A Winters Day on the Wye.

[Catfish.017]

With advancing years and the attendant failing memory there are literally hundreds of fishing days lived through but now lost in the mists of time. I fished the Wye a lot when young and keen but over the last couple of decades my visits had dwindled to the point where some Winters I barely went there at all. I say Winters because for me, fishing the Wye was always a Winter affair with Chub, Roach and Dace in mind and always a chance of a decent Perch or three!
The particular day I'm recalling stands out for several,reasons but mainly the capture of my biggest Barbel. Some five years previously a dozen of us held a small 'roving' match at Belmont but on the right bank bordered by the Belmont Golf Club, a day ticket stretch that one or two of the lads knew quite well though I think it may well have been my first visit there? Anyway I drew Number six and set off in search of a likely pitch. I soon found a nice looking run, the tail of a large pool shelving up to about three foot deep and, importantly, small fish topping regularly. As I tackled up I noticed Chris, a boyhood pal, setting up on a mid river shingle bank just above a bend around a hundred yards downstream. Intrigued, once I was ready I went down to have a look at his swim and realised straight away that we had all missed that one. A nicely paced run caused by rhe shingle bank ran under far bank trees for around thirty yards. It looked really good.
I caught nearly twenty pounds of small Dace and Chublets on the waggler coming second to Chris who more than doubled that with Chub and small Barbel on the feeder! I made a mental note of that pitch and resolved to return for a pleasure session in the future. As often happens, events conspired to delay this return for those five years. The main stumbling block being that the river needed to be normal level to be able to access the mid river bank, a pretty tall order on the Winter Wye.
Then mid November 2007 it all came together and Peter and I paid our ten pounds and walked down to the river. I walked up and down looking for the spot to no avail and it slowly became apparent that intervening floods had washed the bank away. Indeed the stretch was barely recognisable and on the near bank an old Salmon groyne had reappeared having previously been completely obscured by shingle!
Slightly miffed, I headed upstream in search of an alternative pitch walking the full length of the stretch and passing Peter en route sat on a nice looking deep glide. I doubled back to a spot where a pacy run angled diagonally into the near bank below a sunken Willow just downstream of where I decided to sit, perched precariously on a steep, grassy bank. Inside the run a slowly rotating eddy looked quite inviting. I couldn't understand how it wasn't a recognised swim with a more comfortable dugout but Hey Ho!
I trotted along the creas for an hour or so with no signs so after a while I set up the old Ealing Avon with my spare reel a Mitchell 304 with 9lb Bayer Perlon on the spool. Legering a big lump of meat, first cast I realised there was only about twenty yards of line on the spool! Once everything was in place there were a few yards remaining on the reel.
I soon got a thumping bite and a three pound Chub gave me little trouble on the strong line.

It was a cold day and after some forty minutes with no more bites I decided to fire up the Kelly Kettle for a brew. A tricky operation carried out a couple of yards above the rod which I kept glancing at as it was still fishing. I heard the creak of cane first then looked down to see the Avon bent double and about to topple off the rest into the river! I jumped down and grabbed it in the knick of time and soon realised this was no Chub. I back wound to the end of the line then hung on for grim death! Happily it all held and eventually a hefty Barbel was mine

I took a quick snap perched on the steep bank, guessed it as between nine and ten pounds then slipped it back. The tea was most welcome after that excitement. I got two or three smaller Chub through the afternoon then with the temperature really dropping I packed and headed off downstream to find Peter still in the same spot but sadly biteless. As we walked back a mist was beginning to lift off the land, obscuring the peachy glow on the horizon which brought back memories of many a Wye dusk viewed accross a field of red Herefordshire farmland.

[Carl Hier]

Only just saw this and thoroughly enjoyed the write-up.
I too have fond memories of the Wye in winter, firstly many years ago when I was only a ‘junior’ in my local club competitions and simply didn’t have the know-how to catch more than a few small chub.
I like to think I’ve learned a little over the years.
Great to read about my favourite river

[Liphook]

I think I have a glitch in the system as I too have only just seen this post despite having 'new posts' as my default opening page. This isn't the 1st time for such an occurrence - often I only see older threads appear once a new reply has been added! I perhaps need to borrow a teenager to sort out my tech?
Anyhow I enjoyed that report Catfish It's been far too long since I fished the wonderful Wye, not that I know it well unfortunately. That barbel certainly looks a strong specimen

[Grumpy]

This post has also just appeared.Gremlins at work?
A lovely write up and some great pics.The Wye Barbel really do pull your string.

[Troydog]

A lovely write up Catfish .017. The Belmont Golf club closed some five years ago, so we can now only fish the stretch on an HDAA ticket from the left hand bank.
Forty four years of memories. As I’ve mentioned before, I first set eyes on the river in May 1978. That was the day I decided to spend the rest of my life living and working in Hereford so that I could fish the river. My detailed fishing diaries tell some amazing tales of success and failure, and it is hugely pleasurable to sit and read back over some wonderful memories of people and places and sometimes of fish.
So June 16th 1978 approached. I was beside myself with excitement. I’d found somewhere to live and I’d found some work to be going on with. But the first thing I did was to join HDAA and start attending fortnightly committee meetings.I was convinced that all these twenty or so elder statesmen of the river would know where I could find a big perch.
After all, it was Bernard Venables who said that the Wye was a big perch river in Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing. And I had a letter from Dick Walker describing his favourite Wye perch swim.
So I had all my rods prepared; I had lobworms, red worms, maggots. I had dug lampreys, I had trapped a dozen minnows and I was ready at 3 am to start on the Belmont, just below the Pump House. I was just worried about getting a parking spot on the morning of June 16th.
But I needn’t have worried because when I arrived there were no other cars to be seen. I could not believe it. Had I got the wrong day? Had there been some sort of ban imposed? So never mind, I thought that everyone else would turn up a little later. But as the hours wore on and the sun rose and the rod remained motionless, I wondered what was happening. Was I dreaming about all this?
Well no, in those days the barbel had not arrived, and most locals didn’t really fish the river until the early Autumn flushes arrived. I was on my own, all day long. I had a small jack pike to show for my efforts, but not a single perch. I learned of course that the perch shoals moved into their Autumn and Winter quarters some time later, maybe by September. The perch were still in the river of course but they could be anywhere in June. An old member advised that I needed to travel light and roam, right up the left bank from the pump house to Belmont Golf Club. And he said you’ll catch some perch on the journey. Eventually I did….

[Catfish.017]

A lovely write up Catfish .017. The Belmont Golf club closed some five years ago, so we can now only fish the stretch on an HDAA ticket from the left hand bank.
Forty four years of memories. As I’ve mentioned before, I first set eyes on the river in May 1978. That was the day I decided to spend the rest of my life living and working in Hereford so that I could fish the river. My detailed fishing diaries tell some amazing tales of success and failure, and it is hugely pleasurable to sit and read back over some wonderful memories of people and places and sometimes of fish.
So June 16th 1978 approached. I was beside myself with excitement. I’d found somewhere to live and I’d found some work to be going on with. But the first thing I did was to join HDAA and start attending fortnightly committee meetings.I was convinced that all these twenty or so elder statesmen of the river would know where I could find a big perch.
After all, it was Bernard Venables who said that the Wye was a big perch river in Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing. And I had a letter from Dick Walker describing his favourite Wye perch swim.
So I had all my rods prepared; I had lobworms, red worms, maggots. I had dug lampreys, I had trapped a dozen minnows and I was ready at 3 am to start on the Belmont, just below the Pump House. I was just worried about getting a parking spot on the morning of June 16th.
But I needn’t have worried because when I arrived there were no other cars to be seen. I could not believe it. Had I got the wrong day? Had there been some sort of ban imposed? So never mind, I thought that everyone else would turn up a little later. But as the hours wore on and the sun rose and the rod remained motionless, I wondered what was happening. Was I dreaming about all this?
Well no, in those days the barbel had not arrived, and most locals didn’t really fish the river until the early Autumn flushes arrived. I was on my own, all day long. I had a small jack pike to show for my efforts, but not a single perch. I learned of course that the perch shoals moved into their Autumn and Winter quarters some time later, maybe by September. The perch were still in the river of course but they could be anywhere in June. An old member advised that I needed to travel light and roam, right up the left bank from the pump house to Belmont Golf Club. And he said you’ll catch some perch on the journey. Eventually I did….

Yes it was a different river then Tim. I can't remember when the Barbel first showed up but I do recall my Father in Law catching what, from his description must have been a Barbel in the late Seventies. He wasn't a Coarse Angler, didn't see the point as he put it, but he frequently took his caravan to a site at Symonds Yat and would fish a worm in hopes of a trout. He said "it was an ugly great thing, brown with huge whiskers" I wonder if he made one of the earliest captures of a Barbel that day?

[Fredline]

Great stuff, I enjoyed that. Thanks.

[Troydog]

You are right Catfish.017, it is difficult to know when the barbel arrived in the Wye. I remember stewarding a Wye Championships match on the Moccas section sometime in the early eighties. One angler had three barbel for 23lb and I think that was the first serious indication, although obviously they must have been in the river before then.
I had my PB of 11:13 in 1987, a little way downstream at Mornington….

[Tengisgol]

I’ve highlighted this before but May Lang mentions going into Ross in the mid-fifties (best guess is 1954), on a trip to Redmire, and fishing the river for a change. They caught, “chub and roach, and Gerry (Berth-Jones) caught a very nice barbel”.

Page 69 of Redmire, compiled by Tony Meers.

[Catfish.017]

I’ve highlighted this before but May Lang mentions going into Ross in the mid-fifties (best guess is 1954), on a trip to Redmire, and fishing the river for a change. They caught, “chub and roach, and Gerry (Berth-Jones) caught a very nice barbel”.

Page 69 of Redmire, compiled by Tony Meers.

Hmmm? That puts a different complexion on the matter. Thanks for that Tenisgol, that's the first time I've heard of that.