Wednesday 22 September 2010

All Is Calm, or is it?

Yesterday evening saw me making my way down the slug strewn grassy path to the home of The Common, a path I've trod many a time previous and on occassion have slipped on the wet grass almost breaking an ankle, not to mention my rods. I'm happy to report that this time I made the journey to the lake safe and sound.
 A quick look around and once again I felt that the deepwater swim would be my best choice.
 The evening air was warm and still and the lake took on a serene glass-like appearance, I'd never seen it so still and calm. My plan was to fish maggot at range, out in the deeper water, but as I opened the lid of my bucket, I was met with a sweating, smelly mass of wriggling colour, the unexpected heat of the day had adversely affected the only bait I had. I left the lid off and rest the bucket in shallow water to cool them down.
After a while I tried to put some into the large PVA mesh I use to get plenty around the hook, whilst doing so a fellow bailiff strolled into the swim, I was busted, my little secret bait and method was now out, I cursed under my breath. I'm well aware that maggots for Carp isn't new, but I have never seen them used on this lake and was hoping to keep it under wraps.
 Well, it went from bad to worse when the sweating maggots just dissolved the PVA, I had no option but to fish close-in with both rods and catapult the maggots out.
 With both rods set I sat back away from the edge on my bedchair, only to have a very loud Welshman with a resounding baritone voice stroll straight in front of me to the waters edge and bellow, "Have you caught anything mate?" followed in double quick time by his kids. I was blunt in reply and he soon got the message.
 In general, I fish tranquil, peaceful places, it's my escape...this place however is like a drug to me, It disturbs me, it's noisy, there are lots of people and dogs, but I keep going back, The Common drives a craving deep inside me, and there is only one cure.
I could've gone home, but that craving kept me there, into the darkness.
 When I woke at around 2am the lake was so still, as if it had gone solid, no force of nature wanted or dared to break the calm, I watched for around 20 minutes in the fat moon light.....nothing.
 Morning came quick enough, nobody on the lake caught a thing. I'd learnt a few hard lessons again and try to take positives from my failures.
 Lady Sarah arrived with rations,always a welcomed sight and I shared them with a couple of new friends in the sunshine before we left for home.

4 comments:

  1. The number of times I've been fishing tight to a margin sat well back from the edge only to have someone stomp over, stand in front of me and stare down at my float and declare, "You won't get em that close in mate", not any more I won't!

    You might have blanked Gurn but it could be worse, you could have been sat indoors in front of the telly all night. I know which I prefer. Nice write up again.

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  2. Great to see you feeding the wild life Gurn, But i think that Welsh man had more neck than the Swan, How inconsiderate can people be, I think you should collect a few of the slugs from the path, Carp have a likeing for them, Just hook them in what would be the back of the neck with the shank of the hook towards the head, Then you have to split the tail from about half way up the body with your knife, This will nearly allways get you the One-toner, Got to be worth a try,
    Good luck,
    ,,,Paddy,,,

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  3. Each trip is a step closer to the big 'un mate.

    As for loud Welshmen, I always find that a distance stare whilst sharpening a machete works ;-)

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  4. Never loose the craving Gurn, if you do all is lost!

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