Tales from the Riverbank

Tales from the River Bank

Fish don’t contract Covid. You could tell by the number of anglers on the river on the 16th June, the start of the season. It’s good to see that the sport is still going strong, not that you see many youngsters fishing nowadays. Which was why I was delighted to be asked by a local mum to help her son learn how to fish.

So Will Scobie and I ventured out on our quest for the the holy grayling. In fact it was the first fish he caught. It was about 9 inches long and he was delighted, but when I told him this was nothing other than a good start and he had to keep his eye on his rod or it would disappear into the river, he looked at me with a suspicious “yeah, right, pull the other one” look on his face.

Fishing midway between the farm and distant pylon, he soon learnt the standards required - patience, calm, blend in with the river bank and quietly wait. Don’t worry if you don’t catch anything I told him, the fish are there and you will be one trip nearer to your first big fish. Like a Jedi Knight my young accomplice kept his counsel, politely asked questions and we waited. Use your senses Luke, Obi Wan Kenobi told Luke Skywalker, and I told Will to do the same.

Using sweet corn as bait on top of hemp seed ground bait to attract the fish into position, his line started twitching. Don’t strike, I told him (strike - the bait is in the fish’s mouth and you sharply pull the rod embedding the hook), the barbel will hook itself before you know it and the knocks on the line are frequently fish bumping into your line.

So we waited. It always happens when you least expect it. A kingfisher, a luminous blue dart flew past at speed and as we were marvelling at nature’s wonder his rod bent over and headed towards the river. Senses Luke - stay cool and do your best to keep the fish in the middle of the river so it doesn’t get in the tree roots or you will lose it. And Will did it himself, the protege wanted to catch the fish with no help from the tutor and didn’t he do well, his first 7lb Barbel. The fish was hooked and so was Will. Of interest was the fact that part of the fish’s tail was missing and there was an injury to its flank that I had seen before. A bite mark. Signs of a predator.

Our next trip saw more Barbel, but the river dealt us a thrilling card. As I was reeling in a smaller Barbel, perhaps 4lb, I could see it was being harassed by a larger fish. A monster of a pike. We tried to net the two fish but it was never going to work.

Obi Wan and Luke met to plan the capture of the pike.

It had to be a live bait. It had to be held in position in the river against the flow. It had to be one shot.

The plan was hatched. A heavy weight would hold the position in the river but the line ran free to a float which then suspended the live bait, a small fish, hooked to a steel trace.

All was quiet. We could just see the fish swimming around, and when we couldn’t, the float bobbed gently moving around telling us the fish was still there. I thought I saw a flicker of reflection in the water....or perhaps not. Then the float started moving upstream. Will, I think we’re in, I whispered.

The pike started moving towards a tree. Not good, if it goes in the he’s gone so.......STRIKE.

The river exploded into a boiling cauldron as the pike stripped the line off the screaming reel then danced on its tail in an effort to shed the hook. As it hit the water we saw the live bait make a highly improbable dash for freedom while the pike looked menacing holding its position not giving ground and making run after run with the reel screaming as it did. After 10 minutes we hauled it in, all 16 pounds of it.

It’s great when a plan comes together.

ANDREW RODGER