I usually associate September with heavy rain, muddy banks, lobworms and breaking out the waterproofs to find the mice have been at them, but this year the early Autumn has stayed largely dry in the North West.
I love Autumn barbel fishing and embrace the twin challenges of increasing water flow and falling temperatures, but so far the only change is a slight nip in the air, with the trees showing the only evidence of the seed change occurring.
Following the crazy summer we just had, with record high temperatures and drought conditions, who knows what this Autumn and Winter will bring? Although September hasn’t called for the thermals and flask so far, nature usually has a way of balancing things out; maybe after the scorcher it could be pay-back time!
I’m pleased to report I have had another very enjoyable month by the rivers and my luck from the summer seems to be continuing. This month I have been blessed with a few lovely fish, including a new Barbel pb, so if you have a few minutes spare please read on.
07.09.18 Upper Trent
I made my way to the upper Trent, enjoying the last of the summer sun as I travelled across the Peak District, with the intentions of exploring a new section of the river I have had my eye on for a while (and fishing if I liked the look of it!). My back-up plan was to head for familiar territory, and as luck would have it I got stuck behind a tractor, spat my dummy out and plumped for the first venue I came to which just happened to be my usual stretch.
There was just one pleasure angler in residence so I had the pick of the barbel swims; I headed for a favourite of mine post haste. On arrival I noticed the water was up slightly but absolutely gin clear, and I could see every stone on the river bed right across to my usual casting line; the conditions just didn’t suit the swim, so I turned around and went for a much deeper location a few hundred yards upstream. This features a substantial depth change from 1.5m to 3.5m over a short distance of the river course, and I have always fancied it ought to be a flyer. Unfortunately it has always frustrated me and having fished it a few times over the past few years I have yet to hook a Barbel, but being ever the optimist I thought maybe today was the day!
After a good lead around I chose 2 areas, both over a bed of gravel and small stone. The first was a 35m upstream cast to the foot of the slope where the river deepened, for this I choose a 1.75lb test rod, light enough that the current acting on the line would still put a bend in it, which I find gives a better indication when a drop-back bite occurs. I have missed upstream bites in the past using heavier rods, not so much from Barbel which usually give a good old rattle, but from small silver fish which have been hooked and gone un-noticed, which in effect takes the rod out of commission.
This first swim was getting baited up with the Spomb, a couple of pints of hemp, a handful of mixed small pellet and a few coarsely crushed boilies, finished with a glug of krill liquid. I have no idea if these liquids really make any difference, but they give me a confidence boost so I keep using them. As the autumn approaches and water temperatures inevitably drop, I will reduce my free baiting substantially, but for now the fish are still active; chub, bream and roach all eat their fill and I like to hope there will be enough left for the Barbel later on.
Downstream on the same flow line I decided to use a swimfeeder, one of my home-made specials; no other feed required as they are a decent size.
I didn’t cast in until late afternoon and I was surprised not to be getting the usual small chub and roach activity. In fact my first indication was from a 6oz roach just before dusk, which was a bit worrying. A couple of small chub did turn up as it went dark, then they disappeared just as quickly, so I took the opportunity to empty out a season’s worth of dirt from my rod bag and to swap the rigs to freshly tied coated braid hooklengths.
At 1am I was alerted by a single aggressive knock on the rod top of my upstream rod, just enough to make me get up from my chair and have a good stare, which was just as well because it suddenly went West at some speed, baitrunner and delkim screaming in unison. I quickly grabbed the rod and was attached to a determined force speeding toward the far bank. I was glad I had swapped over to the heavier hooklengths now as I had to really put the brakes on. Fortunately everything held and I was able to coax the fish to mid river. It was a stubborn fight, 3 nerve shredding runs away from the net back to mid river before I finally got her head up and over the rim. I was almost disappointed when I finally weighed her at 10lb6oz considering the intensity of the fight, but she was a beautiful looking fish so I admonished myself for my negative thoughts.
After a quick sleep I chucked the rods back out at first light, and was nodding in my pit when I had another screaming take, this time on the downstream feeder rod. After grabbing the rod and feeling the sheer power of the fish I was convinced I was attached to one of the big girls that are rumoured to patrol this stretch, but after a few seconds something didn’t feel quite right. Five minutes later I had the fish under my bank and I was shaking with the effort I had put in. I began to think the fish was foul hooked, but when I finally coaxed it to the bank the problem revealed itself; a bloody huge clump of weed all around the rig adding a kilo or 2 to the weight I was winding in! I noticed the float stop I habitually attach to the main line above the feeder had been pushed right up, so I suspect it had been snagging on the way in, but the fish was still able to make its runs as normal, plus as it was wound in it hit the ball of weed and that’s what gave it its misleading mass.
It was all very confusing, but it was a fish in the net, a broad daylight capture too, quite a rarity for me on this stretch so I had to be pleased overall. It was another well-conditioned barbel; I didn’t weigh it but estimated around 8lb.
At that point I packed up and headed for the café for a well-earned ‘full English’
14.09.18 Upper Trent
I was on my lonesome this week so I was determined to check out the new stretch I had attempted to visit last week. I walked the whole length and liked the look of it so decided to give it a try. It was lovely and overcast in the afternoon, but later the clouds broke and it became very warm and sunny, despite showers being forecast for the evening. The river was a foot up but clear as tap water; with the bright conditions it wasn’t going to be easy.
After an exploratory cast around I found 2.5-3m of decent flow over a gravel and stone bottom, with the main flow on my side of the river. The margin was quite rocky, so with that in mind I chose a line a little further out, maybe 20m just to be on the safe side.
I fed my upstream lie with some hemp, but reduced the pellet content to just a small handful, and crushed the boilies to fine pieces. I had a feeling the recent cold nights might have lowered the water temperature so I didn’t want to overfeed, but the idea seemed crazy as I sat sweltering in just a t shirt.
I gave the swim a good rest, and then cast a straight lead rig over the upstream bait carpet. Downstream I fished a large feeder with krill based homemade groundbait; I was tempted to go light with just a straight lead and pva bag, but resisted the urge because the particle approach had been so effective for me the last few months.
I soon had problems with streamer weed floating down-river, not sure if the swans were pulling it up further upstream, or if it was just dying off due to the season, but it was a right pain building up on the line until it dislodged the rigs. This was a big no-no; the leads could roll until they hit a gap in the stones and get stuck fast, so I had no choice but to stay focussed and keep removing the weed from the line every 20 mins or so, not the best recipe for a relaxing night! I also started to get a lot of attention from chublets and dace throwing themselves on the hook; as mentioned last week it takes the rig out of the game if they go un-noticed, and yet another good reason to stay on the ball.
One positive result was it kept the feeder rod working and maintained the 20 minute cycle to ensure some feed was always around the hookbait; the upstream rod was left to its own devices, and it’s quite possible most of the initial feed had been decimated by the mass of small fish by the evening, but I resisted a second feeding barrage for fear of disturbing the swim, and just settlied for a few catapulted boilies.
Given the above factors it was a long night of nursing the rigs, but mercifully the weed died down around 11pm, and the small chub were replaced by less frequent larger specimens. I’m not sure why but the chub in these parts are really scruffy looking things, nothing like their handsome cousins a few miles upstream in the Dove.
At 3am I had a rip-roaring take on the feeder rod. I was on it in a couple of seconds but such was the speed of the fish it had taken a fair bit of line heading downstream. I wound down hard and felt a few worrying pings on the line, and I thought at the time it might have got stuck on something midway between me and the fish, maybe weed, but I kept winding. Suddenly the line seemed to pull free and I was in direct contact with something substantial that was moving across the river toward the far bank trees. It had to be stopped and I applied pressure until it kited upstream and held station mid river.
Last week I’d had an 8lb Barbel on a similar heavy feeder set-up, and with a build-up of weed on the line it gave the impression of it being a lot larger than it actually was; I had a nagging suspicion that this could be the same scenario, that is until the fish decided it was going back downstream and exerted some enormous and sustained pressure on the rod that had the fairly tight clutch clicking out line at a rate of knots. I felt like a trawlerman with a nuclear sub caught in its net!
Surely it had to be a big fish with that kind of power I assured myself. By now my arm was really feeling it, but I couldn’t afford to give it any freedom to get up a head of steam, so I kept the pressure on and slowly but surely gained line, until finally I could see the feeder, and in the clear water I caught my first glimpse of a substantial fish.
I felt a twinge of anxiety at that point; was the hook hold good enough? I was confident the coated braid was up to the job, provided I could keep it out of the abrasive rocks in the margin. Plenty of force got the fish up in the water and I worked hard to keep it there and out of trouble. A couple of determined pulse raising runs back to mid river were dealt with, then finally she rose in the light of the headtorch and I gratefully eased her into the net. What a relief!
After a long rest in the margins (and a much needed breather for myself) I lifted her to the mat; at that moment I was sure I had dented my pb, but the scales would be the test, and they read a glorious 14lb5oz, eclipsing my 13lb12oz August best from the tidal Trent! Personally I think a big fish takes more catching from the upper anyway, so I would have still classed her as a better fish than the tidal one.
I was ecstatic and a little in awe of her (even though my face doesn’t show it), I was more concerned about getting a good photo and getting this magnificent creature safely back to the water as quickly as I could.
The rest of the night passed without incident, not even a chub to disturb the peace, but I couldn’t have cared less. In the dawn light I packed up with a smile on my face and the 70 mile drive home (via the usual celebratory ‘full English’ at the ‘nosebag’) has never seemed so enjoyable.
22.09.18 Mid Ribble
With limited opportunities this weekend due to the vagaries of the NHS, I grabbed what time I could and headed for the Ribble, a couple of feet up and coloured, but on the drop and clearing fast. The rise had thrown up quite a few nice fish for those fortunate enough to have timed it right, but I had a feeling I might have missed the party.
I went for a recce to 2 other stretches before settling on an old favourite of mine that features a few decent flood swims. I got the one I wanted but was surprised to have to clear the vegetation to be able to fish it. Obviously it hasn’t been touched during the dry summer, but todays conditions made it a good shout for a few fish.
I just stuck with the feeder and boilie approach on the upstream rod, a 20m cast to the crease between the main flow line and an inside slack area. Downstream, the swim opens out into a big deep pool so I decided to cover the area by casting to various locations, fishing straight lead with halibut ellipse pellet and small pva bags, a tactic usually reserved for the cold winter sessions, but I fancied it might just work today.
It was a reasonably busy afternoon with 3 small barbel, a fair few chub and a couple of nice roach around the pound mark, all bar one fish came to the downstream pellet rod which showed my hunch was about right.
Unfortunately I didn’t bother with photos because the fish were just average in size, but writing this blog I wished I had made the effort now, as it all looks a bit plain, so apologies for that.
The rain held off and the sun shone until dusk, but then, for the first time a noticeable sign of changing seasons, the temperature plummeted from 18C to 6C! I stayed till 9pm but as soon as it went dark the fishing switched off abruptly, coincident with a visit from an otter that swam past just under my feet.
Despite the cold it was a lovely place to sit and ponder life’s complexities, with a few fish providing a happy distraction, and as a bonus it was nice to drive home and sleep in my own bed, as opposed to my recent overnighters in a bedchair.
Due to a last minute whim I was off to the sea side for the last week of September, so this proved to be my final session of what was a good month on the angling front, not so good on a personal level but that’s another story.
Tight lines
Dave
Barbel Crazy 