Barbeling on a Rising River - II

Last weeks barbel fishing on a rising river didn't quite live up to expectations as the river only rose an inch or two. Thursday, though, looked  like the river was going to rise a good couple of foot judging by the height it had risen in the dales. It had already risen a foot by the time I got there. A good sign was the number of anglers on the, preferred, far bank. The next problem was finding a swim. This side of the river isn't that popular as it's a fair old walk from the car. My favourite swim no longer existed. The big gravel bed had moved some 20-30 yards downstream and by the looks of it will be dry land when the river's at normal levels. I did note that there was now a bit of a trench down the inside which could be a good spot if the river got up another foot or more.

Having cleared a spot on the bank just in case I had a wander. Further on I spotted a nice crease about half way across that looked inviting. With the aid of a storm pole and machete I managed to make my way down the precipitous overgrown bank. The descent wasn't helped by the flood debris hiding in the vegetation and the bindweed endeavouring to trip me. Luckily I found a decent size area of flattish bank at the bottom.  It soon became apparent I should have brought my heavier rods as a 90g feeder was required to hold bottom. Once it was loaded with dampened pellets you're nearing the upper limit for these rods. A 25mm halibut pellet soaked in gunk along with the pellets jambed in the feeder so as not to just flow out and down the current, but rather to produce a scent trail.

It wasn't long before the downstream rod started to bend and the baitrunner click, click away. Thinking it was debris on the line I picked the rod up and started winding. It wasn't until I got the feeder to the surface I realised there was a fish on the end. This fish also realised it was hooked at this point and made a couple of short runs before giving up and coming swiftly to the net. I tidy little barbel of 5lb 7oz. It did however have a fish louse on it. A single Argulus is hardly going to sap it's health, so I put it's lack of fight to a bit of midweek apathy. Within twenty minutes of that the water was lapping round my wellies and 90g was no longer holding bottom. A move was in order.

I retired to the first swim I'd cleared. I put one at the end of the gravel bed and, having increased the hook length to four foot, the other was dropped in the gutter upstream. A couple of handfuls were dropped into the gutter downstream. The downstream rod started to bend and the bait runner clicked away, much like the previous bite. This time though it was debris, a fair sized bit of willow that put up more of a struggle than the barbel before coming adrift. Up to mow the debris hadn't been a problem apart from the odd leaf or bit of weed. Over the next half hour quite a bit of big stuff came down. Logs, a pallet and various branches drifted past. The water must have got to that magic height where it picks up the debris dropped from a previous spate.

By now there was a few fish splashing about seemingly feeding on a hatch of mayfly. The downstream rod, now in the gutter, whacked over. Lifting into it it was away at speed. I thought at first I hadn't disengaged the baitrunner, but no it was taking line against a rather tight clutch and it took a lot of line with the aid of the current. It was now very close to the tree roots, but decided instead to head to mid river and an even faster current. Despite me giving it some serious grief it took a good ten minutes to get it near the net. It then spent another couple of minutes avoiding the net. I still hadn't really seen the fish, but managed to persuade it upstream of me and to the surface. Hanging on to the landing net in the fast current while trying to land a hard fighting barbel is never easy, but now I was slipping down the muddy bank. Dropping the rod tip it swam straight into the net just as I lost my grip on the bank and ended up in the river. Thankfully the water wasn't deep enough to overwhelm my wellies. The beastie was not as big as expected, given the fight, at 7lb 15oz.

As a duck and ducklings struggled upstream the tip of the upstream rod dropped back and I was into another hard fighting fish that again hugged the bottom, but didn't put in any long runs. Still, given it was always heading upstream it battled for five minutes before I got it in the net. Another solid fish of 6lb 8oz. It looked like I was in for a good evening, but the river had stopped rising. An angler on the far bank took a fish just as it started to rain. This time heavy enough for the brolly to go up. It rained quite heavily for over an hour with absolutely no action to the rods. The river level now appeared to be dropping.  A large slug hanging onto some vegetation trying not to become fish food. As the rain eased off I started to get a few knocks on the downstream rod. Eventually a chub of around 2lb managed to get the hook to it's mouth. It was now I discovered my phone had just about discharged it's battery and switched itself off.

As the rain had now stopped and the river was obviously dropping I decided to pack up in daylight as it was a bit of a slog back to the car.  Also it's easier to pick off all the slugs that seem to be attracted to fishing tackle when it's been raining. It also seemed others on the far bank had the same idea. In fact of the half dozen anglers I saw when I arrived all bar one had gone as I wandered back to the car.

Apparently I'd done better than most with three fish, so not a bad evening. The battery on the phone is now only holding half charge, so it's either replace the battery on an oldish phone or it may be a good excuse for a new one.

Music while I type provided by Foot Stompin’ Podcast