Piscatorial Quagswagging

...the diary of a specialist angler in around the Warwickshire Avon and its tributaries.

Thursday 13 July 2017

Warwickshire Avon – Hemp, Halieutics and Hedonism

The simple pleasures in life are to be treasured, last Sunday after an afternoon of cracking food, good company, bladderation in moderation, I wasn’t ready to go to bed.

It was warm after all, so with the kids conked out asleep, the Wife watching another dross American show on Sky Atlantic I wanted a little solitude.

Viken Arman, Live at Belvédère des Caillettes on the Bluetooth speaker, a nice bottle of Red and a big fat cigar that I enjoy from time to time.


Heaven….

Port and Stilton, another one of my hedonistic pleasures.

Oh yes….can life get any better….?

Even the bats seem to be more prevalent than ever, as if they came to watch.

Fishing for many, and for me can offer so much pleasure in some may ways, for instance one scenario after watching motionless rod tips for a couple of hours completely out of the blue, a Barbel has finally moved in to the baited area picked up the hookbait bait, felt something isn’t right with it, and bolted downstream.


Silence to Violence in a split second….

where if the baitrunner wasn’t activated, or the clutch set properly, the rod if you weren’t quick enough would end up being ripped out of the rest and would be river bound never to be seen again.

It’s something unless you have experienced it firsthand you wouldn’t think a fish could do that.

I take that a little further but using a centepin reel with a ratchet, not only does it offer, for me anyway more control over a powerful Barbel run but it also offer an audible bite indication that is a sensory overload in itself.

It must be seen to be believed….dare I say it the ‘Three foot Twitch’.

For this session Barbel would be the target. I didn’t have much time either, this was a stupidly short session.


The swim I wanted to fish has a large canopy that hangs over this relatively narrow stretch of the Warwickshire Avon. When it’s low and clear as it is now, the fish tuck themselves out of the way under this overly large parasol and venture out when the light goes. You can catch them if you can get a bait underneath by casting upstream and rolling some meat but a recent snag that has appeared recently has made that nigh on impossible.

Bait and wait is the way to go….

So with half a pint of casters I had to use up I bait dropped a Smörgåsbord consisting of about a pint of hemp, small pellets and some broken boilies to match the one I’d use on the hair.


Boy they love hemp, doesn’t everyone.

The rig, well an adaptation of the Gluttonous Chub – Poka-Yoke Rig

So a large spicy squid boilie rather than an overly large pellet. The problem is Chub are always around so meat is a no go because I when they move in I want to know that the bait is still intact after they go on their bait stripping mission.

Ok sometimes the Chub will eventually hang itself but it’s surprising just how many powerful pulls and tugs the rig can tolerate and the hookbait is still staying put where it needs to be. Meat you are in two minds whether the bait is still there and the last thing you want to do is keep on recasting.


So a tough skinned boilie, large stop, long hair is the way to go for this approach.

So best laid plans and all that....

A bed of bait down, leave for an hour, whilst I had a small quiver rod with link ledger set-up to try and catch a few Gonks, and a few Gonks I did.

A bite a chuck, the best went 1.35oz so 0.09 more than I managed before.

Rods went out, sit back and bait....

After 10 minutes the first indication, a smash and grab chub bite, bang, rattle, pull, tug till eventually I got bored and struck.


Yeap a small Chub the culprit.

Rod out again, dusk upon us, the right rod goes this time, bang, rattle, pull, tug. bang, rattle, pull, tug, yeap, this one has hooked itself.

Damn Chub, sadly with the light about to go and club rules and all that, I'm off.

Btw if the Focus estate driver is reading this, yes I had a tyre inflator, 

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