I have recently received a plea from a young reader, Neil, for advice on basic swim preparation for summer barbel fishing, particularly for targeting the larger specimens. He was, he said, frustrated at his continual failure and becoming increasingly confused at all the conflicting advice, on baits in particular.

He stated in his letter that he had tried all manner of boilies, pellets and pastes without having a great deal of confidence in any of them. He therefore felt that he needed to take a backward step and get the basics right with traditional methods first. This letter struck a chord with me, because many writers on barbel these days, me included, tend to concentrate on the more modern designer bait approach. Not only can this be confusing and daunting to a novice barbel angler, but can also be prohibitively expensive to someone on a severely limited budget.

I know that, in Neil’s case, he had tried a short campaign with a milk protein base mix, which he had been forced to curtail prematurely because of the cost. At something in the order of £10 per kilo, you really have to be supremely confident and experienced in the application of such specialised bait. Not only to attain the results you are looking for with regard to barbel in the landing net, but also to justify the expense. When you have been at this big fish game as long as I have, it is easy to forget the more basic approaches and so I thought I would address Neil’s request with a look back to the lessons learned from my more traditional Cherwell fishing of the late eighties. At a time before the boilie obsession took off. 

Most important
I have always maintained that, once the barbell have been located, it is the preparatory work that is most important for consistent success from smaller rivers and streams. This is especially true if a group of fish contains just one or two big individuals, and one of those is the target. The normal approach of starting to fish for the barbel shortly after they are located almost invariably leads to the bait being taken first by small to average fish. The larger fish present are naturally more cautious and are the last to be encouraged into uninhibited feeding. Because of this, the catching of a smaller barbel often wrecks the chance of making the acquaintance of its big sister – better still its grandmother. An already nervous specimen will not have its fears allayed by seeing a smaller companion being dragged over a landing net.

It took Trefor and I several seasons of hard work and many hours of observation to establish the existence of a barbel feeding pattern that allowed us to fish selectively for the biggest barbel in a group. This pattern varies little from river to river and we established a pre-baiting procedure that took advantage of our observations of barbel feeding behaviour, so as to maximise the chances of the biggest fish present being the first to take the hookbait. Let me illustrate the various points by describing a big fish taken from the Cherwell, fifteen years ago.

After four seasons of fishing one stretch of the Cherwell with great success, I felt that it was time to move on. There were two reasons for this. Firstly, I believe that I had captured all the big barbel that inhabited the stretch and further fishing would merely result in recaptures. Secondly, news of captures taken by both myself and Simon Lush had slowly leaked out over the previous season. As a result the stretch was coming under such increased pressure that I felt restricted.

The stretch I moved on to I had actually discounted in the past because my observations had only ever resulted in the sighting of average barbel. Trefor and I had fished it for a week in the early eighties for a solitary barbel of about four pounds to Trefor before moving on to the. As I was contemplating giving it another go, a match angling friend at work mentioned a club match held on the same stretch where he had been smashed by something powerful. Perhaps it was an omen!

However, since that early unsuccessful sortie on the river, I had learned a lot about Cherwell barbel and now knew that where the species was present, there almost certainly existed the odd big one. It was just a matter of finding it and then using the newly established baiting technique to allow me to put a hook in it. The first problem was in establishing the possible whereabouts of a big specimen, and in this I had one big disadvantage over the previous stretch. Several areas were too deep for actually observing the fish and so I would have to use my experience to select the most likely areas.

This was the first problem in which my countless hours of watching feeding barbel proved so invaluable. Trefor and I had noticed that, although a group of barbel often foraged over quite a wide area of riverbed, they invariably radiated from some central point or holding spot. This would usually take the form of cover of some description, whether it be an overhanging tree or line of bushes, dense weed bed or simply a deeper stretch of water between two areas of shallows. The biggest fish present were often found in closest proximity to this holding spot, and by creating hot feeding areas nearby, by pre-baiting, we increased our chances of taking the bigger fish. The first essential then was to locate potential holding spots.

After several hours of walking the banks on my first visit, I had short listed four areas as having the greatest potential, and one of them was my banker. This swim was a twenty-yard stretch of deeper, slower water between two much shallower areas. It was fringed with a thick rush bed and a small, scruffy bush hung over the river at the downstream extremity. As I had seen small barbel feeding on the gravel in both the shallows upstream and downstream, I was as confident as I could be that, if the stretch contained a big barbel, that is where it would be.

A little probing around with a 2oz lead revealed the deepest point almost exactly midway along the rush bed, tight under the near bank, a perfect set up for a holding spot. It was five-feet deep at that point, but I would not be baiting there. Trefor and I had found to our cost on the Wensum that baiting holding spots was counter-productive, as spooked barbel had nowhere to retire to and ended up dispersing all over the river. We had found it much better to create new feeding areas a little away from the holding spot. Any spooked fish would then naturally swim to where they still felt totally secure. With that in mind, I decided that my catching area would be just out from the bush at the tail of the swim, about ten yards down from where I assessed the holding spot most likely to be. The lead revealed four and a half feet of water, but shallowing steadily to only three feet ten yards further downstream – barbell love feeding up such slopes.

Accuracy
Since I wanted my hookbait to be positioned exactly where the loose feed was introduced, the next consideration was baiting accuracy. The simplest way to ensure this is to fish exactly one rod length from the bank. However, there were streamer weed tresses at that point and so I screwed my small scythe blade to the extending landing net handle and carefully cut away a few tresses at the correct spot, to open up a gap in the streamer no more than a few inches wide. I was careful not to undertake excessive weed removal, as this may have dissuaded the barbel from entering my new swim to feed. It was now time to introduce the first amount of loose feed.

At this point, so that what I am going to describe next will have more relevance, I should describe the various phases of barbel feeding behaviour that Trefor and I had observed over the years. The main ingredient of pre-baiting feed for barbel is hempseed, which barbel eat in enormous quantities, and of which they never seem to tire. As an attractant for barbel, hemp has no equal. To the hempseed are added samples of whatever hookbait is intended. Provided that there are barbel in the vicinity, and that they are not being scared by activity on the bank, rarely more than fifteen minutes elapse before they move on to the hemp when it has first been introduced into a swim. It is the sequence of events that follows this first interest that is so important.

Invariably, that first visit, by barbel of all sizes, is of short duration. All the fish are suspicious, and if any bait is taken on that reconnaissance it is invariably the smaller, less cautious, fish that are involved. After a few minutes, the fish leave the swim. They could be gone for a few minutes or for half an hour. One thing that is certain is that, provided there is no bankside disturbance, the fish will be back. This time, with nothing untoward having happened, their stay is slightly longer, with one or two of the fish perhaps feeding quite avidly for a few minutes. However, it is very noticeable that the very biggest fish hang around on the fringe of the pack. If they do take any food, it is usually of only a few seconds duration, before they retreat to the outer extremity of the baited area again. This situation will have developed perhaps an hour or so after first pre-baiting and it is easy to see why the odds are still stacked against the big fish taking a hookbait.

As time passes, subtle changes occur in the barbel’s behaviour. Firstly, each visit becomes more extensive than the last, with each individual fish feeding for longer. Secondly, as they become more confident, the bigger fish are right in there with the rest of the herd, feeding just as avidly. At this stage, the odds against catching the biggest fish reflect the numbers of fish involved. Therefore, if there are ten fish present, it is still nine to one against the biggest taking the hookbait first. Those odds are still not particularly attractive.

With the increasing feeding frenzy, it is important that the food supplies do not become exhausted, or the barbel will drift away. For this reason, after about two hours, the swim is baited again, perhaps with another three or four droppers of hemp plus hook bait samples. This topping up is carried out on one of the lulls when the barbel have temporarily vacated the swim

First to feed
The next stage, which could take another hour or another three hours, is the one for which we are waiting. When we see that the biggest barbel is the first to return to a baited swim, and is the first to recommence feeding, we know that the odds are starting to swing in our favour. The big fish is now totally confident. At this point, another trait of the fish comes to the fore. With its natural caution now allayed, it asserts its dominance in the pecking order, actually barging lesser individuals out of the way in order to get to the grub. This is when, barring mistakes on my part, I know the fish is as good as mine, because further observation will confirm that the biggest fish present, from now on, will always be first to the feed. An accurately presented hookbait at this time is odds on to be taken by the largest barbel present.

Let me now return to that first session on my new stretch of the Cherwell. Following my success on the first length with maggots, I had decided that I would start my new campaign in the same way. Accordingly, in late morning on a sunny September day, I lowered ten bait droppers of hemp and four of maggots into each of the four fishing areas I had prepared. As there was extra colour in the water that day as well as the extra depth, it would be impossible to observe barbel reaction to the feed. I would therefore have to rely on my previous experience and try to build up a mental picture of the possible changes in behaviour that were occurring under the water.

As each hour passed, I had already decided that I would not fish any of the swims until about an hour before dark. By which time I confidently expected that the first barbel bite I had in each swim – if of course I had any bites – would be from the biggest fish present in each area. The banker swim would be the last I came to which I came, and would not be fished until it was fully dark. Barbel that have gradually been weaned into confident feeding all day without threat, commence really frenzied feeding at night, which can last the entire dark hours.

For the rest of the day, each swim was religiously re-baited every two hours. Each topping up being with four droppers of hemp and two of maggots. In between baiting sessions, I did manage some far from serious summer chubbing. About two hours before dark it was back to the van for a meal, and then it was time for the last baiting before barbel fishing began in earnest.

Just as the light was beginning to fade, I crept into position in the first swim. The terminal tackle consisted of 8lb Maxima tied to a hook link of twelve-inches of 8lb Silkworm armed with a size 6 Au Lion D’Or hook. On to this hook were crammed about fifteen large maggots, and then the whole writhing mass – fished in conjunction with a 2oz swimfeeder – was carefully lowered at arms length to rest on the gravel in exactly the same spot as the loose feed had been deposited over the previous hours. 

Seconds after the bait had come to rest on the gravel, there was a momentary quickening of the pulse when the rod top lunged downwards in a very determined fashion. However, the excitement was very short-lived, and a highly spirited three-pound chub was soon being returned well away from any of my prepared areas. That proved to be the only action I was destined to get from that area. The second and third swims proved to be totally barren. By the time I was slowly making the long trek down to my banker swim, I was regretting having to fish so blind. It was quite possible there had been no barbel within a hundred yards of my hookbaits all evening.

Different
The banker swim though was different. I had actually seen barbel feeding both above and below it in the morning on the shallows, albeit very small fish, and as I quietly eased myself into position, an overpowering feeling came over me. The steady breeze had suddenly died and in the deathly stillness a heavy air of expectancy descended on me. At once, I knew that something special was about to happen. I will never forget the bitter disappointment I felt when, only seconds after the introduction of the first hook bait to the swim, the rod top rattled to the attentions of a small perch. As I swung the little nuisance over the rushes I cursed it for the disturbance it had created. I need not have worried. About five minutes later, there was that sensation over my index finger that I love so much, the sudden increase in tension followed by the strong, irresistible draw on the line. As if by magic, the rod top betalight plunged towards the surface of the river and I was soon locked in unforgettable battle with a worthy opponent.

For many minutes, that barbel hugged the bottom and I realised at that moment that, far from catching a larger than average barbel on my first trip to a new stretch, I had actually hooked an exceptional specimen indeed. I just prayed that the hook held. I remember catching my breath when I caught my first sight of the fish in the bright moonlight as it turned on the surface. Even in the dark, I could see the enormous depth of the fish and knew that I was possibly playing a second Cherwell twelve-pounder. I suppose the fight lasted about six or seven minutes, with the fish never taking much line but doggedly refusing to come to net. Gradually, however, it yielded, a foot at a time, until, in a moment of pure euphoria, I was able to swing it triumphantly over the rushes. That barbel, of 11lb 7oz, was a result far beyond my wildest dreams for an exploratory trip to a new stretch. The rest of that night was spent in commuting backwards and forwards between all the baited swims, but not another bite did I have, other than from chub. 

Since that capture, I have discovered that my eleven-pounder may be the only double on that particular stretch. I never caught another and several competent barbel anglers also failed. The only other capture of a double-figure barbel of which I know, three years later, was the same fish I had caught, but six ounces heavier. So, what conclusions can be drawn from that early success? Was that tremendous specimen simply an incredibly lucky capture or the result of applying a tried and trusted technique that had been seen to work so many times in the past? I favour the latter view, and in a few glorious minutes on that September night I believe I was rewarded for all the hours of inactivity, all the miles of walking, and all the patient hours of observation. The surge of self satisfaction I felt that night is one of the reasons why I will never tire of the hunt for big fish. 

This article was originally published in Coarse Angling Today