Melancholic musings

Sorry if this sound a bit gloomy, its just how I feel today and I guess that a blog should be an honest representation of one's moods. I am predisposed to melancholy and that may well be the driving force here but, I don't know what's the matter with me at the moment. I have very little enthusiasm to fish and I'm not very excited by barbel. Trouble is, its not just this season. I felt pretty much this way last summer.

Its not just me either. Last year loads of previously fanatical barbel nuts were telling me that their interest was waning. Just recently Tony Rocca and Conrad Farlow have mentioned a similar phenomenon on their blogs - what is going on?

I have suspected that the barbel boom has come and gone for a while now, quite why, I am not sure but I have a few theories. Maybe I'll leave those for another day. For now, I am trying to summon up enough effort to sort my gear and go down to the river. I should be running down as the river has risen and is coloured which will surely give me a chance of a fish or two.

But instead, I am sitting here with yet another cup of coffee mucking about on my laptop.

Looking back over the season so far I don't think that I have put very much effort into it. Time was I'd have been searching out new swims and working hard to find where the shoals are holding up. But I know the section so well now I know most of the answers already. I know, for example, that if the fish are not feeding in the low conditions then staying late will get me some results. But have I bothered to prove it? No, because I don't need to.

I know that if I want to catch loads of barbel I can do so just by driving downstream to Hereford or Ross. There the shoals are bigger and the fish much, much easier to catch. But again, what does it prove if I go and bag ten or fifteen fish in a session? I can fish harder for two fish in a day here than it would take to land a shed load there so why bother? I could take up one of the kind offers from my angling buddies and go to somewhere like the Trent but it just seems like a lot of effort for a few barbel.

I think I'm just barbelled out at the moment. I wasn't even intending to fish for them until the autumn but with having The Boy home, I've been drawn to the river on his wave of enthusiasm. Trouble is, when I am fishing, I get bored quickly and just mooch about trying for a bite or two. Its not helped that I am again unable to float fish. I had plans to spend much of the summer months up to my nuts in the cool waters of the Wye, trotting a float for everything from dace up to barbel but my bloody tendonitis has returned with a vengeance and I can only manage about thirty minutes before I have to stop. Neil doesn't mind though, he's discovered the joy of my trotting gear and has had a few productive sessions taking numerous chub to four and a half pounds.

I could fish the carp pool but it transpired that the perch I found wasn't the only recent casualty. Several other perch, albeit smaller ones, have died which means that the pool has been suffering due to the heat and low conditions. I cannot find it in me to chase fish that are suffering so have stayed away.

Hey ho. Perhaps it just takes a lucky catch or to spot something special to retrieve my mojo. I hope so and I hope it comes soon. Maybe I just need a couple of bream trips to sort me out.