March is always a funny month as the daytime can feel like summer with mild temperatures and the sun’s rays beating down, then come nightfall it is as if someone has flicked the switch back to winter! However for those willing to brave the conditions some fantastic fish can be caught and lots of big named fish regularly make an appearance in the month of March.
I had been watching the weather forecast for the last few weeks waiting for mild stable conditions and low pressures before I made a start on my target water for the year. The lake last produced a fish in October and it had looked devoid of life for some time, with the aforementioned conditions predicted I made plans to get down straight from work on the Friday with the plan of doing two nights. I was extremely excited and all Friday the weather looked good and fish were certainly feeding as I was teaching a group of young lads how to feeder fish at For Life Experiences where I work and they were bagging up! Upon arriving at the lake it seemed I wasn’t the only one with that idea and it was pretty stitched up with only one bank remaining free but luckily for me it’s where I wanted to be.
I quickly set about having a lead about in front of my chosen swim and found a nice hard silt area around fifty yards out and decided this was worth putting a bit of bait on. I baited with around 1kg of 10mm Mainline Cell and half a kilo of 15 millers rolled by Kent Particles nice and accurately to the marker float. My rigs were kept fairly simple around seven inches of 25lb Gardner Sink Skin was coupled with a size 8 Covert Continental Mugga , I then used quite a large section of the Covert Super Shrink to trap the knotless-knotted hair to the shank of the hook (see sequence) and to this I attached a 12mm White Cell pop-up. I then threaded a small Micromesh pva stick down the rig and that was job done!
By the time I had finished getting the first rod out it had got pretty dark so I put the other two on hinged stiff rigs and cast them until I felt a drop I was happy with. The first night was very wet and fishless and I watched the water like a hawk the next day from the steep bank behind me. It gave a great view of my swim and from the slightly higher vantage point I could start to make out a few carp cruising just under the surface by around mid-day. I wasn’t sure at first but then a seagull swooped down extremely close to the surface of the lake and it just erupted as two big fish spooked. I was just tying up some zigs when my right hand rod over the bait went in to meltdown and I was on it in a flash. To say I was nervous was an understatement as this was potentially my first fish from the venue and after a hairy few minutes near some marginal snags a lovely 29lb 10oz mirror was being photographed. After returning the fish I topped up the spot with another kilo of mixed sized boilies and put an extra rod on the area.
It was soon dark and the fish seemed to have disappeared and another cold fishless night was on the cards. I awoke around 5am to a tufftie picking up my middle rod so I quickly got a fresh rig and bait on the spot before climbing in the bag again as it was now blowing a north easterly straight in my face and was freezing cold! At around 9am just as my mate turned up I had another take on my right hand rod but I lost it soon after hooking it. The rod was re-positioned within minutes and every other angler had packed up and gone home which I was extremely pleased about as it seemed they had woken up again. Over the next half hour I must have seen fifteen shows over my spot and they were clearly having it big time. The next bite produced one of the lake’s A-Team a fish known as “Fingers” that only makes one or two appearances each year and weighed a hefty 34lb 14oz. The fish looked immaculate in its winter colours and seconds after returning it my middle rod also on the spot roared off and after a spirited fight a beautiful 24lb 6oz common lay in the net.
My friend had also got his rods out to the left of my swim and mine were soon ‘back on the money’ and fish were still poking their heads out on a regular basis and just after consuming a well-earned brew my right hand rod was again in meltdown. On lifting the rod it felt like another good fish and upon lifting it on to the mat my suspicions were confirmed. The fish weighed 32lb 8oz and was my second 30lber in around an hour! The process was again repeated and I sat watching fish and I was expecting another one at any minute, but it was my friend who was next with the action. His right hand rod went in to meltdown and as he picked up the rod so did my right hand rod! We were both attached to angry carp and could not believe the mornings events it was incredible! We both had a pretty hairy scrap with the fish that had both decided to kite down the long snaggy margins to our left and right.
We both managed to land the fish and my mates weighed in at 17lb 2oz and mine was a 25lb 4oz mirror. I was made up to say the least and really impressed with my new 12lb Gardner Pro Carp Light Blend mainline. It held strong even during those few hairy moments where the fish managed to reach marginal snags and coupled with four feet of Heavy Plummet Leadcore everything went to plan. The rods were re-positioned but the wind was getting even colder and it had started to sleet and all signs of life had disappeared once more, it was almost as if a switch had once again been flicked to turn off any want of the carp to feed. I gave it another hour just in case but I think I had my fair share and managed to capitalise on a short feeding window when all others had returned to the warmth of their homes! I can’t wait to get back down there and hope my run of recent success can continue this year, only time will tell…
How to tie Tom’s rig
Step 1 – You will need the following materials.
Step 2 – Using a Peel and Pull stripper tool remove around 3 inches of coating.
Step 6 – Tie a figure of eight loop knot in the end of the rig for easy attachment to a Kwik Lok Swivel.
Step 7 – Attach a blob of Critical Mass putty to balance the pop up.
Step 8 – Tom’s finished rig ready to go.
Tom Oliver
April 2013
CALL US NOW ON: 01482 703485
As the day wore on, the small patch of ice melted away, revealing the deep hole in the opposite corner of the lake. I wound in the left rod and cast it into the 8ft hole. I left the chod rig where it was, as I was happy with where it landed. The Impossible Lake seems to just enthral me; I just get drawn in and want to be there all the time. Around 12:30pm, James arrived and we got to work doing some filming. While we were filming I recast the right rod a little further to the right and closer to the far side. As the afternoon wore on and the light began to fade, we did our final piece to camera, or so we thought!
I was just tidying the brolly up, when I had a single bleep on my right rod. Me and James jumped up and looked out to the spot over the right hand spot. There was a duck close to the spot, and for a second I thought it was the culprit. Then, all the doubt in my mind disappeared as the bobbin lifted and pulled slowly to the top, I was in shock, James was just shouting at me to hit it! Upon lifting into the fish, I could feel straight away it was a carp, using its weight to its advantage. The fish kited left, but I was gaining line steadily. Most of the way in the fish wallowed on the surface; we could see it was a nice mirror. I got him to 20 yards from the bank, when he decided to take some line, although he didn't take a lot it happened very fast. I soon had him back under control; James stepped into the margins with the net and scooped him up. Up went the shout and I just felt amazed at what I had just achieved. We left the fish in the net while we sorted out the mat and sling, as I lifted him up out of the water in the net; I knew he would make mid doubles easily. I peeled back the mesh and revealed its black back and chestnut flanks, covered in leeches and insects. We hoisted her up on the scales which read 14lb 8oz, not that I cared at all with a winter Impossible Lake carp; the smile may never leave my face, what an absolute corker!
My next session was planned for the last Saturday in March, during the week, the weather was hot and the barometer was soaring as the air pressure kept rising. However a change was on the cards, a massive low pressure was due for Saturday and I knew that this combined with the lower temperatures and high winds would spur the fish of the Impossible Lake to feed. I managed a short session on Friday afternoon in the sun on another water; I did well and landed 4 carp but lost a real good one which I was gutted about. I arrived at the lake at around 7:45am; I opened the gate and wondered down the path with all the palaver I take fishing. I got to the first swim, put the stuff down and walked further up the bank. The northerly wind was ripping into ‘The Flats' swim on the opposite side; that will do for me I thought to myself. I walked round and dropped the stuff in the swim and set about getting the rods out; both with the old faithful chod rig on the end. I cast one towards the point, an area where we have caught from before and where my last bite came from. It was only a 70 yard cast but the wind kept on putting a bow in the line so it took several casts to get the rig in position. The other rod was cast to the shelf in front of me just before a large weed bed, with the lines sinking; I set up the house for the day and got away from the wind for 5 minutes before clipping the bobbins on and reading a carp mag. After I had finished an interesting article in my magazine, I had a glance over the lake and noticed 2 people setting up, one in ‘Matchmans', the other on ‘The Island' both of whom I knew and had told my tales from the lake. I couldn't help but think back to the days where me and Mat used to have the lake to ourselves every time we went, so with an extra 4 rods in the water I have to say my confidence dropped slightly, as I knew how spooky the fish were of lines and casting. I just hoped that because my lines were sunk down really well, the carp would stay over on my side of the lake.
James was due down on the lake at 11:00am, so I filmed an intro for my You Tube video. James arrived slightly late and set about getting his stuff sorted, while complaining at how busy the lake had become. After he had got his rods out, we got some more filming done and talked about how the lake has changed since the summer; the weed had died off almost entirely. As we talked and laughed about all things fishy, we noticed 2 more guys on the opposite bank turn up to fish; great now there are 10 rods in the water! Luckily for us, the 2 guys got bored and left after only an hour. At around 1:35pm me and James got up from our chairs and have a glance over the lake, while doing this James mentioned how great it would be to catch another Impossible Lake carp on my second session of the year. Probably only a minute later my right hand rod let out a couple of bleeps and tightened up. I lifted into the fish and the rod arched over, but then the fish just swam towards me! After only a minute the fish surfaced and revealed its jet black body and common scales, before gliding safely into the waiting net. I lifted him out and onto the mat; it was probably the chunkiest 11lb 2oz common I have ever seen! Super short yet really solidly packed, but a proper stunner. After a few trophy shots of the fish, we released him back into the lake to grow even bigger.
I recast the rod and me and James resumed talking about how happy we were to have bagged another fish in our very next session. About 10 minutes after the capture of the common James mentioned that we might as well go home now, as we have never caught 2 fish in one session from the lake before. James got up from his chair about 5 minutes later to slacken off his right hand rod, while he was on his way back to his chair, my right hand rod ripped off at a rate of knots! I lifted the rod, which immediately went into battle curve; I knew straight away it was a bigger one. After James had finished swearing at me in disbelief, he got the camera and filmed the fight. The fish was really powerful and held deep, which was not what I wanted it to do. It started to kite to the right and was becoming dangerously close to my left hand rod. James quickly took it out of my way and I got the fish in front of me. For a few more minutes, he charged down the steep marginal shelf, until he surfaced. At first I thought it was one of the fish Mat had caught, but it wasn't to be, as I scooped him up into the net I realised it was a fish I had caught twice before, we hadn't named it yet so I called it ‘A H' because the scales on one side spell that! Despite the slight bit of disappointment I felt at catching him again, he looked really full and solid, so at least I knew they were getting some food in them. The scales confirmed my thoughts as they read 16lb, 2lb up on the last time I caught him. I have to say though it is a stunning looking fish, not short but broad and really solid. I hoisted him up for the camera and released him back to the water.
Just after we put the fish back, James had to pack up and leave, I told him to stay and I would give him a lift back, but he just said ring me if I catch any more. He left about half an hour later, but no sooner had he left; my right hand rod was away, which I recast not 20 minutes beforehand! I was in shock as I bent into my third fish of the session; again he held there deep and plodded all the way in towards the bank. When it surfaced for the first time, it rolled over the line and it pinged off its dorsal fin; my heart skipped several beats never mind one! After a couple more minutes, I netted another Impossible Lake mirror. I rang James and he biked back to do the filming and pictures. A proper chunk of a fish it was, and very detailed. Its dark back was etched in greys and charcoals, running down to its golden belly, littered with starburst scales.
Once I returned the mirror which went 12lb 12oz on the scales, I re did the rods and sat back down, soaking up the atmosphere; it was electric. James departed soon after, although I told him to stay, as I was still feeling lucky. I was right. My right hand rod pulled up tight and the Delkim shrieked. I lifted into the fish, which started shaking its head violently, making the rod buck and line sing in the breeze. Around 10 yards from the bank, the fish launched itself out of the water! Just like a marlin would. I knew that it could only be one fish, ‘The Little Original', and indeed it was. After several more jumps and flips it was safely in the folds of my net. Instead of making James come back again, I phoned Mat, who was more than happy to do some pictures for me. This fish just looks as old as the hills that surround the lake, ridiculously dark with large central scales and a large scar down one side, a proper old warrior.
I went home early to share the experience with my family, who have listened to my countless tales and questioned my sanity for the 60 times I have blanked on the venue. They were so pleased for me and knew it meant the world to me; I was, and still am, on cloud nine.
Andrew McFarlane (screamer26)
May 2011
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After being accepted at Sparsholt College studying a degree in fishery management, there was no question in my mind. I had accomplished a significant goal as I took one step closer to conquering my career in life. The car was packed and I was on my way to Hampshire, surrounded by such famous venues as Redmire, Wraysbury and Wellington Country Park along with the memoirs of Chris Yates' descriptions of the area. The gin clear chalk streams providing Hampshire's life line, flowing through the land along with the sensual intensity of stretches such as Mottisfont. Although my time would be limited and my laptop receiving more use than my rods, the temptation remained. The urge to be on the bank, the primeval yearning to be concealed within nature's beauty and bear its fruit on the mat.
There are many accomplished and established anglers who have rightly earned their place on the scene and received media coverage as a result of this, and magazines continue to produce features claiming to have discovered the revolutionary new rig, roughly translated to a previous angling innovation disguised by contemporary components. A large proportion of the industry falls within the same suit, guilty of media manipulation where anglers are lured into a false sense of security and blank because they haven't got the latest set of alarms. It is madness! Therefore I am going to focus upon carp fishing strictly from a student's prospective; an area within publishing that is rarely covered despite nurturing the new blood of the sport. The student loan, the work load and the overdraft are inevitable but the instinctive quest for the carp continues. . .
After arriving in Winchester, Hampshire on the 27th September, fuelled after my previous session, I was curious to examine my surroundings and exploit my new found habitat. During the week I planned to spend the odd hour just a stone's throw away coarse fishing and spend my weekends in pursuit. However, due to the geology of Hampshire, the ground primarily consists of chalk, flint and chert. Whilst this provides exceptional river quality, the chance of finding a farm pond was an uncertainty.
Amongst the persistent doom and gloom of the winter months, I craved to be on the bank but I was forced to accept the corollary. This was a financially dangerous era consisting of many nights spent stalking and observing Internet auctions. After months of surveillance I finally spotted my quarry and netted three rods and reels. I was ecstatic despite my wallet proving terminal. This led to further evenings procrastinating, fettling and re spooling as the plummeting temperatures proved relentless, and insanity began to set in.
I reached breaking point and a last minute decision saw me heading back to Bolton (where I was greeted by the distinctive broad accent of my home town) to retrieve my rolling equipment. After a refreshing weekend with friends and family I returned armed with the essentials to begin production of northern cream; my own mix of base ingredients matched to subtle flavours, encompassed in a crunchy texture.
I choose to roll my own bait for many reasons such as the cost. A boilie costing up to £13 per kg (assuming you are not sponsored), after removing manufacturer's profit, trade profit and delivery charges you are left with a bait costing as little as a few quid ... it makes you question what the bait actually consists of. I am also a firm believer in the HNV theory (high nutritional value) where a bait contains the highest grade of ingredients given the production budget and contains no bulking agents.
During mass market however this isn't always the case. Mass production reverts back to one controlling factor; cost and how to reduce those costs, after all it is still a business. So remove the subsequent charges and imagine what ingredients and attractors that you could include if you developed your own boilies that actually did cost £13 per kg. I am aware that the issue of time and ease are governing factors but it does make you think. Developing a boilie over a period of time allows you to observe the outcome and make the necessary tweaks and changes, therefore your confidence when using it is unrivalled.
I am no expert when it comes to rolling bait but after speaking to Alan at AA Baits and Paul at Chapel Baits, I was inspired by their enthusiasm along with the detailed knowledge they offered and over the past two years I have come to understand why certain additives are prolific. With the freezer forced to ingest the product of my long nights I was equipped for my future encounters.
The weather gradually began to co-operate as ice sheets glistened, weeping tears of their retreat. Research began to find a venue in the area. As I don't drive, I come to the conclusion I would require a local water that was accessible on weekends. Eastleigh and district angling club run several waters in the area so I scanned through forums and gathered knowledge of its' potential. With a good string of lakes and the advice from fellow students I set about attaining a ticket on the basis that I and two others would begin a campaign and split fuel money between us, however this was short lived as the ticket is only available in April. The thought of spending more evenings indoors proved torturous. I am an outdoors person and I become easily agitated faced with angling restraint, not another vegetable just motionless, fermenting in front of the television or computer as many other teenagers appear to do so. I vigorously hunted for a venue to apply myself, a water to cleanse my financial winter sins, so the search continued...
After some deliberation, Ash (a fellow student) remembered a water him and his brother had once fished on holiday as a youngster. Without hesitation we set about Google maps to obtain a postcode for the area. Within an hour the car was appallingly parked and the muck boots were on. Straining my eyes we headed to the horizon. It wasn't long before we were met by a magnificent spectacle; a small overgrown lake about 1 ½ acres in size containing a large island. I'll admit I was sceptical about the size until I reached the edge of the bank.
I looked at the margin and was met by a window of opportunity. The lake was gin clear, top to bottom and it was in fact my first impressions that had been clouded. Gravel, weed, silt and underlying features were all perceptible to the eye. A loud shriek from a startled moorhen suddenly broke the silence along with the surface layer and the look on our faces' expressed our excitement.
Soon Christmas crept upon me, so I returned home for the usual family procedure. Upon our return to Sparsholt we set about establishing a date for our first session. Wednesday 9th February was chosen as we did not have any lectures. After a slow start to the day (due to alcohol consumption the previous night) we packed the car and set about the day. I and Ollie Ricotti arrived at the lake at 11.30am. The polarisers were drawn and my vision was plunged into a whole new world of immersive interest. Although there were clear spots consisting of flint nodules, I was not convinced they were cleared feeding areas amongst the carpets of weed. The spots appeared ancient indicating the natural lay of the lake. After a few calculated laps round the lake a feint shadow briefly passed Olli's eye. He indicated for us to stop. We froze, our gaze piercing the subtle ripple of the surface. The shape reappeared, a dark mirror gliding effortlessly inches off the substrate. It was hard to judge the depth due to the quality of the water. Its colouration accurately adapted to merge itself within the murky silt and leaf litter; as a result the fish was hard to distinguish and its size hard to judge. As the fish disappeared from view, we hesitated to see if it returned but after a few minutes passed we decided to continue our patrol route hoping to encounter another carp on its own patrol route.
After completing a further two circuits, cautious of our vibrations being emitted as we crossed areas of gravel, we returned to the first spot. It was harder still to depict between flora and fauna due to an increasing ripple across the water's plane. As we were sitting, posed monitoring the swim, bubbles began to appear around 10ft parallel to the near bank in alignment with an old twisted branch. I crushed a few NC in my pocket, careful to retain my decreased protrusion against the skyline behind me. Piece by piece a small 8 bait carpet of crush was bowled into place. We treated back to retrieve the gear and set about trogging across the boggy field. The slack water behind the island was calm providing cover from the wind. The rods were assembled in the field, well away from the bank to prevent spooking any fish that had moved on to the bait.
We chose to fish 3 rods; two over the baited spot and a choddy cast about the area throughout the day. The bottom rigs consisting of size 6 raptors to two tone stiff link with a two inch stripped back section to provide a supple hinge near the hook. Simple bolt set up incorporating dark brown leadcore and a 2 ½ oz lead to provide an instant hook hold as we could be fishing slack lines. The choddy fished directly off the mainline with a choddy hook baited with a pineapple pop up to provide high visibility.
The baits were lowered into place and the line was left hugging the bottom loosely trailing up the near bank, (still 3 ft in depth) where the rods were reasonably set back. The line was allowed to settle for a good ten minutes whilst the remaining luggage was retrieved from the field and partially concealed within the scarce vegetation the bank had to offer. Both bottom baits with Small stringers ensured at least a few mouthfuls of feed was still present in the swim whilst semi folded chairs allowed us to amalgamate amongst the hawthorn.
With the volume turned down on the alarms we sat back and I come to understand my surroundings. The southwestwardly winds over the previous weekend had encouraged the temperature to rise by a few degrees encased by the overlying cloud cover above, adding an element of greyscale appearance to the land. The silence offered a pleasant contrast to the usual shouts and subwoofers of the student life. The odd coot or moorhen could be heard in the margin further up the bank as it dived, leaving distinctive concentric trails in its wake. The predicament every angler is faced with at some point as they instinctively turn to the sound of a fish crashing out only to be met with a sinking disappointment as a bird resurfaces despite its' own unique beauty. The pair of swans gracefully paddled on the far bank as they examined the blue plastic feeder housing seed. There was also another feeder present at the other side of the lake, a small platform secured to the bank. I presumed this was to encourage ducks to land as I had noticed a few empty shotgun cartridges upon arrival.
Acknowledging the feeder I began to question whether this would provide a food source for the carp. After an in depth discussion with Olli about similar situations on previous waters he concluded to examine the blue drum. The mixture contained 3 different seeds, one of which being barley but I was unable to identify the other two.
Suddenly at 12.45pm Olli's right hand Neville uttered a few low pitched groans of indication. (The tone of abnormality due to a low battery) but this still resulted in a rush of adrenaline instantly bolting me into an upright position as he scurried past the hawthorn, oblivious to the thorns as he edged closer to gain a better look at the bobbin. The tension mounted as another bleep occurred despite the line retaining its limp morphology. He remained in prime position transfixed by the mystery of what lay before him, wondering whether a fish had sussed out the rig he had earlier immersed.
After a few minutes he returned to his seat curious as to the cause of the disturbance. Once again the alarm sounded then burst into life and the rod tip folded vigorously, restrained by the snag ears. He grasped the rod and expecting to lift into the fish but was only re-united with the weight of the dung lead. The contorted face of confusion needed no explanation... the fish had managed to drop the rig!
A few more chops made their way to the bottom as Ollie made his way back to the drawing board still puzzled as to what went wrong. I decided to walk a quick circuit of the outer bank in an effort to locate the fish. Although the carp are dark in colour and the temperature still below double figures most days, the fish were within the surface layers. Whilst this enabled them to be spotted, it proved difficult to target them as they were not feeding at this depth. I grabbed the polarisers and chose my trail. Aware of my stage, I performed to perfection avoiding the gravel spots. Pausing in position beside the wooden bridge I was surprised to see 9 fish heading against the ripple towards the snags. As we are unaware of the size range and stock of the lake, it was clear there were several fish estimated as mid doubles with the three ghost carp marginally larger in size. By watching the fish and noting their behaviour, it was clear there were set patrol routes in which they followed.
The periods of increased wind rendered the polarisers inadequate so I headed across the bridge onto the island to check the snags. I was met by the familiar smell of wet moss as the creak of rotten wood startled me. The spindly branches piercing the water's depths providing sanctum for mystery whilst the roots hugged the earth beneath me. I was grateful to be graced with nature's maturity for providing us with such a substantial aquatic environment. The element of overgrown undergrowth was far from a commercialised gravel peg and in turn much more appreciated.
I scuttled back to Olli and explained the outcome of my expedition. We debated changing swims but our confidence remained. We figured the fish were capable of several laps of the lake within a day and we had never seen them stationary, which was interesting given the time of year. To build a detailed profile we would need to commit time to various swims regardless of where we had spotted the fish. This appears to be an unorthodox approach but the size of the water and the movement of the carp meant that they could be present anywhere on the substrate and they would be hard to spot. If we followed the fish throughout the day the chance of disrupting their habits would be higher than our chance of catching them. After receiving a take earlier in the day, we knew that the bait was not an issue and the fish must have been passing the crumbled carpet therefore we remained in position. I believe that observation and interpretation of behaviour leads to results.
At 4:30pm we spotted a few fish moving along the far bank, remaining up in the water. It was interesting to observe their routine as they continued to patrol between 3 points with the baited spot at the focus. This raised our confidence after a carp had deceptively dropped the hook earlier in the day. A brief gust of wind prevented our perception whilst allowing our nerves to build.
Darkness soon gained ground upon us as the light diminished. The trees and their branches became disguised by their own shadows as gusts of wind eased them in to place. My sense of scale was soon impaired as I looked out into the darkness before me. Only the odd street lamp revealed itself in time with the wind, casting a vague silhouette of the island and its inhabitants. Utilising the darkness I edged my chair closer to my rods to avoid being snagged upon a take. At around 5pm this would be the time of day where the water was at its warmest. Feeling somewhat optimistic I switched to a red filter on the head torch and tied up a few stringers of NC before submerging myself back into blackness.
5.10pm, during a depressing chat to Ollie about the fore coming day's events, a light was shone upon us as my alarm emitted a tone of encouragement. Had the fish moved in for the evening feed? I crouched beside the alarms to ensure the bobbin was still in place. 5.20pm and Olli's right hand Neville produced a further string of single bleeps. We were convinced that the fish had moved onto the baited areas, feeling more confident as they obscured by the night sky.
A detailed account of indications had been noted throughout the day to allow us to form a prediction of their feeding times in the future. This would enable 2-3 hour sessions to be made after college so any spare time we had would be spent on the bank. 5.30pm and the right hand rod erupts with anger, the tip arched, hugging the snag ears as the clutch refused line. Olli lifted into the fish, illustrating the rods progressive action - were we soon to reveal our first mystery from the deep? After a few short seconds the tip recoiled and the mystery remained. Upon withdrawal we examined the rig to find a clean snap at the hooklink despite the 25lb strain stated. Olli uttered a few select words in anger at the outcome.
The sky had darkened further and our aspirations had been lowered along with the temperature, so we decided to begin packing away leaving the rods till last. I'm sure every angler follows the same routine; the time of day demands he retreat but the rods remain till the very last minutes as he can procrastinate no longer, so he returns home to his partner usually many hours overdue. I'm sure many men justify their affair with nature in their own way whether it may be excuses or demand of acceptance.
Despite the first session drawing a blank for the pair of us, we have gained significant knowledge of the area so the trip has been a successful experience. Over the following weeks this will be applied to hopefully exploit nature and see what she truly has to offer.
Tight lines,
Tom Broomhead
March 2011
George
20lb; part of a 6 fish haul!
After that hectic session I had a few weeks away from fish for a family bereavement, after a month away I was back fresh faced and ready for action. I remember those first few weeks being terribly slow for the winter and I ended moving about the lake quite a bit, one particular session in November I actually had all the gear on the barrow for packing away when I got a take, a nice 22lb'er really got me out jail that session after lapping the lake all day looking for the fish.
With that in mind I decided on baiting a new swim with just hemp, maggot and some casters (from the old man) only a couple of buckets at a time. The following session I was back in there with two single bottom baits dropped on the new marks. I lost one under the branches and went to bed feeling deflated and suddenly out of tune with a lake that I had been in tune with all summer!
However the next morning whilst in the next swim having a brew the Neville let out a series out bleeps, I quickly dashed back to the swim to see a massive boil on the surface the rod tip, bucking round and the clutch ripping off - I was in! To be honest it was like playing a paper bag, two short lunges and up and into the net. A lovely 25lb Mirror photographed and weighed for the photo album. A lovely November treat.
A November Stunner
After this session I fished a further two more in there before the big freeze of 2009 came. And it didn't clear until late January of 2010!
I returned to the lake in mid February full of beans (like we all are after a freeze) and dropped my gear in the swim I'd done well in through the summer. I only fished three single brights that session with no freebies at all, it was a bloody cold night, but made warmer by the liners I was getting, some of them were very violent the hanger whacking up to the top and then slowly dropping back down.
Winter Common
At 11am the next morning when the sun was highest in the sky out of the blue, the right hander pulled round; I couldn't believe my eyes! I soon had a lovely 24lb common in the net, one of the rarer ones to visit the bank as well.
After that I began starting to bait the lake a lot more regularly again but the area completely died a death when I started baiting it heavily again, in hindsight I think I jumped the gun a bit, see that fish was probably just passing through from the main body of water into the shallower water off the snags which was getting lovely and warm because of the sun beaming on it all day, and as soon as the cold weather snapped back later that week the fish went back out into open water.
Winter was Cold and Bleak
The season was now at an end and I didn't do much fishing at all through the spring, I went and fished a club water for a few weeks, and for some unknown reason I did have plans to fish another water but in the back of my mind there was one fish that I dearly wanted to catch from Birchwood. It was a fish called "Caths Fish" a lovely fat carp that Rob Stocked originally when the pit was dug; she went between 29 and 32lb each year, best chance at her was the autumn (or so I thought)..! So again I was handing my hard earned coin for one last year in an attempt to bag a new PB which was at the time 32.8lb, an ounce over that one would do me! Anyway I set out with the goal of catching her.
My first session back on the pit I had an old friend out, it was the Ghostie at 19lb again, this was going to be a problem with trying to catch Caths, with it being such a small pool I had to accept that I might be catching some of the same fish I'd had before, I took that on the chin and still went with my plan of baiting heavily in some areas she had been caught from in the past.
It was around this time I met Chris aka "Boilie Stop" off the forum, I'd set him up for a ticket and he seemed mega keen. I remember our first session together he fished opposite me in the "Lawn Mower" swim. I got a take that night at 1am no sooner had I hit in to the fish Chris was next to me eager to see what it was, scared the living day lights out of me!! lol as it happened it was only a baby mirror LOL. Sorry mate..., we had a good laugh about that one though. The next day he was to see one of the proper ones I had a take at 10am that was a screamer a lovely fight and a nice lean mirror went in the net. At 1st I thought it was that 27 mirror I had last year, but it wasn't it was a new one for me and at 24.7lb he was more than welcome, I think Chris was happier than me with the capture!
After that I managed a further 3 more upper doubles to 19lb, they were coming thick and fast again, I carried on catching a few old flames for a couple of weeks until we were into the month of August and I pulled into the car park on the 27th for another two-nighter. I remember to this day that lead sploshing against the snags on the far side, an hour later the take I had been hoping came; at first I thought it was another small one but the fish just grew and grew when it came in, it was not until I went to lift it out that I got the shock of my life!
Being a small chap I couldn't move it! Anyway I had my spinach and lifted the fish up - It was CATHS! I think my shout scared the crap out of Chris he came running round. We weighed her on two sets of scales and settled for a weight of 33.5lb her biggest weight, a lake record and a new PB!! I was blown away to have such a big fish in my hands, I'd worked so hard for that one in the past few years and now to see her on the mat proved it was worth the 100mile round trip three times a week, over 150k of boilies and generally moaning about it to my misses every night for two years.! I slipped her back to a big salute for avoiding me for so long.
The Big Girl
After that I reeled in, rang everyone I knew about it. That was a massive weight for her in the summer, she'd only done 32lb in the Autumn the previous year so she'd obviously been eating all those boilies and getting away with it Scot free... wise old girl!
The next morning I re-cast and was sat talking to Chris when the same rod ripped off, Bloody Hell! "Can this be happening again", it was another old friend the near Leather at 24lb in the net! WOW!
24.6lb
That night I went home and went the pub for a celebratory drink with the misses I know it might sound sad but it was a big achievement for me to bag her; I'd had a crap couple of months with stuff ‘off the Pitch' and to bag Caths put my head straight again. Unfortunately last week on the weekend of January 15th I found Caths Fish dead in the margin by an apparent Otter Attack, I was heart broken to find her in the edge after catching her last, but she won't be forgotton - not by me anyway!
I hope you've enjoyed the article.
Tight Lines...
Lowey
February 2011
Now, I have to admit that the first year was a total nightmare for me; I had three fish to show for it and as luck would have it, I managed to catch the same fish twice! However, I do remember my 1st session on. I arrived after a hard days work to find only one lad on, John his was name and he'd had a nice 19lb'er in the night and was just packing up as I arrived. Now Matt had filled me in on all the going swims and areas to have a look at, however that night I fished "The Middles" swim, that had a lovely view right up the pool and the plan was to sit and watch like a hawk to see if I could see anything. Nothing showed. So I soon had two rigs into position ready for the night, I went to sleep feeling excited about my first Birchwood carp!
I awoke around 5am and was half way through a brew when the left hander roared off after a superb fight I had my first fish in the net, it was a lovely 18lb'er, not big but I was over the moon to have drawn first blood on my first session! I slipped him back and went home a happy man, excited for my next coming sessions. Now I won't dwell too much on it but I spent the next few months fishing the place like a complete BIRK! Switching baits every session and generally rushing desperately to catch, sometimes I think carp fishing can take us down the frustrating path of not catching and the longer is goes on the worse it becomes.
By now we were getting into autumn and it was time for my second bite which turned out to be the same fish I had at 18lb in summer, this time weighing a superb 22lb! Boy was that fish growing. It was around this time that I started fishing more with the regulars, I always find Winter socials are the perfect time to pick other anglers brains about waters, I find they generally open up after a few ‘light' ales that I give them! LOL. Anyway as it turns out pre-baiting was the way forward, which is something I hadn't really done before in my fishing, usually I was using singles for a quick bite on lakes that I had fished before. Obviously I was going to have to try it!
After a hard winter I was ready to go armed with 60 kilos of boilie to help me out! I came down for the first spring look around at the start of March and a lovely mirror launched itself clear of the water in one of the bays on the opposite banking - Lovely. That's were I'll be baiting from now on, that week I visited the lake twice only dropping 2k of bait were I'd seen the fish crash I didn't want to over do it with the bait, still being unsure of what I was actually doing with all this pre-baiting malarkey! So after another hard days graft I was soon pulling into the car parking for my usual Friday night. Luckily I had the place to myself that evening and with it being dark I simply dropped my gear in the pre-baited swim and launched two rigs out to the clips that I had already marked out on a previous baiting trip, the spot I was casting to was a lovely hard clayey patch that felt the one for a bite, the other was just off the baited area tight to an old snaggy bush. At the time I was using bottom baits but for some reason I totally went against the way I think of fishing over a pre-baited mark and fished a snow manner with a bright pop-up for company, it was out there 15mins and it was away. After a spirited scrap I had 19lb'er in the net...WOW! This pre-baiting works after all I thought or was I lucky..? That night I went to bed happy with the results at 1am the same rod was off again, that felt a powerful fish and unfortunately it went round the back of an island and dumped the rig gutted to say the least!
After this success I started upping the baiting. I began baiting all over the lake; my plan was that wherever those fish swam and or laid up there would be one of my baits there waiting for them on their travels. Over the next couple of weeks I started catching some of the smaller fish quite regularly and before the end of the season I had a couple of lower doubles and 9-10lb fish to show for my efforts. Still I now knew what worked and I planned on still baiting throughout the close.
The baiting worked!
I was now starting my second season on the lake and this time our Rota was on the second week, whilst the first week fished away my heart sank every time I got a text through on the mobile, luckily none of the bigger fish that I wanted to catch this season had been caught on the first week. This year I was not going to be messing about clowning around, it was time to get serious. During the close season I carried on baiting 2 spots heavily, I went through about 40k of boilie and about 40k of hemp in two months and the more I put in the more it looked prime. Finally I was arriving at the back of the swim with my gear ready for the off; I was brewing with confidence having a head start on the rest of the lads; I soon had both rods on their marks.
Casper the Friendly Ghost
Nothing occurred during the night but at 6am in the morning the left hander fished to the far bank ripped off and I was soon in contact with Mr Angry. A good ten minutes or so passed and I hadn't even seen this fish and when I did see it I thought my eyes were playing tricks on me, this white bar of soap popped up in the form of a 19lb ghost carp, I soon had him slipped back after a couple of pictures. I didn't even get the left hander back out to the spot when the right hander was away; this felt a much better fish plodding away and hanging deep. After 5 minutes of argie bargie I had a superb common carp in the net. It was a fish know as the ‘Bent Back Common' at a nice weight of 24.5lb I was over the moon with my first session - What a Start! Mid week I was back armed with some more bait as I was obviously doing something right with the baiting.
The Bent Back Common
I was starting to get into a little routine now, I would go up there Wednesday night bombard the spots with bait and then fish the Friday night after work. The next session started off with a superb fish, one which I dearly wanted to catch, and seen a picture of it every time I walked into the lodge, it was a fish called "Split Tale". I still had the gear on the Barrow at the time and had the rods laid on the deck with the clutches set. I was just getting my stuff off the barrow when I heard a ‘ticking' noise, "What's that?" only then I realised It was had a take! The scrap was awesome powering off on deep surges into open water, heart stopping stuff I can tell you! Eventually I had the fish in the net and weighed her up at 26.9lb, I was over the moon to catch one of the A-team.
Split Tale
After that I was fairly sure I'd done the swim and was going to move but I decided to stay put and sit it out for another night, next morning the same rod is away again and I had a lovely 19lb'er in the next, I slipped him back to fight another day. As you can tell things were going very well at this point I'd had 5 takes in 2 sessions all on snowman's with a bright bait on top. Some may think its strange fishing a bright over the top of a baited spot, but having done this over the past couple of years trust me it works. In my opinion you want your hook-bait to scream out from the rest of the freebies on the deck. I have had takes literally minutes after re-baiting and I'm convinced when those fish come in and start feeding a bright hook-bait get's taken very quickly, plus it's different to what everyone else was doing on the pond. I was the only one pre-baiting now and more or less had my rota to myself, so it was very enjoyable fishing.
If I remember correctly I had a few rotas off over the next couple of weeks but I was still sticking some bait in once a week just to keep the fish interested, I returned at the start of August for a 2 night session. I got there at dawn on the first day and had a couple of laps of the pool, I didn't see much at all that misty morning so I headed into the pre-baited area. I took my time setting up that morning I remember I didn't get the rods in till about 1pm, at 8pm the right hander ripped off and I was in. After a brief battle I had a superb looking 25lb missile shaped mirror on the mat. After a few self takes he was put back to fight another day.
25lb Mirror
Nothing else occurred through the night. The next morning I was up and thought about a move the area looked dead, with the weather being very nice I decided to rest swim for a couple of hours. So I re-baited and went for a few hours in the stalkers swim, I soon had two rigs under-armed against some snags - it was out there about 15 minutes and it was off! After a brief scrap I had a stunning little mirror, I think it was only 12lb but boy was he a pretty one. Thus he was christened - The Pretty One.
The Pretty one
Back on form, the swim was done. So I returned back to the pre-baited swim wandering what to do next, I'd been away for all of 25mins! I was proper tired that afternoon so I thought I'll drop them on the spots and get my head down whilst things were quiet. I didn't get a chance. I literally cast out, put the rod on the rest, turned round to get in the bag and beeeeeeep!! It was away! Unbelievable! The fight was familiar and it was no surprise to see the Bent Common back on the Un-hooking mat venting Ocean Protein all over the place! Rod back on the spot I was all of sudden feeling wide awake again! Over the next 3 hours I took 2 more upper doubles from the spot and lost another in the evening, it was going off down there!
That night I crashed out on the bed chair. At 5am the right hander was off again, this fish was more like it and led me on a merry dance right round most of the lake, finally he was beaten and I had a superb 27.9lb Mirror ready for a self take. What a bloody session! Six takes, three 20's and three doubles! WOW! At this point I realised I'd actually ran out of bait, think I had a handful of boilies left in the Air dry sack...! So I decided to go home a day early after 6 fish and no sleep.
27.9lb Mirror
After that session I came back for a few day sessions and had a couple of low twenties from a different area of the pool, I would of fished the going swim, but it had attracted attention from the other syndicate members, thus I pretended like I hadn't fished there for basically a full year!
There was more to come as the season continued, but I'll cover more about that in the second part.
Tight lines...
Lowey
February 2011
Nothing else came of that session but I felt I was taking a step in the right direction. It seemed like a month before I was back on again but it was only three days! I had worked my socks off the previous day to get a bathroom finished that I was fitting so I could get to the lake earlier.
After walking around the lake for about three hours and climbing every tree I could. I couldn’t seem to find any fish worth having a go for so I decided to set up in a swim that receives little pressure. I had been baiting this swim for a couple of weeks now and had my first fish of the year off it. I couldn’t settle for some reason though, it just didn’t seem right. After about an hour of being in this swim I was sitting on my matt and saw a good fish crash on the far side, so being a bit of an opportunist I reeled the rods in and went to investigate.
When I arrived in the swim I could see a lot of good fish there so I took off my hoodie and hat and dropped them in the swim and ran as fast as I could to get my gear from my other swim. I just threw all my kit on the barrow brolly still with poles and pegs attached!
I arrived back at the swim to find someone just coming from it he had asked if I was planning to fish it. Now given the state I was in gear strewn all over my barrow and sweating buckets you would thought he would have guessed that!
It turned out he was looking at fishing the same swim but decided to fish the pads. I was all set up in about thirty minutes after sorting the carnage out. There were fish everywhere in the swim so I decided to leave the rods out and trickle some bait in from up a tree to a hole in the weed. I must have spent three hours up that tree feeding the fish and as the fish didn’t show any sign of moving, the time had come to get the rods out.
I also had a lovely common at 26lb and ounces. There were only three fish I caught that were single figures which were all characteristic fish in their own way. The big mirror evaded my net once again I suppose that’s just fishing for you, you can’t decide which fish takes your bait and I had a blinding few months on DuPont’s pool.
I made some good really good friends and reacquainted myself with some old ones too. Maybe one day I’ll go back when all the hype on there dies off. I’m currently getting my teeth into a big old low stock estate lake with a couple of big fish in. despite finding them on my first visit I don’t seem to be able to find them anymore but that’s another story!
Until next time keep at it and keep hauling.
Tight lines
Tony Cope
January 2011
It's a hard life... University lay about and forum regular Rob O'Hagan pens his first piece for NorthWestCarp in a new diary series
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I set Phil’s tackle up first, he used his match rod coupled with a spare reel belonging to me which held 10lb line, I placed a small semi frozen Perch deadbait on the trebles, and the whole set up was attached to a small Orange Pike bung set at two feet deep, this was flicked out as far as it would go, my set up consisted of a second hand 11 foot fibreglass Carp / Pike rod of an unknown make, and my trusty Mitchell 300 reel also loaded with 10lb line, I was fishing with a running ledger rig, a small Roach deadbait was fixed to some trebles and launched as far as it would go, my baits loud splash landing made me wince as the noise of its entry into the Mere disturbed the tranquil atmosphere and caused large ripples to emanate in an ever increasing circle, a small Orange Polystyrene ball indicator about an inch and a half across was clipped onto my mainline with a hair grip which had been pushed into the lightweight ball, the indicator was set between the two bottom rings on a fifteen inch drop.
Within half an hour Phil had a run on his Perch bait, the lake had become very still and the first thing we noticed were a few small ripples spreading out from Phil’s float, as we watched his float, it very gently started to bob more and more causing larger and larger ripples, it then slowly started to submerge before completely disappearing under the surface, Phil stood up to strike but I told him to wait a minute until the line started to move off, thirty seconds later it did just that and his line started to lift upwards off the surface as it tightened to his rod tip, I shouted for him to strike. A full blooded strike caused his rod to arch over in an impressive hoop, this caused the unseen fish to panic and drop the bait, disappointed Phil reeled in his now bare hook trace, and we rebaited and recast his rod. Almost immediately I had a run on my rod and struck hard but the fish felt small and was soon thrashing about in the shallow margins, the Pike was only small and weighed about three pounds but its colours were beautiful and vibrant, it would be a prize when it grew bigger.
Throughout the next couple of hours we had a quite a few mores takes between us, I caught two more small Jacks, the biggest being about five or six pounds, Phil had caught one fish about a pound in weight but unbelievably had had about six or seven runs, but because his rod was designed for float fishing and not Pike fishing it was apparent that his more than robust strike with the flimsy rod wasn’t setting the hooks, which by the way were not the sharpest things in the world anyway. Sometimes we managed to retrieve our deadbait’s but eventually we were left with one tooth ravaged Roach each, it must have been divine intervention when out of nowhere a young lad about eleven years old wandered up to us and asked how we were doing, I told him we had had a few but would be going home soon as we only had one bait each and when that was gone we were going to pack up.
The young lad asked us if we wanted any livebait, confused I asked him if he had been fishing himself and had some in a keepnet, but he said no there will be some in the overflow. Phil and I reeled in our rods and the young lad took hold of our landing net and asked us to follow him, we ended up along the dammed part of the shallows near the right hand bottom corner where the water lapped over the concrete edge, dropped about six or seven feet into a small round pool which in turn flowed into a little stream and through to the Top Pool at Capesthorne. The lad climbed down to the tiny pool and with one circular sweep lifted up about a fifty fish all between four and six inches long, I could not believe my eyes! There were Roach, Perch, Skimmer Bream and Tench all flapping about and thrashing the water into foam. It was like watching a trawling programme; the young lad couldn’t lift the net out of the water so me and Phil jumped down to help him. Between us we picked out about a dozen Roach to use as livebait and let the rest go back to where they had come from, I couldn’t bring myself to use the Tench as Pike bait, they have a mystery about them which compels you to treat them differently to other fish when it comes to baitfishing, the Perch and Skimmers would have been fair game on any other day but a fit shiny Roach would be ideal for a spot of livebaiting, the only trouble being Phil was using the only float we had.
We thanked the young lad and made our way back to our peg with the bait still in the landing net, we rigged up a temporary holding pool by supporting the landing net head out of the water with some twigs so it could be used as a sort of keepnet for the lively Roach. Phil was soon swinging fresh bait out as far as he could and it immediately started swimming erratically towards the other bank, at one point it stopped and swam around in circles for about fifteen minutes, it suddenly stopped and swam quickly towards the far bank towing the Pike bung along with it, something had scared it. I said to Phil that he would probably get a bite soon, as the words left my mouth Phil’s bait was smashed into savagely, the disturbance caused a few of the nearby waterfowl to flee in panic adding to the mayhem. Phil quickly tightened down and struck hard walking backwards as he did so, but his strike met no resistance and he disappointedly reeled in his baitless hooks and started all over again. I had managed to catch another two Pike, the biggest was about seven pounds in weight, but most of the time I was sat there watching Phil casting out and striking at the numerous takes he had during the day, I really felt for him, he had had about twenty runs and had only managed to land the smallest fish of the day which was just a bit bigger than the bait he was using, but to his credit he just laughed about it and was enjoying the fact that he was getting more runs than me.
I had a take which I missed and then reeled in my bare rig, I selected the biggest of our remaining Roach which when you touched it flexed and arched strongly, it was a shame to use it as bait but time for remorse was short lived and it was soon sailing away into the distance, landing with a loud splash, I clipped on the Orange Polystyrene ball which was tied with string to my back rod rest, but after a few minutes it became apparent that the Roach had composed itself after its maiden flight and wanted to be off. Just to make sure it wasn’t a take I gently pulled my line back and felt slight resistance so was satisfied there wasn’t a Pike on the end, this went on for about five minutes and I got fed up with checking it wasn’t a run and resetting my indicator. I decided to reel in the annoying Roach, I tapped it on the head, which stunned it but didn’t kill it, it was then recast to the same area as before and after tightening up, I clipped on my indicator, Bloody Hell! The Roach was still trying to swim off albeit very slowly, I once again went through the retightening, resetting procedure before clipping on my indicator once more.
That seemed to have sorted it, but a minute later the indicator ever so slowly crept upwards, I unclipped the Polystyrene ball and gently pulled the line backwards, it came back easily enough but felt different, like as if there was weed on the line, when I had pulled the line back it hung limply for a few seconds but then started to creep upwards again, I was confused, something was messing with my bait, I opened the bail arm on my Mitchell 300 and sat down with Phil to watch the line, after a minute or so it slowly flicked and moved upwards, I decided to reel it in again but Phil said to leave it for a few more minutes so I did. The line ever so slowly moved forwards and tightened which caused a loop to fall from my spool, as this tightened another loop spilled from the spool, this happened so slowly that it could only be the bait trying to limp off and find some underwater cover.
Suddenly two loops of line flicked off the spool, followed by two more, and then it happened, the line fizzed off the spool as though it had been cast out, and it was literally a blur. Phil as usual stated the obvious “I think it’s a Pike” I stood up, flicked over the bailarm and struck hard, the next sequence of events all seemed to happen in slow motion and was very surreal! As I struck, I saw my line quickly slicing through the water, about forty yards out there was a massive boil and my line suddenly started to travel at speed to my right, you could actually hear it cutting through the oily surface of the Mere. It was very strange experience because although all of this happened in seconds, I can only remember it in a freeze frame type of motion, it was like time had slowed down. As the fish sped towards my right, it suddenly leapt completely out of the water, tailwalking, it shook its head violently, and its mouth wide open, all I could think of was “f**k, that’s massive”. As the giant fish shook its head, I saw the Roach bait spin in an arc through the air and I knew I had lost the monster Pike, as I noticed the Roach flying through the air the tension on my rod eased off, but the instant the Pike re entered the water my rod was almost pulled straight downwards, it was still on!
After that initial burst of power, the fish gave a good account of itself with many slow powerful runs, I could feel it shaking its head in anger and as I played it closer to the bank, great vortexes swirled and eddied just beneath the surface, it then just turned and casually powered off into deeper water once more causing my clutch to go into meltdown. I can honestly say that my legs were shaking; I was expecting that any minute now the line would fall slack and the black despair of a lost big fish would fall down over me and cloak me in misery.
I noticed at this point, that I had an audience, a lad a bit younger than me was standing nearby, and he looked like a professional angler with camouflage jacket, waders and loads of kit, he asked me if I needed any help landing my Pike and produced a landing net so massive it would have engulfed Moby Dick. I gladly took him up on his offer, as my net was tiny in comparison, but it would be another fifteen minutes before I managed to get my prize anywhere near the bank and into a netting position. After what seemed an age, the fish tired and allowed itself to be brought close enough to be netted; it slid through the shallow margins on its side, and was expertly netted by my new found friend.
We lay the fish, which was still in the net onto some soft grass and slowly peeled back the mesh which covered its massive head and muscular flank, it was an amazing sight, the colouring and markings were exquisite, its gills slowly flaring as it tried to regain some strength, it was a prehistoric predator that was living in our modern times, you could literally feel its aura and sense the feral anger that emanated from it, it was truly an awesome creature. I noticed that the bottom treble was lightly hooked at the front of its lower jaw and a quick twist with my forceps freed the metalware from its mouth, another couple of minutes and the hook hold might have given way and I wouldn’t be kneeling there admiring my catch.
The lad, who had kindly landed my fish, set up some scales and zeroed them, whilst Phil produced my mum’s camera, which was a state of the art but rubbish disc type compact camera with only two exposures left on its circular cardboard disc. Phil used up the last two shots with me crouching down holding my catch, its head looked very large and was well adapted for holding onto the large prey that lived in the Mere, but as the title of the book says, the Predator becomes the Prey. The fish was weighed and it pulled the scales around to 21lb 7oz, we then slipped it gently back into its watery home where with a flick of its tail, it glided away and out of sight.
I thanked the lad who had helped us with the fish, he stopped and chatted for a short while, he was staying overnight and was fishing for Carp, but that’s all he would say, I didn’t push it as he was a bit evasive when I asked a few direct questions, Phil and I decided to pack up and head home, we kept the remaining bait for another day. En route home we went over and over the great day we had both enjoyed and planned another day’s predator hunting in the near future. Phil had had more runs than a hospital full of dysentery patients but was mad keen to come fishing with me again. I was on cloud nine; I had caught a fish bigger than anything I could have wished for, in fact looking back it was bigger than the cased fish I had admired at Arrowsmiths tackle shop all those years ago.
Our journey home flew by and I was soon parking the car up outside my house, when I suddenly remembered the uplifted toilet seat that beloved would have noticed by now and winced at the thought of the kitten’s full bowl of milk that I had placed behind the kitchen door, maybe in the cold light of day they weren’t such good ideas!
Teekay.
September 2010