Saturday morning began as Friday evening had ended; wet, windy and with Pete catching barbel. By 5:00am there were shadowy figures moving around the camp as unshaven and slightly dishevelled anglers began, in dribs and drabs, to move towards the river, rods and tackle in hand.
Pete and I had arranged to fish together and within five minutes of casting, and before we'd even had a chance to begin feeding the swim, Pete's rod was hooped over as he and a barbel engaged in a spirited game of tug of war. The barbel sat deep and used a combination of its own and the current's power, but after a few minutes the fish was Pete's. Quickly admired, photographed and returned, the day couldn't have started any better.
Meanwhile, downstream by the bridge, in shallower water, John McAngus (the use of surnames an unfortunate necessity in a group which included two "Johns" and a "Jon"!) caught four or five smaller barbel of about 3 or 4 pounds in successive casts, and Jez and Loz both caught several mini barbel of about half a pound in weight, perfection in minature. One of our number, John Rellie, had shown devotion to the sport that went beyond the realm of duty and drove offsite at midnight on Friday before returning, fuelled by a KFC, to fish all night but although he caught some nice chub, no barbel rewarded his dedication.
At 10 o'clock we wound our rods in and reassembled in the gazebo for a welcome hot breakfast of bacon rolls accompanied by coffee. Breakfast was followed by a Bible study, and although Scripture states that it "rains on the just and the unjust", the weather cleared and seemed for a moment to reflect the less Biblical, but commonly quoted aphorism, that states that the "sun shines on the righteous." We discussed the story of Jesus calling his first fishermen disciples in Matthew 4, and at least one angler described the Bible study as the highlight of the weekend. (at this point it's important to add that he was an angler who caught barbel, so our time of fellowship and study wasn't being "damned with the faintest of praise"!)
Following the Bible study angling was resumed, but mostly in a less focused and more light-hearted manner. David and Keith resolutely continued to set out their stall for "barbel or bust", but most of us took a break from sitting behind rods pointed skywards and spent the time trotting or swimfeeding with maggots. Roy caught bleak a plenty trotting a stick float, and I had an immensely pleasurable couple of hours in which I trotted a small 2BB perch bob and caught 30-40 perch, beautiful examples of their species, bright green backs, dark stripes and lovely red fins and probably averaging about 4 ounces. The procession of perch was interrupted by the occasional bleak, gudgeon or small chublet.
We broke off from the fishing for an early "tea", burgers, onions and all the usual accoutrements of a traditional fisherman's meal (ie. an excess of things that taste nice and almost inevitably lead to heart disease!), told fishy tales, exchanged tips and tactics and teased Roy about his bleak catching prowess.
After tea, the quest for barbel was resumed in earnest. One or two had been briefly encountered and lost during daylight (Keith proving particularly unlucky), but we knew that as evening drew in and dusk fell that our chances would increase. I set up in a swim downstream (as it turned out, an error of tactical judgement) and shared a swim with Jez and a flotilla of visiting ducks.
The only fish that Jez and I saw was a chub that happened upon Jez's swimfeedered luncheon meat, and apart from one twitch and bleep my bait remained untroubled by fish. However, the conversation and the chance to catch up with Jez made up for the absence of fish falling to our rods.
Elsewhere on the river, especially in a small concentration of upstream swims barbel were being caught. Not in large numbers, but odd fish were finding their way to the bank. John MacAngus had the pick of the captures with a barbel just ounces under 10 pounds, Loz (who had never previously caught a barbel managed a brace) and David also banked a good fish. Predictably, Pete also found himself among the barbel, his being the only one to come from one of the shallower downstream swims.
The weather continued in the capricious and changeable vein that had marked the weekend, driving rain giving way to light showers, giving way to sunny spells, all resulting in a rather spectacular double rainbow decorating the early evening sky, a reminder both of God's faithfulness and sheer artistic flair. The weather also provided us with the weekend's biggest drama, when a tree creaked, groaned, split and crashed spectacularly to the ground, landing with a thump on the chair that 30 seconds earlier David had been sitting on. I was standing at the top of the bank and saw the trunk split, shouted a warning that led to David adroitly leaping aside, leading to a ton of tree missing him by just a few feet. Had he not moved .... well, let's just say that I might have picked up some funeral business that I would much rather not have had to pick up!
By the end of the evening our barbel count had grown, and four of our number had shared 11 barbel (not including the clutch of small ones of under a pound that Jez and Loz caught earlier in the day), with most of the rest of us with chub to our name, and the occasional nuisance eel.
A wonderful day that had begun with fishing for barbel and moved cyclically from there through breakfast, Bible study, general "fun fishing" and barbeque back to barbel, ended with hot drinks and a prayer in the gazebo, before retreating to our tents.
I discovered the next morning that I was not the only person whose sleep had been sporadically disturbed by dreams that centred around trees landing on tents.
Pete and I had arranged to fish together and within five minutes of casting, and before we'd even had a chance to begin feeding the swim, Pete's rod was hooped over as he and a barbel engaged in a spirited game of tug of war. The barbel sat deep and used a combination of its own and the current's power, but after a few minutes the fish was Pete's. Quickly admired, photographed and returned, the day couldn't have started any better.
Meanwhile, downstream by the bridge, in shallower water, John McAngus (the use of surnames an unfortunate necessity in a group which included two "Johns" and a "Jon"!) caught four or five smaller barbel of about 3 or 4 pounds in successive casts, and Jez and Loz both caught several mini barbel of about half a pound in weight, perfection in minature. One of our number, John Rellie, had shown devotion to the sport that went beyond the realm of duty and drove offsite at midnight on Friday before returning, fuelled by a KFC, to fish all night but although he caught some nice chub, no barbel rewarded his dedication.
At 10 o'clock we wound our rods in and reassembled in the gazebo for a welcome hot breakfast of bacon rolls accompanied by coffee. Breakfast was followed by a Bible study, and although Scripture states that it "rains on the just and the unjust", the weather cleared and seemed for a moment to reflect the less Biblical, but commonly quoted aphorism, that states that the "sun shines on the righteous." We discussed the story of Jesus calling his first fishermen disciples in Matthew 4, and at least one angler described the Bible study as the highlight of the weekend. (at this point it's important to add that he was an angler who caught barbel, so our time of fellowship and study wasn't being "damned with the faintest of praise"!)
Following the Bible study angling was resumed, but mostly in a less focused and more light-hearted manner. David and Keith resolutely continued to set out their stall for "barbel or bust", but most of us took a break from sitting behind rods pointed skywards and spent the time trotting or swimfeeding with maggots. Roy caught bleak a plenty trotting a stick float, and I had an immensely pleasurable couple of hours in which I trotted a small 2BB perch bob and caught 30-40 perch, beautiful examples of their species, bright green backs, dark stripes and lovely red fins and probably averaging about 4 ounces. The procession of perch was interrupted by the occasional bleak, gudgeon or small chublet.
We broke off from the fishing for an early "tea", burgers, onions and all the usual accoutrements of a traditional fisherman's meal (ie. an excess of things that taste nice and almost inevitably lead to heart disease!), told fishy tales, exchanged tips and tactics and teased Roy about his bleak catching prowess.
After tea, the quest for barbel was resumed in earnest. One or two had been briefly encountered and lost during daylight (Keith proving particularly unlucky), but we knew that as evening drew in and dusk fell that our chances would increase. I set up in a swim downstream (as it turned out, an error of tactical judgement) and shared a swim with Jez and a flotilla of visiting ducks.
The only fish that Jez and I saw was a chub that happened upon Jez's swimfeedered luncheon meat, and apart from one twitch and bleep my bait remained untroubled by fish. However, the conversation and the chance to catch up with Jez made up for the absence of fish falling to our rods.
Elsewhere on the river, especially in a small concentration of upstream swims barbel were being caught. Not in large numbers, but odd fish were finding their way to the bank. John MacAngus had the pick of the captures with a barbel just ounces under 10 pounds, Loz (who had never previously caught a barbel managed a brace) and David also banked a good fish. Predictably, Pete also found himself among the barbel, his being the only one to come from one of the shallower downstream swims.
The weather continued in the capricious and changeable vein that had marked the weekend, driving rain giving way to light showers, giving way to sunny spells, all resulting in a rather spectacular double rainbow decorating the early evening sky, a reminder both of God's faithfulness and sheer artistic flair. The weather also provided us with the weekend's biggest drama, when a tree creaked, groaned, split and crashed spectacularly to the ground, landing with a thump on the chair that 30 seconds earlier David had been sitting on. I was standing at the top of the bank and saw the trunk split, shouted a warning that led to David adroitly leaping aside, leading to a ton of tree missing him by just a few feet. Had he not moved .... well, let's just say that I might have picked up some funeral business that I would much rather not have had to pick up!
By the end of the evening our barbel count had grown, and four of our number had shared 11 barbel (not including the clutch of small ones of under a pound that Jez and Loz caught earlier in the day), with most of the rest of us with chub to our name, and the occasional nuisance eel.
A wonderful day that had begun with fishing for barbel and moved cyclically from there through breakfast, Bible study, general "fun fishing" and barbeque back to barbel, ended with hot drinks and a prayer in the gazebo, before retreating to our tents.
I discovered the next morning that I was not the only person whose sleep had been sporadically disturbed by dreams that centred around trees landing on tents.
admire,nice day,good fishing
ReplyDeleteshaddockfishing