02/03/2022 - Wet, but happier days

Black dog day today. Couldn't concentrate on work - my mood not helped by the grey, miserable conditions outside and knowing there's more rain to come later in the week.

Just feels like every weather front that pushes in across the Atlantic is another nail in the coffin of my river season. Eventually had enough by lunchtime, so put the boots and waterproofs on and went for a stomp across the fields to clear the head. The usually dry drains and ditches were running hard with muddy, brown water, all destined to end up in the Trent a mile down the hill. At least the crows were happy picking dead lobworms off the surface of the water-logged soil. However, it got me thinking that there was a time when I actually relished a bit of rain (cue flashback)!

It was a typical evening in June….

Got home from work and switched on the television to see rain bouncing off the covers of Centre Court, signalling the end of play at Wimbledon. Shortly afterwards it was announced that proceedings had been called to a halt at a storm-lashed Edgbaston between England and Australia. What a perfect night then to grab a few hours on theTrent! An hour later I was busy with the bait dropper in a swim that had yielded barbel to just over 11 lb to me in the past. However, as I finished I could hear the ominous rumblings of thunder approaching from the southwest. The rods were quickly made up and two cage feeders full of a scalded pellet mix were swung out over the baited area. As I ducked under the brolly it suddenly became very gloomy and it wasn’t long before the first drops of rain started to pepper the surface of the river in front of me. By now the overhead power cables in the field behind me were humming like a swarm of angry wasps. Within minutes the rain had turned into a deluge and I was literally plunged into darkness. Visible flashes now accompanied the rumblings of thunder as the storm crept closer and closer.

I was soon treated to one of the best light shows I have ever seen. The trees on the far bank were lit up time after time by bolts of lightning of such intensity that they left after-images in the sky like tracers!  By now the storm was all around me and the flashes of lightning and cracks of thunder were virtually simultaneous. It was right in the middle of this that the tip of the downstream rod flew ‘round. Keeping the rod tip low (hopefully to avoid electrocution!) I quickly steered what felt to be a reasonable fish into the waiting net. 

Back under the brolly I was pleasantly surprised to see a stocky, well-fed chub and even more surprised when I weighed it at 5lb 2oz. A quick photograph and it was returned, just in time for the upstream rod to rattle off. Another chub estimated at around 4lb was quickly landed and returned. The rods were both then rebaited and the feeders swung out into the river once more. Again it was only minutes before the two 10 mm shrimp boilies on the upstream rod proved irresistable, resulting in another chub around the 4lb mark.

I was now pretty wet from my trips out into the rain. However, I didn’t have long to dry off and recover before the downstream rod was bouncing in the rest and soon yet another chub graced the landing net. Although this one was a bit hollow in the belly, it looked slightly longer than the first. I was therefore pleased to confirm a  weight of 5lb 6oz. Another quick photo and it was released to join its brothers. I didn’t have long to take in the fact that I’d just had my first brace of “5’s” from the Trent before the upstream rod bent round signalling an unmistakable barbel bite. 

Sure enough, the culprit turned out to be a pristine 7 lber. By the time I had sorted this fish out I was well and truly soaked. A small stream had started running down the bank behind me and I was having difficulty clambering back up in the mud. With no sign of the storm abating, I therefore decided to “abandon play” myself. The gear was unceremoniously packed up and I sprinted the 50 yards or so back to the car. A little over two hours after starting fishing, I was safe back at home, but not without a necessary detour.  At one point I was turned back by the crew of a fire engine as flash flooding had blocked the road. I also later learned from the news that Nottingham railway station had suffered a lightning strike that had knocked out the signalling system, resulting in commuting chaos the following day. Electric fishing indeed!