Lee, our son, tries to come back to England from the northern climes of the UK for an annual pilgrimage to the banks of the River Wye, my favourite river.
It is always a joy to escape to coarse fish a river teeming with fish of a range a species in tranquil surroundings.
As usual, we have a friendly challenge, this year it was the best barbel, best chub and most species. This latter goal proved great fun as we had to adopt a range of styles ranging from the usual ledgering for chub and barbel to trotting, spinning, fly fishing etc, all of which tested our skills and this variety definitely added to the pleasure of the trip.
We started on the first evening, after the trek, fishing behind Bredwardine Bridge as we didn’t fancy much effort after settling in. We both caught barbel and chub, with the best barbel being 9lb 14ox and the best chub of 5lb 8oz. It was noticeable that the chub were very thin after the spawning process having outsize heads in relation to the body before they fatten up in the coming months. This resulted in us catching a plethora of four pounders and only a few fives throughout the week.
So catching the best of one species each, we switched to the others. I caught an eel on meat in the deep pool behind the bridge on spam. Lee took to hand lining with a size 16 hook for minnows!! He then tried trotting of the parapet of the bridge catching chub too heavy to lift so shouted down for me to net them from my position wading below. I did for the health of the fish, this much to my annoyance, cutting his hook off in the process to teach him a lesson.
After a day trotting in the shallows, we both caught bleak, dace and minnow. I ten got out my fly rod to catch more dace, chub and a couple of salmon parr. I was now two species up. However, our efforts were hampered by the hoard of canoeists on the river. Whilst some are experienced and courteous, gently drifting past us, other had Ghetto blasters blaring. One two person canoe crashed into Lee when he was wading adjacent to deep pool. I was able to warn him so he could steer the canoe to one side. Had it hit him unnoticed it could have nudged him into a deep pool which had dangerous implications. Whilst none of it was malicious, it did ruin the sport with dogs running in the river, stones being thrown when they stop for a break. We even had a frogman with snorkel and mask swimming through our stretch.
I can’t help thinking of the plonker Griff Rees Jones saying canoeists should annoy anglers because they don’t own the water. Well we do pay to fish and but a licence to maintain the waterway through the environment agency and a little common sense and respect from both sides would be welcome. We both pull our tackle in to let them past and ensure that we don’t cast or bait up when they are passing, but a little education on the part of the canoe companies on how to treat anglers would be very welcome. I believe the novice canoeists just don’t think about it and a little tuition would help greatly.
Now my Victor Meldrew moment has passed for the day I’ll continue. The next technique Lee used was touch ledgering under a tree catching bream and perch, and then taking an 8lb pike on a piece of luncheon meat, putting him a species ahead. I responded spinning with Mepps catching perch and chub, levelling the score. It was really nice to see the head of perch rising, no doubt sustained by the large head of bleak and small dace, with fish up to nearly two pounds. I tried spinning and plugging for pike hooking a large double figure fished which crashed through the shrubbery making a bow wave spreading everything in its path before the abrasion caused failure of my line. I didn’t have another take that week. The match was settled by Lee trying to fish for eels with a double lobworm only to catch a gudgeon. So Lee won the bragging rights for this trip.
We also had visitors joining us to fish too: John came with his matching tackle, bags etc, a really well presented angler in total contrast to me. I acted as guide for day to show him around the river which he had never fished before. After a bag on match fisherman sized fish, he ended with a good chub. It was a rewarding day to see the smile. My fishing pal Reg also came to fish using his pole and fine match tactics catching a roach and a trout within the bleak dace and chub. That made 13 species that we caught from the river; what other river can offer such a wonderful range of .sport The evenings with him were spent listening to live folk music being played in the pubs around the area. I am always amazed at the skills people have, and in the rural areas like Hereford and Devon, the quantity of high calibre musicians is awe inspiring. Perhaps living there makes you appreciate the quality of life where time and people matters more than money. That’s getting too profound so will sign off now.