Piscatorial Quagswagging

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

Thursday 8 August 2019

Warwickshire Avon - Carnivores and Campanologists

Some solitude to be sought, I know the place. The plan to use up some hemp and caster, leave a bed of bait for a Barbel to find and then whilst the swim was doing its thing get on the rove with bread to find a chub or two.

However a spanner in the works, the local bell ringers only a stones throw away were determined to scupper my plans. Some haphazard playing enough to seemingly bring back my tinnitus.


About 5 or 6 big bait droppers in a swim I've caught Barbel before, a swim with everything in it. So much character and has some nice cover for a Barbel to lay up before venturing out when the light goes after the sun goes down.

Once the bait was down it was time to rove for a Chub.


Before that though the rod was set-up ready to go. The hooklink where the bait dropper was attached swapped with one with 3 fake casters. When I've fished like this before you want to keep the bait in the water as long as possible when you eventually cast out and anything that will help to discourage a small dace determined to kibosh the short evening session.

You know the bait is still there, so when a proper bite comes, you know what it will be from, a Barbel, well that or a Chub.


Now talking of Chub, when the swim was resting I tried a few swims to try and bag a Chub. It came from a slightly deeper swim where once cast in the bread starts on the surface and after a while, once it''s damp it will slowly sink.

The bite unmistakably a Chub, not a bad one either with a lovely dark back they have at this time of the year after sunning themselves.


So forty-five minutes before dusk the fake bait goes out and lucky the annoying bells stop. Some knocks and pulls there are fish in the swim. A hovering kingfisher holding station, you don't that, couch bound. As the light started to go as the bats came out I heat a rustling to my right, then something drops in to the water.

Then a sniffing snorting sound, and whatever it is, is heading in my direction. I get my phone torch out and shine it towards to the nose. Yeap, as I expected an Otter. A big'un as well. He sees me then disappears under the surface.


Damn, I know what the outcome be with time to go a clock watch away. A few minutes later it has surfaced again to be left this time, so me being there hasn't put it off.

He is determined to stay.

15 minutes later I'm packed up biteless with ones tail between ones legs. Luckily though two patrolling barn owls escort me back to my car. Another Barbel session ended with a blank. Fingers crossed for next time. A new stretch I think this time, I couldn't do any worse can I. Heck I might squeeze in a few Gonks whilst I conduct a session in similar fashion.

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