August in pictures (mostly)

The early part of the month was lost to work but I had a whole week booked off and set aside for fishing at the end of August and I had some big plans. One advantage of working so much over the first couple of weeks was a bulging bank account and this allowed me to purchase some new rods in the form of a couple of Scope offerings from the Nash stable. At 10ft long they are shorter than the carp rods I'm used to but seeing as most of fishing is on small waters and rivers they seemed a logical purchase.

Obviously I couldn't wait to get out and use them and to this end I had been baiting a couple of swims on my local bit of river soar with Carp and Barbel in mind. Groundbait, boilies, in fact anything I could get my hands on went in over the course of a week or so.

 

The Friday night which signalled the start of my week off finally arrived and I was down the river like a shot. It didn't take long to get a response either, after about an hour my reel went into meltdown. After a solid tussle my first Soar Barbel of the season was banked and at over 9lb it wasn't a bad fish either.

No more action occurred and I was left somewhat puzzled, surely that fish can't have been the only one mopping up all the bait I'd put in? I resolved to visit the area again ASAP. The new rods had behaved well anyway. A day later I was back down and other than a couple of crayfish type knocks nothing happened whatsover.

I needed some fish under my belt so a spot of lure fishing was the order of the day and my next trip to a very misty river soar had me chucking all kinds of bits of wood and metal about.

It was tough going to begin with and I was struggling to coax much of a response from the fish, even the perch weren't obliging. The mist began to burn off and after having a couple of follows on an ondex I decided to weight it to make it run deeper. The response was practically instant and a succession of jacks fell to the lure over the next hour or so. Seemingly every swim I tried had a hungry little croc waiting for me.

The action tailed off as the sun got up proper so I headed home and decided to get the carp gear sorted for an evening trip to a local club water.

This again proved to be hard going although I think a lot of it was self inflicted as I just couldn't settle. I moved three times before I was happy with my swim choice and within an hour I found myself playing a sizeable common, certainly well over 20lb. It weeded me up and after some tense moments I finally had it in open water under the rod tip. Suddenly disaster struck and for some unexplainable reason the hook pulled! Gutted I was and after no more action that trip I decided a return session the following day to even the score was much needed.

I already had an idea where the fish were as they had been showing the night before and and I was well prepared to attack them. It took a while to get some action but after two nice fish in quick succession I felt vindicated for losing the fish the day before.

Whilst down there I got talking to another chap about some lakes a short drive away which I'd not fished before. I didn't need any convincing to go and explore and at first light the following day I was getting lost in Staffordshire looking for a tasty sounding little irrigation pool he'd told me about.

It didn't take too long to find and I was pleasantly surprised at what an attractive little pool it was. The water was crystal clear and the second I walked through the gate I was confronted by two mid-double commons mooching about in the margins. A circuit of the pool revealed quite a few more carp and lots of weed with very few clear spots apparent. I picked a swim and decided to have a lead around to see if I could find anywhere fishable.

Everywhere I cast there was weed but there was one area where it seemed just a little bit thinner and there was just about enough room to squeeze a couple of rods into it. After playing about with a couple of rigs I settled on chod rigs with bright yellow popups and this seemed to do the business as I went on to catch five double figure carp and a bream over the course of the morning aswell as losing three other carp. The colours on the mirrors were stunning.

After a couple of successful days carping I decided to spend the following morning withe dropshot gear back on the soar in a different area for a change. Unlike earlier in the week the Perch were much more obliging and a load of little ones plus a rogue pike were soon landed before the rain descended and I was forced to head for home.

An unsuccessful evening of soar Carbelling followed and other than a tiny chub of about a pound which managed to hang itself I had no action to speak of.

After a conversation with Phil the following day we decided to head to a carp runs water for what would hopefully be a mad day of action as we'd not had a day like that for ages. Earlswoods engine pool was to be our destination and although neither of us had been there before we were well confident of a good bend in the rod.

In the event it proved to be a tricky day and although I managed five Carp to mid doubles I got plagued by bream as I'd made the mistake of filling it in with ground bait. Phil managed a couple of carp but we were later informed by the bailiff that the place had virtually switched off with the majority of other anglers on the lake blanking altogether. One or two others were bagging however and I think the key was bait quantity, it was no coincidence that the guy who was spodding virtually all day caught one after another, bet he was knackered though!

We enjoyed it there anyway and it's certainly another one to remember for some action when times are tough. That pretty much sums up my fishing for August, no big fish action but it was nice to get some action. I'm not overly fussed about the barbel after catching that 14lber the other week so for now I'm content to just get out and enjoy my fishing for a while, certainly until the first frosts arrive anyway and I can embark on my winter chub and pike campaign. I think I'm going to leave the perch alone this year as their pursuit has taken me away from too many other things I've wanted to do over the last couple of years.

Anyway, until next time, tight lines!

 

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July back end

As the title suggests this little update is about my fishing in the latter part of the month. We've been experiencing something of a heat wave of late which, for someone who despises the sun like myself, has made for some pretty uncomfortable fishing.

First up was a session on a new stretch of Trent and although it was a daylight trip I was still hopeful of a barbel as the area is known for producing one or two in the day and recent rain had caused the river to rise and colour up a little.

Small pellet hook baits on fluorocarbon hooklinks were to be my main line of attack and it was apparent from the start that this was highly attractive to the local roach and bream population! No barbel were landed but I did get plenty of bites from a succession of nice roach and a couple of bream.

 

 

My next trip out was an afterwork evening trip to one of my favourite bits of Trent with Phil and the lure rods. After a slowish start we started to get a few however, both opening our accounts with a pike apiece.

At one point I managed to find a real perch hotspot and lost count of how many I caught from it! Every cast was a coconut and I reckon I must've had somewhere around 12-15 from that one swim alone!

In another swim I hooked a very good pike indeed, certainly upper double figures and I realised my net wouldn't be big enough to land it. In these situations I usually glove the fish out but the swim I was in was on a very high bank and I couldn't see an easy way down to it. The fish was well beaten but as I faffed about trying to clamber down to it a final flare of the gills dislodged my tiny lure and it made good it's escape, gutted I was!

Soon it was too dark to carry on and I was well happy with three pike landed and a ruck of perch in just a couple of hours fishing, shame about losing that big one though.

My most recent trip was a late evening rendezvous with some Trent barbel. I didn't arrive at the river till 8pm as with the hot sunshine I didn't see the point in getting there any earlier. I planned to stop till around 12-1am seeing as that covered the hours of darkness when most action seems to occur.

I wasn't to be disappointed either, at bang on 10pm, just into dark and right on cue, I landed my first barbel of the evening at 10b4oz. Another followed exactly and hour later at 11pm which went 10lb12oz and I thought to myself how strange a coincidence it would be if I caught another at midnight.

In the event it was 12.15 when I caught my third and final barbel of the evening and although it very nearly pulled my rod in on the take it proved to be my smallest of the season so far at 6lb4oz, in fact I think it's the smallest I've had from the Trent for a good couple of years, always nice to see the next generation of doubles coming through though.

 

 

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Monsters under a full moon

My most recent night session on the Trent started just like any other, no indications till dusk and then the river came alive. Phil rang me to let me know he'd just taken an early doors barbel from his spot a mile upstream of me and as we talked I noticed a couple of taps on my downstreamer. Within seconds of hanging up, the rod went into meltdown and my first barbel of the evening was duly landed. It was still nearly daylight and the barbel were feeding already, surely this boded well?

 

Darkness soon descended properly, well as properly as it could with the moon being as bright as what it was. If it wasn't a full moon it was near as dammit and I didn't even need my head torch to bait my hook and tie up pva mesh bags. A short while later I had another three foot twitch on the downstreamer and found myself playing another barbel. My chosen swim had no snags or weed so the fish gave me few problems and a nice 9.12 was soon posing for a pic.

Two fish landed within the first hour of darkness was a good result and I started to think I could be on for a good nights fishing. Past experience told me that early action generally means lots of action in the area of Trent that I fish and hopefully that theory would be proven out as the night progressed!

It was around 11.30pm when I received the next bite and upon hitting it I knew it was a good fish. It chugged off downstream on a powerful run and then stopped abruptly and held itself in the powerful current like a dead weight. I almost thought it had picked up a load of weed because it wasn't doing a great deal as I pumped it back upstream towards me. The big nods on the rod tip as it shook its head gave me a few tense moments as I was expecting the hook to pull at any time. I've been using fox ssc hooks and so far I've not had a single hookpull with them but there's always a first time and you can bet your life that time will be when you've got a monster on the line!

Back to the battle and eventually I had the fish underneath the rod tip, I was amazed to see there was no weed on the line whatsoever and that the dead weight was purely the fish! The fish had really woken up now and made a series of short powerful runs, I'd had a good look at it by now and was fully aware of what I was dealing with and I gotta say my heart was in my mouth! The relief of getting the net under it was immense and I paused for a moment to compose myself.

The net felt snagged as I lifted it out of the water due to the weight of the barbel within and there was no doubt in my mind that this was a new PB, the fish was colossal! It's mouth was big enough to swallow a tennis ball and the size 8 hook embedded in its bottom lip looked tiny. I was shaking like a leaf as I hoisted it up on the scales and I wasn't surprised at all when the needle sailed past the 14lb mark. After three weighs to be sure I settled on 14.8, a new PB and a very good fish indeed for the upper Trent, I was over the moon!

I almost never bothered recasting after that as I really didn't feel the need to but seeing as it wasn't even midnight yet I decided to drop it down the edge. It took an age to calm down and get into a sleepy frame of mind but just as I was nodding off my recast rod was away again. A turbo charged 8lber was soon thrashing it's way into the net to give me barbel number 4.

Unbelievably barbel number 5 came to the same rod in the same spot within 10minutes of recasting and was near-on identical in size aswell. Both went 8.10 and 8.12 respectively and after that I decided not to recast that rod as I badly needed sleep!

I must've drifted off eventually because it was starting to get light as I was awoken sharply when my other rod registered a blistering take. This fish pulled in a very similar fashion to the the lump I'd landed earlier and I was tempted to think that maybe , just maybe, lightning had struck twice? I soon got a look at the fish and it was clearly another big one so I began to play it a little more gingerly. A few heartstopping moments later and the landing net did it's job. I was gobsmacked to record a weight of 13.2 which made for easily my biggest brace of barbel ever, what a blinding session!

After that fish I literally packed my rods away and hit the sack as I was too tired to carry on. A few hours later I packed up proper and headed upstream to pick Phil up. Turns out he'd had a good night too landing four barbel including two 11lbers. The fish had certainly fed well, not 100% sure why though? maybe the full moon had something to do with it?

 

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A quick catch-up

Since the first week of the season I've not been out much due to work but I've still managed to snatch a couple of quick trips here and there. An afternoon on the Dove proved to be quite a disappointment as the area I chose appeared to have had an awful lot of pressure in the short time it had been open. Swims were worn to bare earth and several anglers were already roaming the banks when I arrived. Finding a quiet unfished swim was definately not on the cards but seeing I'd driven so far I had to make the best of a bad lot.

I actually managed two bites over the course of the session and landed just one chub of around 4lb for my efforts. More anglers had turned up to replace the afternoon shift as I packed up and I made a mental note to avoid the area like the plague until later on in the year when it becomes a bit quieter.

A Saturday morning lure session on my local river soar was my next bankside adventure and once again it was a little disappointing. I expected the fish to be queuing up seeing as the weather was overcast with a slight drizzle but after failing to tempt a bite in my first couple of swims I was a little puzzled. The area looked like it had seen some serious angling pressure of the wrong kind with empty trace and dead bait packets littering the bank not to mention the beer cans everywhere aswell.

I did find a few perch in the end however but I had to scale down to a tiny mepps no2 to even get a pull. It was pretty tough going but a nice fish of well over a pound brightened things up no end.

 

A night chasing barbel on the Trent was my next port of call and I headed to a new swim which I'd already been and cleared with the strimmer a couple of weeks previously. It's a spot I've had my eye on for a couple of years but the impenetrable foliage always made it a tough proposition. I was in the area clearing swims the other week so I seized my chance to clear it out and now I was ready to try it out.

The recent rain had brought out the flies and mozzies en-mass and just setting up was proving to be a most uncomfortable experience indeed, the bloody things were all over me. A liberal dose of jungle juice seemed to beat them back a bit and soon enough I was settled in for the night.

A massive firework display at a nearby hotel didn't help my cause and it was nearly midnight before I had my first proper bite of the session, a bream of around 6lb.

I drifted in and out of consciousness over the next three hours and had all but given up hope of a barbel. Phil, fishing upstream, had caught a couple so there was a few feeding out there somewhere just not in front of me!

At exactly 3.30am I was jolted into action when my upstreamer suddenly burst into life. This was certainly no bream and after a few dicey minutes I was soon slipping the net under a nice barbel of 9lb2oz.

It was already starting to get light by now and my hopes of another barbel were fast fading. My downstreamer gave me another bream just as the sun was rising and I headed to bed to try and get a couple of hours kip before packup time.

At around 6.30am I had a fast bite on my downstreamer and hit into something unstoppable. Despite my best efforts to make an impression it headed around the corner downstream of me with the power of a truck and the hooklink parted. God knows what it was but it was big and I was gutted at losing it! Soon enough it was time to pack up and I headed home satisfied at finally catching a barbel from the spot I'd drooled over for so long!

 

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First week of the new season part1

Finally the new season was upon us and with it my week off work, how I'd been looking forward to that! I still had a bit of peg strimming to do on the Saturday before but this also gave me chance to check out my fancied area of Trent prior to Sunday nights grand opening. The river still had a tinge of colour from the previous weekends rain and looked bang-on, I couldn't wait to get stuck in!

On Sunday, After a day of prepping tackle and bait it was finally time to get myself down to river and I gotta say I actually had butterfly's in my stomach as I made my way to my swim! It was around an hour before dark so I spent a fair bit of time getting everything sorted tackle-wise and making sure everything was just perfect ready for the big cast-in at midnight.

After watching a couple of DVDs I checked my phone and the magic time was upon me. It wasn't a dark night thanks to the bright moon and soon enough both rods were in position with minimum fuss. Within minutes I had a couple of hefty bangs on the downstream rod before it eventually buckled over. Unfortunately this was no barbel, instead it was the ubiquitous 4lb chub which follows me everywhere but a fish is a fish and I wasn't complaining!

I could hear some hefty splashes out in the darkness as fish crashed nearby and I was well charged up with anticipation. Even so I was still caught a little off guard when the downstream rod signalled a brutal take which actually bounced the rod off the delkim! This was no chub and after a typical turbocharged Trent barbel battle I finally had the net under my first Boris of the new season, well chuffed!

9lb was a great start and I retired to my bedchair a happy man. I must've nodded off because I was suddenly jolted awake by another downstream take. This fish proved to be a pretty decent river bream of 8lb4oz and I was surprised to catch it from such a fast paced, shallow and boily swim.

By now I was pretty knackered so I retired to bed proper and drifted off to sleep until around 4am at first light when a drop back bite registered on my upstream rod. I wound the reel like mad to catch up with the fish and it must've been 10 yards downstream of me before I made contact. The rod hooped over and I commenced battle. This barbel was bigger than the first at 10lb10oz and I was pleased to record my first double of the season.

Shortly after recasting I received another take on the same rod and the fish powered off upstream taking line off the clutch, my excitement was short lived as I felt the line grating on an unseen obstacle just prior to parting. No more action was forthcoming and I packed up with plans to try a different area the following night.

Upon arriving at the new area that evening it was obvious that nobody had been along there for a very long time, the place was overgrown to the point where I almost wasn't going to bother. The sight of a couple of barbel bow-waving across the shallows soon changed my mind however and I got stuck into a likely looking spot with my sturdiest bankstick.

After about 20 minutes of frantic thrashing I had a precarious but fishable swim, the bank was very steep so I would need my wits about me should I hook a fish in the night. Soon enough I was fishing and it wasn't long before darkness began to descend. After a couple of hours I was starting to get a little concerned at the total lack of activity on my rods, I hadn't even had so much as a chub-bang on the tips and I was surprised that my confidence was starting to ebb away rapidly.

The hours of darkness ticked by and eventually I managed to land a couple of chub, that ever faithful 4lber and a smaller sample of around a pound, but the barbel were conspicuous by their absence. I hadn't even heard one crash out in the river which was most unusual for the Trent.

Whilst fishing has a tendency to kick you in the balls when your down there is the odd occasion when it works the opposite way around and tosses you a great big glorious bone when you've all but given up hope. The dawn chorus had just started and the sky was just turning from black to blue when my down streamer hissed away. I found myself in right mess, I accidentally kicked one of my shoes off Into the bushes somewhere as I jumped out of the sleeping bag, my glasses and head torch were nowhere to be seen and the angry barbel on the end of my line was going through every bush and reedbed for 40yards along my downstream margin. All I could do was hold on and try to gain line when I could and it took a good ten minutes to coax the fish back through the foliage into a nettable position. Unfortunately seeing as my glasses had disappeared I couldn't see a thing and I just had to aim the landing net at the white splashy thing against the dark background of the river (yes my eyes really are that bad). It took three attempts but I got there in the end and once safely secured in the net I set about getting myself together.

Glasses, headtorch and shoe recovered I hoisted the fish out of the river and onto the mat. My first thought upon looking at the fish was PB, it was a beast of a fish, a massive frame on it and looked to be easily 14lb+. I was slightly disheartened when the scales spun around to 11lb4oz and had to weigh it a couple of times to be sure. Upon picking it up for the photos however it was obvious the fish was freshly spawned out, its belly was really soft and the fish felt hollow. Oh well, still a quality fish and one I wouldn't mind catching again in a few months when it's back up to its fighting weight!

That was to be the only action for the rest of the session and I decided to head to yet another area for my next trip the following night.

That day I started to get a bit of a tickle in my throat but didn't think much of it until I got fishing that evening. By then a sore throat and cough had kicked in and I was starting to get a little feverish and I was in two minds whether to pack up or not but seeing as I'd given Phil a lift and he was fishing away upstream I decided to put up with it. That night proved to be a bit of a nightmare, I was desperate to get some sleep but the small barbel and chub seemed to be on the rampage and I managed three barbs between 5lb and 7lb4oz and not a wink of shuteye!

 

Finally daylight was upon us and I was just nodding off when my phone rang and it was Phil asking me to come and photograph something special for him. I headed upstream and Phil lifted the fish out of the water and placed it on the mat. Make no mistake this fish was a proper chunk all 14lb of it! There was no soft bits and hollowness on this fish it was as solid as they come. A new pb for him and a fantastic capture, well done bud!

By then whatever illness had befallen me had really taken hold and I felt like I'd been run over by a truck, my bed at home beckoned urgently and Phil and I decided a night off the fishing the following evening would be a good idea.

After sleeping most of the day I felt much better that evening and after speaking to Phil we decided to have a break from the barbs and head out for a relaxing day with the lure gear the next morning..................

 

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Broken rods, Barbel and end of another season

So, the end of the river season is upon us once again! Just as everything seems to be coming right weather and temperature-wise the carrot of plenty is cruelly snatched away leaving us somewhat wanting.

I had a couple of days booked off work and my intention was to spend my last few trips in pursuit of one last giant of a Perch. As ever though the weather intervened but not in the usual rainy and floody way, this time the weather got too warm and sunny! With daytime temps hitting 17.5degrees at one point I struggled through two blank sessions and started to get a bit twitchy. The weather really wasn't great for big perch on my local bits of river and with time rapidly drawing to a close I decided to switch to chub and barbel in a bid to put something on the bank.

Whilst the weather is very springlike, under the waters surface everything is still in winter mode. The water itself is still very cold and, on my local rivers at least, they were still carrying extra colour and water from the rain of the not too distant past. Location would be absolutely critical if I was to have any hope of putting a barbel on the bank.

After much thought I decided upon a swim I'd caught barbel from in cold conditions in the past as I figured it would be a good starting point. With the extra colour in the water I opted for luncheon meat coated in curry powder on one rod and a paste wrapped boilie on the other. Once everything was in place I sat back to await events and I have to admit, I wasn't confident!

The afternoon soon turned to evening without any bites to speak of although a sizeable fish did roll just downstream of my swim just as it got dark which gave me a little confidence. An hour into darkness and the meat rod signalled a twitchy drop back and I wound down into a hard fighting Chub which tipped the scales at a pleasing 4.12, at least something was feeding!

 

After returning the fish I noticed the air temperature had dropped significantly and wasn't helped by the cold wind, it was bloody freezing! Like an idiot I had decided to leave my salopettes in the car earlier when it was sunny and warm and I was certainly suffering for it now! My teeth chattered and it became a real war of attrition as I fought the urge to pack up and head back to the warmth of home.

By nine o'clock I really wasn't enjoying myself and was all but ready to go when suddenly the fishing gods decided to throw me a bone. The meat rod went into meltdown and I struck into something that pulled back a little too much to be a chub. After a few tense moments when it snagged me up I was most relieved to slide the net under a small but very welcome Barbel, mission accomplished!

 

That was my signal to pack up because I genuinely couldn't feel my fingers after that! Before I went though I baited the swim with the intention of returning the next evening.

The next day I arrived at the river and it looked dead, not even any small fish topping which was unusual. As expected nothing happened in daylight and at around 7.30, an hour into dark, I received a savage take on the meat rod. A fairly uneventfully tussle ensued and I netted a pretty decent looking chub. At 5.12 it was a good fish and I was more than happy with it.

Now I've spent many many hours out in the countryside on my own in the hours of darkness and I'm well accustomed to the various noises and things that happen out there at night but this evening Whilst photographing the fish I had the weirdest feeling I was being watched. I couldn't put my finger on it but I suddenly felt very uneasy. My swim was surrounded by dead nettles for many yards in all directions and I couldn't move without snapping and cracking my way through them so you can imagine my startlement when I heard what sounded like someone walking through them towards me. I stood up and shone my torch in the direction, nothing there yet I still felt I was being watched from somewhere, the air had gone very still and cold too. I was well spooked now and decided to get the hell out of there!

As I hurriedly packed up I could suddenly hear the twigs cracking again further along the bank, so armed with a bankstick I went to investigate, once again nothing there. Jesus this was like the flaming Blair witch project! I chucked my gear on my back and quickly headed away from the river out into the open field beyond and straight across the middle towards the car. As I walked I became aware of footsteps in the grass nearby, at first I thought it was my own, echoing in the still night air, but it quickly became apparent it wasn't. I stopped and could hear the grass rustling as if someone was walking nearby, Im sure I was on the verge of a heart attack as I swung my head torch all around fully expecting to see a shadowy figure about twenty yards away!

I could clearly see 70-80 yards in all directions and there was nothing there, fortunately my light reflected off the car parked up a short distance away. I practically threw my gear inside it and drove up that lane like a champion rally driver!

The next day I decided to spend a morning having a wander and chucking some lures about. My local stretch of the soar was still colored somehow despite the level being well down, it's as good a place as any for some lure action so that was where I fished.

I started by using a 3in kopyto shad bumping it slowly across the bottom but visibility wasn't great, prob around 12inches, and I blamed that for not getting any takes! After about 30 blank minutes I decided to switch to my pike setup with a 20cm real eel on it. This too was short lived because I snagged up and whilst I was trying to free the lure there was a resounding crack as my rod snapped in two!

Looks like I was just fishing light lures on my other setup then. Back out went the kopyto and straight away I had a hefty tug on it but the fish let go again and try as I might I couldn't get another pickup.

A change of stretch was called for and upon arriving there was a chap already fishing and just about to land a small pike. After giving him a hand I got down to some fishing of my own. After a dozen fruitless casts in a swim I knew full well held perch I decided to switch to a Mepps to prove the fish were there. Sure enough I had two perch in two casts and missed several other taps and bangs aswell.

Back out went the kopyto, nothing . I switched to a dropshot rig with a fox rage mini fry on. A couple of bangs on my first cast and I thought I'd cracked it. Nothing happened on any subsequent casts so I gave in and put the Mepps back on. Once again I caught one straight away!

The rest of the morning passed fairly uneventfully until near the end when I had a jack literally beach itself to hit the lure but it missed it and then a couple of swims later I nailed another jack which actually stayed on.

I was quite annoyed I'd had to resort to a Mepps to catch once again but in hindsight I guess the clarity of the water meant that the Mepps was much more visible to the fish and therefore more likely to get hit.

Well, that's another one done, next time I fish a river it will be in its full summer glory and hopefully the fish will be way more obliging than they have been of late. A couple of weekends off now and then bream and tench it is!

 

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Quick session success

After last weeks success obviously I was keen to get down again to try and pick up where I left off. My only chance to get out this weekend was on Saturday evening and I got to the river for about 5pm. We'd had a little rain over the last couple of days but even so I was surprised to find the river carrying nearly a foot with a fair bit of colour in it. I really didn't think we'd had enough rain to make any difference. The stretch was also unusually busy, in fact I've never seen so many down there! I decided to head away from the crowds and create a new swim a field or so downstream.

Once fishing I quickly found that the dreaded drifting weed was back with a vengeance and recasting every 15-20 mins was soon starting to wear a little thin. A bite just before dark resulted in a huge framed Chub and I was genuinely shocked when the needle on the scales only went around to 4.12. It was a monster and looked way heavier than what it was.

As darkness fell I was getting getting so fed up with the weed and debris coming down the river I contemplated an early packup. In the end I decided to just leave the bait out there and see what happened and as it turned out I didn't have to wait too long. A hefty tug followed by a one noter on the delkim saw me connected to a Barbel which absolutely stripped the line off the clutch . After kicking about in the flow downstream for a minute or so it seemed to give up and I pumped it upstream and straight Ito the waiting net. At 7lb8oz I think it's the smallest I've had this season but it was still very welcome given the tough conditions.

 

 

An hour later and I was hooked into something altogether more substantial. It did the upstream battle thing so I knew it was a decent fish and once near the net It didn't seem to want to give up. I struggled a little as the flow kept sweeping the net away but I managed to scoop the fish out eventually. This one went 11lb2oz and seeing as I didn't fancy battling the weed any longer it rounded my session off nicely. The Trent seems to be really switching on at the moment and I can't wait to get back down as soon as possible!

 

 

 

 

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The magic of the mighty Trent

After last weeks taster I was keen to get down to the Trent again to pick up where I left off. All week at work I had been contemplating where I should go on the Friday night and I eventually settled on a theoretical swim I'd spotted last time out. I say theoretical because it wasn't actually a swim, in fact I had my doubts as to whether I'd even be able to make one there but there was only one way to find out, go down and try.

Friday arrived but Disaster struck on the way home from work. I had knocked off early with the intention of giving myself time for some swim creation but my car dashboard decided to light up like a Xmas tree meaning it was rather poorly. I limped it to the nearest garage and it turned out my alternator was kaput and they couldn't get another till Monday. This meant I had to wait for the wife to finish work so I could nick her car, I was going fishing no matter what.

Obviously all this delay meant I didn't get riverside till late and when I did I headed straight to the overgrown wood where I wanted to fish. Unfortunately, after about 30 mins of whacking down nettles, clambering over fallen trees and fighting Himalayan balsam I still couldn't even get near the waters edge let alone to where I wanted to be. The light was beginning to fade and I simply couldn't waste any more time in the woods, I left to find somewhere to setup promising I would be back with the Brushcutter and chainsaw to settle the score.

I'd already eyed up a couple of possible swims on my way up and after a brief pause in each I settled on a fairly featureless spot but I liked the way the flow pulled through, it had a certain 'look' to it.

The swim was a lot shallower than I thought it would be and seemed to be a level 3ft deep all over and quite weedy with a few rocks thrown in for good measure. I didn't put a great deal of bait out just boilies via PVA mesh bags nicked onto the hook. One rod went along the upstream margin and the other downstream, I was finally fishing!

It was dark by now and i set about making some supper in the form of a pot noodle and a cup of tea. As I sat there enjoying the food of the gods I had a couple of bleeps on the upstreamer before everything fell slack, blimey! A take! I quickly tightened down into the fish and was almost disappointed to feel a most unbarbel-like resistance on the end. My initial thoughts were of a Carp as it felt too heavy to be a Chub but lacked the raw speed and power of a Barbel. In less than a minute I could see the outline of a fish ready for netting in the water at my feet and upon switching the head torch on I was pleased to see it WAS actually a Barbel and a goodun at that! At 11lb2oz it was a great start and considering it wasn't much past 8pm there was plenty of lovely darkness left in which to catch some more.

 

 

The slugs had got to the rest of my pot noodle by the time I returned the fish so I had to make do with a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar. At around 10pm I started getting the odd bleep again on my upstreamer, something was sniffing around. 10 minutes later the reel went into meltdown as a fish decided it wanted to head up to Donnington faster than one of the cars on the racetrack there! This one certainly pulled well and considering that 90% of the battle took place upstream of me it had to be a good fish. A cracker of 11lb10oz was soon lying on the mat and I was well pleased, early doors fish are always welcome and if they're bigguns aswell its an even better bonus!

 

 

They were obviously having it and the hefty splashes out in the darkness told me there was a good few about too. I joked on Facebook about the possibility of making it a hat-trick of 11lbers and within minutes I had a one-noter on the downstream rod. I was actually gobsmacked when the scales spun around to 11lb9oz, that was the hat-trick then!

 

 

Another couple of bites over the next hour or so gave me a 4lb Bream and a lost fish which also felt suspiciously like a Bream. It was midnight now and I was getting quite tired yet the prospect of continuing action was too much to resist and I fished on.

I must've nodded off because I was suddenly jolted up by another screamer. This one pulled harder than any of its predecessors and led me a merry dance all over the place. As I lifted the net out of the water I stunned to find another double figure fish in there, the Trent was on fire tonight! 10lb15oz was its number and as I returned it my other rod bucked over and I found myself connected to another decent Barbel.

This one went 10lb12oz and after putting it back I sat there in a bit of a daze. This was certainly the best Barbel trip in terms of double figure fish I'd ever had and it was certainly a great result for the upper Trent. I really can't think of another river which, as it stands right now, could produce fish of that stamp in those numbers. The Severn perhaps and maybe one or two of the smaller southern rivers could do it at a push but I think the Trent, along its full length, contains more double figure Barbel than any other river in the country. A bold statement perhaps and I'm sure someone will disagree but I challenge anyone to prove any different.

 

 

 

Back to the session anyway, by now I was cream-crackered and although I was more than confident of catching more I decided that getting some sleep was more important. My results had already exceeded my expectations so I opted to keep the baits out of the water for the rest of the night and get my head down.

I awoke at exactly 6.30 and got recast still hopeful of another fish at least. With daylight though the Barbel had melted away and I never had so much as a tap. It was my wedding anniversary and I'd already promised the wife a days shopping in Derby so it was soon time to get packed up. As I did so my downstream rod was nearly pulled in! I grabbed it and found myself connected to a rather acrobatic Trout of around a couple of pounds, its amazing how hard they pull for their size! It was a happy end to a wonderful session.

 

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