Thursday 27 July 2017

Warwickshire Avon – Pedeconference and Pandiculation

Back from a long day at work, I step in the front door in to the hall and I’d literary had one foot in the office when the Wife appears.

“Hello love, good day?” “Anyway as I was saying yesterday…”

My foot in both camps, the hall and office

“Yeah, just give me a minute, just need to get sorted”

“So if we stop the weekend, it will be £*** oh and we get the next day in the park for free, oh and …..” “Could do with knowing asap, so we can get it booked up”

I continue on my way, I need to get showered and changed, the Wife still trying to hold conversation, even the overly extended yawn and outstretch it didn’t put it off her mission.

“So what do you think, shall I book it up, we can even spend some of out clubcard points”

An easy way to end this, card out wallet….

“Here you go, yeah whatever, just get it sorted, by the way, I’ve decided to go fishing later, how long till tea ?”

“Daddy, Daddy, Daddy, look at the cool new trick I can do with my tennis racket”

“Ok, give me 5, let me have a shower first”

So this fishing hobby of ours, great isn’t it, as it’s on your terms, I thrive on the benefits of spending time alone, freedom is considered to be one of the benefits of solitude, you see the constraints of others will not have any effect on a person who is spending time in solitude, therefore giving the person more of a scope to their actions. With increased freedom, a person’s choices are less likely to be affected by exchanges with others.

As a solitude seeker, contemplation, spirituality and discovering ones identity, what’s not to like. Fishing is an avenue to get your fix.

And boy, do I need it....

Heck, maybe as an addition to maggot drowning some meditation and some deprivation of sensory input is the way forward.

Blest! Who can unconcern'dly find
Hours, days, and years slide soft away,
In health of body, peace of mind,
Quiet by day.

Then again solitude is torture for those in solitary confinement, then again after finding oneself alone in the house sometimes, is all very weird, noise is the norm, no denying that.

So with the bank balance battered yet again, I was back at the Warwickshire Avon, this time a swim of convenience and this time smaller than usual boilies with a paste wrap. In this case some Barbel slick sense from West Country baits, some of the most lovely smelling baits I've put my hand on.

There had been a nice sprinkling of rain you see and also with a drop in temperature I wanted to see if there was any Barbel up for feeding.

It was much clearer that I thought it would be, but I know for a fact that's not a problem it's just a waiting game basically.

With the bait positioned over some gravel between some streamer weed, the bites started, the odd tap and pull here and there, from chublets and then the odd proper pull from a proper Chub the hour before dusk was pretty uneventful.

About 20 minutes before I'd have to go the rod starts to nod a few times, bang,bang,bang.

So unusually for me I struck in to it as the bite hadn't properly developed. Then that's when all hell broke loose, obviously a good Barbel initially it headed further in to the streamer weed but I managed to abate it's powerful run but then it came back towards me upstream and I could visually see the fish in the water.

It eventually surfaced and look a decent fish, maybe a double. I grabbed the landing net and positioned it on the platform in readiness but then it had one last run upstream where it wedged it self among some thick reeds.

The fish was stuck fast....bugger

I put on as much pressure as I could but nothing was doing, so only one thing for it, maybe a stupid thing in hindsight.

I gave it some slack....

The problem was it buried itself even deeper into the reeds but this time when pressure was applied I could feel the line grating up and down the edge of the reeds.

As suspected upon applying as much pressure as I could the line caught the feather edge of the reed and the fish was gone.

It's happened before in similar fashion but luckily for me I don't lose barbel that often, this one I wanted to bank though as it would have upped my bloggers points for the species that's for sure.

Lesson learnt and with my tail between my legs I was homeward bound.


  1. Unlucky Mick. Sounds like a carbon copy of what I did a couple of weeks ago and it caught me by surprise.

  2. One of those things Sean, glad it's not just me. Catch up soon, fancy trying an hour in to dark if you fancy it


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