When going fishing on a weekend I usually take my radio and listen to the football but there was none on so instead I listened to many a glowing tribute to The Queen and some cracking anecdotes from people who have met her as I made my way to the river.
En route I passed a parked police car with it's blues flashing trying to apprehend two cygnets on a busy road, I know you could get moved on for loitering but not swanning around. I imagined the Queen would have been entertained at the thought of two of her swans occupying the local constabulary, it did raise a smile as I slowly drove past.
It had been a while since I had trotted pellet and I wondered if the fish would be on it still as the sound of children in the playing field could be heard in the distance, kicking a ball about carefree to what's going on in the world and who could blame them. Everywhere seemed a sea of green once more, it actually seemed greener than I can ever remember although I wondered if my eyes have become accustomed to yellow..
The kids soon stopped playing and it was wonderfully quiet, almost eerie, this is my excuse for setting up a pole float that took one no6 plus the weight of a 6mm pellet, bizarre I know but I just felt there would be something earth shatteringly noisy about even the smallest stick float breaking the silence as it hit the surface, feathering it as I may. I reasoned this pole float would fool that big roach that seems to follow me from swim to swim even though deep down I knew it most likely wouldn't.
Naturally my pole float was getting owned by the current and no it didn't fool any roach early doors but a barbel got in on the act and was more than welcome. I'm not sure if it was embarrassed by being caught on a pole float but it did the most mighty of poops on my mat. Now we are used to fish doing this on occasion, even in the hand sometimes (usually the odd dace or gudgeon) a fish will leave a silty little present to be washed off. However this was the mother load, I used the net to wipe it from the mat but stupidly flicked a remaining bit with my finger, I smelt it and blimey, "What had this fish been eating" I thought, It was putrid. This barbel had an Anus Horribilis.
It didn't take long to realize the folly of my pole float as the wind got up a little so I changed to a wire stemmed stick as I could cast closer to the dark water on the far side, I had not the skill today to avoid the rushes every time it was pinged tight under the overhang, but had the luck that when I did snag up the float came gently free, one of those days that compensates for the ones where you seem to snag everything going.
My new set up earned me a tiny barbel that was almost to strong to hold and it was noticeable how strong the fish were compared to summer now that there was fresh water in the river, another decent barbel followed which was a clutch screamer, the fish were in cracking condition.
All the bites were super fast and I also managed a few chub and couple of dace which was nice, as for the roach, well they were there but were really sharp today, too sharp and I eventually caught a glimpse of my big old friend that had appeared, feeding only on the drop as per usual, as a result on came the pole float once more, pure folly I know.
The big old roach didn't really want to know only taking the odd pellet in the clear water and I kind of didn't want to catch it again have twice already achieved this feat this year. Ok I did want to but don't mind that I didn't if that makes sense, that roach won today and won with ease getting a free meal in the process.
Instead a bigger barbel drifted in near as they often do if you sit well back, when this happens when fishing you kind of go motionless even though you knew your were stealthily still before, I swear at times we hold our breath without realizing it. I couldn't resist gently lowering in my float in front and watched my pellet drop as far as I could, then the barbel puffed out it's mouth and I could see all four barbules outstretched like a hand, towards where my pellet had dropped about six inches from the bottom, it had to be my bait so I struck not waiting for the float to move and the barbel to eject the bait. It was on and did that heavy plodding fight that larger barbel seem to do, seeming almost lethargic in comparison to the smaller fish, it wasn't massive but was easily the biggest I saw in the swim today.
The morning sauntered in to afternoon so quickly although how much of that was taken up by changing floats or having a coffee I do not know but it was now a lazy approach to the day, I sheltered from the odd shower hoping any remaining barbel doo doo would get washed from my mat. I had one last go for the big roach as futile as I knew it was but I was happy to get a few good chunky ones in the end.
I pottered off slowly having got my fill, the birds were fluttering between the trees, rabbits scurried quickly in the distance upon hearing my footsteps, it sure beat spending time in hospitals and like the trip before this fishing trip was a sensory overload of the most welcome variety.
