We caught up with Rebecca Ecuyer to see how her pursuit of the perfect barbel year played out in the final month of the coarse season. If the rest of the season was about building momentum, March is where you find out how much of it you’ve actually got left.
Anyone who fishes northern rivers will know the score. Conditions finally start to line up—extra water, a bit of colour, fish having one last proper feed—and suddenly every peg with a track to it is taken. Those last couple of weeks before the close bring everyone out, all chasing that final fish to round things off.
It’s part of it. Always has been.
The first of March summed it up well enough. Limited choice meant dropping into a less familiar bit of river—one of those stretches you’ve walked past more than you’ve fished. In truth, probably not the time to be learning it from scratch. Two crack-offs on snags put an early end to things, but not before the job was done—two March barbel on the bank.
That was the target. Ticked off.
Restless Fish and Unexpected Rewards
What followed didn’t quite settle into any sort of rhythm.
The chub were there in numbers but never really switched on properly. Moving through, showing themselves, but not holding in the way you’d want. Still, they ended up providing one of those moments you’ll remember long after the details of the barbel captures fade.
The take itself was nothing unusual—just a solid weight. But instead of that steady pull developing into a run, it just stayed… heavy. Reluctant. Almost lifeless at times, save for the odd shift in direction.
For a moment it felt like dragging in a branch.
Until it wasn’t.
As the fish came closer, the situation became clear—a hooked chub, with a pike clamped onto its tail and refusing to let go. You expect it to drop off at the net, they nearly always do, but this one had other ideas.
Somehow, both ended up in the mesh.
Even then it didn’t quite register what had happened until things livened up. With the net secured and unhooking gear being sorted, the pike decided it had had enough—tail-walking in the folds of mesh and turning the whole thing into chaos.
That’s when it hit home.
A proper fish. 25lb 2oz on the scales.
A PB—though one that’ll always come with a story attached, and probably a raised eyebrow or two when it’s told.
Fishing Beyond the Plan
With the barbel objective already achieved, the rest of the month opened up a bit.
Rather than sitting it out in the same known areas, it made sense to have a look around—fish a few new stretches, see a bit more of what the river had to offer. March is as good a time as any for that, especially when you’re not chasing anything specific.
A bit of trotting on the Ribble, keeping things simple, produced a first grayling on the river. Nothing complicated—just a bait presented properly and let to run.
It doesn’t always need dressing up more than that.
Of course, for every session that comes together, there’s another that doesn’t. One trip in particular never really got going—hours of effort for little in return, bar a solitary trout.
The sort of day where you can feel it slipping away.
Knowing When to Move
That’s often the difference, though—recognising when it’s not happening and doing something about it.
Rather than seeing it through for the sake of it, the call was made to move. Back onto a familiar stretch of the Calder for the last hour. No overthinking—just somewhere with a bit of history behind it.
Three trots in, the float buried.
The fish powered off immediately, stripping line from the pin and heading straight into the heaviest part of the flow. For a while it just held there, deep and steady, before kiting upstream and testing things properly.
Eventually it began to tire, easing out of the main push and into steadier water. That’s when the dorsal gave it away.
A Grayling, and a good one at that.
1lb 11oz. A new PB, right at the end, and all from having the sense to abandon a plan that wasn’t working.
Closing the Season
That’s March, really. Bit crowded, bit unpredictable, but still capable of delivering something special if you stay adaptable.
The original aim—March barbel—was achieved early. Beyond that, it became about making the most of what the river offered. A bonus PB pike, a first grayling from the Ribble, and then that last-gasp barbel to finish.
Not a bad way to draw a line under it.
As for the close season, it’ll start the same way it always should—with a bit of time away. Let the rivers rest, step back from it. Then it’s a change of focus. The lake gear will be dusted off, with tench on the agenda until June comes back around.
Different pace, different mindset.
But it doesn’t take long before the pull of the river creeps back in.
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