Blah-Belling - Part 2
MY MIND WENT off on a meander during the last article (absolutely no change there, then!) and it seems I didn't really say what I meant to (no change there, etc, etc) with regard to certain species of fish, and those who specifically fish for them.
Whilst I confessed I have never caught a barbel in my life (I've had some pretty big gudgeon though, much the same aren't they?) perhaps the point I miserably failed to make was that I have no burning desire to do so. I've no doubt that I would enjoy the experience, but I don't feel that even if I were lucky enough to catch one, that it would necessarily 'convert' me into becoming barbel angler.
Perhaps with advancing years comes cynicism, turning the broad minded, narrow hipped youth into a narrow minded, broad hipped old codger, with scant bouts of happiness coming from the security of what you know rather than the uncertainty that goes with seeking out new challenges.
When I spoke last week of the lock keeper showing surprise at my disinterest at barbel fishing, he did let slip that the best plan was to lay down a carpet of bait at the (taps his nose and checks coast is clear before proceeding) 'special spot' then come back later in the day and they would be lined up ready to catch. Now, perhaps it is just me, but that all sounded a bit too much like a piscine version of the dinner bell and Pavlov's dogs to my ears.
Instead of taking his well-intentioned advice, I took myself off upstream to the weir pool and flung spinners, plugs and spoons around all day. I know this is a scattergun approach but whether I catch a four-ounce perch, 12” jack, or even a four-pound chub, it is exactly the uncertainty of what will come out next that provides the kind of excitement I am looking for.
The fact that I am fishing is the most relevant thing to me. What, if anything, I catch is of less importance. And before you all club together to get me a lifetime subscription to 'Waterlog' I do not consider myself to be one of the floppy-hatted, cane swishing tea guzzlers that are imagined to make up the majority of readers of that esteemed publication.
The approach of some, (not all, I hasten to add) anglers these days is not only to target one species of fish above all others, but also, and more specifically, to target the biggest specimen of that species that they can find. It seems to be paramount that the correct tactics are employed to amass the greatest possible weight of fish in the shortest possible time and by expanding the least possible effort, whether physical or mental, in order to obtain 'success'.
Again, I have every respect for those anglers who spent their time thinking about what they are doing to increase their chances of catching fish, whether that is by almost scientific evaluation or the more usual trial and error. To those fisher folk who put the time and thought into their angling belong the spoils, listening to the likes of Andy Nellist at Clattercote you have to admire those guy's dedication to the sport.
For my own part, I cannot get out fishing anything like as often now as I would want to become 'successful'. I have done my share of intense fishing in the past, with a moderate results, but I became convinced that it appears that the more you learn the less you know. Even back in those dim and distant days, any success you had attracted attention at two levels.
On the one hand, you would be approached by those who were interested in what you were doing, who appreciated any information, tactics and sometimes even tackle that was freely given and who then went happily on their way. They showed gratitude for those hints and tips, and you felt a sense of satisfaction in your kind deeds.
And there would be others who came to observe your every action, sucking up every piece of information they could get, fishing as close to you as possible, even on almost deserted venues. There would be those casts that 'mistakenly' land in your swim, and you can be assured that the minute you start to pack up they would be right behind you, urging you to vacate as soon as possible so they could get started*.
It is that kind of instant fishing that seems to drive some (and I stress 'some') barbel anglers today. Hot swims are hogged, waters are syndicated to preserve access to the biggest fish, and all you have to do is buy the 'correct' barbel rod, pile in the requisite hundredweights of halibut pellets, and sit back and await results. If you blank after that it is not your fault, because you have done everything by the book……..
After the last article I have kindly been invited to go barbel fishing by a couple of FM members, and I have to say I am tempted to go, and having broken the tip off one of my Avon rods at Clattercote means I have to buy a replacement, so I can legitimately upgrade to a 'Barbel' rod now. Just not sure whether it should be 1.5, 1.75, 2.0, 2.25, 2.5lb or even floodwater, perhaps best to get one of each, just to be on the safe side.
If I need to fish really heavy I've got a 2.75lb rod, but that says 'Pike' on the butt, so that won't be any good, will it? And if and when I do go fishing for barbel, is it OK to use lobworms for bait, as halibut pellets rather restrict your chances of catching anything other than barbel. Or is that the point?
*I happen to know that water very local to me contains some rather large bream and roach, that I would love to fish for. If I start a concerted pre-baiting campaign, what are the chances that the almost permanently resident (carp) anglers strike camp from their current BBBBBBB (Bivvy, Bed chair, Boilie, Bite alarm, Baitrunner, Barbecue, Beer can) settlement around 100 yards distant and move into my proposed, and currently very empty swim……..?
