OPENING DAYS I’LL ALWAYS CHERISH
To me, June 16 means just one thing – catching barbel from a big, wild river
FOR me the ‘Glorious 16th’ of June will always be special, even if nowadays it’s only meaningful to those who love to fish running water.
It reminds me of the countdown to Christmas when I was a child – indeed, anticipating an opening day trip was just as exciting as making the first cast.
Come June 15 the tackle shops would be overflowing with customers and the atmosphere was electric, especially for a
young lad like me who found the whole world of angling so enthralling.
This age of innocence was without doubt the most exciting time in my angling career but even now, with far more wisdom under my belt, those first casts of the new season remain special. Not all have been spectacularly successful, but I recall every single one.
Catching a bus to Bedford as a teenager was an hour’s ride to the river, and not something I’d normally do.
Strange how fishing changed that attitude, but I’m not sure if the small chub and all night spent lying on the freezing ground were worth it!
The bus driver certainly didn’t think so on the journey home, when my stinking keepnet soaked the floor!
Fast-forward to 2008, and I’d left Bedfordshire long ago. What could be a more fitting place to
make the first cast of the season than the enigmatic Hampshire Avon? It was a misty, dew-laden morning, and I left a ghostly trail of footprints through the water meadow as I headed to the river with barbel on my mind.
These fish are never in pristine condition this early in the year, but there’s no better species to give you your first bite.
The pellet boom was in full swing, but the fish here were still naïve about these fishmeal nuggets, so they’d be my bait today.
There was no need for complex rigs or tactics. Tucked into an intimate swim between reed beds, with not another soul in sight, I rigged up a 1.75lb test curve rod and a reel carrying 12lb mainline. I clipped on a Kamasan Black Cap feeder with added weight – a ‘dead cow’. This was loaded with 3mm halibut pellets which would tumble out of the feeder’s enlarged holes.
My coated braid hooklength ended in a size 10 hook carrying two Elipse pellets from Stick Baits, glued back-to-back on the hair. I was now ready to cast to a far-bank gravel run and wait for the feeder’s contents to spill out between the stones.
Topside I could only guess what was going on beneath the surface, but my tensioned quivertip would give me a clue. A slow pull before the tip sprang back meant a line bite, and I knew that one barbel, at least, was happy to find the river bed strewn with free offferings.
I always think the best part of fishing is waiting for a bite, and after a three-month break you can imagine how I was feeling, with the Avon at my feet and knowing a barbel was feeding near my hookbait.
The bite, when it finally came, made it the perfect morning. The rod-tip crashed over as a barbel tore off downstream, bewildered by the feeder that dogged its flight no matter how hard the fish shook its head.
The bronze torpedo couldn’t be turned as the clutch yielded, its screech briefly drowning out the persistent two-note call of a nearby cuckoo.
There are no short cuts in a
“The bite, when it finally came, made it the perfect morning”
fight with a barbel. Every one of my knots was tested as the fish made repeated bids to weed me up, but ultimately this 11-pounder was safe in my landing net – a lovely start that only got better when an hour later another double-figure barbel gave me the run-around.
Why do I remember this opening day trip over all others when the fish weren’t my best June 16 catch? Perhaps I’d come to learn that size isn’t everything – the atmosphere and location are every bit as important!
Moving on, in my experience the Wye rarely fishes well on June 16, as the barbel are still sitting on their spawning redds. In 2014, however, spawning was early and the fish had already moved to their summer quarters. Floodwater had lifted and coloured the river, a far cry from the algal blooms that seem to have become a fixture in recent years.
I took a boat downriver, laden with my tackle. The Wye was running hard so I headed for a submerged salmon crib that would give me a firm and safe footing. My intention was to stand waist-deep in the river which, I find, connects me spiritually to the watery world I love so much.
Securely positioned,
I laced a gravel run downstream with six heavy balls of fishmeal groundbait packed with pellets and broken boilies.
At the time I had my own Xtracta brand on the market, and it was tremendous for enticing barbel, so I was confident that I’d be fishing for a shoal of feeding fish.
To complement the groundbait approach I used a tactic that’s still super-efficient on the Wye today – the Method feeder. Fished with a short hooklength and a boilie compressed into the payload, it can make catching barbel very easy.
Wye barbel take no prisoners, and nor does the rock-strewn river bed, so my 2.25lb test curve rod and 15lb line were not over the top. With an almighty splash the feeder landed in place, and I didn’t have long to wait for my first bite. This is a tactic that gives instant results, and once the feed is dislodged from the frame it’s time to reel in, reload and repeat the process.
On this Glorious 16th virtually every cast resulted in a bite before the river could wash away the groundbait, and I caught barbel until I wished for no more. It all became too easy, a rare predicament to have in mid-June!
I won’t be grumbling if I have the same problem this week, and I hope that wherever you start, your opening day trip will be truly memorable.