Martin Bowler’s Adventures
Wildlife cameraman Hugh Miles and I enjoy a leisurely break in pursuit of barbel
In search of barbel with Hugh Miles
“Cameraman Hugh Miles is without question up there with the greats”
OF ALL those who have made a long-lasting contribution to angling, Hugh Miles is without question up there with the greats.
His vision of fishing through the television classic ‘A Passion For Angling’ will probably never be surpassed.
Working for four years with this world-class cameraman on ‘Catching the Impossible’, I concluded that the portrayal of angling is just as important as the actual catching of fish. So I was delighted when he complimented me on a short film I made with Ryan Hayden for the Drennan website called ‘The Glorious 16th’.
Hugh’s kind words also gave me an idea. We hadn’t fished together for ages, so I offered him a trip to the exact same place where we’d filmed my pursuit of barbel. It was an offer he couldn’t refuse, and a date was put in the diary.
A couple of weeks later my old friend arrived at my door. Predictably, I was still working but that could now wait as we had an angling adventure to enjoy. Hugh’s
tackle was added to mine in the back of the truck and we were soon on our way and crossing the Severn Bridge as the sun beat down over the Bristol Channel.
Below us the tide raced through the stanchions as the Wye joined with the Severn estuary and poured out to sea. The middle reaches were our destination, but with the Wye clogged with canoeists there was no rush to wet a line and take the shortest route.
Instead we took the scenic path up past Tintern while I bored Hugh with my tales of great salmon lost and landed in the lower sections.
The valley supplied some magnificent views that I’m sure Hugh would have loved to film, although he was now retired – not that I believed this for a moment!
Just as an angler can never look at water without picking a place to cast, a seasoned cameramen can’t help but frame the world for the perfect shot.
It was lovely catching up on events and talking about old times, and when the road ran out we were almost in paradise. I say ‘almost’ because there were still hordes of screaming, shouting canoeists on the water.
Hastily I reassured Hugh that tranquillity would return within the hour and we would have the river to ourselves. Meanwhile there was time to mix a little groundbait and feed the old landing stage swim that I was positive would give Hugh some great barbel sport. I moistened a bag each of Sticky Krill Active mix and halibut powder with river water and laced the mix with Ellipse pellets. Six balls landed not a rodlength out before we took to the high bank to look for any signs of fish feeding. Within a minute we had a wonderful view of barbel and chub rooting over the bottom, sending up clouds of silt. No wonder Hugh was keen to get the tackle ready. The rod was a 1¾lb test curve
model, the reel was loaded with 12lb E-S-P Syncro XT. A large Drennan Method feeder would carry more groundbait into the swim. A 2ft hooklength of 15lb fluorocarbon ended in a size 10 Super Specialist Barbel hook. To carry the pellet hookbait, Hugh tied his knotless knot, but not until after he had connected the hooklength to the feeder.
He did this by first slipping the hook on and tying a loop in the end of the line. Then he made another loop between his fingertips along the shank, similar to a spade end knot, and whipped the hair around the shank towards the eye six times. Finally, to hold everything in place, he passed the tag through the loop held in his fingertips, creating a knotless knot. Difficult to explain, but simple and ingenious in practice, and certainly something I will remember for the future! Try it!
The river fell silent, and it was time to make the first cast. I was in no rush to fish, and instead picked up the camera in a role reversal of our past relationship. For once Hugh was going to catch the fish and I was happy to take the snaps!
A ball of groundbait was thrown in downstream of the swim and Hugh cast out a pellet hookbait and held the tackle on a taut line so it fell back into a spot just behind a weedbed.
The rod butt perched on his knee soon whacked into his stomach and the tip smashed over as an angry barbel tore out into the middle of the river.
From my backlit vantage point I could clearly see the line cutting like a cheese wire through the weed and the sprays of water each time the barbel slapped its tail in defiance. Hugh was having a great time, and I realised how lucky I was to have this wonderful place as an office. Taking a backward step – usually an unattainable luxury when catching fish is a requirement – put my situation in perspective.
More barbel followed over the next couple of hours, but this wasn’t a match and we had plenty to celebrate once Hugh had had his fill. Soon it was time for a glass of red and a fish-and-chip supper.
The afternoon had been lovely, the evening equally so, and falling asleep next to the old salmon hut with a tawny owl hooting a lullaby was a perfect end to the day.
Hugh and I were ready to resume fishing at daybreak, before the crowds arrived, and by 4.30am I was watching my friend casting through the mist. A new pitch gave us a tremendous view of the valley, and the first bite of the day was a jewel in our summer idyll.
Clearly, Hugh’s passion for angling burns as brightly as ever.