water beneath. 

From the vantage point above the weir, I headed back to the car and homewards to the endless joy of decorating, albeit via the local farm shop for a fantastic full English Breakfast. By the time I got home, the clock had barely struck 10 and I couldn't help but think how easily I could have wasted such a beautiful morning.

I spent the rest of the day being as productive as possible, with one eye on an 'evening pass' and my mind on the turbulent depths of that weir pool and the late-season treasure it might hold. It was music to my ears whilst making one final cup of tea to be met with the magic words 'Go on then'. Without having mentioned a word, the Minister of Fishing Permits had noticed exactly where my mind had been all day and set me free into the early evening.

Bundling my rods into the car and hoping they were still set up from the session before, I hot footed it down to the bank as the sun was starting to fall in the sky. By the time I had made it out onto the narrow concrete ledge at the side of the weir and unfurled a rod from the quiver, there was barely half an hour of light remaining.

On the bank at last! Albeit with time against me!

Normally in a low and clear winter river I'd be considering maggots and hemp. But with no time to build a swim, subtle would be a luxury I could ill afford, so large and smelly was my plan of attack. An 18mm Krill It Boilie with a large lump of matching paste was quickly flung out to the tail of the Weir. A small PVA bag of crushed boilies was added to the hook and another dab of paste around the lead for good measure. 

With rod number one positioned, I mused over whether it was worth the effort to set up a second, the Harrison Torrix was geared up for float work so would require a full re-set... With the odds against me, I decided to go for it and quickly set about tying a simple but effective rig. Always keen to offer the barbel something different across the two rods, I attached a 15mm Ambush Pellet to a hair rigged size 10 hook. Keeping with the principle of large and smelly, Ambush have never let me down and I'm absolutely confident in their barbel pulling-power. The water temperatures have just started to climb, and the ambush pellets aren't particularly oily, so I wasn't overly concerned about using pellet in these conditions.

Casting rod number two upstream just into the edge of the turbulent water of the weir, I sat back to wait. The colour just beginning to drain from the landscape as the sun dipped behind the horizon.

Last light - using the skyline can help watch for bites well into dusk.

At around 6pm, with just a little light left, the otherwise motionless Torrix gave a small bump as the lead adjusted itself. With no debris and the flow not otherwise effecting the 3oz lead, I pondered whether this might have been a fish disturbing the lead as it rooted around. I steadied myself. Again the rod bumped... I held my patience. It seemed to take an eternity as I peered up to the horizon from the gloom, but my initial instincts proved correct.... Thwack! The rod arched over and then went completely slack as the fish took off downstream. Reeling into the slack and giving a short strike quickly confirmed contact. Fish on! My first thoughts were that I had hooked into a small barbel. It seemed easy to manoevre towards me; and gave me little trouble for the first part of the fight. As always, the fish kept plenty in reserve for once against the near bank, and despite leaning into the fish to keep it's head up and away from snags, there was to be no hurrying it as it took off again and again on short surging runs under the rod tip. Finally slipping the net under the fish I was pleasantly surprised at the lump settled in the net. With the briefest of rests in the cool water, the fish was unhooked, photographed, weighed and rested once more before return. The back-eddie against the near bank of the weir is relatively strong, so this final resting is always important for the fishes welfare and safe return. A very respectable 9lb 7oz and a personal best for this beat. My joint second largest ever barbel!

A short session's reward! 9lb 7oz and my second largest barbel!

Rather than recast, and giving myself no more than a final fifteen minutes, I put my faith in rod number two and that large wrapping of paste that by now must have left quite the scent trail downstream. Holding out just a little hope, I checked the baitrunner and busied myself packing away all but the essentials ready to leave.

It was fully dark now, and I could just make out the rod tip against the moonlit horizon. Barely a moment before I reached down to wind in for the day, the rod tip began to shake violently with the tell tale signature of a chub... Hooking into the fish I foolishly paused to fumble with my head torch and that moment's lack of pressure allowed the fish to dive into a mid river snag. Walking along the ledge I managed to find a different angle and with a little pressure pulled the fish free. From there-on the fish came in with little fuss. A very reasonable chub at 4lb 10oz. 

An unexpected bonus - in the shape of a 4lb 10oz Chub!

For some reason I've never found the Severn overly prolific for chub, though I know others find excellent sport for Chevin's from it's banks. At over 4lb, this fish was a comfortable PB for the Severn, my previous an unweighed fish of around 3lb. Heading home, I was more than happy with the evening's exploits, and a very enjoyable time spent on and along the river at either side of the day. It just goes to show that by getting your location and tactics right, there's plenty of value in super short sessions and taking whatever opportunity arises to get out on the bank. Get out there!

ooOOoo

Please Vote! (Link to the right!)

p.s... Please vote for my photo of a barbel in the Sportfish Photo of the month competition here:
https://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.2052134654863205&type=1&l=e92e026457

Photo Diary - Winter on the Droitwich Barge Canal

To me, the UK's waterways are one of it's hidden gems and for as long as I can remember I've simply enjoyed being on, in or by water. If it were down to me the entire UK waterscape would be protected as part of a huge Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty. The waterscape is a gift that keeps on giving, with such a dynamic aesthetic; changing dramatically with the seasons and weather but also subtly on a daily basis, with fluctuations in daylight, weather and wildlife. No two walks along the same watercourse are ever the same. So as part of a new photo-journalism series I've decided to try and capture the beauty of the UK waterscape. Punctuating the many occasions I can't make it out with a rod, I'll be out trying to capture the ever-changing water environment. Whilst I'm very much an amateur photographer, I hope you enjoy spending a little time on the bank through the lens of my camera!

It would have been easy to start this series with a trip to the majestic River Wye in Autumn, but rather I wanted to choose a venue that was unremarkable and as accessible as possible. So on one of the few frosty mornings we've had the pleasure of this winter, I headed out to Porter's Mill, situated on the Droitwich Barge Canal. Semi-rural and running almost parallel to the River Salwarpe, I planned to be out for no more than an hour, door to door, to to capture it's secrets... Enjoy!

  

With mile upon mile of accessible towpath, canals are much underrated beauty spots

Winter - those cold crisp mornings sugar coat everything they touch...

Our Subject - The Droitwich Barge Canal

Bankside rushes, haven to fish and birds alike

Photography is more accessible than ever - this shot taken on an iPhone rather than an SLR  

A perfect peg for perch?

Teasel's - at their best when withered husks

Rosehips - by this time as cold as I was!

Anyone for a canal chub?

I hope you've enjoyed this brief photo-diary and perhaps that it will inspire a few of you to get out with your own cameras in the new year... with or without your rods! If you've enjoyed, please leave a comment and I'll be sure to make plenty of similar posts! Happy New Year all!

A Reward for Madness

Fish-on... All the motivation you should need to beat the elements this winter!

With a day’s fishing firmly penciled in on the calendar for Sunday 9^th, I had been eagerly watching Met Office forecasts and levels for each of the Rivers Severn, Teme and Wye. I had no particular preference and with heavy rain forecast in the week ahead it would clearly come down to conditions on the day. By Sunday morning the Wye was ready to burst its banks and the Teme resembled a raging torrent, leaving only the Severn as a viable option. A previous floodwater session had seen me on the bank at Winterdyne with levels of 2.1m, a figure I now use as a benchmark for the river licking the towpath. A morning check showed the river to be above this at 2.3m, from a resting level of 0.5m barely a week before. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t considered cancelling, but was reluctant to lose a day on the bank at such a busy time of year. ‘Fortune favours the brave’ I thought… and leapt out of bed to forage in the cold for tea.

Musing my options over an early morning brew, I eventually decided on the BAA stretch at Northwood. The first swim above the old railway stanchions has been kind to me in the past, especially in floodwater conditions and the venue was close enough to home to abort if the river conditions turned out to be either too dangerous or impossible to fish.

Ready for all eventualities - and a long walk!

Arriving for 8 am, I was pleased to find no other anglers in the car park and the river not in the field! I decided to use a trolley for the couple of hundred metre walk down to the river and despite momentarily stranding myself in a shallow flooded section of field, soon enough arrived at my peg. The river had entirely engulfed the existing peg and was now level with the approaching bank. The base of the peg from which anglers would usually fish would provide a clear platform on which I would present a bed of bait. Ten minutes casting about with just a lead was time well spent to get a locate the embankment and get a sense of the peg. To my surprise the sheltered water extended to some 30 yards from the bank on account of a large fallen tree above the next peg along. Being able to hold bottom on the edge of this flow with a 4oz weight was a big confidence boost and would allow me to fish a second rod and therefore experiment more widely with bait options.

Smelly baits - don't be shy in floodwater

I’ve always found simple approaches best in cold floodwater conditions, when water colour and flow rules out delicate visible baits such as maggots. Rather I prefer highly-scented baits, with a preference for boilies over pellets in winter. That said, barbel see so may pellets all year round, I always include them in my loose feed together with hemp to keep the fish grubbing around.

With plenty of visible snags and even more beneath the surface, my tackle choice would need to take no prisoners. Selecting rods with powerful blanks would allow me to bully fish away from snags if needed. Mainline and hooklength were stepped up, with high abrasion resistance and frayed tensile strength critical. Daiwa sensor is my go-to line for these occasions and I have absolute confidence in it. Short 3ft leaders would reduce snagging, and Size 8 and 10 Drennan Specialist hooks would be matched to larger and smaller baits respectively. Finally, trimmed down anti-eject sleeves would increase the potential for hook-ups. I would experiment with smaller change baits down the edge and fish a paste-wrapped 21mm krill boilie out in front.

The first hour would see me casting out regularly to build confidence that areas were snag-free, feeding loose offerings with each cast. Shortly after 10, I mistakenly over-cast the outward rod and watched it bounce round beyond the edge of a near bank tree. I entirely expected it to be snagged, but nevertheless set the baitrunner to allow me to take some photographs of the morning sun bathing the river stanchions in a beautiful pale yellow light.

Any moment... 

The decision to leave that rod in proved decisive, with the rod hooping over shortly afterwards. Lifting into the fish, I felt a heavy resistance but there was no characteristic run to indicate a barbel. Expecting a chub to dive into the bankside snags I put a deep bend in the rod with the only response being the spinning of the tightly set clutch. For those first minutes the fish appeared content to slowly plod around the depths, undisturbed by my attempts to intervene. Marking a sudden change in proceedings, the fish made a bee-line for the flow and on finding it turned with the current and bolted downstream. By the time the clutch finished screaming the fish was well downstream of the stanchions. Fortunately the fish was also mid-river and clear of the sharp-edged stone columns. stayed so until after it was back upstream of the sharp edged stone columns. Applying consistent pressure to gradually make ground on the fish, I managed to bring it back upstream and shortly after get the fish under the rod tip. However, the fish was still sat deep amongst an array of bankside snags and despite applying far more pressure than I usually would at this point in proceedings, the fish still felt firmly in control of our tussle.

Eventually, the fish relented to the pressure and came up towards the surface. The moment the lead became visible the fish kited upstream and across a shallow sunken branch. Everything went solid. I kept the pressure on for a moment… Nothing. I held firm, feeling for any feedback that fish was still present… Nothing. My heart sank. The amount of pressure the fish could withstand even in the slack water indicated the fish was better-than-average. I slackened everything off... Sometimes in doing so, the fish will swim itself free of the snag by pulling in the opposite direction… Nothing. Despondent, I moved as far in the opposite direction as the floodwater would allow and with one last gambit leaned hard into the snag. With the rod bent double, I was waiting for the inevitable ‘ping’ of hooklength separating from mainline. With everything suddenly giving, the rod swept bank and I almost fell up the bank. Expecting to have broken the hooklength, I was both surprised and astonished when the rod tugged savagely back towards the river and the barbel, still connected, made one last thunderous run for freedom. Loosening the clutch as little as I dared, I let the fish steam out and then gradually played it back, quickly slipping the net under the fish at the first opportunity.

As she slipped into the net, she looked a good eight or perhaps a nine but it was only as the fish rolled onto her side in the net that I got a true impression of the fishes size. The fish was nearly 6” deep and extremely broad across the belly. A sharp-eyed few of you will have noticed my blog target to catch a 10lb barbel, less still will know that since I began fishing rivers all those years ago, I’ve never managed to catch a double figure barbel. Along the way there have been a handful of fish that I thought might tip the scales, only to fall short. In the end, it was a fish that I had absolutely no doubt in that broke that revered threshold. After a brief rest in the net, I transferred her to a sling and with the scales zeroed, atched the dial spin and settle on 10lb 10oz. I'd finally done it! With the banks muddy and slippy, I set up a go-pro on the bank to capture some footage of the fish before returning her to the river from whence she came and sat back to absorb the moment, grinning from ear to ear.

10'10 - My first double-figure barbel!

Winter-form - look at that belly!

It was some ten minutes before I could bring myself to cast my rods back in. The rest of the day was entirely unproductive despite trying smaller baits and five different swims later in the afternoon. It didn’t matter one bit though, I’d had my reward for the madness of being out on the bank in such conditions and fortune certainly does seem to favour the brave.

Somewhere under a Rainbow

There are few settings that put me quite as at peace as the River Wye.  Beautiful, tranquil and some of the best barbel water anywhere in the country, the perfect venue for some much needed downtime.  My partner for the day would be Nick Fisher and a booking via the WUF would allow us to have the beat to ourselves undisturbed.  Being a Friday in late October, we were hopeful of avoiding a circus of Kayaks and blissfully we weren’t to see a single boat all day.

Similar to a child at Christmas, I never sleep particularly well the night before fishing.  I quietly manage to get over-excited, my mind busy with tactics, approaches, hopes and dreams.  Rising a little after six, I for once managed to leave on time, heading out into the cold rainy darkness only to realize ten minutes down the road I had left my bag of warm and wet weather clothing by the door.  Having returned and restarted the journey, it was a little after dawn when I arrived in the Wye Valley.

Greeting Nick in the farmyard, we decanted my gear into his 4x4 and made our way through the series of farm gates and electric fences down to the river. It was not quite the dawn start I had hoped for, but with still a hint of twilight remaining it wasn’t exactly a late start and there was still plenty of morning to go at.

Dawn on the Wye - worth an early start

Directly downslope of the field gate is the swim most fished on this beat.  It has spectacular views upstream for almost a mile of river and is well worth an early arrival to watch wisps of mist rising up from the crisp turbulent water.  Downstream the view is equally picturesque, with the river framed by a salmon croy to the left-hand bank, a mature tree to the right and the hillside forestry of the Wye Valley beyond.  The swim is as compelling as the scenery, with a concrete walkway at the near bank constraining the flow, causing the river to narrow and deepen to a couple of metres in depth.  The flow is fast with banks of streamer weed directly upstream, a gravel bottom and a deep pool directly downstream.  A little time spent finding the snag-free gravel patches is well invested but with a little too much flow on, this would not be our swim for today.  Whilst it’s always a banker for a barbel or two, my judgement was that the barbel would likely be holed up in greater numbers elsewhere.

Introducing a few free offerings to build the fish’s confidence with a view to returning later if our first-choice swim didn’t produce, we made our way upstream to the deep slower water towards the top of the beat.  We set up at the top of a steep grass embankment, the river below a dark beckoning calmness punctuated by occasional passing golden leaves.  The slope was wet and slippery, but a small terrace half way down gave a platform from which to, hopefully, play and land the fish between two narrow openings through the bankside bracken.

We planned to keep the approach simple. 60g cage feeders packed with crushed halibut’n’hemp, pellets, hemp and sweetcorn.  4ft leaders terminated with size 10 wide gape hooks, with varying sized pellets from 8 – 14 mm.  Pellets would be introduced by catapult in order to keep a steady flow of bait to tempt the fish from downstream.

Settling in, it was good to take some time to relax and catch up with Nick supplemented by the sizzling sound and scent of bacon on a bankside stove.

Bacon sarnies on a cold morning - worth the 'weight'

It was shortly before 10 am by the time of the first take.  A short thud followed by a determined shake of Nick’s quiver tip and he had connected with the first fish of the day.  Trialing a new reel, the clutch required a little adjustment and the fish had taken some 30 yards of line before the fish was fully under control.  There was little doubt about the fish being a barbel, but it is always a pleasure to be greeted by that first flash of flank, autumnal browns and golds as the fish emerges from the watery depths.  A fin perfect Wye barbel, weighing an ounce under 8lb.

No blanks today! My favourite autumnal colours

With Nick having banked the first of our quarry for the day, I was quickly starting to feel somewhat jealous, but my nerves were settled with two fish of around 5lb in quick succession barely an hour later.  Not big fish by any means, but more than welcome to put that ‘blank-anxiety’ at bay.

4lb 9oz and 5lb 2oz - a great start to the day

  

By now, the weather had started to improve and the autumnal banks were bathed in sunshine.  So far, each round of fish had come about an hour apart, briefly preceded by debate about whether to return to the downstream swim.  And so it continued.  This time it was the gentlest of plucks on Nick’s otherwise static quivertip, followed by a pause and then a determined pull.  This particular fish made very little complaint whilst out in the flow, coming to the bank in a more chub-like fashion.  Catching the Ghillie, who was busy photographing the action, somewhat unawares it took me a moment to reach for the net which had been left upon the bank above.  By the time I had returned and offered the net up to the fish it had woken from its apparent slumber – tearing off from the bank as if it had only just been hooked.  It was some five minutes before the fish would return to be netted at the second time of asking.  The fish weighed a very respectable 7 lb 7 oz, somewhere around average for Autumn fish on this beat.

Biding it's time - check out those paddles!

Notably, all fish so far had been taken on single 8mm pellets or small elips, with not so much as a tug on the rods fished with larger baits.  It’s funny just how fussy barbel can be and I can’t help but wonder whether fishing solely large baits would have resulted in fewer fish banked thus far.

With the afternoon ticking away, we finally took the decision to stray down beat to the swim we had inspected on arrival.  Nick fished the upstream position, whilst I fished under the rod tip against the near bank, a location I’d picked up larger barbel from in the past.  It was mere minutes before the first and only take from the swim.  Seemingly a passing snag,  Nick’s rod slowly and smoothly arched over from tip to butt, with Nick lifting into what he had originally assumed was a nuisance branch.  To his surprise the ‘branch’ swiftly took off downstream in the fast-paced water.  Fish in this swim always give a tremendous fight on account of the quick deep water right under the bank and this was no exception.  There was actually a point where I think Nick was considering ‘calling it a draw’ or at least so I thought from his exasperated bleating about how much his arm ached.  Eventually Nick made enough ground to catch a first glimpse of his quarry.  The fish appeared long and broad from the burnished gold pattern shimmering up from the depths.  Yet the fish was not done by a long shot. We’ve all had those battles with barbel that simply won’t give up and this particular fish just would not roll into the net.  Each and every time the fish was brought to the surface in the well oxygenated current, it would simply turn with a splash and head back off downstream.  Some ten minutes later, Nick appeared very relieved to see the net slipped under his capture.  At 8lb 15 oz it was Nick’s second largest ever barbel and a fish which might have run close to double figures had it had more breadth across the shoulders.

First glimpse...

The swim was only given another ten minutes, as ominous looking dark clouds began to sweep across the river.  Mindful that the bulk of our gear had been left at our original swim without a brolly, we introduced a little more bait for later and scarpered back upstream not quite in time to get brollies up and our gear thrown underneath them.

The Nothing - making a comeback after Never Ending Story...

What followed, I wouldn’t have believed had I not witnessed it first-hand.  As the heavy clouds passed on, a full berth rainbow lit up the sky.  To my amazement, the end of the rainbow was dropping down into the river, some 30 yards downstream and a few metres from the far bank.

With a view like that - who minds rain?

Unable to resist, I loaded a feeder and cast, landing the feeder within a yard of the end of the rainbow.  A second rainbow had since formed outside of the first and I busied myself taking photographs.  Ten minutes later and with the rainbow still painting the spot, my rod arched over and took off over the top of the rest.  Managing to catch the butt just before my trusty Greys Prodigy could wave me a fond farewell, I lifted into the fish which took of rapidly downstream.  Three separate times I tightened the clutch until I daren’t tighten it a click further and not once did it have a moments impact on that first thunderous run.  After perhaps 20 seconds that seemed like an eternity of the fish spooling off line, I managed to turn the fish and it kited from the far bank to mid-river. Gradually I began to make ground, with a little toing and froing for supremacy until the fish was level with me.  With the sun now on the water I was able to see the fish for the first time and watched as it buried its head into a rack of streamer weed.  Instinctively I stepped downstream to avoid the line snagging through the curtain of weed.  The upper hand only lasted a moment as the fish took advantage of my downstream position, turning and bolting down the near side bank.  By now under an overhanging tree, with ample nearside vegetation to dive into on the fishes route back upstream I stepped downstream towards the fish once more, settling in a second small gap in the bracken where I would hope to land her.  As I brought her under the rod tip it was apparent that she was a good fish, both long and thick set.  I looked down in horror… my chosen harbor was occupied by a sunken tree branch.  Twice the fish rolled over it, I felt the line catch and grate across the rigid wood with my heart in my mouth.  And yet it didn’t snag.  The fish didn’t roll behind and under the branch.  Each time she chose to bolt out and away back to the flow until one final time I managed to slip the net under her, my bar of gold from the end of the rainbow.

I secured the net and we both took the opportunity to take a rest, giving the fish the recovery time that her fight both warranted and deserved.  With the rainbow faded away into nothing as if it had given up its secret, and the sky clearing, I lifted the net.  The weight was both apparent at the lifting and even more so as I lay her on the unhooking mat.  She was as broad across the shoulders as any barbel I had ever caught. 

8lb 6 oz was the weight to beat, a modest weight to many but a personal best to me.  The spring loaded... the needle dialed... 9lb 7 oz.  There are no perfect stories, else perhaps that needle might have fallen to not an ounce less than 10lb and my first double, but I was more than happy to take a personal best given up to me by the barbel gods from the end of the rainbow.  

Seek the end of the rainbow - and find a bar of gold...

...all 9lb 7oz of it

Chuffed to bits with a PB - I'll be back in winter when she's carrying another 9oz!

Three more fish followed as the afternoon progressed, each around the 5-6 lb mark.  The third fish tore off even as I was landing the second for my first ever double hook-up.  Unsure of the etiquette of whose fish this should be with Nick stepping across to hook the fish on my rod, we opted to share the fight, Nick starting and finishing it, with me taking a section in the middle.

Barbel-a-plenty

With light now beginning to fade we decided to trade a likely couple of final fish in the deeper water for a chance of a barbel on the float from the lower end of the beat.  In reality we left it a little later than we should have and it was a struggle to track the float in the fading light.  A final fish was not to be, but no matter – it had been a memorable day amongst the seductive and idyllic surroundings of the magical River Wye.

The 'pin  - still awaiting that first float fished barbel...

Are you interested in fishing this beat? If so, tickets for 'White House' can be bought from the Wye and Usk Foundation. Accommodation is available on the neighboring farm, just a two minute walk from the river in the form of five fabulous tipis situated in an apple orchard with beds, linen and BBQ/firepit. Booking and further information can be found here:

https://whitehouseonwye.co.uk/glamping-and-fishing