An evening out

Despite hearing tales of woe about the barbel population on the river having been eaten by otters I've been getting the urge to pay them a visit recently. A change being as good as a rest I put some gear together after the cricket finished for the day and when the Archers were over I set off for an easy access stretch.

There were signs that the swims had been fished, but no anglers about. The path through the vegetation was well trampled too, but the nettles still managed to sting my bare arms as I wandered the stretch to select a swim. The one I settled into was chosen mainly from a comfort perspective, combined with ease of access to the water should I have to return a fish or two.

There were sand martins feeding their young on the wing, a sign that summer is getting ready to turn. The leaves on the trees are already darkened and meadowsweet in bloom.

Knowing the swim from previous visits I was careful to ensure the leads didn't move as I tightened to them. An old standby bait of Sonu crab Pellet-Os, three on the hair, went on the close in downstream rod and one and a half boilies went on the upstream farther out rod. In my haste I'd picked up a tub of my favourite bream/tench/carp boilies instead of the ones I prefer for barbel. They'd have to do. Not that I think a barbel would turn it's barbules up at them. It was mesh bags of mixed pellets on the hooks. Nothing fancy required.

With the baits out I played a waiting game. No frequent recasting. Sit back, tie up more pellet bags, and wait for the light to fade replacing sand martins with bats.

When it was time for a pre-dusk recast the downstream rod was snagged solid and needed re-rigging. Somehow the hooklink got tangled in the undergrowth and ended up with a knot in t. When I'd cut the knot out and retied it the hooklink was shorter than I'd have liked. It'd do.

The margins were alive with fry and there was a good hatch of flies on. So much so that I thought it was raining. I wonder if the presence of otters thinning out the barbel population will see a resurgence of roach and dace? The reports I've heard suggest this might be the case.I doubt that will draw anglers away from the muddy puddle commercials. people have got used to level banks or platforms and parking behind their swims.

It had gone half ten when the downstream rod stabbed down a couple of times then hooped over. There was one barbel in the river! Although it pulled hard and tried to run across the river it didn't stand a chance as it couldn't manage to pull any line from the drag. The rod spent most of the fight in an inverted 'U' as it absorbed the runs and lunges of what was feeling like a reasonable fish.

I managed to get the fish in the net but failed to tempt the lead to join it. Instead the lead slid down the slackened line and got stuck in the marginal rocks. I had to pull for a break to get the fish ashore! My out-of-practice guess for the barbel's weight was a pound light. A quick snap on the mat and she was slipped into a small slack to recuperate. Then I retackled and recast.

 By the time both rods were fishing again it was dark, the isotopes on my rod tips not glowing as brightly as they used to. Twelve years or so looks like time to replace them. There was broken cloud in the sky passing in front of the full moon and a hint of mist up the valley. It was a mild and still night. That didn't stop the valley's herds of slugs sliming over my unhooking mat and even onto a tub of pellets in my rucksack. Slugs must have  a well developed sense of smell.

As this was just a taster session I was going to pack up at midnight no matter what. When I did I spent a minute or two ridding everything of the slimy pests. They were on the mat, the rucksack, my chair and sling. Two had even got inside the mesh pocket of the sling. I expect that's where they'll end their days.

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Double frustration

It's unlike me to rush building rods but this year I've got ahead of myself and made a start on a few builds only for my customers to change their minds. Throw in a cancellation and a cock-up and I have a few fully built rods for sale. The list can be found here: http://www.dlst.co.uk/stock I won't split matching sets, but any rods ordered from the list during July will be carriage paid.

I was concerned that starting my eel fishing early this year might lead me to burn out before high summer arrived. I think it has. My last two sessions have resulted in one small eel and a blank. neither result encouraging me to have another try. Things are so bad I'm almost thinking of having a try for the vermin again! Or maybe I'll get some bream fishing done? Neither option is really filling me with enthusiasm.

With the rod building supply situation as dire as ever I have a stack of blanks sitting idly awaiting either reel seats or rings. Of the dozen I've put some cork on only two can be finished off until something arrives. I feel like I'm banging my head against a brick wall...

In an attempt to get round this blockage I ordered some rings from the USA. While I was browsing the website I bulked out the order by adding some stuff that isn't available at all in the UK. One of these was a spool of cord sold for wrapping around rod blanks to form grips. I'm not sure if it's an aesthetic that would work on our sort of specimen rods. As an experiment I've tried it as a grip on one of my landing net poles along with a colour combo of thread I quite like.

The first test match starts tomorrow. That might perk me up. Or not...

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Hot days, short nights

I've never been a hot weather person. And the current hot weather is melting what little drive I have to do anything. My 'can't be arsed' quotient has reached an all time high! The shortest mights of the year haven't helped my enthusiasm for either side of sunset sessions either. No sooner has it got properly dark than it's time to get to bed or risk stopping all night with no sleep. It's no wonder I usually leave the eels alone until July when the nights start to draw in a little.

All that aside the evenings and nights, when it's cooled down somewhat are great to be out in. Even cloudless skies make for atmospheric sunsets that seem to last for hours. What I have noticed on both of my latest eel sessions is that runs are coming later. Not just later by the clock but later by the sun and stars. There has been a little interest in my baits in the half hour before dark, but it's picked up over an hour after the light has gone as much as it will go before dawn. This doesn't help me get home for sleep.

I'd had a few missed and aborted takes before I started to pack up at twelve thirty on the first session, then I foul hooked a small eel, which slimed the leader good and proper. While I was sorting the mess out I had another run which I missed. If I hadn't drained the last of my bottle of pop I might have stopped a bit longer. However I did plan to start and finish later on my next session.

It was nine fifteen when the latest eel session got under way. Apart from making the tramp to the swim a little cooler it also cut out the waiting time to the start of the action. Even around ten there had been carp cruising the surface and apart from some worm nibbling the eels didn't make their presence known until eleven.

It was the usual story of twitchy takes, pinched baits, and short aborted runs. Either there are small eels pestering me or my presentation is up the Swanee. I suspect the former. While I was getting action it was sporadic. Either stick it out until late in the hope of a good one or pack in around one and get some shut eye. After missing a proper run I connected with one at twelve thirty. Not big enough to tax my new 50" landing net, or trouble the scales. But it did make me think that later might be better if I can muster the enthusiasm for an overnighter. At one I packed up and sweated my way home.

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Unpredictable results

As with election results these days it's almost impossible to predict how an eel session will pan out. A short evening session last week produced one eel but quite a few takes. The next session on Sunday, despite my expectations, resulted in just one run when I was a bout to pack up. And that was missed, at least in part because the rig was tangled. Despite being keen to get an overnight session in the weather was against me. I really don''t fancy spending a night in the rain jumping in and out of the bivvy as I try to hit takes. Election night was set to be dry with some rain in the morning. If the weather forecast was right I'd be able to pack up after sun up and get back home in the dry. So it proved.

I was set up in good time but even the worm was left alone as the sun began to sink.It was quarter to ten when the right hand deadbait absolutely tore off. Eels one, me nil. Over an hour and a half passed without any indications. The signs were that it could be a night of infrequent action but the chance of a big eel. Then the right hand rod was away again. This time I hooked the culprit. and it was doing so little it felt like I'd hooked a soft snag. Something was slowly coming towards me against the pressure of the rod. I threw the landing net in the edge and tried to push it forward to sink the mesh. Damn. It was caught on something. Keeping the rod bent I managed to untangle the mesh with my left hand. The eel was then easily netted. It wasn't as large as I'd hoped. Later I started pulling weed in from the same area and wondered if the eel had wrapped its tail around a clump.

A fresh bait was hooked up and cast out. This was picked up after 25 minutes. Another missed take. And so the usual selection of dropped and missed runs proceeded at very infrequent intervals. So infrequent I managed to nod off a time or two. Even if not for long. A couple of fish were bumped off on the strike. All the action coming to deadbaits, which was unusual.

Although the night wasn't warm it didn't feel cold either despite the heavy dew in the morning. It was a noisy night though. All night reed warblers were warbling their scratchy song, possibly because of the bright full moon, a water rail or two spent a mad ten minutes squealing, and what I took to be a snipe flew by making it's strange whirring sound. Thankfully there were no ratty rustlings in the reeds and the only rodent that made its presence known was a wood mouse. As we approach the solstice the nights are short. The sky to the north hardly got dark at all. Which only gives a few hours of  'eel time'. It was still good to be out after dark on such a night.

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No Sleep Till Breakfast

I was going to put in an overnighter on Monday night, but it started raining when I was going to get me gear sorted out. Tuesday night would do. It rained after I'd got most of the gear in my car. Then the sky brightened and off I went. The temperature had dropped from my previous session but even a north westerly wasn't too chilling. I still fancied having the wind off my back but nowhere like that at Peacock Pool looked inviting. Eventfully I got set up with the brolly at an angle to the rods where I could just about see my rods from the bedchair.

As the sun set the wind died right away and the sky cleared. The crescent moon was so bright that it cast a shadow. The incessant bleeps and blips of the previous session were notably absent. The first take I had, just before ten, to a deadbait, was a proper run. I still failed to connect. This didn't signal the start of more madness. It was fifteen minutes before the next run came. Which was also missed. After another quiet thirty odd minutes I connected with an eel to the off bottom worm. It fell off. The eel that picked up the left hand deadbait at eleven stayed hooked all the way into the net. Not one worth sliming up the weigh sling, but a start.

A combination of the slower pace of activity and the conditions made me think that there was a chance of a better than average fish. When the bootlaces are playing the bigger eels seem to get beaten to the baits.

It was still frustrating. I'd miss a run. Recast. Then sit waiting for action. When I gave up hope I'd curl up under the bedchair cover. The eels seemed to know when I was getting snug and starting to nod off. I'd leap out to the rods and miss another run. Rinse and repeat!

So it went until ten past two when a deadbait on a longer chuck was tearing off. Half way in it began to bulldog. It felt pretty reasonable as I held it on a tight line while I fiddled around trying to switch my headtorch from red to white without it flashing red. Safely netted at the second attempt and the sling and camera were going to be required. I didn't feel like a wrestling contest so I put the fish back after a couple of 'sling shots'.

With a fresh bait out I got an hour's rest before the takes picked up frequency again. By then the sky was showing some light and a sedge warbler woke up. Soon the dawn chorus began in earnest, accompanied by the occasional distant cock crow. The takes became less frequent. Not expecting any action once the sun was in the sky I began to tidy my stuff away. Then I had two runs in quick succession. Which I missed. Of course.  Quarter past five would be home time.

I was well knackered as I pushed my barrow load of gear back to the car. That's the trouble with all night eel fishing. It's often impossible to get any sleep unless you don't bother checking to see if they've pinched your baits when you get a dropped run!

What had been encouraging was that the takes were peeling line from the baitrunners, even with the rod tips at an angle to the baits. Like most fish, I suppose, even eels have days when they aren't bothered by resistance. Or is that a myth?

The sun was rising casting it's beams through the mist swirling off the water promising a warm day to come. It'll be meteorological summer tomorrow. So it'll probably snow.

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The maddening eel

After my eel session I determined to get myself some worms before having another go. There were still a few deadbaits and some squid in the freezer but lobs would give me another option on the off-bottom rig. When the worms arrived, on the hottest day of the year so far and with the warmest night promised it seemed like too good an opportunity to miss.

Even arriving after eight in the evening it was still red hot. There was hardly a breath of wind to ruffle the surface and even in the shade of the lowering sun it was t-shirt warm. I spent a good ten minutes drilling holes for my rear banksticks before casting out a head and a tail and then rigging up the worm rod. The rig was all set up and just needed a bomb to finish it off when I couldn't find a bomb. I was sure there were some in the rucksack, but no. For some reason the eel box had three back leads in it. I pulled the clip off one, tied a uni-knot in the end of the lead link and tightened it down on the backlead's stalk. I was in business!

Why you can't buy simple hooks like you used to remains a mystery to me. Drennan used to do a long shank hook which I liked for fishing worms, but long shanked hooks with simple O'Shaughnessy or round bends have all been replaced by 'carp' hooks. The closest to what I'd like that I've found so far are Varivas 'Semi Circle' hooks which I bought late last summer after my eeling was over. The eyes are a bit small, but wire or Kevlar braid will go through even on the size four. As I didn't seem to have any eel traces made up I've put these hooks on my dedbait traces too. The wire of the size fours is a bit finer than I'd like, but the 1/0s are spot on. I hope!

By eight thirty Fred and I were sat watching the rods and listening to the radio as the evening failed to cool down any. We weren't expecting any action until well after nine in any event. Sure enough it was almost ten, still t-shirt warm, when the head section fished to my left tore off. And so the madness began. I didn't keep a note of how many twitchy takes and dropped or missed runs I got. There were lots. As soon as the marginal off-bottom worms were discovered that bobbin was never still until the worms had gone. I ended up fishing just a single lob on that rig with the same result. Almost constant activity but nothing to connect with.

Takes to the deadbaits were more sporadic. The tail section cast well out disappeared from a single bleep. I replaced that with a lobworm and it was pounced on immediately. Every now and then the right hand alarm would signal a positive run. Some were missed, one was connected with until whatever was on the hook came off it a rod length out. Anyone who strikes at the slightest hint of a take this would have ended up in a strait-jacket! Being of a less intense nature I can eventually tune myself to respond only to positive runs.

The run that came to the head section rod at five to midnight was the sort that wasn't going to stop. At last I hooked one. Plainly not pulling back very hard, at least it was an eel. I left it in the landing net while I packed the other rods and everything else away. When I came to lift the net ashore the eel had done the decent thing and unhooked itself.

Back at the car the thermometer was reading 18 degrees. I removed the sweatshirt I'd put on an hour earlier and drove home with the window wound right down on a still and sultry night.

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