Its a dry Wye, but we'll have a try

Apologies for the delay in writing a blog for those that do follow my ramblings, but I've been busy with work and getting the book ready on Amazon so I can publish in December. I have managed a couple of trips over the last week cumulating in a wonderful road trip to the gorgeous Wye Valley in Hertfordshire.

Our first effort was to try once again for the Spotted Ray, I have tried several times this year for one of these little rays via boat and shore. This trip was to a pier mark that had produced a number of spotty's to fellow dangler Paul Lorimore, he very kindly gave me a ton of info on the mark and where to target the rays. The afternoon was spent in the kitchen making homemade Pasty's plus small squid and sandeel wraps, that way both the family and Rays would be happy.

I drove the 1.5hr journey up to the mark in north Devon and the weather was far from inspiring with driving rain and a blustery wind. We pulled up in the car park to find it fairly empty apart from a couple of drongo's spinning round the car park in their pimped up Corsa, complete with spoiler and fandango wheels. The rain eased enough to get set up and walk the short distance to the mark, both rods were cast on the hotspots and baited with the perfect little wraps, Chris put one rod out for ray and one for conger. We were fishing the last of the ebb tide and the water on the Bristol channel rises and falls with incredible speed, this leads too a few moves up and down the pier. The rain had returned and great sheets of it shimmered in the lights of the harbour, after such a prolonged bright spell the rain was a novelty, well initially. Chris's conger rod rattled angrily as an eel mouthed the mackerel head, sure enough the strike resulted in resistance and a strap conger was hoisted aboard the pier. Great start, we both thought this was the beginning of some frenzied fish feeding.

Well 2hrs passed and that novelty rain had become a proper pain in the rear end, added to this fact was the incredible stillness of the rods, even the intrusion of the bait robber crabs had long since ended.

I had one bite during the whole session and even that fish decided it didn't like the taste of the bait, maybe I should have swapped the pasty's with the sandeels. With the flood tide well under way and work in the morning we decided that once again the spotted ray had eluded us, better to sleep and fight another day!

Well another day, was the following Saturday morning and the rain had departed, but with a few days of good heavy showers we decided to go out too the lakes and try for a crucian carp in the golden lake. The crucians had only been stocked the previous autumn and were only a couple of inches long, but another species is another species regardless of size so that was the challenge. The method was size 18 hooks 2lb bottom and swimfeeder for me, Chris opted for float and was quickly rewarded with a brightly coloured orfe.

I was missing more bites than I could afford too and that's the problem going from a beachcaster to a light feeder rod, its a question of scale, poor eyes and slow reactions compound the problem. The next bite however even a giant Galapagos 'tortoise would have reached in time, the rod tip doubled over and a strong fish made for the abundant lily beds. Steady pressure won the day and despite the tiny hook and trace the fish was safety netted, a lovely golden tench.

Still no sign of a crucian but with plenty of bubbling going on in the swim, it would surely only be a matter of time. Then Chris's float dipped slowly beneath the water and the first crucian carp wriggled on the surface, not huge but bigger than they went in. The coloured water had caused them to lose their lovely buttery golden flanks but I'm sure as the water clears, this will once again return.

We fished on for another hour but that was the only crucian that appeared, so that was now two trips in a row that my target species had eluded me, the frustrations of fishing. With the weekend over it was now time for the main event, a road trip for a couple of days fishing the river Wye. I have tried for my first ever barbel on a number of occasions even joining barbel supremo Des Taylor for a guided night trip, such is my bad luck with the species that we blanked that night. I should add that the trip with Des was to target double figure fish and that was always going to be a tough challenge. For the purpose of my charity challenge I really wanted to catch a barbel off my own back, both Chris and I had spent a great deal of time learning the ways of the Wye's whiskered warrior. I had booked us a few days, staying at the Red Lion Inn, Bredwardine, Hertfordshire, they own around 4 miles of the river wye in some truly stunning countryside. The plan was to travel up early Monday stopping at Woody's tackle shop in Hereford for maggots and to pick local expert Woody's brains, its always great to support these local tackle shops, when there gone, there gone, and you wont get local knowledge mail order! Chris and I loaded the popemobil Sunday night and headed off at 5.30am sharp, we were having breakfast at the café next to the tackle shop by 8.30am, having had a perfect trip up.

With the delights of a fresh cooked breakfast safely packed away, we had a stroll around Woody's tackle emporium, picking up a few spare feeders, boilie needles and plenty of maggots. I explained to Woody what we were doing and my challenge, he then offered to put us on a few good spots Wednesday morning if we failed on the Red Lion beats, anyone visiting Hereford pop in and support Woody, he is a top bloke. We had a stroll down to the supermarket to get a few supplies and I noticed an amazing sculpture on the roundabout made of scrap metal, I simply had to grab a picture, we first thought a Kingfisher but on hindsight maybe its a wood pecker either way I loved it.

With the SAS stronghold of Hereford visited it was now time, to get up the road, get checked in and down on the river, the day was slipping away. It was only 10 miles from Hereford to the Red Lion Inn and we weren't able to check-in to our room before midday, so a quick stop at the iconic bridge on the road up to the pub was in order. I love my bridges, working with them everyday, and this bridge from the 1700s is a wonderful example of superb engineering, built to join the two neighbouring hamlets its as good today as it was then.

The Red Lion itself is an old coaching Inn from the mid 1700s and the whole area is steeped in a rich tapestry of history and folklore. We could quickly see that despite the recent heavy rains the river level was painfully low and the flow at the bridge was hardly moving, there was however still a tinge of colour. We pulled up at the pub and while Chris ambled off to find some life in the seemingly deserted inn, I went and checked out a small feeder stream in the hope of a minnow or two. The stream was virtually dry but next to it sat a lovely map of the valley we planned to explore over the next few days, this really is a beautiful area and I thoroughly recommend it for a visit.

Chris returned, having found the owner Mike at the rear of the building, he was happy for us to go straight in the room as it was all ready, and once we were settled he would run through the fishing beats. It took us literally 5 minutes to chuck the stuff in the room and decide who had the big bed, before we were in the pub nagging Mike for the information on the river. Clearly Mike has done this a thousand times but for us it was exciting to put all our research into practice and the challenge of a new species in an alien environment is both exhilarating and thought provoking. Mike produced our own personal map, which he quickly marked up with the most productive swims for our list of species, he stayed clear of giving any specific details opting to suggest we stay mobile in order to find the fish.

As good as the above map was, it neglected to mention the huge emotionally challenged, black bull residing in the field, patrolling many of the beats. I have now included the animal to scale on the map above, should anyone else fall foul of this grumpy bovine, unfortunately as I wasn't driving I became the designated gate opener stroke bull wrangler. With daylight burning we jumped in the car and headed off through the myriad of gates, fields and tracks to the last car compound. Our plan was to fish with cage feeders loaded with groundbait and pellet hook baits, using just one quivertip rod each to enable a roaming approach. The first look at the river clearly showed the remaining water was confined to shallow glides punctuated by a sprinkling of deep pools with little to no flow. It can be tricky picking the best time to visit the Wye and all around us was the evidence of the extreme levels the river can reach, many meters above where we were standing. The first pool we stopped at was a mixture of rapids, into a slow glide cumulating in a pool several meters deep, our theory was, that this section had a bit of everything. Despite my overwhelming desire to catch a Barbel I was also here for a number of species and opted to change to the maggot feeder with maggots on the hook, in the hope of getting a Dace.

The first cast over to the far bank resulted in a plethora of sharp bites and upon striking the maggots had been sucked to death, this process was repeated several times before a change was needed. With the arrival of a handsome pair of swans I was once again fishing, having scrounged a small hook from Chrissy Crabtree, who settled into the role of river roamer very quickly, landing the first chub.

With the scaled down tackle now back in the swim, I felt I was in with a greater chance of connecting with one of the little torpedo's , sure enough the changes resulted in my first fish of the trip, another of my favourites the humble Gudgeon.

With the first fish on the board the next one quickly followed and his time, it was one of my target species, the flighty little dace making species number 59.

Chris also managed several dace having swapped to maggots, just so we could enjoy the fun of this amazing river, by catching a fish a chuck. Reluctantly we decided we needed to see more of the beats and moved on down river to another nice looking area, sticking with the maggots produced yet another of the species I was after, the Minnow, this abundant little fish form into great shoals, pouncing on any food items that drop into the river, like toothless piranha, species number 60.These are the fish that have adorned many a child's jam jar, while undertaking their first river dipping adventure, their appearance is a sign of a healthy eco system.

With the first afternoon slipping into evening we came across another angler staying at the Inn, the section he and his wife were fishing was the best section of river we had seen and we surveyed the water with envious eyes. This was compounded further when he told us he had managed a small barbel and 4 decent chub that afternoon, he was however now leaving if we wished to jump in the section. We didn't need asking twice and Chris fetched the car so we could bring down a second rod a piece, and try for the fish we were really after, the barbel. This swim had a lovely fast, shallow section, pumping oxygen rich water into a steady glide with large willows and black thorns overhanging the far bank. The section went on for several hundred meters and the depths looked around 3 to 4 feet over the far side, perfect in the present condition's.

Our new best friend wished us luck and headed off for a slap up meal in the pub, no doubt washed down with a pint of the local cider, to us a barbel was still more appealing. The method I had opted for, was one rod fished carp style with a small meaty boilie coupled with a method feeder, the second was a quivertip, cage feeder and double 8mm pellet. I then introduced a catapult full of pellets every 10 minutes, this resulted in several fish topping in the swim and loads of line bites on the fine quivertip. Chris had gone similar but with luncheon meat as a hook bait after hearing that's what our friend had been using all day. With the dusk approaching and a real feeling of confidence building the rod tip arched round and I was into my first decent feeling fish, the lightish tackle was great with the river being so low. The fish tried to get back to the overhanging trees but lost the battle, Chris scooped up what was clearly a personal best Chub. The fish would have probably been in the 3 to 4lb bracket but I remember being slightly disappointed it wasn't the barbel I so desired, that I didn't even weigh it, very poor on my behalf.

It was then Mr Crabtree's turn and he also added a chub to the proceeding's that was no doubt his personal best, we added several more of these greedy chub in the next hour and started to wonder if there were any barbel in the swim.

Finally I had a take on my rod that didn't just pull the tip over but the rod out of the stand, upon striking the line started disappearing as the fish shot off downstream. Sometimes fish make errors of judgement just like us anglers and this barbel turned around and came back upstream towards me, it was just a case of steady directing and the fish was in the net. At last with several attempts at barbel from a number of rivers the curse was finally broken, and in the net was species 61 a gorgeous river Wye barbel. Well I say gorgeous, it was in fact slightly bent with some sort of banana effect on its tail, I however, considered it a thing of beauty and punched the air in excitement.

The fish wasn't huge by barbel standards weighing 6lb 1oz but in difficult conditions and caught by my own fair hand I felt it a real result, after a quick picture I spent 10 minutes with the fish getting it re-oxygenated before it swam off strongly. Big fish like this should never be let go straight away while the river is in the conditions like it is, they could easily belly up further down the river. By keeping the fish well oxygenated in some faster water until you feel them kicking it ensures they are strong enough to get back to the main river.

We stayed on till 8.45pm but there were no further bites and as I was starving and with the thought of our swim buddy tucking into some pub grub weighing heavy on my mind we headed back across the fields. As we reached the penultimate gate a huge black wall blocked our way, the Bull had appeared, it took a step to the side and as I went to open the door stomped its feet and huffed aggressively , " looks like we are stopping here then" I stated to Chris. I had no intention of getting out to open the gate by moving the great cape water buffalo that blocked our way. Chris however can be just as pig headed as that beast and climbed out to move him along, the creature reluctantly moved but turned and looked me straight in the eyes, I knew it was thinking if I catch you, I will kill you! I had a sudden urge to order the biggest of steaks that evening, thus creating my own act of defiance .

We arrived back at the pub after last food orders thanks largely to Bullgate, but Mike kindly arranged for the chef to knock us up some scampi and chips. We entered the bar and it was one of those slaughtered lamb moments, with a strange array of locals spread around the room, cauliflower Colin sat in one corner telling the tale of how he discovered the joys of cauliflower cheese after his third wife left him. The stool at the bar was occupied by Pat the poacher who was not only dismayed at the lack of rabbits but that he was only on his second divorce. Mike sat on the big chair and undertook the role of judge and jury dealing out the odd verdict as and when he saw fit to do so. The bar maid stood aimlessly filing her nails only punctuated by the odd request for a drink or too boost the morale of the clearly insecure chef, Lionel, with the odd food based compliment. As you can see Chris and I fitted in a treat, and after a hearty meal and a couple of warm ciders I was off to bed, Chrissy crabtree however was with his type of people, staying behind to spin a few yarns. I was soon asleep in the straight jacket like bed, so soft that it literally started to eat you, and unless you woke every 10 minutes you would be in too deep to climb free. When I woke I was greeted to the sound of a traction engine going through a long tunnel, it would then pause before starting up even louder. This was in fact the sound of newly named Combustion Chris, throat bellowing, I was never going to sleep with that racket going on and needed to think of something fast, as a tired me isn't a happy bunny. The plan I came up with was maybe a little basic, and involved going into the bathroom and filling my ears with rolled up toilet paper in an effort to create my own diy noise cancelling system. Upon re-entering the bedroom Chris had woken and asked why I had toilet paper sticking out of my ears, but because I could no longer hear correctly my reply was more of a yell, " BECAUSE YOUR BLOODY SNORING IS KEEPING ME AWAKE". Now, that didn't come out as tactfully as I had hoped, and once I climbed back into bed I noticed the skulking silhouette of Chris, slipping out of the room like a scalded puppy. That was the last I saw of him that night, and I felt really awful, well I felt really awful until I fell into a deep relaxing sleep without a care in the world. The next morning saw the puppy return and I did apologise, especially as I found out he slept in the car all night, and there I was thinking he had bunked up with new mate, cauliflower Colin. The breakfast was excellent and we were soon finished and ready for the second day on the river, the plan today was fish until 1pm then return to the pub to meet up with midlands maestro and long term mate Nick Rose. Nick was coming down for a few hours floatfishing and to meet up for lunch, nice little catch up with the benefit of a beautiful river back drop. We were soon fishing again in another nice section of river and my worm bait was grabbed by the mother of all minnows, this was clearly another personal best, but I don't have scales small enough to weigh this slab of a minnow.

With the excitement of the minnow over with, it was a morning of the usual suspects, we caught plenty of dace, chub and gudgeon but no barbel, the river had in fact dropped further and cleared. We walked several pools and glides but none had the perfect combination of the long stretch, we decided as we were staying on later tonight we would visit that beat again. We packed up, so we could be back at the pub to meet Nick for 13.00, the journey through the fields was bull free and we made it back bang on time. Nick text me from the front of the pub, simply saying "oh bugger, the pub is shut", sure enough, turns out Tuesday the Red Lion doesn't open lunchtimes. Fortunately Nick had been to the area a number of times and new another pub that served good food, this also turned out to be closed Tuesdays, what is this some sort of incovienent tradition, are Tuesdays Witch burning day! Nicks final plan was to drive to Haye on the Wye in the hope of finding a chip shop, for anyone that hasn't been to Haye on the Wye I can sum it up by saying its a Librarians Shangra la! Every shop is a book shop.I have never seen so many book shops and the worst of it was, Nick knew it was wall to wall book stores, and I may be speaking out of turn here, but poets, authors and scholars don't strike me as the kebab types. Of course we never found the greasy spoon we so desired and had to make do with the smallest Spar shop I've ever been in, literally it required a give and take system to move down the aisle's. I made the mistake of getting caught between a pair of rather rotund librarians sifting through the bargain basket, I couldn't back up as a young mother had illegally parked her pram infront of the cheese section and gone off to the cold meats. I needed to get out of this hell hole, so with a medium white sliced loaf and pack of cooked turkey I squeezed through to the checkout and extradited myself. We all had purchased some type of food too sustain for the coming night and headed off back to the river for the start of the evenings fishing. When we arrived at the gate the mammoth was once again blocking the way, but with Nick following behind I decided to face my fear and open the gate, he stomped he's feet and snorted but I pushed the gate towards him, upon turning around I noticed Chris leaning from the car window, waving a red towel at the animal, what a dirty trick! I managed to survive and now I didn't feel so bad about the snoring complaint, the rest of the drive to the river was monster free. Despite Chris waving the red rag to the bull I let him choose swims, he chose the swim where I had caught the banana barbel from, I went above in the faster water, Nick went below to trot a stick float through the lower section. I noticed a trout jumping in the faster part of the rapids and decided to cast a lobworm right on it to instigate a bit of action, a perfect cast resulted in an instant take and the fast juddery fight must be the result of a feisty little brown trout, no, it turned out to be a little barbel just to wind Chris up even more.

Nick was getting a dace every trot and the river was packed with so much life its incredible to see, plenty for the kingfishers that constantly sped passed with their shrill whistle and electric blue plumage. Nick then had a nice little chub on the stick float and despite his reluctance I forced a photo out of the old geezer, the smile though was extra.

Before we knew it the darkness fell around us and the distant squark of the departing Heron signified the witching hour was upon us, the river itself seems to come alive in the darkness with the babbling water almost having its own language. The chub went on a bit of a feeding spree and we caught several in quick succession, their aggressive bites clearly visible on the rod tips silhouetted against the purple sky. Chris managed one of around 3lb 8oz but with this being the final evening he was desperate for his first barbel. I recast a pellet covered with paste somewhere out into the gloom, it splashed, so it was in the river somewhere, I placed the rod on the rest only for it to be yanked violently down, I was attached to another barbel. The fish swam upstream and just stayed in the centre of the river head into the rapids, Chris waded out in the now ever shallowing water with the net. My non fish spooking red head lamp just wasn't producing enough light and Chris reluctantly switched on his 10'000 lumen headtorch, instantly a million midges surrounded his head and we opted to stick with the red light. The fish was once again expertly netted by the man with the midge covered head. I unhooked the fish then went to grab the camera wile Chris and Nick weighed it, 6lb 2oz was the agreed weight, this got me a bit suspicious and a quick look at the tail revealed it was indeed the banana barbel at 1oz heavier, a new personal best, just 24hrs after the first.

With that fish landed I decided to call it a night, Chris was determined to catch and decided to stay on by the river, Nick was heading back to brum and agreed to drop me off at the hotel on the way. I really hoped Chris got something during the night for his efforts, as to my mind he had worked his socks off and payback was required. After a shower, coffee and sandwich I was off for a good nights kip, this was interrupted by a text from Chrissy crabtree, was this the news we had been hoping for, not really, he had just lost a barbel after the hook pulled out, sometimes it just doesn't happen. The next morning I was up and packed ready to leave following breakfast but with no sign of Chris it was clear he did indeed spend the night on the bank. I gave him a quick text to ask if he was coming back for breakfast, he replied he was on his way. Turned out he lost a second barbel in the night that snapped the line after running down river, this pushed his despondence over the edge and he packed up opting to sleep on the grass under the stars. We of course had plan Z, this was to head to Woody's tackle shop in Hereford and see if he could point us towards one of the smaller more abundant barbel in the town section. Breakfast was once again delicious and we settled up with Mike and thanked him for some wonderful hosting, although Chris paid for two nights bed & breakfast without actually using the bed. We got to Woody's about 9.30 and purchased two day tickets which included a free bit of Woody info scribbled on the map, we managed to drive around aimlessly for 30 minutes before giving in to the lure of the sat nav. Eventually we pulled into the car park next to the river ,by sheer luck we bumped into the bailiff, another wonderful guy that directed us to a swim where we might get a barbel. We planned to leave for home at 14.00 at the latest, and with 10.30 approaching we had 3hrs fishing time to try for some barbel. We were only permitted one rod on the tickets and opted for the quivertip, these having been the most suitable for the conditions. The swim was a narrow section with some thick overgrowth on the far side, a nice rapid section entered the stretch from the left and another section of rapids exited 50yds downstream. Immediately we were aware of the more industrial feel of the river with road saws and excavators clunking in the distance, a pair of swans brought over their cygnets for a look at the strange men.

We were also seeing a lot more Kayakers on this section and Chris kept quoting its a bit like last of the Mohicans here, I will say that of the numerous kayakers we encountered, all were courteous and kept clear of our lines, this was reflected in our own behaviour with a polite thank you.

The bailiff had recommended luncheon meat as the bait doing the business at this time, Chris went with the advice and I stuck with what had worked for me previously, pellet covered in paste, combined with a cage feeder and groundbait. I think its good to try different things so there's more chance of stumbling across the right combination. I fired out a couple of catapults of pellet and sat back in the chair, the rod butt nearly hit me in the head as the tip was pulled down with such force. I grabbed the rod as a powerful fish stripped line and headed down towards Chris, I couldn't stop it but eventually it changed direction and shot off upstream. Chris came over net in hand and really couldn't believe I was attached to another barbel, " you really are a lucky sod with the barbel he exclaimed". Where this may have been true for this particular trip it has not been the case on many other attempts, I believe I once spent 3 fruitless days for barbel on the Hampshire Avon. This fish was a much better fish than the little rapid runner or the banana barbel, and as it slowly kited towards the slacker water in the margins its great coppery form grew visible. Once the fish broke the surface it did look very decent and I really thought I had caught my first double figure barbel, Chris squeezed it in the net on the second go and we were both blown away with the pure quality of the fish. We weighed the fish quickly and despite my best attempt it didn't quite make the double, coming in at 9lb 6oz, I got some quick shots before wading out for the 10 minute check with the fish.

Chris just needed a slice of luck, that couldn't be the only barbel in the swim and we tried everything to try and induce another take but it really came down too being in the right place at the wrong time. If we were on this swim for the evening, then I really think another couple of fish would have come our way, I've learned a lot in a short time and will be trying for a double in the autumn on the river Severn and maybe this time Chris will have his red letter day. The only species on my list for this trip I didn't get was the Bleak and they were there, I just got a bit too distracted by the wonderful barbel to get out the whip and size 20 hook. Thanks Mike at the Red Lion for a wonderful stay, and thanks Nick for driving down and taking us around book world. Many thanks also to Woody at the best of Hereford tackle shops and Hereford Angling Association for running a first class stamp of waters. Much thanks to Chris though for driving, netting, photographing, snoring and putting up with me, I have my fingers crossed that Tuesday you get a shark to pay you back for all those efforts. Finally to my wife and kids that have been so so supportive through this year, I promise next year I will only fish half as much as this year, but twice as much as the previous one. Below is a quick peak at the book cover that will be on my book for sale prior to Christmas, I don't know what the costs will be until its finished but the paperback will be available to order direct from Amazon.

This weekend its the Penzance species festival, should be a bit of banter, the Happy Danglers put on a boat driven by Captain Howell what can possibly go wrong! I will be trying for the greater weaver and dragonet but may have to settle for a John Dory.