Extracts from the experiences of a river angler, mostly barbel, but with comment and musings about other species, river wildlife and associated topics. All pictures will enlarge if you click on them.

I chose a swim that contained at least ten good chub and four barbel, and we set out to show Ron the techniques involved with caster and hemp fishing. Plenty of bait is the first requirement, with a gallon of hemp and five pints of casters a safe amount of feed. We checked out the swim, and decided where to concentrate the feed, with a backup area in mind of the fish would not move to the initial baited area.
We put in a pint of caster and two of hemp to start with, and left it for an hour to mature, returning to top it up with ten more droppers before casting in.

The chub loved it, and we caught six of them before a barbel made a mistake, then two more chub, but the rest of the barbel would not even switch on properly to what is normally a killing method. Ron was delighted with a barbel on the day, and so was I; it is by no means a guaranteed outcome on the Avon these days. He was pleased with his chub too, though hard to tell that from the pictures!

It was a nice day`s fishing with a very nice guy, and now I need to go and catch some more barbel for myself; been spending too much time attacking Himalayan Balsam lately.

Those barbel were quite intriguing, drifting about and munching at the baited area occasionally, but they would not have a hook bait. It reinforced the fact that they are not as easy to catch, as a species, as some pundits have been fond of saying lately. They are as difficult to catch, or as easy to catch as any other species when they are in the mood. Chub are probably easier to catch, in general terms, than barbel, though that statement will surely infuriate some of my mates in the Chub Study Group! Roach, carp, trout and salmon can be almost suicidal when they are well on the feed, and damn nigh impossible when they are not, and barbel are no different.

Chalk streams like the Avon are fortunate in being heavily spring fed from chalk aquifers deep underground, and maintain remarkably good flows throughout drought conditions, but some rivers elsewhere in the country are suffering badly die to low rainfall. EA have had to do fish rescues on some tributaries of the Stour recently, and I hear that the upper Teme has had similar problems. Low flows linked with high temperatures and high nutrient levels are a risky combination, and the fish are not playing either. The Avon barbel are there in numbers in the usual swims, but very reluctant to feed properly. I am seeing shoals of up to eight fish, and a good number of two to three pounders, but even they are just pecking idly at the gravel and I am anxious to see the head down tails up avid feeding that almost guarantees a bite. They just drift around listlessly and refuse to get their heads down. Still, they are getting a rest and plenty of grub!

The next Avon fundraiser for the Barbel Society and Roach Club will be taking place on the 18th September, and a few places are available. The event comprises a days fishing on the Somerley Estate near Ringwood, followed by an evening meal and auction at a local hotel. The lots this year are amazing; a Redmire weekend, a bottle of Redmire water donated by Chris Yates, reels, rods, tackle and bait, books, paintings and several guided fishing days on exclusive waters. The fifty quid fee pays for the meal, auction and two days fishing on the river if you want it, and the chance to fish with some great company on a lovely bit of river. The funds are to be used to support the Avon Roach Project, and other habitat work on the river. The restoration of the river to a more naturalised state is going to cost a great deal, but small projects can make a difference, and it all adds up. We are hoping, for example, to reinstate or remove an old salmon croy which is eroding away badly, and dig out more fry bays and backwaters, as well as raise a few hundred thousand roach to boost ailing stocks. If interested, contact Budgie at budgie@homecall.co.uk as soon as you can. Visit the Avon Roach Project site too; well worth a visit!

The river is wide and rocky and full of character, and also reasonably full of barbel. The first thing I noticed was the Himalayan Balsam infestation, however, and the Wye should be a warning to those who fish rivers not yet taken over by this vile stuff. The banks are completely covered in balsam beds perhaps thirty feet back from the river in places, and the river is a lost cause as far as control is concerned.
The second thing that unnerved me was the canoe traffic, and it did not warm me to the prospect of increased boat traffic on any of our rivers. A few short periods of peaceful relaxation, in a pleasant riverine environment was constantly interrupted by noisy, often inconsiderate groups of twerps in canoes, who rampaged past with a great deal of unnecessary splashing and crashing about, bashing into the banksides and each other and being generally annoying. Boat traffic must be endured on some rivers, but boats, like the cursed balsam, are not good for the environment anywhere as far as I am concerned.

The barbel made up for it though, and after twenty one barbel between four and eight pounds, in just eight hours fishing I was well impressed with the Wye barbel fishing. They are lean clean, lively fish, and in some swims you could see them scooting about and flashing amongst the rocks, or lying doggo, side by side, in the fast shallow water. They loved a bed of pellet and hemp, and I could fish the swims easily with a centrepin and a cage feeder full of pellety mix. They responded to baiting with the dropper too, with savage bites just after the feed had gone in. Excellent fishing, and well worth another visit or two, with plenty of river to get lost in and plenty of barbel enjoying a population boom.

Ian is a really nice guy, and was delighted to land a ten pounder after we had chosen and baited a swim that I had been keeping up my sleeve for him, and I do not know which one of us was the more relieved. There were two more barbel in the swim, but they were not even in the mood for casters, which made me think they had been recently caught.

The Avon barbel population seems to be fairly stable, and numbers are holding up as far as I can see, with fish to be spotted in all the usual swims, but shoals of two or three fish is the norm these days, with every third fish a double. There are increasing numbers of fish in the two to four pound range visible, and lots of evidence of successful recruitment. I have seen plenty of groups of small barbel about six inches long, as well as an older year class that are approaching a pound in weight. I was told the other day about some big shoals of tiny barbel; this years crop, and the low warm river will favour their survival. The long hot dry summer of 1976 may have had its bad points, but there is a lot of evidence that coarse fish fry benefited tremendously from low flows and high water temperatures, giving us strong year classes of fish of all species ten to twenty years later.

The Avon summer barbel fishing nowadays involves spotting and stalking fish in the expectation of one or two good fish in a day, with a good number of blanks, but is fascinating and enjoyable fishing nonetheless.
The chance of a double is very high, and this sort of fishing is still attractive to a regular clientele. I am not sure that the hemp and caster approach is as effective as the more usual boilie/pellet and PVA bag technique when fishing for a shoal that often comprises just two fish, but like any method it will work in some swims and not others.

Ian went home very happy, I am sure, and it was a nice day out for both of us, and while we were waiting for the second barbel we sat and chatted and put the whole world to rights anyway!

I watched a pair of fish in fast shallow water the other day, just sporting, almost flying in the current in the way that a kestrel or buzzard rides the wind, and it demonstrated how perfectly adapted they are to strong currents. They may have been still a bit hormonal after spawning, or perhaps just enjoying themselves, but they showed no inclination to move, even after I threw boilies at them, and were still there three days later. It was so nice watching them that I almost failed to notice a bigger fish that was munching on a bed of bait I had droppered in under my feet, and this substantial, heavily built fish just had to be fished for seriously. In typical Avon fashion, it teased and tempted me for hours, feeding only sporadically every so often, and then disdainfully leaving the swim for long periods while I struggled to work out my plan of attack. Do I rest the swim and bait sparingly and accurately, or bait heavily to feed off the chub and stimulate the fish and trigger a burst of fatal feeding activity?

The first plan worked best; there were not many chub in the swim and one less after a most welcome bonus fish of 6.12 grabbed my bit of boilie. This chub will be a good seven in the winter, and I marked his card for later in the year. The barbel eventually made a mistake, and screamed off downstream in a most satisfactory manner before going doggo and hanging solidly in the current, just like the biggest ones do. He felt so solid that I imagined he was snagged, but he was just hanging in the current, and when he turned on his side slightly he impressed me a bit with his depth of flank. A really deep and chunky fish of 13.2, one of the biggest for the river at summer weight, and a fish that put that amazing spring in my step on the long triumphant walk back across the meadows.

Next day was a relaxing fun day out on the Thames with Jon Berry, who offered the day as a lot in the Research and Conservation auction last year. Quite different to a day on the Avon, we sat and chatted and waited expectantly but fruitlessly for a barbel from an eighteen foot deep weirpool. Sitting in a boat in a noisy weirpool was certainly different, but even though the barbel did not play ball, it was a great day`s fishing, even though Jon lost a good fish in a snag last cast.

I found a group of fish that were barely more than dark shapes amongst thick weed, with an occasional glimpse of the tip of a tail fin, but they would not venture into anything resembling open water. They had probably been caught recently, and behaved in a really secretive and suspicious way. No amount of baiting could persuade them to feed in fishable gaps in the weed, so it was a case of a very short hooklink, big bomb and PVA bag dropped into the weed where I judged there to be a clean bottom beneath.

There were three fish, small, medium and large; and large was probably a twelve plus, but the medium fish made a mistake within twenty minutes of casting into the thick of the weed, and burrowed furiously about for a good while before being landed. Great clumps of lily pads and weed fronds drifted off downstream as evidence of his struggles, but it appeared to make no difference to the dense weedbed where he had been hiding.

Thankfully the Loddon retains plenty of cover and inaccessible areas where fish can hide up, and the value of sanctuary in terms of habitat should be extended to fishing hours as well in my view, but not easy to convince people these days that 24/7 fishing, 365 days, is not their inalienable right.

The seeds can remain viable for two years, but the patches of balsam are getting smaller each year, and more and more anglers are alerted to the plant. The odd single plant can be spotted and pulled up with ease and constant vigilance and action is the only course of action. The alternative is to allow the stuff to take over our river banks and do untold environmental damage to an already stressed ecosystem. Giant Hogweed, Japanese Knotweed, American Skunk Cabbage and New Zealand Stonecrop are also on the hit list, but Himalayan Balsam is the one non-native invasive alien that we as anglers should be able to deal with most easily. I saw a pair of non-native aliens on the river that should be more decorative than environmentally damaging, as long as they do not start breeding, I suppose! The black swans seem happy enough to swim alongside their white cousins, with only the odd angry exchange, but we should remember that mute swans are not truly native, any more than rabbits and grey squirrels.

Fishing has been fairly hard, with the odd hard-won barbel or chub, but I did catch a record minnow, the biggest I have ever seen at three and one quarter inches long and almost an ounce, but modesty prevents me from making a claim.

Instead of spotting fish and feeding them up with pellet or boilie bits, the murky waters of the Kennet respond to the baiting up and waiting game, where reliable swims are primed with twenty or more droppers of caster/hemp mix, and left to mature for an hour or more before casting in. Barbel cannot be seen, and knowledge of their regular haunts is vital. They will move fair distances to a bed of bait, and it is important to leave the baited area alone for at least an hour. The barbel gain confidence over this period, and imprint themselves on the feed, and a fish first cast is the sign that they have moved in. The Kennet barbel are just as unsettled as any others at this time of year, and may not have regrouped after spawning yet. So it proved, because after a fish within half an hour of casting in, the more important second fish soon after failed to show, which was a bad sign. Another hour and a half and a move was called for, and a second banker swim also failed to show any return after three more hours of baiting and fishing.

Third time lucky, and three fish to 11.15 saved the day in the last chance swim that is pretty reliable, but not my first choice on this stretch because it gets a lot of attention, and it is always more satisfying to fish some new or less pressured spots. The Kennet barbel were all fat and fit, and ranged from four pounds upwards. It seems that a good population range is still there, and although the big one was an obvious old soldier, it fought like crazy and was a chunky, healthy looking fish, that would have gone twelve in a strong wind!

I came across one of the older generation in the form of lovely thirteen and a half pounder that took a liking to some pellet and paste that I was flicking into likely looking spots on my travels. It emerged from under the weed, a great broad backed beast of a barbel that made me catch my breath as it cruised nonchalantly into the swim and munched casually on the loosefeed for a minute or two, before drifting off sedately, turning in the current to show off a deep flank and enormous tail. Fish of that size are not often spotted, and I took my chance and fed it well for a good while before casting in. It returned to the swim regularly, perhaps once an hour, but never really got its head down on the feed. Catching a couple of chub put it off, but I was back next day, and eventually the big barbel returned and dragged the rod over decisively out of the blue, whilst I was dreaming half asleep in the sunshine. The fight was not impressive, very slow and dogged and no long powerful runs, but the fish was a beauty, fin perfect and quite young-looking. It will put on a couple of pounds at least, and could touch sixteen pounds in the peak of condition later in the season. Big enough for me now, though, and a very heavy fish for the river at this time of year.

I am always walking the river in search of fish or likely spots, and find it hard to get near the river in places where cattle are treading the bank down in order to reach tasty rushes, or to have a drink. This process of poaching, as it is called, can have a serious effect on smaller streams, but there is an argument for fencing on bits of the Avon, where banks are collapsing or mud baths are being produced that will wash out in high water and release unwanted solids to produce silt and sediment on gravels. Natural England will be unimpressed by my problems with barbel spotting, or even access for fishing, but unnecessary bank erosion, that widens the channel and reduces flow, and extra sediments that could affect gravel spawners, are a valid concern.

Barbel need extra care too, and recovery in the net when landed and a lengthy recovery before release are essential at the moment. My barbel eventually came back as the sun paled and went red, and shot off strongly downstream for a good ten yards before I could stop him. He had looked bigger in the water perhaps eight or nine, but he was long and lean and went a bit over seven and a half. A very prettily coloured fish, and a typical golden Avon barbel, with a nice set of exceptionally long barbels; a nice specimen to start the season.

I wandered to a handy and previously reliable swim just on the inside of a bend, parted the rushes, peered expectantly in, and trickled in some bits of crumbled boilie and paste in a clear run in the streamer weed under the bank to see what happened. The sun was getting hotter on my back, but helpful in the process of spotting fish. The river is unusually low and clear for the time of year, and it looked as if seeing a barbel before July was on the cards. Some dark inquisitive shapes soon appeared, clearly mopping up the bait, but they were all chub. Then, a leaner, faster and apparently greedier fish nosed in. A barbel, maybe five pounds, but a barbel sighted on the first day was a real result. It is not uncommon to fail to catch a barbel on the Avon until July; they are hard to find until the water clears, and are usually scattered and unsettled so soon after spawning. I fed in some more bait, arranged a comfortable seating arrangement, sorted out the tackle, and went for a walk. No rush; let them have a feed and be content with a few bites and maybe even an opening day barbel.

The chub got there first, and after a few hours it was apparent that the barbel had been a loner, and catching chub after chub had put him off. He never came back as far as I could tell, but the chub kept coming. They are pretty greedy at this time of year, and seemed to be well recovered from spawning. After six chub, with four over five pounds, up to an honest 5.15, I had done enough and left well before dusk but with a plan to come back and see if the barbel would do the same, and perhaps bring some of his pals.

The river is a pacey, rocky bottomed affair, with plenty of rapids and smooth glides, and almost unfished. Even the stretches in the town parks at Confolens and St Junienne are mostly free of other fishermen. The barbel are not big, with a five pounder a notable fish, but the average three pounder tears off across the river like a carp, and most have not been caught before. The carp, on the other hand, will scream across to the other bank in seconds, and take some getting in on our light barbel gear. The barbel are breeding very well on the Vienne, with several year classes represented it seems. The little ones are good fun too, giving a fierce bite that belies their small size. There are silure, Wels catfish, as well, but fortunately we did not come across any. They are highly prized by the locals, and are apparently delicious.

It may be that the barbel are bigger in the lower reaches of the river, but they are certainly thriving and growing in the area we fished, and in a few years could reach the five kilo mark. They certainly like the pellet and feeder approach, and there is a world of exploring to do on the river.

The carp are viewed as a food source or as crude trophies by some, who kill and eat them, or take their heads as evidence of their prowess, leaving the carcasses on the bank to rot. The spawning carp in the margins were an easy target for a well aimed rock, and leapt upon and carried off to be gutted and presumably boiled or barbecued as a fishy treat. I heard tales of large catfish, well over a hundred pounds, filleted and loaded into vans by the river bank, and all quite legal in certain areas. There is no close season, and there are removal limits of six carp per day, and no limit on catfish in certain regions. Where we fished, the catfish removal limit is two per day, but carp are quaintly described as being "capture and loose", which I think means catch and release. Conservation will have to come to these fisheries as people increase in number and fish populations decline accordingly.

Our day ticket was a lovely example of the sort of poor translation text that we used to expect with electrical goods from the Far East. Carp; " Fishing in the modality of capture and loose the whole year, with the exception of allowing to maintain in the fish ponds the specimens fished in the contests during the duration of the proof. Prohibited the filleted of the fish captured in all of the enclosure area." Catfish; " 2 for fisherman/ day, minimal height 100 cms" We think minimal height means minimum length.

For two days we fished for roach, and had good bags of fish that were a bit lean and rangy after spawning, up to low twos, but nice fish that would be better targeted later in the year. There are lots of roach, and they go to over three pounds quite regularly, we are told. My first bite on the roach gear was a twenty five pound common, but I had enough line on the spool to tire him in the end. I also accidentally caught my first catfish, a most unwelcome creature, and it did not endear me to the species in any way.