Barbel and Three Bonus Chub

It’s a long drive from Lancashire to Woolhampton in the Royal County of Berkshire especially on a Friday. To make matters worse, idiots were slowing down to rubber neck an accident on the north bound lane of the M6 in Staffordshire. We were also held up just before the M5, this time by road works. Once on the M5 the going was OK, despite the journey lasting some six hours, it was well worth the effort. Pulling into the riverside car park I was greeted by a river with an extra foot of water, the colour of a light green pea soup. It was the best I had seen the river Kennet in nearly two years. Despite the leaves and other rubbish floating downstream, this was a barbel river looking its best.I was joined on this trip by Tony Sutton one of my BBC Radio Lancashire listener who was looking forward to fishing the river Kennet for the first time.

Walking the banks, checking permits and making sure all the cars had their parking permits displayed, I also chatted with several anglers, who all reported “The barbel are feeding” As I walked down river I made a mental note of some swims, where I planned to drop a few free bait samples, in the hope I could later on wrinkle out a fish or two. My bait choices were 6 packets of Pallatrax Jungle paste and a 4lb tin of luncheon meat. I had great confidence in both baits in the coloured water. Hopefully the fish will find the free samples before the dreaded Signal crays. These are certainly a problem. Another problem I have found on many barbel rivers is the amount of boilies and pellets going into our rivers. I have never found it an advantage in dumping lots of bait into the water. One angler on the Reading water dumped five kilo’s of boilies in a swim for three consecutive days. Then he couldn’t work out why he didn’t catch.

Back at our accommodation, I sorted out the kit for an evening session, while Tony put the kettle on for a fresh brew. After some tea and toast we were ready for the off. Parking the car we had a walk upstream where Geoff was rolling meat. Chatting with him he said “I have just lost a good fish” Tony’s stood there eyes wide open with a shocked look on his face. He turned to me and said “He is fishing with half a tin of meat, no wander he lost the fish” I thought to myself, Tony was going to learn something about river barbel fishing over the next couple of days.

Back in the car park, I suggested Tony use his 12 foot rod, fixed spool reel and 15lb braid, I then added a sliding link and a small bead followed by a swivel. After attaching a foot of 12lb fluorocarbon line, I tied on a size 4 hook. We then walked downstream to the salmon hut. I chose a swim on the inside of a bend, over hung by a large alder tree, with some five feet of fast swirling water. Conditions dictated a large Stonze weight. Tearing off three bits of meat I baited the size 4 hook, at the same time I dropped in three free samples of the hook bait. Tony looked on in disbelief at the size of both hook bait and samples.

Casting out Tony sat back holding his rod, willing the tip to move. Ten minutes later it did so, in fine style, as the rod tip whacked round. The answering strike connected with a big powerful fish. Tony in trying to stop the fish reaching some tree roots further downstream, got a bad burn on his finger from the braid. Then the fish was gone. Later in the evening as we sat having a fresh brew he commented. “Those river barbel certainly fight and take big baits” An hour later Tony had his first river barbel. Having had a long drive and with both of us feeling tired. We packed up that first evening about nine o’clock.

A Teenagers First Barbel

After a leisurely breakfast Tony and I pulled into the car park about 9-30 am, we were quickly followed by the Proberts Dad Craig and son Sam who had travelled up from Twickenham, what a charming father and son they were. Young Sam apart from being a keen angler, also played rugby, the father and son duo can often be seen watching Harlequins play. Young Sam has just caught a 3lb river Thames perch. The river Kennet looked even better than the day before, I didn’t for one moment doubt that I could get young Sam hooked up to a barbel, though things don’t always go as planned. Having sorted out the tackle, I threw some baits, scales etc into my bait bucket. Then we headed off downstream. My first choice swim was the one, where Tony had fished the evening before. Tony fished half way down the swim, wile I placed Sam at the head of the swim. Baiting with a big chunk of meat, Sam dropped the bait tight to the bank in the fast swirling water. Every time the rod tip moved Sam was reaching to grab it. “Don’t touch the rod until I tell you, just sit on your hands” I instructed.

Thirty minutes later his rod tip whacked round. “Now hit it” I shouted. The answering strike nearly wrenched the rod from his hand, Sam held on grimly. There wasn’t a lot he could do. After some minutes he got some line back on the reel, the fish then decided it wanted to reach the sanctuary of some tree roots. Suddenly it rolled on the surface. This barbel I estimated at about 12lbs, then rolled on the line, suddenly I heard a sound like a pistol shot, at the same time the fish had lashed its tail on the line. Then all was lost as the line parted. I had one gutted youngster. As he said “Don’t they pull” It’s a fish I would like to have hooked myself.

An hour or two after fishing other swims without success, except for a couple of bites which were missed, I decided it was time for lunch, during our break I changed Sam’s line and attached a sliding link. We chose to fish our first choice swim of the morning, where Sam’s missed two takes, I said to Craig and Sam, let’s move up river to the ‘Watering Can’ swim, an area of fast shallow water with lots of water crowfoot and over hung by two big willows. On all fours we crept to the water, I pointed out to Sam, the spot where he should drop the bait. Swinging the chunk of luncheon meat pendulum fashion, he dropped it in a small clear channel. We all three sat there intently watching the rod tip, within minutes Sam had two quick but determined taps on the rod tip. “They are not crays, that’s a fish” I said to Sam. Suddenly the tip was pulled down savagely. Sam didn’t miss this one, as the fish ripped line off the reel. It headed off downstream in its bid to escape; suddenly it changed direction, moving upstream towards a small snaggy island.

Sam was in complete control, and then five minutes later I netted a lovely fish. Sam had big grin lighting up his young face; I reckon Dad Craig had an even bigger grin. It was nice seeing this teenager catch his first barbel from one of England’s great coarse fishing rivers. After the obligatory photographs we moved on to try another couple of swims before going off to dinner, after Craig and Sam went off home. Tony and I were going to have an evening session.

An Evening Session to Remember

As I was desperate to help Tony catch a few fish I decided we should both fish the same swim that Ewan Turner and I had fished the week, but we only had a handful of fish. Every time we passed the swim I would drop in a few free offerings. Ewan and I had fished the river from the 12th until the 18th then we returned home late on the 18th, so I could attend the AGM of the Prince Albert A S on the 19th. The only day, no free offering were put in the swim was on the Thursday. With the current river conditions I reckon this swim should fish tonight, especially with the high coloured water, the weather was perfect, warm with some clouds and light rain showers. Probably the best conditions I could wish for.

I chose to fish a 12 foot Avon action rod designed for line between 6 and 10lb, centre pin reel with 10lb Gamma line, I lightly attached 4 LG shot on the line some fifteen inches from the hook. Unlike Tony I didn’t choose braid. I tied on a size 4 hook with a five turn tucked blood knot. It’s a knot that hasn’t let me down when tied properly. Bait choice was quite simple a big chunk of Pallatrax Jungle paste or three pieces of luncheon meat, threaded on the hook and up the line. Don’t use a knife and cut your meat into cubes, just tear off chunks. You will find it’s more attractive to both barbel and chub. Within minutes, no probably fifty seconds I had a light pull, the answering strike connected with my first fish of this session. When netted we could see it was a fish about 7lbs. I released it back into the swim, then rebaited with more meat. Five minutes later I was into another fish. This one weighed around the 8-8-0 mark. As I was wishing Tony’s rod tip to move, it did so in fine style. The answering strike connected with a good fish. After a brief struggle the fish was netted. We weighed it in a 7lbs what I reckon is a good size Kennet fish.

Rebaiting our hooks we cast out, I then put on the jet boiler for a fresh brew. It beats drinking lager, and you will have a clear head when driving home. I find it rather stupid to see anglers drinking half a dozen cans of beer then getting into a car and driving home. Some anglers even drink whisky. Remember if your driving leave the drink alone. Within minutes my rod is away again, soon I am fighting what feels like a good fish. It just hugs the bottom moving slowly upstream. I cramp on the pressure. It’s surprising what pressure you can exert on a fish with the right gear. Suddenly it was gone. I was gutted. Winding in a found a big scale from a barbel attached to the hook, which made me feel a lot better. At least I hadn’t lost a big fish through some fault in my tackle.

Soon after losing the fish Tony was hooked up to another barbel which tried its best to get into some brambles and tree roots trailing in the water. Tony’s experience and his strong but well balanced tackle meant there was only going to be one winner. The angler, soon I had netted another nice fish around the 7lb mark. Sitting there in the darkness watching the rod tip, drinking tea and eating a well cooked beef sandwich, I felt very relaxed and happy with my lot as an angler. Owls hooted all around us, hearing some rustling in the long grass, looking around I spotted a hedgehog, I threw it some meat. Ten minutes later a young badger appeared. Twenty minutes later all hell was let loose, a dozen or more pheasants started crowing and flying around in the darkness. Were poachers about I thought to myself? I decided to investigate, winding in my rod I said to Tony “I’ll be back shortly”. After roaming around in the woods for about fifteen minutes with no signs of poachers, I decided an owl, deer or a fox must have upset the pheasants.

Returning to my swim I rebaiting with some Pallatrax jungle paste I was quickly into another fish, after netting it, it was quickly released back to its watery domain, I rebaited the size 4 hook, and as the bait settled on the gravel, I felt a take, striking I connected with a hard fighting fish. I thought to myself “I hope this isn’t foul hooked it feels a good one” After a good scrap I netted what looked like a double in the evening darkness. The scales said 9-6-0 I was more than pleased. In the next two hours, I had another half a dozen barbel and missed three good takes. Why I missed them I don’t know. At about ten pm we called it a day and headed off for some hot food and some sleep.

A Trio of 5lb Chub

Sunday morning the weather was awful, 30 – 40 mile strong wind with heavy gusting rain; it was more like monsoon rain. Not the best of conditions to roam the delightful river Kennet. Back at the waters edge, I tackled up with two rods, a light Avon action rod with centre pin reel, 4lb line and a size 12 hook. I chose a balsa on quill float to take the equivalent of 2 swan shot stopped some 12 inches from the hook. My other outfit was the same as I had used the evening before. I would use the heavy outfit for the barbel, the lighter one for the perch, which I planned to target in a couple of areas. During the previous trip I had seen some good fish striking at bait fish. After setting up Tony in what I thought was a good barbel spot, I went off roaming, dropping bits of meat into likely looking spots. Quickly catching a couple on paste.

After a couple of hours I made my way back to where Tony was fishing. He had one barbel about six pounds. He then said “A good fish keeps rolling over there close to those bushes in the water on the opposite bank” To get to the fish, entailed pushing oneself through brambles, willows and thick undergrowth. I decided to give it try; hopefully I could get into a spot where it was possible to trot a worm down to the area where the fish kept showing itself.

After some ten minutes of struggling through the jungle like conditions I reached the waters edge. Between me and the water were some ten feet on tangled tree roots, loose branches and dead trees. The bottom was of soft silt in which I immediately sunk down to my knees filling my boots with water. Oh well, now I am in the water I might as well go all the way. With a box of worms, landing net and rod I waded out until I could reach a spot where I could trot the float fished worm down the current. First cast, the float went about ten feet then dipped, then dipped again, and then it moved slowly across the current submerging as it did so. The answering strike connected with a good fish. After a couple of minutes I spotted a good fish, flash in the water.

A chub I estimated as a good four pounds put up a good fight, eventually I got the fish in the net. I quickly realised it might even go five pounds. Hanging the landing net in the water, I struggled back through all the snags, undergrowth and trees to reach the bank. Then made my way upstream to collect scales and weigh bag. On my returning I had to again struggle through the jungle like conditions to my landing net and the fish. After zeroing the scales I weighed the chub at 5-6-0. Releasing the fish, I watched it glide off slowly to take up a position roughly where I had been seen rolling.

After taking that chub I moved upstream to trot a lobworm under some over hanging willows and alders, it was a difficult spot to fish with all the trailing branches in the water, the strong wind and heavy rain didn’t help. First trot down and I had a perch about six ounces. Three more trots down the fifteen yard swim resulted in two bites both missed. On the next cast I connected with a powerful fish which certainly put a bend in the rod Twice I was forced to give some line. Eventually I had the fish close in for netting it was another good chub. As it was pulled into the landing net I gave a sigh of relief. It was mine. On the scales it went 5-9-0. I was well pleased. Having caught my second five pounder of the session, I decided it was time for lunch. As we made our way back to the van the monsoon like conditions got even worse. The river had started to rise.

After some hot food and coffee Tony and I felt a lot better. I decided to take Tony off downstream and search some new water. Stopping on the way I dropped a chunk of meat into a small clearing in between some alder branches and quickly caught a good barbel which weighed in at just over 9lbs. An hour later Tony and me stopped off at an area of some twenty yards of fast swirling water, I chose to fish a big chunk of crust, which I bounced down the river, I suppose it was the fifth cast when I felt a light tap followed by a savage take. The rod tip was pulled down, the reel gave grudgingly gave some line, as I tried to gain control. After a couple of minutes I was gaining line, soon I had had the fish coming toward the waiting landing net. Tony said “That’s a big chub” I said “It looks a good one, can I be that lucky and get another five” Then it was in the net. Pulling it up the bank it felt a heavy fish. The scales told me I had caught a trio of five pound chub. It weighed in at 5-3-0 I was over the moon. With the rain still sheeting two bedraggled anglers decided to head off home to Lancashire after some great fishing. I had gone midnight when we arrived back in Lancashire