For many anglers with a river fishing obsession, that period ending 14th March to the 16th June leaves us longing for a cast into the unpredictable and exciting ebbs and flows of running water. Traditionally, I always make a big fuss of the 16th, with trips booked well in advance with family and friends, making that date even more special and anticipated. This year, in 2025, it was no different, and a week on the mighty River Severn at the wonderful Bank Cottage was the chosen destination to kick off the new season. This angling mecca (comprising beautiful accomodation just yards from a private stretch of river) had historically produced some memorable fish for me and my dad, including bream close to 8lb, double-figure barbel, roach over 2lb, and the rarest catch on my life... a twaite shad!

As we arrived on the eve of the 15th June, the river was running clear and low (just as it had been for the two months previous). However, by early evening the heavy rain quite a way upstream a few days before was now taking effect, with rapidly rising (but still very clear) levels. This random spate, combined with the warmest week of the year forecast (plus clear skies, immensely high pressure, and the least desirable moon phase), meant that the fishing would be super hard. I expected the worst.

Regardless of conditions, it’s still an exciting prospect to cast into a river that has not been fished for three whole months, and as the clock struck 12, my feeder was mid-air and heading towards a central spot slightly downstream.

Five hours passed, and as a stunning tangerine sunrise emerged, fresh on the horizon, I decided that it was probably time for a change of tactics. I brought my barbel rod in and replaced it with a much lighter setup, more suited for any size and species of fish willing to take a bait. I cast my rod and sat for 45 minutes without a single nibble – it was clear that conditions were against me so it was no surprise that it was so quiet.

As I sat patiently, something was moving down at the bottom of the jetty just to my left. Curiosity got the better of me and I decided to go and have a closer look to see what was going on. As I peered into the water, not finding a great deal, a large knocking noise sounded behind me. To my surprise (and horror) my rod was balancing horizontally on the rod rest and heading speedily in the direction of an increasingly bulging and unforgiving river! I stormed my way back up the jetty and lunged… my hand marginally clutching the rod, literally inches away from the point of no return!

Panic over – it was now time to focus on landing whatever was on the end of the line. The fish stayed deep and tracked upstream. I could feel the (fairly light) mainline plinking off the boulders that lined the inner bank – It was equally exhilarating and excruciating! Several minutes later, the fish was up on the surface, and my dad netted the beast first time round. A double figure barbel on my light rod was possibly the best start to a season I had ever had, and likely in the worst conditions I have ever fished!

I almost learned the hard way that you should never leave your rod unattended – something I knew already but just ignored on this occastion. Just becasue a bite may feel unlikely, it doesn't make it impossible!

After a week packed full of big bream and several more barbel, I contemplated those 'awful' conditions that were all wrong for producing such amazing fishing. It made me think about some wisdom an experienced angler once shared with me...

‘Where is this rule book that every fish has supposedly read??? If you have a baited hook in the water, you have a chance…’