Piscatorial Quagswagging

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

Sunday 5 July 2020

Warwickshire Avon - Aabandical and Apanthropinization

What a great word Apanthropinization, the 'resignation of human concerns, the withdrawal from the world and its problems'.

Very befitting, the river it is then....

To be fair the pub is best avoided, for today anyway (yes now open after a long lockdown) I was back down a stretch that over the years has had Barbel in numbers. Has it had its day though ?

You see these barbel have been suspicious in their absence down this neck of the woods. Often when conditions are like this, low and very clear feed some gravel areas with pellets often out of nowhere the baron areas are no longer baron.

It's surprising just how an anglers eye can spot them though, point to the area with a novice, "I cannot see anything" "Where ?" "Point to it again"

Under the polarised sunglasses black shadows appear, usually the chub first some good'uns here too and then the Barbel. Over the last couple of years though, things are not like they were, maybe the floods haven't helped, the talk of nightlines being discovered who knows but my usual approach is found wanted.

This stretch is home to my PB, in-fact I've caught quite a few doubles from here and some of the smallest too. Often changing to a moving bait in these tough conditions can often bring a bite when sitting behind motionless roads can become the norm. When there there is colour and they are on the feed I've caught multi fish in short sessions, ones record 4 fish in less than half an hour if I recall.

The banks were deserted for this short evening session so I fed a couple of areas to see if any fish we around and gave it an hour fishing some meat under the float.

I love fishing like this, it's more my thing. Pull the hook through a small piece of meat turn it 90 degrees so the hook is exposed and grips the side of the bait. I fished two swims yesterday, both a long trot was possible, the last swim the float runs parallel and under some cover to try and bring out a fish hiding up from out of its lair.

Because the hook point isn't exposed even when you get stuck in some streamer weed a sharp tugs frees it and the float is on the way again.

I was really surprised  I didn't catch anything though, not even a chub. The float was bumbling and bobbing down nicely, the meat often dragging along the bottom and the weight of the float pulling it off the bottom so it was acting naturally.

The last swim in particular, looked great for a bite. Often the float kissing the thick cover as it meandered majestically down the reasonably fast flowing water.

The baited spots I went back to time after time, but again apart from some small roach and dace, nothing bigger than a few ounces were in the swim.

Well from what I could see anyway, a river seemingly devoid of bigger fish.

Still not all is lost though, there is a way to get a bite.

Again like the last session here I baited an hour before dusk with a pint and a half of help and small pellets with the aid of a dropper. A small hot fish boilie would be fished over it and then right out in front of me in a deep gully I fished a chunk of meat.

Hairs were longer this time because three Chub decided they would like the boilie last time. Nothing big but when I'm using Barbel rods I don't want to catch Chub. Well not unless it's a PB, I'd not complain then.

In complete contrast to the last session it was very windy indeed. I was only here for a an hour or so though so could put up with it especially with dusk approaching this is where I'd hopefully get a bite.

The first indication a fish was in the swim took far longer than expected. A tentative pull that never developed in to a bite. Encouraging though for sure, at least something was moving.

Official dusk arrived and I was getting ready to pack up when out of nowhere a violent initial foot twitch turned in to a proper wrap over of the rod and a bite usually only a Barbel could give. As soon as I picked up the rod though and felt the fish on the end I knew exactly what is was.

Another Chub, I cannot get away from them. Nothing to write home about either, probably a scraper 4lber. Give it its due though, a bit of a bruiser this fish, it must have got some stories to tell.

Anyway back home for a medicinal rum before bed a tiny fox cub waving me off as I drove up the track . Another elbow in the kidneys by the Wife over my barbel catching abilities.

"So you went to catch Barbel but you caught Chub, well ok then, ever watched the film Groundhog Day ?"

"Yes Dear !!!!"


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