New Years Honour Presentation and Royal Garden Party.

In the last blog post here, I announced that I had been included in the NEW YEARS HONOURS LIST 2025 and had accepted an invitation to receive a BEM (British Empire Medal) as co-founder of The Avon Roach Project, and services to angling.

I rounded up with the threat that I would be posting a shed-load of pictures of the subsequent associated events including the Royal Garden Party at Buckingham Palace. However, being a very personal story and not broadly about the Avon Roach Project it has made me uneasy with this gratuitous trumpet blowing, hence the delay in posting this. That said, the antidote to this has been the fact that this is as much about Budgie and the recognition of the achievements of the Avon Roach Project as me, which has straightened the path slightly and helped unblock an uncharacteristic modest reticence. And, besides, this doesn’t happen to many and is a once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment, and knowing Budg’ would have received it as well, I hope you’ll agree it adds a little validation to a bit of self-indulgent chest-beating.

Sadly, New Years Honours are not given posthumously, so I accepted mine on behalf of both Budgie and myself and as the initial enquiry was made as to whether Budgie and I were both available to receive it, as far as I’m concerned, he was with me all the way – hence my references throughout this post to ‘us.’

So, the following is an account of the most amazing honour that ordinary boys on our level rarely get to experience – and to see how many times I can crowbar ‘New Years Honour’ into a thousand words. And, whether you agree with all this kind of stuff or not - and we are all guilty of dismissive and contemptuous utterings, myself included - when your name is listed on the official published New Years Honours List, it is different, particularly as it could be argued that we have been honoured for a real achievement judged on real merit - in our case environmental stewardship and pioneering enterprise rarely recognised on such a level.

It went without question that Budgie’s wife, Rose, be asked to attend the presentation ceremony and Royal Garden Party with me which, of course, she would have done anyway with Budgie had he stayed with us. Thankfully, she was as keen as I.

The presentation of the medal took place on a cool March 17^th at a grand building in Winchester where I was accompanied by Rose and my brother, Kev.

My initial thought was to slip into one of my nice, smart, posh and expensive (in its day) suits I wore in my days in business, which ended up being quite an awakening as to just how long it is since I made such an effort. It was like squeezing a donkey into a pillowcase. The turnups and flairs also dated it slightly – just kidding. So, I treated myself to a lovely posh new suit, shirt, tie and shoes. It was, after all, a pretty special reason to splash out.

Six of us from Hampshire received the honour in a ceremony where the pomp and split-second organisation was amazing, and so very English. As the medal was placed, a short citation was read out to the room by a couple of very nervous, but keen, military cadets, after which each recipient was engaged in a short exchange of words where we all thanked the folks that had helped in our respective projects or undertakings and on whose behalf we were accepting the honour.

I, of course, filled my minutes with tearful choked praise and thanks to Budgie. And although he wasn’t there, it really did feel like I’d accepted the honour for both of us, for which I felt hugely privileged and deeply moved. From the first to the last moment, we were made to feel very special.

After the official and press photos and the post ceremony coffee and mingling; to celebrate, we had lunch in one of Budgie’s favourite pubs afterwards where I had Budgie’s favourite sticky toffee pudding, which he always used to joke, being type two insulin dependent diabetic, was his version of an extreme sport.

Attendance at a Royal Garden Party at Buckingham Palace on May 7th was the next event connected to the honour, where every second of the day went like clockwork from getting my windsor knot tied correctly (nearly) first time to meeting up with my brother Kev and his other half, Sally, and my sister Marilyn and her daughter, Kelly, for lunch in St James’s Park – even nearly getting run over by Princess Ann on the way out of the Palace.

Although a day of bittersweet emotions, we knew Budgie wouldn’t have tolerated us using his absence as a reason not to get the most from the experience. So, we did but with him in our minds and hearts all day as we shared stories and smiled at the moments we knew he’d have been so non-pc and outrageously inappropriate, like asking the Palace catering staff for brown sauce or a can of Red Bull…

It was quite an experience being inside the huge black gates, by Royal invitation, where the camera shutters went into meltdown. Unfortunately, there was a ‘no medal’ request on the invitation, probably to avoid the inevitable bottleneck of photo opportunities against the Palace entrance, but also perhaps so none of us knew who was an OBE, BEM, CBE, MBE or Sir. For this day, we were all the same. There were, however, many medals in pockets, including mine, for a sneaky snap here and there.

We were directed through an entrance to the side of the Palace, passed armed guards, and into the immaculately kept garden at the rear of the vast building, and on to the catering marquee where, once again, the efficiency of the staff and coordination was faultless. And, I know we all joke about crustless cucumber sandwiches and peeled grapes but, honestly, the grub was on another level. Even the delicate little cakes looked like they’d been cut with a laser.  

There were two brass bands, one in each corner of the garden, which played alternate short sessions, and although not a fan of this kind of music with my experiences being only of the Salvation Army bands at Christmas (no disrespect to them) but the musicianship of these was simply extraordinary. I have never heard anything quite like it.

At just before three, the Yeomen of the Guard marched and stood to attention on the top of the steps at the rear entrance to the Palace from where the Royal Family would appear, which had the hair standing on the back of our necks, as they remained stock-still before marching down to line the avenue of guests where the Royal Family would walk. Then on the dot of three the bands played the national anthem as the royal family appeared and stood at the top of the steps before walking down to us in the garden.

From the first to the last moment I was bursting with pride (which hasn’t lessened even now). This stuff doesn’t happen to ordinary folks like us, so to be standing in the presence of King Charles, Queen Camilla, Princess Anne, Edward and Sophie at Buckingham Palace was a pinch myself moment and all because of the recognition of a project nobody could have imagined would be acclaimed on this level. 

Early May had us fearful of unsettled or perhaps damp or cool conditions, but the weather was perfect; not too hot and with lovely sunny spells all afternoon leaving no desire to shed my posh suit jacket or even loosen my tie. I was determined to stay as chiselled as James Bond until the last minute…

Even the exit and coordination of the taxis to the station and the journey home went like clockwork, apart from me stepping in front of Princess Anne’s car and making her wait while I crossed the road as the Royal Family cavalcade departed. I wonder what she might have said… Maybe – ‘Here, that’s that Trevor blokey from the Avon Roach Project. Oooohhh, I like his posh suit. Very dashing. As chiselled as James Bond, I reckon’… Or maybe not. I must admit that I needed half a fridge of beer later that evening to help me sleep. I was buzzing…

To be one of very few chosen over time connected to angling and environmental stewardship makes the award of this New Years Honour extra special. And although The Avon Roach Project itself is multi-award-winning and arguably a part of angling history, this ultimate personal recognition is the icing on the most extraordinary cake and is also a part of that same history, being as this is more than an annual achievement award or certificate of merit, but the ultimate personal honour with a lifelong impact. What a journey, and what an honour for us ordinary boys.   

Although still bristling with pride and fulfilment, I still can’t quite get used to putting BEM after my name – thinking all I’ll get is ‘Oooohhh hark at him showing off with letters after his name. Who does he think he is?’ Well, I guess, the answer to that is I know Budgie would have changed his email address to include BEM after his name at a second after midnight on the 1^st January 2025, and messaged every one of his contacts at two seconds after midnight, and would have had no hesitation in singing it loud and proud from the rooftops, even if only to piss off the naysayers and nonbelievers, so why shouldn’t I? Afterall, nobody thought we were showing off when came up with the laughable crazy concept, or when we were out in the freezing cold and ice banging spawning boards together or covering my back garden with huge tanks and conservatory with bubbling bottles of brine shrimps, or when I was dragging Budgie’s wheelchair out of axle-deep mud in -5C temperatures. So, who did we think we were then? Same as we do now - Two no-hopers with dreams only we could make come true; which we did.

Finally, and I know I have said it before, but I would have given everything I own to have shared the New Years Honour experience with Budgie, who deserves it more than me. Just to see that medal pinned on him and see that face light up and the explosion of pride and fulfilment would have meant the world and more than words could describe.

So, in memory of the most extraordinary geezer and bestest best mate in the whole wide world, without whom none of this Avon Roach Project and New Years Honour stuff would have happened, I dedicate this to the true force of nature that is Budgie Price BEM…

Bursting with pride (and disbelief at this point). On my lapel is a very special little roach badge. The only other time I have worn it was at Budgie’s funeral. I now keep it displayed with the medal at home.

For anyone interested (copied from the interweb) – ‘The British Empire Medal (BEM; formerly British Empire Medal for Meritorious Service) is a British and Commonwealth award for meritorious civil or military service worthy of recognition by the Crown. The current honour was created in 1922 to replace the original medal, which had been established in 1917 as part of the Order of the British Empire. Recipients of the BEM are entitled to use the post-nominal letters ‘BEM’ after their names.’

The British Empire Medal is the only one to carry the recipients name, which is engraved on the edge or rim.

From left to right – Kelly, Me BEM, Rose, Marilyn, Sally and Kev. We all met up and had a long and relaxed lunch where we could get the most from every moment of the day and share the amazing experience. Budgie was also with us in our hearts and minds.

Me and my Bruv and Sis… We all live just about far enough from each other to justify fairly infrequent get-togethers, and the last time we were together was when we were clearing Mum’s house following her passing, so now this replaces that ‘last time’ with something much nicer.

It really was special, and a little surreal, being inside the gates and in touching distance of this very imposing, world famous, iconic building – and by Royal invitation, no less.

As the attendees spread out, after we’d scoffed all the wonderful cakes and crustless cucumber sarnies, we got some pictures of us against the Palace in the garden. After all, not many get this privileged once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

The pomp and ceremony, precision, and coordination, and very Englishness of it all was breathtaking, and very special to be a part of.

The atmosphere and sense of occasion was palpable as the hairs bristled on our necks as the call came to march down the steps and out onto the lawn.

As the National Anthem played, the King and Queen appeared from the Palace and stood before us. Quite a moment, I must admit. And I mean that from both a personal and general Avon Roach Project perspective, as I pondered the connection between the bonkers concept and ensuing madness, to the extraordinary success that has led to us being here.

They then joined us on the lawn where we just know Budgie would have derailed them an got their attention.

Followed shortly by the others; Princess Ann, Prince Edward, and Sophie.

Post sticky toffee pudding, we toasted Budgie, of course.

Wouldn’t this whole New Years Honour thing have made a fabulous final chapter to our Avon Roach Project book?

And here’s where it all started… the magic spawning boards funnelling the spawning activity into concentrated areas allowing some extraordinary detailed photography…and the study of territorial behaviour and spawning synchronicity never before recorded…

Pre-BEM, Budgie and me, sleeves up and debating the critical issues of the moment having just delivered thousands of roach into the Avon south of Salisbury.

We had some fun when first captioning this picture in an earlier blog with Budgie saying… ‘One thing. I ask you to do - one thing… Bring the f***in’ HobNobs, and you can’t even get that right…’

From the mud and mozzies and a bonkers idea to Buckingham Palace and a New Years Honour… Who could have imagined? Not us two, that’s for sure. 

2025 NEW YEARS HONOURS

It is with enormous pride that I can announce that I have been included in the NEW YEARS HONOURS LIST 2025 and have accepted an invitation to receive a BEM (British Empire Medal). As co-founder of The Avon Roach Project, and services to angling.

For anyone interested (copied from the interweb) – ‘The British Empire Medal (BEM; formerly British Empire Medal for Meritorious Service) is a British and Commonwealth award for meritorious civil or military service worthy of recognition by the Crown. The current honour was created in 1922 to replace the original medal, which had been established in 1917 as part of the Order of the British Empire. Recipients of the BEM are entitled to use the post-nominal letters ‘BEM’ after their names.’ 

I was notified, in the strictest confidence (and encouraged to exercise a practice of modest secrecy ahead of the announcement), back in November 2024, but now the list has been officially published where I’m listed under ‘Medallists of the Order of the British Empire’, I can shout my face off about it and have a little blow on my own trumpet.  

To be one of very few chosen over time connected to angling and environmental stewardship makes it extra special. And although The Avon Roach Project itself is multi-award-winning and arguably a part of angling history, this ultimate personal recognition is the icing on the most extraordinary cake.

Just imagine how hard my jaw hit the floor as I saw the first lines of the letter that read… ‘I am writing in the strictest confidence to inform you that you are to be recommended to His Majesty The King for the honour of British Empire Medal (BEM) in the New Years Honours List 2025.’

The initial enquiry was made as to whether Budgie and I were both available to receive the honour. However, sadly, New Years Honours are not given posthumously, so I shall be accepting it on behalf of both Budgie and myself.

Bittersweet, yes; but although Budgie’s absence will blunt the edge, it will not dull the shine of this once-in-a-lifetime accomplishment, knowing that he’d have received it as well. 

I will post pictures, if I can, of the presentation and, of course, the customary shot of me holding the medal outside Buckingham Palace after the Royal Garden Party I shall be attending, which is all part of the honour. So, I apologise in advance for the self-indulgence… I just wish I was sharing it all with Budg’… And, honestly, if I could have one wish granted… 

The smile on Budgie’s face, I know, would be the proudest, widest and brightest, and probably visible from space – as is the one on mine. 

Also, although a man of few words, and long passed, I can hear my ole Dad in my head saying - ‘Ordinarily I’d tell you - ‘don’t show off now, boy’… but in this case, fill your boots son: and I might even have a blow on that trumpet myself when you’re done’…

Some things have your life flashing before you; and this did just that, as every second of The Avon Roach Project thumped me in the face and filled my head at the same time - From the beginning and the overwhelming feelings of helplessness, the elbows on knees and wondering what, if anything, we could do; to the early concept of roach in a bath tub and on to the seemingly predestined, unimaginable level of success, as well as inspiring and advising similar activities on other rivers up and down the land; plus, of course, all the mud and mozzies in between – and now this, the ultimate personal recognition… What a journey, and what an honour for us ordinary boys. 

Well, over and out for now. I’d best sort my posh jeans out and take a damp cloth to some of that mud on my Reeboks for my trip to Buckingham Palace… 

Happy New Year and thank you all for the ongoing wonderful support.

Trevor Harrop BEM

Who could have imagined?... Not us two, that's for sure.
However, now looking back, we did OK for a pair of ordinary boys with a bit of drive and inventiveness: and an overdose of determination.
Now, Buckingham Palace here we come...

2024 News

 Despite the easing of daily and weekly activities influencing the infrequency of these blogs now, looking back over the past year, there is no shortage of stuff to report. 

Although less intense, the annual schedule still sucks up plenty of time and effort with the placement of roach spawning boards to supply substrate in areas that need it, plus the regular collecting and relocating of spawn to suit the river and streams; the annual desiltation of barbel spawning gravels plus, of course, the less publicised ongoing campaign to have the UK cormorant licensing policy changed, which you’ll remember Budgie and I kicked off some years ago.

And, what a year it’s been… starting with the worst winter floods in living memory prompting some folks to say ‘Well, I don’t think I’ve ever seen it this bad, at least not for a while…’ 

With this came a significant reduction in angler footfall on the river banks, with many stretches being closed or inaccessible, so predator management in the form of armed tours of duty had added importance… More on predation later.

Early 2024 saw two milestone moments, one even outstripping the worst winter flood in living memory… 

First, on a cold February morning, the last two Avon Roach Project tanks were collected from ‘Project HQ’ formerly, and now again, known as my back garden, by the EA guys, Phil and Lewis, and given to Sparsholt College, where they’ll contribute to the positive education of the next generation of fishy crackpots, where I’m told there have even been lectures based upon our doings. Image that: us on a college curriculum…   

We loaded the trailer then celebrated with tea and a ‘doorstep’ of the sweetest lemon grizzle cake known to mankind: estimated at about 3746593 calories a slice… negated by the lemon making it one of our five a day, we reckon.

It was a morning of mixed emotions again. Firstly, obviously, because Budgie was absent, who I know would have offered all kinds of daft help like getting one corner of the tank for loading or backing the truck down the drive, but also that these two are the last to go. I saluted them as they were loaded and whispered a fond farewell message I could hear Budgie saying through a mile-wide smile in my head – ‘Now f*** off and don’t come back.’

Almost twenty years, would you believe?

Joyous and sad and even relieved, dare I say. It is impossible to calculate or even comprehend the number of precious roach that spent the first year of their lives in these tanks. Wonderful memories of an experience and achievement that will never fade. 

Another milestone moment was that the day before, I received my first state pension payment – So, officially an OAP… Yes, I know… I can hear jaws hitting floors and eyebrows being raised out loud to gasps of… ‘but he only looks about 27…’

Where once there was a fish farm/hatchery now lay a blank area baring the bruises and scars of a decade and a half of vital service to Avon Roach (I know the feeling); so I levelled and grass seeded the ground (so I can resume bitching about having to mow it every few weeks) and dug a wildlife pond for the froggies, toads and newts that have always been present (we even once found an adult froggie in a tank, which must have climbed up the ivy which had grown all over one side of it). I’ve also set aside (returned) a corner to compost heap, just beyond the pond, for the slow worms which have always done well. 

I have retained the four patches from where the tanks in the middle of the garden once stood for wild flowers in memory of Budgie, and once again used the seed mix he used in his own garden, which took a while to get going this year due to the cool and soggy late spring; but once they did, the garden buzzed with the sound of hundreds of bees and other insects as each evening I’d sit and watch the sun set, and raise a glass to the bestest best mate in the whole wide world, without whom none of the amazing Avon Roach Project madness would have happened.

When spring did finally arrive, fortunately, the river had dropped just enough to set about our usual annual spawning board placement, and this April returned mixed fortunes and some surprises…

We placed spawning boards on the Stour as well as the Avon, partly to assess population density (particularly on the Stour at the request of a progressive local fishing club), partly to supply additional spawning substrate and partly to relocate spawn (Avon only) as part of our ongoing population management and genetic and bloodline strengthening. And, while spawning board placement can be a bit of a lottery, even with our 399 years of experience, we were unsuccessful on the Stour, which could simply be down to spawning board location, which was influenced by possible interference by canoeists and paddleboarders (one of which was lifted and left high and dry – not sure what might have inspired the decision not to just drop it back where they found it), so we’ll try again this coming spring in different locations. However, on the Avon we experienced some rather more predicted success, plus a few surprises thrown in with two new spawning sites within the same stretch of river. Both were surprising, but for very different reasons.

The first, was a short distance below an established spawning location, but far enough away not to be a part of the same spawning group. It was simply a protrusion of a couple of structures covered in fontinalis in a flush of water fifty yards or so below a weir where the main population were going at it.

The other was in the middle of nowhere and far from textbook roach spawning conditions, according to what we thought we knew, where a small group of small roach were seen showing an interest in a few strands of ranunculus flotsam. There didn’t seem to be enough spawning substrate even for the small number visible and showing interest; that was until a spawning board was floated over them, when, within minutes, the immediate area around the board became stuffed with spawning roach; very encouragingly, from dinky little three year olds to eyewatering whoppers, plus everything in between, signifying good annual recruitment which was always going to be the icing on the Avon Roach Project cake.

Over the ensuing days, the spawning board became smothered in eggs which were left where they were to hatch: so heavily covered, that we’ll place two there next year to help them ‘spread their load’ or, perhaps try to install something permanent.

So, as well as simply supplying substrate in some places and leaving the eggs to hatch in situ, we also carried out some carefully considered spawn relocation as part of our ongoing population and genetic management.

It was extremely encouraging discovering new spawning sites, and while it’s not instinctive to return to the place of birth, existing in the same environment and reacting to the same conditions at spawning time, means that many naturally do as they reach maturity. However, it is also known that a percentage, some estimate 50%, establish new spawning sites, and so it goes on and is compounded year on year; a great survival strategy when you think about it; which, of course, will be far more noticeable with the higher population density the river now has, thanks in part to our efforts.

Just to clarify on the matter of spawn relocation… we manage extremely sensitively as we are fully aware that over-interference could trigger localised decline; but we think we have enough experience to enable the right level of management. Afterall, we’ve done OK so far…

On the barbel spawning gravel cleaning front, as last year, we were set to get in the river in early May as the windows of opportunity are narrow and determined by the salmon having finished with the gravels and the chub and barbel needing them, while optimising the effectiveness of our efforts by doing it close enough to the fish spawning while making sure we have left enough time for the cleaned gravel to be recolonised by invertebrates. However, coming out of winter means high groundwater levels at this time of year and the risk of any significant rainfall pushing the river levels too high for safe access, especially for a clumsy clod like me. Unfortunately, this May fell in the middle of a late soggy spring and a river too high for safe and effective gravel cleaning, and by the time it was safe, the chub had gathered to spawn. So, we came up with a cunning plan, rather than just abandoning it for a whole year.

The plan was to set aside time in October before the salmon and trout need the gravels, and clean areas with the jets and pumps and do a far more robust job on them in the hope that the ensuing winter is kind and the gravels remain relatively clear for the following spring. Our view is that even if there is some resiltation, by taking the big guns to it, or even if we just rake it, it will still be more favourable than simply leaving it. And, the level of effort is minimal when compared to the possible benefits it might achieve… and besides, we’ve nothing better to do.

Unfortunately, bad luck struck again and heavy rain and full river meant that we had to also abandon our autumn plans… but we’ll be set and ready to go next May. Damned frustrating, all this eco-warrior stuff…

On a positive note, what has continued to delight is the contact and engagement with folks from other rivers up and down the country, inspired by us and looking to do the same.

Finally, as promised, a word on predation.

Although the figures change as the overwintering cormorant numbers increase, many of the historical facts and arguments remain unchanged. Our (Avon Roach Project) original call to have them placed on the General Licence remains the main objective and we now work in partnership with the Angling Trust who joined us. But, anyone with any experience of these things will know the infuriatingly frustrating glacial rate at which these things can move (often being battered into submission by attrition).

It’s important to pick the moment and while we have achieved positive change, some of our efforts over the years have proven frustratingly fruitless - primarily a consequence of shifting (in some cases, insensitive) Defra personnel and ministers during this time.

More comprehensive details of our original policy challenge can be found on the ‘cormorant’ section of this web site… 

So, we updated our old data and added new, such as the recently re-designated, now red-listed, Atlantic Salmon, and resubmitted our challenge to the current licensing policy. Eventually we were granted a meeting at Defra headquarters in London with the minister and associates in March; where somebody uttered, as we went in ‘choose your words carefully as you’ll be speaking for two million anglers’… so, no pressure then.

I can’t give too much detail here, but the long and short of it is that we delivered a very compelling case and had an agreement that significant change to the current policy would be initiated. 

A few exchanges, honing the finer details, took place, and all was expected to be concluded before the predicted General Election in autumn. Then, everything hit the buffers and was derailed with the announcement of the July General Election and the subsequent outcome.

So, the reset button was hit and we will have to go again when the time is right, and hope the new lot can view it as an environmental positive rather than a party-political negative. 

In the meantime, we will be gathering tag count data under cormorant roosts along a southern chalk stream in which salmon parr and trout have been tagged over recent years. Working in partnership with the EA, Game and Wildlife Conservation Trust and Angling Trust, the aim is to add to the already compelling evidence we have of cormorant predation on our native and supposedly ‘protected’ inland fish populations, with the added gravity of our red-listed salmon.

Well, that’s it for now, so over and out, and I’ll let the pictures below tell the far brighter version of the story.

Once again, thanks to everyone who continue to show fantastic support and appreciation for our efforts.

Elmer Fudd on armed duty in the worst flood in living memory, and taking a well-earned tea break on a popular stretch of river south of Salisbury… We might make light of many things but the seriousness of support for things like the protection and wellbeing of our inland fish populations cannot be underestimated.

 

A bittersweet moment as the final two tanks were loaded… The long trough, as we called it, which you can see being slid between the tanks, originally designed for hatching trout and other gravel spawners, was going to be our daphnia farm where we’d grow all kinds of natural weeblies to feed our roach, which turned out to be the biggest duffer in the garden. We tried for years but failed miserably. All we managed was stinky, lifeless sludge. Good job we were a bit better at growing roach.

A reminder of Project HQ at full pelt. Goodness knows how many roach were thriving in that lot at any one time.

Cleared and levelled and a nice size pond excavated and filled for whatever wants it. Interestingly, within days it had been colonised by great diving and whirligig beetles and pond-skaters. 

Budgie’s wild flowers took a while, but once the spring arrived and they got going they exploded.

It all looks like quite an effort, but it really isn’t, which is part of the appeal.

The bees just loved the blue ones, which were the first to explode like a firework display. There were literally hundreds of ‘em all over, making the whole garden buzz. Perhaps there’s an argument that all roundabouts, verges and spare corners of parks should have a handful or two of wild flowers chucked on ‘em.

Cute newt… which will hopefully enjoy the pond and add to the population when she’s older.

A dinky little youngster, and part of a crowd of slowworms with a whole new compost heap to explore.

Once again, it was the irresistible allure of our ‘magic’ spawning boards that revealed a surprising local population density at a previously unknown spawning location. They were just as bad an aim as the rest as you can see from the spawn all over the top of the board… 

And this is how it happens… In their driven instinct to be part of the action and the explosive nature of it all, some launch themselves completely clear of the water, possibly exacerbated by the action being funnelled into a more concentrated area by the magic spawning boards. Quite a frequent occurrence but, so fleeting, it’s rare to capture on camera, but here we got one in mid double back flip.

And there were some big girls too.

This image shows good size variations in the roach. An indication of a healthy local population.

Not an inch of the spawning substrate was missed. They really are something special.

This vigorous activity went on for days, with each individual trying with all their might to pass on their genes to the next generation.

Some images need no words at all… Just look at that crowd of roach.

And, as usual, the spawning board was clogged thick with beautiful healthy roach eggs, which, once the roach had finished, we just had to lift for a look and a picture.

This close-up shows the eggs are ‘eyed’ as we fish farmers call it, meaning that the tiny roach within are developing nicely, and probably within a week of hatching.

Although a serious business, to the onlooker it might seem a little like boys with ‘Pooh Sticks’ as river keeper, Stuart Wilson, and me lay for ages trying to get close-up pictures of the roach spawning (and to see just how close we could get, while enjoying a privileged moment few get to experience). This was in a stream from where we relocated some of the spawn into the main carrier as part of ongoing population management.

Being as the matter of predation was touched upon in the main body copy, I thought I’d just drop this image in here as a reminder of where and when the cormorant licensing campaign started, which was with the delivery of our petition in London back in 2012. It shows that no matter who you have fighting your corner, these things crawl along at a rate it would be easy to be defeated by. But we will not! 

And to finish off, a favourite shot of some of the bruisers now frequenting the Avon, thanks to our efforts, and contributing each year and retaining the strong genetics that make the Avon Roach so special.  

Barbel, Roach, Tanks and Tats…

 

It’s been a strange year of wildly contrasting emotions without Budgie. Still, he continues to inspire and is in our hearts and thoughts, and our laughs and smiles, every single day as the Avon Roach Project legacy lives on. Our Avon roach continue to flourish with, not only eyewatering numbers and sizes but equally importantly, healthy numbers of little ‘uns showing throughout the river, meaning they are continuing to reproduce and survive in sufficient numbers and are naturally holding their own, which was the whole idea.

In addition to this we now also have the gathering interest and impact both here and on other rivers of our barbel gravel spawning substrate enhancement scheme which, despite being hampered by conditions, saw us out again earlier in the year.

And while the river continues its assisted recovery, so too does Project HQ as it slowly returns to being my garden with the removal of some of the tanks. 

The removal of the first five of the remaining nine tanks stimulated a morning of very poignant and strangely profound emotions. Apart from an obvious relief at finally getting a large lump of my garden back, there was a sense of closure, but balanced with an enormous sense of accomplishment these tanks had enabled by being home, every year for more than a decade, to literally tens of thousands of precious Avon Roach.

Unquestionably, the overriding emotion on the day was sadness at Budgie not being there conducting affairs. This was a significant ending and beginning of another chapter in the amazing Avon Roach Project story, and the first to be missed by Budgie who would have been wrapped, almost mummified, against the cold but been front and centre for every second. And, just as he offered to get in the river with us to rake the barbel gravels last year, but only up to his knees, he said, so I know he’d have jokingly offered to get a corner of each tank for loading onto the lorry. Although absent in body, he was with us in spirit and, I’m sure, taking the piss out of me… Bastard!

The tanks were taken to pastures new by the EA guys, on the biggest low-loader I’d ever seen… Two million tons and at least four miles long, I reckon. And, in my head, I could clearly hear Budgie say to the driver ‘Let’s have a drive of your lorry mate.’

Four of the five tanks had been situated right in the middle of the lower garden, as you can see in the pictures below, so rather than return it to lawn, as it had been, then resume bitching about having to mow it every few weeks, I decided that, in memory of Budg’ and the thousands of Avon roach that had occupied the space over the years, I’d sow wild flowers on the bare patches left by the tanks from the seed-mix Budgie had recommended and had grown in his own garden. The pictures below tell the story, with the final few images showing an additional shared and permanent symbolic nod to the great man.  

I’ve also included some memorable archive pictures that span the tanks entire life in our care as a reminder of what ended up far exceeding the original ‘roach in a bathtub’ concept.

So, to the latest Avon Roach Project activities, the ongoing barbel gravel spawning substrate enhancement scheme – we really need to come up with a shorter title; and this year, as last, we selected three more sites for our attentions.

The timing of this is critical and we have a small window of opportunity each year, partly to get the maximum benefit from the desilted gravel for the imminent spawners but also enough time for recolonisation of the vital invertebrate food source for the barbel larvae, particularly as they spend longer in the loosened gravel than other species, while considering any impact on the other things that might be affected by what we do and when. Despite a fair chance of favourable conditions at this time of year, we are still at the mercy of the weather and river.

The roach had started spawning right on time in a slightly high and coloured river at the end of April so we were hopeful.

However, it didn’t turn out as planned, in more ways than one.

First stop was to be a day at the famous Royalty fishery in Christchurch with new keeper, Dan; but the river remained just too high for safe access to the two spawning areas we’d planned on doing, so we reluctantly cancelled and have it at the top of the list for next year.

Next it was the area above the once prolific Severals, on Christchurch Angling Club controlled Ringwood fishery, which was pushing through, but did allow us to not only significantly desilt a vast area of gravels – the upper area of a known spawning site, but also take some very revealing before and after sediment samples, which we plan on doing periodically throughout the year, as well as linking in with some new and historical invertebrate sampling through the EA.

Many assume that just a bit of a flush naturally cleans the gravel, which it does at first glance but, unless thunderous, it simply brushes the organic dusty silt and algae from the surface, leaving the heavier compacted sediment where it is. You can see the differences in sediment weight and density in the closeup picture below… Sorry it’s not as interesting as our old roachy pictures.

The sediment samples are all taken from a litre of water taken from a critically controlled volume of disturbed gravel, also seen in the pictures below. The difference was quite remarkable and even from a single activity like our raking, it was very clear we were having a significant impact. We pondered the huge volume of silt we’d disturbed equating to the space now available to be filled with barbel eggs. No brainer, really.

Then on to a middle river spot pinpointed by a keen supporter within the bankside Game and Wildlife Conservation Trust just north of Fordingbridge controlled by Salisbury and District AC.

Unfortunately, very likely caused by the same erosion and run-off, plus the cattle poaching we highlighted in our original blog post when we started this initiative, responsible for years of buildup of fine sandy substrate and organic deposits, the gravel refused the attentions of our raking, no matter how much shoulder-power was used. It sounded like the rakes were being dragged across concrete. Although glowing golden yellow after the high water, it was impermeable and pavement hard.

Unfortunately, this, just as some other areas we have assessed have already shown they are in need of far more robust attention. We have decided the only way to achieve what we need here is to do it with pumped water through powerful jets; an old method historically used for salmon and trout redds, and one we have in our own armoury.

Another, more substantial and permanent option here would be to hinge and stake a nearby willow (which will remain living) across the upper area to create a flush of water to scour and oxygenate the spawning gravels; another tried and trusted undertaking in general river improvements in specific cases and something we’ll be looking into with the EA guys who, once again, with everything we’ve done this year, have been brill…

We want to avoid unnecessary silt displacement and do just
enough to enhance the pinpoint specific spawning areas. And, as previously mentioned, we have plans, when conditions are more friendly, to work on part of an easily observable spawning area to try to establish if the percolation of water on the underside of the fish stimulates a preference for the cleaned gravel as we know it does in trout – this may never be established, but worth a try (bit like our views on roach, which led to some astonishing discoveries)… Conditions this year made it difficult to spot spawning barbel but a few were definitely seen over some of the areas we worked on last year.

All our stomping about in a SSSI is, of course, subject to us obtaining relevant consents, but we managed it with the roach project, so don’t see a problem, other than the project now lacking Budgie’s ‘charm’…

Just like the old principles of the ARP, we want to work as sensitively and holistically as we can to simply improve the odds in the critical natural numbers game by increasing egg survival and fry recruitment while retaining the existing genetics, something we have always been extremely vehement about.

It is hoped that in time, there can be an almost river-wide coordinated annual undertaking, with the right consents and guidance, by those keepers and angling clubs wishing to take part in helping improve the river – a bit of ‘citizen science’.

So, over and out for now, and hope you enjoy this update.

Hopefully the pictures below are good enough to illustrate our efforts.

Sediment sampling was a little tricky in the fast flow, but the EA guys were up to it.

It entails a barrel, like a bottomless dustbin, being lowered and pushed into the riverbed where the inner gravel is violently agitated releasing the sediment into the water column within the barrel where one litre is collected and poured into a settlement tube for measuring meaning the amount of gravel disturbed is constant as is the volume of water sampled.

Several different spots were sampled, from close to the bank to almost mid-river, and the EA guys supplied all the equipment and expertise.

This image shows quite clearly, not only the worrying volume of silt from just one jug of water, but also the different weight and densities of sediment causing the problem in the spawning gravels; also, that even the flush of water from a high, weed-free winter river will have little impact other than to just buff up the very surface of the gravels a bit.

Samples taken and recorded and we went in with the rakes. We systematically work our way across the patch we had chosen. Our own ‘Riverdance.’ 

Even in the shallows you can see the volume of water coming past us. A bit disorientating if you don’t keep your eye in – especially being as clumsy as me.

The volume of silt we were dislodging was astonishing. However, we knew that when we were done, at least the upper part of this known spawning area would be far more friendly to barbel eggs and fry survival than before we gave it our attention. And we really did give it some attention.

Unfortunately, the main spawning area below the bridge will have to remain concreted and packed solid with silt as we have been denied permission by the controlling angling club to do this work on any of their stretches of river. Shame that unnecessary egotistical point scoring, even on this level, can deny club members and some once prolific barbel stretches of a free, no-brainer of a positive river improvement scheme. Hopefully, this might change one day.

We did, however, ensure our upstream improvements were done on a line and distance not to adversely affect the lower part of the spawning area, as best we could.

Phil finished off out in mid-river while I got some pictures showing the difference in the raked and unraked areas. It was also very noticeable when walking on it just how crumbly the raked areas felt underfoot compared to the solid non-raked.

We took sediment samples after we’d raked for comparison and this picture shows the effectiveness of our efforts. 

Dry suited up, Steve Trevett of Salisbury and District AC joined us and went in with Phil Rudd of the EA at the Fordingbridge location. But after a good period and expansive effort they conceded as the compaction of gravel over the whole area was just too much. They could make no impression at all. The rakes across the riverbed sounded like a muffled old harpsichord.  

In the picture it appears that there are ‘golden gravels’ above them but even here it was solid as a pavement.

It also appears that Steve is in a much deeper part of the river, but it’s worth noting that Phil is twelve feet tall.

So, to the tank removal, and the first five to go to their new custodians were these. Freestanding and easy to re-site. And, although pleased to see the back of ‘em, it was quite a moment.

Perfect fit on that giant truck, and another soppy moment as I am right where Budgie would have positioned himself for the picture and had his hand resting right where mine is.

Half my garden back and I can hardly remember it being that big. No wonder I used to bitch about how much lawn I had to mow.

So, just a bit of scratching and levelling and there are the perfect patches for some commemorative wild flowers.

Now a few archive pictures as a reminder of the amazing recent life on this little patch of ground and the miracles it enabled and memories it has bestowed.

Firstly, the moment the final lot of tanks arrived for us to place, sending Avon Roach Project and Project HQ to beyond bursting point with, of course, the clerk of the works, Budgie, in the left of the picture directing proceedings.

Remember, I was clueless about levelling and footings and anything other than drawing and printing and tripping over things so I was literally ‘voice activated’ when it came to all this stuff. Budgie, of course, was in his element – even more so knowing I was so far out of my depth… Bastard.

Project HQ at full capacity. Lids on for shade and protection from airborne predation, pumped and filtered water and home to unimaginable numbers of Avon Roach. Bloody hard work, but what a trip…

Clouds of ‘days old’ tiny vulnerable little roach born into a system that would enable a first year survival of tens of thousands against less than a handful in the wild from the same spawn volume. 

Healthy, strong, plump one year old Avon roach, pictured as they were being evicted from the tanks and taken to our stew ponds, and still only part of the way through their time in our care.

The ultimate reward as three different locations each year have thousands of adult Avon Roach returned. These moments, not only with the roach, but also with Budgie were very special… Two very proud boys. 

Then in July, two more of the final four tanks were collected and taken to pastures new. Incredible to think of the tens of thousands of precious little lives those grubby, ordinary looking tanks had been home to over the years.

Once beyond imagination: now an example of what can be achieved; even by a couple of clueless crackpots, if we put our minds to something with a little vision and determination.

So, I raked and levelled the patches where the tanks had been, scattered the seeds, gave ‘em a little swish and a shimmy with the rake and then this happened…The garden was literally buzzing with bees and all kinds of other pollinating insects. I could hear them half way down the garden. I have never seen a greater concentration of assorted pollinators in my entire life. 

And now, as I sit of an evening watching the sunset, I raise a beer to Budg’ and the thousands of roach and the life that now continues in the space they have left. 

A beautiful idea of Budgie’s daughter, Georgie, and wife Rose, was to have tattoos of the little kingfisher illustration I did for the Avon Roach Project book, which was used on the cover of the order of service for Budgie’s funeral, seen here. Other family members and friends, including me, also enrolled, and it now adorns necks, thighs, arms and legs as a permanent and proudly emblazoned emblem of a true legend.

While pondering where mine should be, I could hear Budgie in my head telling me… ‘Only one place for it, mate… It has to be on your arse.’ However, I decided my arm would be slightly easier for showing folks in the pub and on the riverbank…

Me being a brave boy and laughing in the face of my excruciating fear of needles… Never had any desire to have a tattoo in my life but didn’t hesitate for a moment when this was suggested.

And so finally, to Budgie, once again I say ‘see you tomorrow, mate.’