The Intrepid Piscator

Redmire - Phone Wars.

2012-01-29T17:22:00.001Z

Redmire Pool.... To many, just the mention of the two words is enough to send them into another world, even another time. I openly admit, the place has me entranced, a love affair that started when I was just a boy. A copy of the Angling Times annual fell open to reveal a black and white photo of Richard Walker holding that most stunning fish, he named 'Ravioli', others named her Clarissa. I have been hooked ever since and have found myself in the most fortunate position to have fished at Redmire for a weekend in each of the last three years, and have had the honour (for that is what it is) to capture two of its residents.
With all this in mind, today is quite a stressful day, it being the day upon which all devotees of this small farm pool, take up their phones and dial one single landline number in the hope that a certain Mr. Bamford will answer in his own affable style and grant access for an allotted time to that paradise on the England/Wales border.
At Gurney Towers the day, that has become known as 'Phone Wars' to regulars, is planned with military precision. Lady Sarah on one landline and me on another. I'm not sure if this doubles or halves our chances of getting through but it is a formula that has worked well up to now.
The whole business is a bind, but seemingly fair and the whole sorry episode is forgotten about when one is at peace on the pool.
Well, once again, I am happy to report that our planning and persistence has paid off. Lady Sarah ,once again coming up trumps and getting through quite early (after fifty minutes) to secure for my party five days in September, which was my preferred choice..I am, as they say,"As 'appy as Larry"...That Lady Sarah has strange and wonderful powers indeed..

'Nothing For A Pair, Not In This Game!'

2012-01-25T22:47:00.000Z

The work party ethos is one of camararderie, of team building. A place for men to bond whilst sloping off and dodging the hard work that the few seem to do each year. Why then did I find myself alone this cool, damp morning with a shovel and a barrow. Fact is, all bailiffs must attend a mandatory pair of work parties. I had already put in one good shift. I'd even tried to save a few trees from the bloke on every syndicate that can use a chainsaw (because it makes him a man). Alas, the trees fell in my absence. On a brighter note, the willow he 'took out' last year 'because it was rotten' has made a miraculous recovery.
I received the text a couple of weeks ago "work party 29th jan plz atend", fact is, I can't "atend". I have a very important task on Sunday, more of which I will divulge next week.
There I am then, cold handed, creaky backed, humping barrow loads of finest CEMEX gravel along the tracks to fill in the ruts and puddles.There's a pair of anglers on the opposite side and I recognise them as regulars as one raises an arm aloft...My toil continued, back and forth with a full load, I questioned my offer to put in a solo shift.
After about 3 hours my body told me that enough was enough...Now it was time for the reward.
I'd brought along a bag of bits, a landing net and The Lucky Strike.
As I strolled round a pair of magpies flew into view, a good omen? I chatted to the anglers,they informed me that they had not caught a fish in six sessions and couldn't believe how they had just switched off.
Oh well, I settled at a nice snaggy swim. there must be Perch or something lurking.

The Lucky Strike, I think I will call her Lucy, looked resplendent, paired up with my trusty wonky handled Speedia. Small waggler, size 20 Drennan hook, single red maggot, pinkies as feed.

I cast out and poured some tea from the flask, no kettle today, I was travelling light. No bites were forthcoming, but as I sat there, contemplating my surroundings, I couldn't help but wonder about the fish that Lucy had landed in a former life, many years ago, and the gentle men at Allcocks who'd cut, planed and glued, I really did get lost in another place for a while. This is the magic of cane, I never wonder or indeed care, who, or what, has built my modern rods, they don't have the same aura..Lucy, however, is alive again.

A while later, a pair of swans paddled into the swim, why do some anglers tend to flap and flail at them? They were most welcome visitors, even if I wasn't sharing my sandwiches. One took quite a shine to Lucy.

I continued to spray a couple of pinkies at regular intervals, hoping for that first magical bob of the float. A pair of green woodpeckers flew into a nearby bush, making a right old noise. I'm not sure if they were a male and female having a row, or two males arguing over territory, but eventually one told the other to 'do one', so it did, swiftly followed by the other. They are quite splendid birds, their garish colour and gangling flight makes them proper characters.

No bites then ? This needed investigating, I had a hunch. I climbed the bank behind me and put on the polaroids. Yep, there they were, two Jack Pike, sitting mid-water in my swim. No Roach or perch here then. I decided to move to the other side of the bush.

Now although I was away from the Pike, I did feel a tad blatant in this swim, the gin clear water allowing maximum visibility to my scaly mates. At this point pair of pheasant clambered through the undergrowth, I was now wondering if the bird population was getting that springtime feeling early.

The two anglers walked past on their way home having not had so much as a bite. I was now alone.

It might now be a good time to tell you that about a week ago I saw three police cars and two vans on the small lane behind the lake. Lady Sarah and I wondered what the fuss was all about. Now I'd mentioned this to my father at the time. It was only this morning, however, whilst kindly dropping me off at the lake, that he told me that a big cat, described as puma-like had been spotted in the vicinity...I WAS NOW ALONE!!

He was driving back this way soon, so after another hour and no fish, I called it a day.

The rod is a dream, I already know she's a goodun, I will have to wait for that special first fish though, because despite seeing a pair of magpies, a pair of anglers, a pair of swans, a pair of pike, a pair of woodpeckers, a pair of pheasants, and doing a pair of work parties. Apparently, you get nothing for a pair in this game!

Oh well, at least I didn't get eaten by a puma.

The Perfect Cuppa ?

2012-01-22T02:29:00.002Z

"Tea is drunk to forget the din of the world."

The elixir of the Englishman, that marvellous pick-me-up, the drink that fuelled an empire. Of course, there is tea , and then there is Tea.
The good Lady Sarah, in her infinite wisdom, knows that ol' Gurn enjoys the finer things in life. I am becoming more and more likely to be taking tea on the bank these days, with either my trusty sidekick Steve or his reliable rival Kelly. With this in mind she has brought me some fine Miles' Ceylon loose tea.
Neatly packaged in its own mini tea chest caddy, well I just cant wait to brew up. I even have a tutorial from His Noble Yates-ness to aid me.....

Many have waxed lyrical about the magical ritual of 'taking' tea....I think my favourite quote is..

"Meanwhile, let us have a sip of tea. The afternoon glow is brightening the bamboos, the fountains are bubbling with delight, the soughing of the pines is heard in our kettle. Let us dream of effervescence, and linger in the beautiful foolishness of things."

Miles Tea and Coffee Merchants

Another Winter Project - Wicker Seat

2012-01-19T07:48:00.002Z

I saw this on eBay a while back and just had to have it. The thought of sitting aside a small willow fringed pool on a balmy summers eve with a glass of finest red in my hand, waiting for a bite. Well it was just too much.
In some quarters they are described as 'canoe chairs' but the portability, compactness and it ability to hold various bits and bobs in that underseat compartment lend it perfectly to piscatorial pursuits.

On the whole it is relatively tidy, so just a general tidy up and application of lotions and potions to wood and leather should suffice. I'll post some pics when it's finished.

Peter Drennan and Bernard Venables

2012-01-16T20:32:00.001Z

I thought I might share with you some details of a touching Christmas card we received in the shop from Peter Drennan.
The front (above) carries a reproduction of this wonderful study of roach.
Inside it says, "Bernard Venables was a great angler and a poetic writer with a rare ability to draw fish. He lived into his 90's and the last time we fished together, I remember him saying:'Your tackle box is better set up, I'll have to sort mine out for next season.' May we all be looking forward at 90 years of age!"
On the back is this fantastic photo of the pair of them.

The text reads..."Bernard Venables and Peter Drennan, circa 1994, examining Bernard's watercolour which is the subject of this years Christmas card."

What a wonderful tribute to the late Bernard Venables this is. An influential gentleman of our pastime he was clearly held in high esteem by his peers.

Allcocks Lucky Strike Restoration..A Winter Project.

2012-01-04T12:16:00.004Z

It would seem that Allcocks had no intention at all of making a classic fishing rod when the Lucky Strike came to the drawing board, rather perhaps, a short handled boys rod.

However, they used quality cane and the tapers just seemed about right for a general purpose rod and the rest is history.

Chris Yates has at least one in his collection and can be seen to use it adeptly in the wonderfully evocative A Passion For Angling. This has perhaps added to the rods mystique and it is now highly prized and sought after by the cane enthusiast.

My rod came into my possession in what can only be described as a dilapidated state, here are some photos of the rod as I received it.

It is my intention to restore this rod, not to the over-restored flamboyant specification we see in some quarters but to a useable 'sympathetic to original' grade, with the slight improvement of agate lined tip and butt rings. This will be my first ever rod refurbishment ( a knackered classic, yep, ol' Gurn's gone in at the deep end ), and I will take you with me on a warts and all journey. I will no doubt make classic beginners errors but hope to take you up to a time when I catch my first ever fish on what will become, hopefully, my most special rod.

The first job in hand was to lay the rod down, section by section, and to mark on paper all of the positions of all the guides, ferrules and intermediate whippings. I used the last length of a near used till roll rescued from the bin at work for this job, laying the roll out trapped beneath a glass at each end, next to the rod , and not forgetting to mark each section (butt, middle,tip) and marking an arrow pointing to tip end on each.

The next task was to remove all the old rings and whippings...

To remove the whipping thread I used a craft knife (scalpel-type). I've seen articles telling that it is best to cut along the thread and pull the whole lot off in one go, this is not the approach I took fearing the possibility of damaging the cane. My chosen method was to nick the thread at the end and unravel taking things very steadily..it worked a treat. It was at this stage that I encountered my first surprise; I know that Allcocks whipped the Lucky Strike in two colourways, early models are all blue and later models yellow tipped with black, and black intermediates, it is, however, not an exact science. Take a look at my photos, I thought that my rod, although an early one, had the yellow and black, that is until I removed them, They are actually blue, the yellow being the degraded varnish. The ferrules seemed to be sound so I left them on, they did however, have some surface corrosion and didn't fit together, this would have to be addressed later.

The next job was to remove the old varnish, I've heard that some people use various stripping potions for this job and that it can be completed quite quickly. I did have some concerns that a stripper might seep into the cane sections and cause de-lamination so I opted for the alternative method of manually scraping it off. I used the back of the craft knife blade for this held against the blank at a right angle. It was much more difficult and time consuming than I had anticipated but I took my time and so far have not had a 'FFS' moment. I was surprised to see that the cane was darker than I thought it would be, I'm guessing that this is a product of heat treatment in the factory. Once the varnish was removed, I used the finest grade sandpaper (not wet & dry) I could find, and smoothed down the whole blank, until it looked like this...

The next thing I tackled was the Allcocks logo, I did smooth the varnish above it by using ultra-fine flour paper and took things VERY slowly. I must admit that I am not sure if it made much difference. Anyway, afterwards I gently cleaned the area with a solution of washing up liquid dabbed gently with cotton wool.

Once everything had dried thoroughly I stabilised the area with a single layer of artist's acrylic varnish...

You will see that the 'o' is missing from 'Allcocks' and a small section of the black oval surround. The intention here is to add the restoration onto the base of varnish and then add another coat...

Here is the logo after restoration, not perfect, but much, much better..I used Faber-Castell Indian ink art pens in gold and black.

I now turned my attention to the brass fittings, I have chosen to leave them in situ and to manually clean them with fine wire wool, once again this is incredibly time consuming. The ferrules were so corroded that they no longer fit together. I knew that one has to be extremely careful with the male ferrule and I believe the preferred method is to use 'Brasso' and elbow grease, I actually opted to use fine wire wool, but took things very slowly and eventually both sets of ferrules gained a nice popping fit.
This what they looked like at this stage........

I now turned my attention to the cork, once again wire wool was employed to clean fifty years worth of grime away.....

At this stage the brass was clean and gleaming, some choose to leave it that way, but originally these fittings and ferrules would have been 'blued', I know this because I had cleaned through this layer.

I obtained a product with the impressive name of Birchwood-Casey Brass Black Metal Finish.....

Apparently, this is some pretty lethal stuff, as you can see from the label !!
I would imagine that the 'bluing' procedure is much easier to do if all the fittings are removed. As I didn't want to do this, it was a case of masking off the cork and cane around the fittings. I then cleaned the brass with white spirit before applying and even coat of the Brass Black with some of Lady Sarah's cotton buds, I then left it to do it's magic for two minutes (even though it said one minute on the label), the fitting was then rinsed under the tap and patted dry with kitchen towel, five minutes later I polished the fitting with tissue paper......this is a very time consuming procedure and I had to repeat it many times to get the desired colour.
The final finish was slightly patchy but I intend to wax the brass fittings after the whipping process to gloss and even the colour...

....and so, onwards to the whippings. The thread I have used is Gudebrod Nylon Royal Blue in grade D, I hope this will be pretty close to the original.

I don't own one of these all singing and dancing whipping stations, so improvised with an old rod-pod that I never use. When whipping the rod I placed a duster over each rest to protect the blank.

....it certainly made life easier even if it is a bit Heath Robinson , as did these two tools, a sharp scalpel and a fly-tiers bobbin, the latter I would suggest is a necessity, almost like having another hand.

I won't go through the in-and-outs of how to whip thread, there are plenty of good tutorials on You-Tube, and as this is the first time I've whipped intermediates all I can say is,"hats off" to anyone who takes on something like a B.James Mk IV.
I gave each whip a dowsing of colour preserver as I went along leaving the tag ends of the intermediates on for this first coat, with two more coats to follow.

You can see here the agate lined butt-ring, this is one of the very few 'improvements' I have decided to make to the original build.
If I'm honest, I hadn't looked forward to whipping the rod, but it was in fact, the only part of the restoration so far that had been easier than I'd anticipated. Sure, I've done the odd repair before, but intermediates on a tip section, never.
The done thing is to reverse the tip section to even up the fifty years worth of 'droop' the section may have accrued. I must admit that the rod is remarkably straight for its age, and this may sound strange, but after much deliberating, waggling and flexing, the rod 'told' me not to do this, so I didn't.
Also, those 'Luckys' whipped in silk or grade A nylon in yellow and black do look lovely, and I understand aesthetics count for much, with some....but, they're not 'right' are they? Well not for me, or my rod anyway, and that's the important thing here, myself and this rod already have a rapport...and so to varnishing.
Everyone has their preferred varnish and each will tell you theirs is the best to use, the list just goes on and on.
In the end I listened to someone who's rods I'd seen and I trusted and opted for Humbrol gloss.....

First, I gave the whippings and intermediates a couple of coats using a fine brush and allowing two days between coats. It is important to turn the rod for the first two hours of the drying process to avoid runs, for the whippings I did this manually propping each section between two equal height objects and turning them 45 degrees by hand every few minutes. This allowed me to do all three sections at the same time.

For the varnishing of the full sections I was lucky enough to blag a rod turner from a friend, I would imagine the job to be far trickier, but still do-able nonetheless, without one.

You can see that the rod is held in position by three bolts forming a chuck. These are tightened to the male ferrule which has been protected with masking tape. The motor turns at a slow even pace and helps to avoid runs in the varnish.

I found the varnish much easier to work with if the whole tin was submersed to three quarters of the way up in warm water...

I did use a very small brush for application though some suggest using ones finger for the job. Each section received three coats, allowing 24 hours between each. I only deemed it necessary to remove any imperfections with very fine sand paper after the second coat.
Having finally varnished each section, the only job left to do was to wax the brassware. Once again I masked everything, then polished all 'blued' brass with Granville Wax Polish.
There you have it then, my first rod refurbishment went remarkably smooth. It is time consuming, it is, at times tedious, but the sense of achievement is fantastic. Let's see some before and afters then..

Before

After

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After

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After

The thing that brings me most satisfaction is the knowledge that this rod has been sitting in a shed for many years, fortune brought it to me, and I have been able to bring it back to life, it will sit on the bankside again, saved from the bonfire and will catch fish again....that pleases me immensely.

I will cherish this rod always, I hope to be able to tell you of our future adventures and tales of our captures. This will start in a few weeks time when the varnish has fully dried.....I can't wait.

Link back to The Traditional Fisherman's Forum....HERE

Seasons Greetings

2011-12-23T08:00:00.004Z

A big thank you to all the readers of this lil' old blog of mine, I appreciate the time you have taken to comment and peruse.

May Christmas bring whatever your heart desires, and the new year bring the fish of your dreams.

A Couple of Snatched Hours

2011-12-22T17:41:00.002Z

Good organisation is not something this 'sometime' traditional angler is noted for, however, having purchased and wrapped presents with time to spare, and having a few extra early days off from the shop, I decided to snatch a few hours on the small river that is just a few minutes walk from my house.

The day has been glorious, weather wise, maybe a bit too bright, but what a lovely way to idle a few hours..I'd dearly love to catch a 3lb Perch from this streamy little river, alas, today would not be the day.

I was happy enough to wile away a few hours dangling a worm, listening to shrieking Green Woodpeckers and tapping Spotted ones, watching the squirrels bounding around and Great Tits eating the dried seed heads of the riverside plants. A spider came out to say 'hello' and sought sanctuary with me away from the birds.

In the distance could be heard holidaying school children shrieking and singing with pre-Christmas excitement, and inadequate dog owners bellowing at disobedient canines. I minded not, happy to be idle for while, fish or no fish the beauty of the winter sunshine not lost on me.

Ten minutes here, ten minutes there a world away from the seething masses of shopping centres.

Amazingly I did catch a fish or two, no record breakers, but seemingly adequate for a couple of hours 'dangling'....a wee little 'footballer'......

I told him to go fetch his Dad, but his parent must've refused the request.
He was followed by a Bream, a fit fish apart from a piece missing from its gill cover, the second fish I've caught from the particular swim with this injury or defect...

My stomach started to rumble and I put my coat on to walk home, just so I didn't have to carry it, I'd sat on it for the duration of this session and hadn't missed it at all.

The Passing Of An Old Friend

2011-11-30T21:37:00.001Z

I found a dead Carp in the margins of the lake whilst fishing last week, it had been dead some time and both tail lobes were missing. At a work party this weekend the fish was removed and confirmed to be the imaginatively named 'Cut-Tail'.
This beautiful old fish seems to have finally succumbed to it's injury, the result of a careless anglers handling some years ago. Infection seems to have slowly destroyed this wonderful creature's tail despite the wound being treated on subsequent captures.
She still remains the biggest Carp I have ever caught and her passing should be a lesson to all who pursue these majestic fish.

That's Fishin'

2011-11-23T19:35:00.007Z

Conditions seemed perfect for a fat Perch today so I set out with my cane Chapman 500 rod, trusty Speedia, Perch bob float, far too many split shot and some pots of worms along with a few gentles. I knew the perfect place to find them too, the marginal shelf of an old sand pit, right next to a gnarly old bush that lays half in and half out of the water.

Dad came too, and Mum, both seemingly getting a taste for this Autumn angling lark.

Two cars in the car park, around twenty pitches on the lake, surely there wouldn't be.....would there?

Yep, Carp angler bivvied up in the intended swim...Hey ho..we strolled past, the path soggy under foot, the sun straining to get above the avenue of trees ahead.

The swim we settled in has by no means the Perch potential of the first choice but we were fishing and all was well in the world.

It could've easily been a September day, Buzzards soared, Robins pinched bait, Carp hurled themselves into the air and Pike prowled the margins.

Having adopted the big hook/massive lobworm approach things were slow, whilst Dad, on the other hand was charming delightful Roach from there homes with abandon on the small hook/double gentle approach, and enjoying it immensely.

Of course the inevitable happened and as the float sailed away I immediately knew that my cane was attached to a spirited Pike...they just love them lobs.

A titanic battle ensued, and just as I tried to gain back some of the 4lb line, the Speedia would spin off beneath my thumb..Dad attended, net in hand and Mum gave a running commentary, after much ado, old Esox was safely in the net, the good old Chapman's blank was easily up to the job.

Well with all this Pike activity, I daresay the Perch weren't getting a look-in, the Carp angler came down and I told him that they'd been my original quarry, he seemed interested at my approach, his eyes going just a little misty at the sight of my rod and reel. The kettle(Steve) was put on and after tea Dad started to get a few of his roach chased by a very feisty Pike. With this in mind he hatched a cunning plan which soon saw the toothy terrorist on the bank.

I did try a bunch of red gentles for a while but only caught small roach. If I'd set my mind that today was going to be a roach day, these beautiful fish would've made it. I did, however, soon revert back to the unsuccessful 'big lob, big Perch' tactic.

...And so it was, that the darkness and cold brought the curtain down on a Perchless day.......As we walked back, we stopped by the Carp anglers swim, the swim I'd intended to fish, after our chat he had set up a makeshift float set-up and had a pack of lobworms in his carryall, he was just returning a 2lb Perch.......oh well, "That's Fishin'".

Message for Mr.Hatt :- Production of a sky blue bobble hat is under way.

Pastures New

2011-11-13T15:53:00.001Z

I received a rather cryptic text message a few days ago, it simply read, 'Do you want some good news?'...a couple of texts later I was offered a place on a syndicate water. I can say without exaggeration that I have been on the waiting list for nearly twenty years.
This Redmire-like lake is a small oasis of tranquility, some may call it paradise. It was certainly fished by Richard Walker and the Taylor brothers, back in the day.
The carp population remains a bit of a mystery but they are definitely there...of course I accepted the offer and today I went to have a little look as I hadn't been there for years.....

I found a few carp in this inlet, which was encouraging, can you see them ? They were in about a foot of water!

Nice.....isn't it?.....and peaceful. I will still have an eye on 'The Common' next year, but I think I will definitely be spending some quality time on this water, especially as the head bailiff is a cane rod freak......I'm glad my Mum knitted that lucky hat.

Banksticks and Stuff

2011-11-07T23:54:00.000Z

I searched all morning yesterday for the perfect stick, you know the one ? We've all used one at some point. That perfect natural rod rest.
You see I want one now for the river as a kind of escape from the stainless steel that accompanies my Carp set-up.
I'm not what people would call a "tackle tart", well some would, but they'd be wrong. The main criteria for my carp gear is that it won't break so stainless suits just fine.
However, for the river, the goalposts(no pun intended) are moved to lightness and portability, which both probably mean the same thing, and if you throw in a bit of stealthy natural camo (no not that realtree stuff for me thanks) then all the better.
I had designs on finding the perfect fallen branch. Fennel would have us believe that hawthorn and yew are the best wood to use and I thought a rummage in some ancient woodland would see me emerge triumphant with the chosen stick held aloft like Excalibur..I didn't happen, my quest was fruitless....but I know that perfect stick is out there somewhere, it shall be mine.
Talking of the river, I'm still waiting for a bit more rain to fall. I have however heard encouraging reports of some large Chub being caught on a local stretch so I daresay it won't be too long before I'm tempted out.
A friend of mine has been having a few nice fish using a bait called Envy. I'm not one to blatantly plug products on this blog but this stuff really seems to be doing the business for him.

Strange really, because I've always thought envy is a terrible thing !!!
Talking of which, may I take this opportunity to congratulate my mate Jack Brown for catching not one, but two 50lb+ carp this week. Unfortunately it seems the talented lad has been taking a peppering from people who have nothing better to do than have a faceless pop at someone from behind their keyboards. Like I said, terrible thing envy.

A Bit Late For These ?

2011-11-06T23:35:00.001Z

This photo was taken today with my phone whilst out on a Sunday morning stroll with Lady Sarah.

A Lucky Strike

2011-11-02T22:08:00.001Z

So a fellow strolls into the shop with an old rod in his hand, I take quick glance and clock the transfer on the butt section."That's an old rod you've got there bud", I say.
"I wondered if you had any rings for it,I know it's in a bit of a state but I'm thinking I might do it up" he replied.
I take another look and say,"No mate we don't sell rings for them, they're a bit more specialised, I know a couple of websites you could try, or you could save yourself the hassle and sell it to me."
I then ask him where he got it from and he explains that it was in a mates shed and he was thinking he'd hang it on a wall or something.
"Yeah, nice, Guides'n'Blanks or Chapmans Blanks mate, that's where you'll get guides for that mate, I could give you Chapmans phone number."...He thought a while..."I'm not really one to use a computer and don't think i'll do mail order....Did you say you'd be interested in buying it ?" he said, "How much would you offer me?"...It was now my turn to think a while, I figured I'd pay a certain sum for it and then halved it thinking he'd barter...I told him the halved amount..He immediately held out his hand as if to say "Bloody hell, show me the money" and the deal was done........and this is the true tale of how old Gurn became the proud owner of an early Gold Oval Label Lucky Strike for less money than the cheapest rod in his shop.

Happy Halloween

2011-10-31T22:47:00.000Z

Pike And Parents

2011-10-27T20:21:00.004+01:00

My father took me piking on the Tring reservoir complex as a child, it's something we both enjoyed immensely. It's no surprise then that around this time of year he suggests a trip out after these beautiful predators.
I'd thrown my mother one of my rather random requests recently. You see I've always hankered after the marvellous 'lucky' bobble hat once worn by Jack Hilton...this one.

After some research and some great help from the fellows on 'The Path By The Water' a photo emerged giving us the colours...

Green and White stripes, white bobble..."Mum, can you knit me a Jack Hilton bobble hat please??"
Bless her, after I had sourced some wool she was straight on the case and here is the fruit of her labour. I am delighted with it.

What better way to try it out then and test its 'luckiness' than a day out with the folks in search of Pike.

The chosen water throws up a challenge, that in view of its Catfish population the use of treble hooks are banned. Wire trace is allowed from October 1st. I therefore made up some single hook rigs with size 2/0 Gold Label Tackle Penetrator hooks. I crimped a loop and ring to the hook for the attachment of bait 'hair rig' style.

This being more a social occasion than a 'specimen hunt' we opted for an easily accessed swim and I soon erected the shelter for the day (you know by now that it always rains when I fish, today was no different) and duly cast a mackerel tail, a smelt, and a roach. The two outer baits to the marginal shelf and the middle rod at range. The parents soon made themselves at home.....

They really seem to embrace the outdoor life. The bailiff seemed quite surprised at the bankside family reunion, but with sandwiches, tea , sausages rolls, more tea, soup etc.. we were warm, dry, fed and happy.

We were even happier when old Esox took a liking for the margin fished roach...

.This fish appeared to have had a scrape with a Catfish at some stage in it life, a scar on its back (near my hand) suggesting it was grabbed in ones vice like pads.

About an hour later my Dad landed a jack on a jelly lure.

This feisty fish was incredibly angry, tail walking and darting around like a lunatic..it definitely had delusions of grandeur.

Dad seemed to take to fishing with a lure really well..In the past he'd used spoons and hard lures but never the modern shad type..He persisted with the lure rod through driving rain in the hope of another take. It's strange how things turn full circle, I put the kettle on and told him tea was forthcoming,"Just another five minutes" was his reply.

Soon it was the turn of the mackerel tail to get chomped and another beautiful Pike was landed....Dad got in on the action with this one.

My father remembered the lake as a working sand pit and was amazed at the transformation into a scenic haven for wildlife, Mum loved to watch the green woodpecker, and hungry flocks of goldfinch and long-tailed tits as they swarmed around the willows.

Soon the mackerel rod was away again and Dad was straight on to it. The fish (photo-held by Mum to follow!!)

was soon subdued and rounded off what to me was a most enjoyable time. Dad and I shared the spoils with two fish each and it can be noted that all three pick-ups on the single-hook rig were landed successfully. I know the folks loved it just as much and I look forward to the next family Pike pursuit.

I also got to christen that hat and it truly was 'lucky'. Thanks Mum and Dad, I had a fine day.

Was Someone Watching Over Me ?

2011-10-15T08:08:00.004+01:00

OK, this is just a bit of fun but does that reflection bear an uncanny resemblance to anybody ??

More Redmire Pool Photos

2011-10-14T08:00:00.007+01:00

Our friends the Swans

The pool from 'Greenbanks'

More Tea ?

Springates Cherry Trees

'In Willow'

The Outflow

Is This The Spot ?

2011-10-12T08:04:00.006+01:00

Redmire Pool 7th to 9th Oct. 2011

2011-10-09T21:48:00.007+01:00

"Having laid out your rods

( you may as well use two while you are about it,

with a different bait on each )

you are at liberty to smoke, meditate, read, and I think, sleep...

You and the rods and the floats gradually grow into the landscape and become part of it.

It is like life in the isle of the lotus."

The build up to a journey to the most fabled of Carp pools, Redmire, is an almost religious experience to me. It is something you get, and embrace fully or do not, and never will.

Just to get a couple of days on the worlds most famous lake is, to me, not only exciting but, an honour.

To tread in the same footsteps as Walker, Hilton, Pitchford, Taylor, Yates, Hutchinson, Maddocks to name, but a few, you can't help but feel their presence, an aura of history having been made. To think, this small farm lake produced the first British 30, 40 and 50 pound Carp and all being different fish from that first Leney stocking...A stock that still has an uncorrupted legacy at the pool, for every one of its inhabitants are related to those original 50 Galicians stocked in March 1934 (NB..since writing this, new information has come to light, and it now appears that there is the possibility that another 49 were stocked a year later).

Part and parcel of a trip to the pool are the many personal traditions, for instance, I always grow a beard. I'd attempted 'The Full Springate' this year, in reality it was more akin to a Redmire era Len Arbery.

There we were then, over the cattle grid, down the drive, turn right, stop at the cottage of the ever effervescent Les Bamford, exchange pleasantries and on through the gate to catch you first glimpse of the water. Down the track, always freewheeled, engine off in the days of The Carp Catchers, alas, modern power steering makes this decidedly dodgy.

Once on the pool itself, after the obligatory circumnavigation, one has the most stressful part of the trip, swim choice...this can take some time, usually deliberating on the bench at the dam wall. We eventually settled for Mick in 'Stumps', Malc in 'Evening Pitch'..he knew it was haunted and embraced it with opened arms. These two being on their first trip had first choice, leaving Tony to choose 'The Stile' and myself 'In Willow'.

It is only once the task of choosing swim and setting up base is completed that you leave all things behind and enter another realm. First things first...tea. The first one always has to be boiled on the Kelly kettle.

Of course, you can't have tea without cake........

The next few hours are spent in an almost meditative state, drinking in the surroundings, the total assault from nature on every sense...You know where you are, but you still can't quite believe it.

The pool now has four Swans, an adult and three large cygnets, we'd heard that many had been having problems with their antics, but we were welcomed by them, it was their home we respected that at all times.

Also on display were the usual coots, mallards and dabchicks ( loveable little birds, who happily scoffed as many maggots as I could give them.)

Tony and I ate in 'Climos' along with a tankard of Wells' Bombardier from my local brewery. The rods were positioned and darkness soon blanketed the pool, although the moon was fat, but not completely full.

I won't lie, it's difficult to sleep, such is the excitement and anticipation, the sound of the owls up in the Oaks makes way to a quietness I have yet to witness anywhere else.....a fish crashes up in the shallows a moorehen shrieks...then dead quiet again. There is no wind, no rippled surface...just peace, eventually one slips into a fragmented sleep.......I really was dreaming of holding one of the lakes prizes, when......a noise, a modern day, electronic noise...my alarms ?....No......my phone..It was dark still !!..The caller was Tony, this could only mean one thing, answering confirmed he did indeed have a fish in the net...I was elated.

I was by his side within 30 seconds as he lifted his prize on to the unhooking mat..a common, his first fish in three visits, he shook with adrenaline, I knew the feeling, immense satisfaction and not a little relief. He was no longer a member of 'The Pitchford Group' and could now call himself a Redmire Carp Catcher.

As he released the fish, he held her a while, as she regained her wits, a special time, as special as the catch, is the release...she waddled off to perhaps fulfil another future Carp angler's ambitions.
We celebrated with tea as the dawn chorus piped up, Twinings of course, if it's good enough for Her Majesty, then it's good enough for us !
Dawn broke at ' In Willow' the swans took a shine to Malc and paid many a visit to 'The Evening Pitch'.

I waited a good few hours before finally relenting to "Full English Breakfast o'clock"....Venison sausages, bacon, eggs etc. and English Breakfast Tea....

Our friend the Swan was soon over to see if we were sharing....

.....we weren't !!

With a full belly, I made off to Bramble Island, just to see if the water in 'The Shallows' had a few carpy visitors, scaling the climbing tree for a better view.

The area seemed fish free, this isn't usually the case, fish are normally active in the area, throwing up huge clouds of the red silt that gives the pool its name. It was decided that in the absence of a morning stalking opportunity that Tony and I would float fish with maggot from 'The DamWall'.

To sit and spend a couple (or three) hours,having seen all the photos of the greats at this very spot was a true pleasure, we weren't chasing fish, just having fun, relaxing, that is the true essence of Redmire.
After three and a half hours without so much as a sucked maggot, of course we put the kettle on and then had something very special, the good Lady Sarah had baked me a "Redmire Cake",we knew it was called that because it said so on the tin!

It was given a huge thumbs up all round and was sniffed out from some distance by Malc who seemed to appreciate the alcoholic content, note that his eyes never left the water as he ate...This will definitely become a new tradition for us.

Time was called and I sneaked up to 'Greenbanks' with a stalking rod baited with two mini boilies, the area was full of Carp which seemed to have quite predictable patrol routes around the weed beds, the water was incredibly coloured and patience was needed to get rig and free offerings in place.

I was truly in tune with my surroundings, laying on the unhooking mat, watching the line for twitches.Many fish in front of me, two twenty pound fish came within four feet of me, it was wonderful and the overwhelming sensation was one of optimism...It was so relaxing that I found myself nodding off. The serenity of the pool at times like this weaves a spell upon you, it is like no other place I know, time passes in the blink of an eye, I had been there a good few blissful hours in which I'd become so part of the surroundings that a squirrel actually walked over my legs before Tony led the search party to see if I'd fallen in or not.
I reeled in and we walked down further towards the shallows, past the Swans.

Arriving at 'Hiltons' we happened upon a resting Carp no more than six feet away..I love the opportunity to view fish behaviour and I said I'd throw some pellet and watch its response.

About ten small pellets were thrown around five feet in front of the fish, it watched them all fall to the bottom and moved forward about a foot, as if to have a little look. It looked for some twenty seconds, pondering the situation, before moving slowly off into the lake with no panic at all....clever fish.

Back at 'In Willow' I was doing a bit of pondering myself..."Should I move to the shallows ?" "Should I stay at the deeper end"...I gave it some serious thought, the fact was , I didn't want to get stressed chasing fish around, I didn't move, 'Piscator non solum Piscatur'.

The Evenings menu was as follows, another tradition....Redmire Rissotto....you will need :-

One can Chilli Con Carne (Stagg)

One can of Minced Beef and Onions

One Can of Irish Stew

Some Boiled Rice

Basically mix the whole lot together and heat slowly in a large pot. The result is incredibly splendid.

This, of course is to be washed down with a nice Claret and followed by Water biscuits and Stilton cheese.

It was around this time that Ricky Richardson, one of the estate owners arrived and he immediately recognised us from a previous visit, an incredibly likeable fellow who, not for the first time, exclaimed that "one should sing to fish if one wishes to meet them"...as darkness fell we had a nightcap of hot chocolate and brandy before singing across the lake to the carp.
I drifted off to sleep my mind buzzing with the days events, a most splendid day, I wanted for nothing. I had lived like a king, I was living the dream.
Then,suddenly, another electronic modern day noise, my alarm?...Oh yes!..single tone, I was having some of that. I leapt out, struck, my heart thumping so hard, I felt 'thud-thud' through the rod then something seemed to give, and all went slack, hook pull??, My whole body sank and I wound in, then 'thud-thud', the fish was indeed still on and now tanking up towards 'Climo's', I played it very softly, knowing that so many fish are lost to hook pulls, and eventually coaxed her slowly but surely towards me, after around ten minutes she was in the net, I had a sneaky peak and couldn't believe my eyes, laying in the net was probably one of the most beautiful fish in the lake, I called Tony, who was soon with me. I didn't want to sack the fish so photo quality was sacrificed for fish safety...What a stunner.

Of course, I never slept a wink all night, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I celebrated with a bottle of Dandelion and Burdock and all was well in the world.

The Sunday morning is always a melancholic affair and I packed up quite early before taking more photos, the lads on the opposite bank had no fish but I think Mick summed it up perfectly.

"I have packed up and left many a lake in my time, but the task has never been so difficult as it was today"

Farewell Redmire...A big thank you to the Richardsons, Les, Rob, Nick and all who work hard to make our dreams a reality.

Huge thanks to Graeme at CarpOn Baits who always comes up trumps.

More pics soon.

Link back for Redmire Forum users

Beard and Wonderful

2011-09-29T16:43:00.002+01:00

"If you love something, set it free.

If it returns it is yours.

If it doesn't, It never was..."

The Sun rose on my final day this year at the home of The Common, she'd outwitted me again, my quest will continue next year, I just can't face the prospect of another blank hard winter on this lake and I have a new target to go for, more of which will follow in time.

The session had been a failure, that is unless I was actively fishing for those green beauties that seem to have been turned suicidal by the current warm spell...Did someone say "Indian Summer?"

The 'late on parade' Dragonflies and Ladybirds certainly thought so.....

I must admit though, that I will not be sad to leave this lake, it is by far the most difficult of places I fish for many different reasons. Many will appear for a few weeks, then never be seen again, foiled by the abundant weed, difficulty to get in swims, dogs, public, 'erberts, not to mention the incredibly cagey Carp.

It is beautiful though and so are its inhabitants. Unfortunately, the swan in the picture is now alone after its mate was viciously attacked by dog whos owner failed to take heed of the signs telling him to keep it under control. The bird was taken to the local rescue centre, by anglers, but unfortunately died a day later

This weather can't really disguise the changing of seasons, the crackling of leaves underfoot a giveaway. It's a nice time to be on the bank though, fish or no fish. There's a lot to be said for a cuppa under the stars, looking over a lake, in anticipation.

Talking of anticipation, my next trip out will be to that most fabled of pools Redmire, for my yearly trip...Regular readers will know of my traditional beard growing exploits at this time, in homage to the greats that once trod the banks of this wonderful little estate lake.
I have to say that I have excelled all expectations this year, it will most definitely be the last time I complete this hideous undertaking as it just drives me insane.
In conclusion then I might just raise a glass at the dam wall and exclaim...."Yates, James, McDonald, Arbery and Springate, I salute your angling capabilities, and admire your whiskered persistence"

A Tonkin' Fish

2011-09-14T18:36:00.005+01:00

As cars go by I cast my mind's eye

Over back packs on roof racks

Beyond the horizon

Where dream makers

Working white plastic processors

Invite the unwary

To reach for the pie in the sky

Go fishing my boy !

Today, I had pretentions of catching myself a fine Perch from my local river with cane and pin..I didn't., but, I did have a splendid couple of nostalgic hours.

My Chapmans 500 lissom wand of cane does not have the correct rings on it. My old Speedia centrepin, rescued from someones shed when seized up and neglected, now runs free and long. It does, however, have a wonky handle. I find these imperfections endearing and they have far more character than my modern gear.

What better tools then for a couple of snatched hours on the river ?

Not today, the mackerel'd skies of yesterday after the wind had blown, instead, blue and clear, though the winds had left their mark.

I hoped that the Crack Willows had completed all the cracking they had to do this week!

The walk to the river from my front door took exactly seven minutes, it acts as a boundary between town and country, on one side a factory with noisy fork-lifts and lorries, on the other a protected water meadow.

Having tackled up with a small drilled bullet and large Lobworm I nestled myself amongst the invasive and alien Himalayan Balsam, it's a plant that the rangers around here have an ongoing battle against, I actually quite like it, and so do the Bees.....and I like Bees, a lot.

The first marginal cast is usually a hint to the way things pan out on this little haven...nothing happened.

I was soon distracted by a Treecreeper searching out grubs and insects from a tree on the opposite bank, then, a Great Tit gave a 'Tweet Tweet' from a higher limb...Still the rod stayed static.

On a short river session I will stay in an unproductive swim no longer than fifteen minutes., so I was soon on my way.

The next little pool I visited had me sitting a little too precarious for my liking, on the opposite bank I could clearly see pram-faced teenagers pushing their offspring and elderly couples on matching disability scooters, but they didn't spot me.

A knock, yes, a definite knock, then again....strike....a perfect Chublet, so small that the worm really was longer. The river does need at least another foot on it for decent Perch action, only, I just couldn't wait any longer.

Moving on then, the bridge, surely a stripey marauder lurks here.

In the fifteen fishless minutes I sat in this swim,ten people crossed its span, only one stopped to look and stare, a small child hanging from her Mother's hand waved at me as her parent hurried on thinking about food shopping and the electricity bill. It would seem that many have lost that youthful awe at ones natural surroundings, I'm happy to not count myself amongst them, how else would I have noticed my friend the Kingfisher as he shot past at speed along the winding flow.

As the sun shone through the willows, I saw my final swim in a different light, it had previously seemed unassuming, but now became an interesting place to sit, even though I was now on the factory side by the the path and had received a least one glance from a passer-by that seemed to say, 'What's that weirdy beardy up to ? There's no fish in there.'

Then, just when I thought it wouldn't, the tip juddered around, I struck to solid resistance, and a fight ensued that led me to believe I'd hooked that elusive three pound Perch, for they do live here.

It was not a Perch though, it was a right old character of a Bream, battle scarred, it had clearly been in a few scrapes in its time, a few chunks missing from its tail, maybe a narrow escape from an Otter.

He certainly fought like a fish that knew how to survive, and as I returned him I felt happy to end the day right there, not wanting to cast again, so I strolled the short way home and back to present day life, happy with my lot.

Autumn....already ?

2011-09-07T15:20:00.005+01:00

As I walked , or rather slid across the rickety bridge ( I know it's a death trap, yet it still gets me.) I found a coin, picked it up, then tossed it in as an offering to the Carp Gods.
I avoided the rain, setting up my camp for the next few days on ground sodden from the previous hours deluge, a close shave.
I was back then, in my favourite September swim, just one other angler on this difficult lake, a cacophony of waterbirds greeted..Tufties, Mallard, Swans and the usual Gulls, they all came to see what I'd feed them, all left empty beaked (until I baited the swim).
Kingfisher yelled and completed a welcoming flypast and Buzzard circled overhead keeping one eye on proceedings and another on the shrews that danced in excitement around my bag of bait.

The wind grew ever strong and disease ridden Sycamore leaves fell upon my shelter, from the burnished heights.

The Hawthorns bursting with berries make a fine feast for the hungry birds.

Alas, their leaves too are losing green, turning through yellow to copper. It all seems a little Autumnal.

As night drew in I found myself drifting in and out of sleep, sudden heavy showers causing the trees to drip upon my abode, then at around 1am, a run, left rod flying.

The lake is very weedy and the fish rapidly pung the line upon it, sending heartstopping vibrations through the rod to my hands,powerful surges led me to believe it a 'biggun', had I lost her I'd have guessed her much bigger, she wasn't a 'biggun' though. Gracing my net was an absolutely stunning linear Mirror then, just under 20lb with a great paddle for a tail. It was a true treat to see her glide slowly back to the depths.

My poor night photography will never do a fish like this justice but I'd rather that than juggling a fish and a camera for a self take trophy shot in the night, when it's not really necessary.

Morning then, and the almost religious rite that is tea.

The wind grew stronger and a bow had formed in the line of my left rod. I switched the alarm off to make adjustments.

All amendments made, I took a cuppa to Ian in the next swim and chatted a while.

On return to my rods I noticed the left one was arced around and the bobbin was bouncing away as line was being taken. I'd forgotten to switch my alarm back on and had another fish on. It turned out to be a Tench of around 5lb, a morning treat.

The following day rolled along with visitors, tea, biscuits, alas no cake.

The wind slowly but surely wound itself up and the Poplars swayed further and further. Leaves continued to fall upon my bivvy rendering it a little more 'Realtree' than usual.

As darkess fell and I at last had the lake to myself, a deluge, yes, Old Izaac's curse had caught up with me again and I was confined to barracks.
At around midnight I stumble out to a run which produced an incredibly pretty Mirror Carp and a welcome golden glow.

I slept little and by daybreak the wind and rain had worsened.

No more dancing Shrews, no more noisy Kingfishers, just the howl of the wind and the disparaging Ducks.
James, a shop customer, and good fellow arrived, I put Steve, the kettle, on. We both agreed that the Carp would've moved with the wind, I didn't want to move, but would if necessary. Fortunately, about 10 minutes after he left a large Carp leapt at range in front of my swim, I was easily convinced to stay-put.
Whilst confined to the bivvy, I finished reading "How To Fish" by Chris Yates and have to say, it's one of his finest works and has re-ignited my desire to catch a fat Perch this season, maybe next week !

The last night was uneventful, the fish had indeed moved on, as I packed away the sky began to show traces of blue,and the aphids, ladybirds and other bugs that sought refuge from the elements with me, finally returned home, as did I.

I'll have one more attempt to catch 'The Common' this year, before moving to another lake and the rivers for winter.

Jack Brown plays........

2011-08-28T12:01:00.000+01:00

A Wizard Fish

2011-08-22T13:36:00.007+01:00

We generally have a few old characters coming in to the shop, and we are always entertained by their regular fishy stories. One fellow in particular is renowned for his mispronunciation of words, for instance... he has a Dwaia rod with a Shimani reel, and the rod has a dodgy furrel.

Well he's told us today that he hooked a Sturgeon (Sterlet ?) at a commercial fishery at the weekend and when he gave it some pressure it leapt from the water like a "Merlin".....I wonder if the lake was anywhere near Camelot !!!

So Many Waters, So Little Time.

2011-08-17T15:46:00.001+01:00

It's been a while, I know, there are periods when you should be waterside, conditions are correct and you just know where they'll be and what will catch them. The 'stuff' of life gets in the way sometimes. We get bogged down with the flotsam and jetsam of day to day demands and the work just has to be put in.
I'm lucky in many respect to have access to as much fishing as one Intrepid Piscator could dream of, alas,I am what a quirky American might call "time deprived". I really haven't been on the banks nearly as much as I would wish, so what have I to say for myself ?
Firstly, my quest for the Common will continue and I've booked some time away from the shop to have a couple of sessions soon. I have also been given kind permission to fish some more at the 'Dog Bone' lake. Also, In early October I will be priveleged to once more cast a line into the mysterious depths of that fabled pool..Redmire.
Carp seem to have devoured my angling life this year, I will be field testing a new bait for 'Browns Angling' in the cooler months and my winter fishing will be on a CEMEX run lake in pursuit of another stunning fish.
I have rejoined my river syndicate and will try my hand at extracting a pb Perch sometime....time, oh time.
I did manage a cheeky midweek overnighter, only my second night this year on the particular lake.
As I rolled up to what I'd foolishly hoped would be an empty Car Park, my first feeling was one of disappointment.....two other anglers on the lake.
I had a quick scout around, not stopping for chat, eyes peeled for signs.
Fortunately both anglers were comfortable with the wind behind them in their oversized bivvies probably watching DVD's or sleeping, to notice me....or the fish that were topping in an area on the other side of the lake. "That'll do for old Gurn, I thought" and I dropped a bucket in the swim as a 'claim'.
Whilst walking away I heard a lage Carp crash and turning around saw a flat spot out in the lake, "That's one rod sorted", I thought, and walked a bit faster to get the gear.

First things first then, set up the rods and cast one to the spot and another to a plateau at aroung 60 yards, I was fishing and no-one even knew I was there.
I sat and watched the lake for around forty minutes and the area in front of me definitely had a few Carp present. I may have even seen the biggest Carp in the lake come out right in front of the swim, a fish I had caught last year.
The bailiff showed up seeming a little perplexed at the ramshackle state of my swim.
I explained that the rods just had to go out immediately and everything else had just been dumped in the swim pending setting up .
I pointed to the area I'd baited on the left rod and exclaimed that if I didn't catch a fish off of it I'd hang my rods up and go into angling retirement. He laughed and just a he did so, a Carp rolled on the very spot. He wished me luck as he left me to continue to set up base.

Once sorted, I entered the time honoured ritual and 'Steve' the kettle was stuck on the Primus as I sat back and drunk in the sounds and sights that are my escape from the 'stuff'.
Night fell and I was suprised I'd not received a pick-up yet, in fact I had to wait until 11pm for that left hand Stevie Neville to burst into a song and shatter the silent aire of the lake.
Up and at it then, I felt that satifying 'thump thump' that only a fish hooked at range gives as I struck into it.
It is one of my favourite things, to be stood alone doing battle with a Carp, and you're the only one that knows.
With little drama a fine Mirror of over 20lb graced the net..

One quick snap and he was soon on his way.

As I sat awake, watching over the lake I counted no less than twenty Carp topping, a couple of hours later the same rod was away and and once again I struck into resistance, this fish felt more dogged and determined to stay deep, unfortunately after about a minute the line fell slack, I'd been cut off, "Mussels, damned Mussels"...what can you do about them.

That was to be my last action of the night, at least I didn't have to retire !!

As the morning progressed and I hauled my kit back to the Car Park, one of the fellas from the other side of the lake came over.." I can't believe how quiet it was last night " he said.

Amazing Underwater Pike Footage (No Hooks)

2011-07-10T19:40:00.002+01:00

Chris Yates Interview

2011-07-06T21:44:00.000+01:00

I have no idea how long this link will remain valid, so enjoy it whilst you can.
Chilly Interviews Yatesy.

The Nearly Man

2011-07-05T20:02:00.001+01:00

Ok, so with "The Common" having been caught I've been tempted away from 'Her' home. What fish could possibly drag me away then ?..Well how about another "needle in a haystack Common".
By kind permission of Alan Taylor, a trip to a private lake reputed to hold a Common Carp somewhat larger than the one I persue.
Joining me on the trip was young Nash consultant Jack Brown, a fine young Carp angler and work colleague.
The lake is around six acres in size, shaped like a dogs bone with two main 'lakes' joined by a channel with an average depth of ten feet.
The shape of the lake presents obvious location problems especially when you consider that the stock level is just eight 'original' fish and 20 to 30 Dintons stockies.
We set out in the boats checking the lake bed for features with prodding sticks, however, an algae bloom made using an aquascope ( a modern version of a glass bottomed bucket ) a waste of time with visibility about a foot.

With such a low stocking density, we baited lightly with hemp, pellet and groundbait, just little traps really on spots we thought may hold fish.

The sunshine was brutal, the air muggy and it made for an uncomfortable time, especially as it isn't condusive to catching Carp. We thought we may see then basking in the mid-day sun, we did see one of the stockies, no mad dogs though, just two Englishmen.

The lake appeared to be a veritable paradise for wildlife, not least the various species of Butterflies. I've been a fan of these most beautiful of insects since I once saw a Swallowtail on the Norfolk Broads. The predominent species on this lake seemed to be the Marbled White but I did manage to creep up on this Red Admiral.

Also spotted were the other fishermen...Grebe, Heron and Kingfisher. The Kingfisher's perch being quite close, he would plunge headlong into the depths, emerge with a fish and then dive for another before returning to his vantage point with a brace.

The area also appears to be 'Snake Central' with many Grass Snakes and an Adder spotted, the latter certainly made one think twice before putting a hand in a bag or walking through the grass.

In the evenings, the bucket barbeque was fired up and we enjoyed a fillet steak or two with some local Bombadier Ale and maybe a tot of Brandy, all very civilised, of course. This became a precursor to an hour or two of nonsensical chat, all good fun.

After two fishless nights at one end of the 'Dog bone' I decided to have a sneaky peek down the other end. The 'other end' is silty, reed fringed and has only one proper pitch. A noisy Rookery greeted me and three Comorants sat on the rotting bows of a dead tree, looking a little like those Vultures in Disney's Jungle book as if saying, "So what are we going to do?".."I dunno,what are we gonna do?".

I immediately saw signs of a feeding Carp with bubbles sheeting up in the water and boiling of the water...I went back for a rod.

I found my lightest lead, set up a bottom rig with two grains of maize and a 'plastic fantastic' for balance, tied up a couple of PVA bags with micro pellets and on seeing the fish vacate the area cast the whole lot from the middle of a bush before sitting back on my bucket.

About half an hour later the fish returned to the spot, it was only a matter of time before my rod cranked round, I thought.

As my heart pounded in expectation, for a moment I became lost in a world of old hungry Commons and wet nets, a world of peace and solitude, away from the howling masses.

"Aah so you found my secret swim" came the unmistakeable voice of the bailiff swiftly follow by a good licking from a couple of German Shepherds, closely followed the bailiff coming in to the bush, closely followed by Jack.

Back to reality it was then, I never caught the fish but suggested to Jack that the whole Carp population were at this end of the lake as I had also seen another whilst in the bush.

The plan then was to watch this end for an hour and if we saw another Carp 'top' we'd move down....Ten minutes later, a golden head and shoulders popped up to say "Hello"...time to move...in the heat of the day, it wasn't a joyous hour but had to be done.

We decided that using Chod rigs and not using a boat would cause minimum disturbance, we didn't want to spook the fish back to where we had previously been and the use of Chods meant we'd be presenting a bait wherever it landed without the need for thrashing the lake to a foam with Marker Rods.

After another blank night, Jack left to fulfill an appearance with the Nash guys in Belgium, with hopes of a little bit of fishing time on the Kempish Canal.

I did stick it out for another night.....

A hot air balloon passed above, as the passengers peered down at me, waving, I read the logo on the side of the massive fire breathing beast.....GO....it said. I got the message.

There are two footnotes to this account..1) It is worth noting that from the time we cast a lead in to the 'other end', to the time I left, not a single Carp was seen.

2) I have heard today that the big Common of this lake was actually caught last night, the first time this year...its weight ?.....45lb !!!

Once again, I am 'the nearly man'.

I am left to thank Alan Taylor for allowing me the pleasure of persuing his wonderful fish. His website can be found here.

The Common....caught!!

2011-06-19T10:43:00.000+01:00

At 08:28:01 yesterday morning I received the following text message.. "She's been out this morning", I knew exactly that it meant that the Common had graced the net of some fortunate sole for the first time in nearly a year.
It transpired that it was the anglers first ever fish from the water, caught on a bait and rig probably intended for Catfish. The weight of the fish is also somewhat sketchy, the magic number followed by "in the weigh-sling".
The irony of it all has not been lost on many anglers who persue this fish but in many ways I am happy and indeed I even shook the captors hand in the shop yesterday. It is good to know that the fish is still there in the lake (we know fish are moved illegally on occassion), but most of all it was the words of a witness that resounded in my head for most of yesterday...."She is the most beautiful and impressive fish I have ever seen"...I will take a couple of weeks break from the lake, but, the quest will continue.

The Glorious Sixteenth

2011-06-16T21:57:00.005+01:00

At a work party on my river syndicate last week a member (no, not me) unceremoniously decended a tree whilst attempting to trim a branch, somewhat faster than he had climbed it..if you get what I mean.
Far from receiving the sympathy and concern of his fellows, he was met with raptures of laughter and applause.
The syndicate leader, a chap of deadpan, dry wit was grateful, "Thanks for that my old mate " he said, "You have entertained us greatly and for that we will name that swim in you honour." The poor chap seemed to cheer up on hearing this, only for the syndicate leader to shoot him down again with, "There you go then members, this here is now "The C*** Swim"...To more raptures of laughter.
Oh how it would've been a delight to spend the opening night/day on that glorious river The Gt. Ouse, it was not to be.
My quest continues with abandon at the home of 'The Common' but in the last few weeks a veritable festival of Tench has descended upon me, not such a bad thing I hear you say but the pleasure is curtailed by the heavy tackle I am using due to weed and the possibility of monstrous Catfish.
The weather seems to go from the sublime........

to the ridiculous...........

and all in a days fishing.
The "Glorious Sixteenth" found me then, near a public path, beside the park lake that is 'Her' home. You know the kind of place...where men go to shout at their dogs, or get shouted at by personal trainers.
Visitors arrived at my side at a constant flow as I attempted to set up my home for the night. Some were welcome, my parents, on the look-out for a Kingfisher (which did turn up about twenty minutes after their departure), some were unwelcome, the gossip-mongers, ready to stab a fellow piscator in the back at the earliest convenience, I'll have no part in that.
Darkness fell and the Bats, at first seemed reluctant, there don't seem to be as many mosquitoes about for them this year...yet.
They soon put on a fine display of aero'bat'ics, I do love the little critters.
Conditions have changed on the lake bed and I had decided to try different rigs to my usual, and as if to sign in the new official season, at midnight exactly my right rod was away resulting in quite an impressive Tench and probably the biggest from the lake this year, the lack of sporting battle and lack of a decent photo dictates that it would be pointless to say its weight, but, it was BIG.
With the rig and bait back on the spot I soon drifted off to sleep dreaming of early season Barbel and Chub, how I miss them.
At 2am the same rod leapt into life with what can only be described as a tanking run. I struck and the rod arched over, I could feel the fish thumping around, a long way out in the lake.
Constant pressure soon had the fish heading in the right direction and after about 10 minutes the fish was in the net, a stunning Mirror, not a stockie, but one of the characters, these fish aren't huge but I believe they have age and guile, I was happy.

By 4am the lake was alive with 'boshing' fish, many were Carp, perhaps the Lunar Eclipse had cast some unseen spell on them, I just new that I'd get a run and sure enough I was in again.
This time the battle was a more dogged affair, until about fifteen minutes in everything went solid.
I know the routine well, give constant but not heavy pressure for a while, it wasn't budging...Put the rod back on the rest for as long as takes for the fish to find it own way free,, an hour later and no movement...Last resort, straight line, walk backwards slowly, the fish started to move and the fight was back on.
After another ten minutes or so a Mirror of 20lb+ was thudding around in the margins, as I guided her to the net she seemed to look at me knowingly, the hook pulled and she waved me 'Goodbye'.
All in all an eventful night which has helped in taking my mind off of that river for a while yet.
I packed away and headed home a content fisher.

Busy, busy, busy

2011-06-12T17:23:00.001+01:00

It's that time of the year, isn't it ? In a piscatorial sense it seems like it's all going on at the moment. My quest for the Common still continues in earnest and the lake is beginning to get fished more, the Carp are spawning and once it's done and dusted I am sure they will get on the munch a bit more. The lakes Catfish population is once again giving itself up to anglers using certain baits and methods in a kamikaze fashion, they really don't seem to be the brightest of fish, needless to say, I will be avoiding said baits and methods in my focussed escapade.
Ticket renewals have also been the order of the day. I've renewed both my Club and syndicate on my beloved Gt. Ouse and hope to engage in a few more sessions this year in search of it's ever dwindling Barbel and maybe even a fat Chub or Perch.
I have also secured yet another weekend on the fabled Redmire Pool in early Autumn, something I always look forward to. I will have to look up our infamous 'Redmire Rissotto' recipe again.. My plan this year will be to fish an unpopular swim in the hope that the residents will feed with a bit less suspicion there, and maybe even try to winkle one 'off the top'.
I am still bailiffing for two clubs this year, it's a thankless task and difficult to fit in around my work but has its obvious benefits.
The new Nash PegOne barrow had its first outing the other night and I will write a full review after a bit more use.
I am still fully committed to catching that Common but have a few alternative adventures lined up to keep me sane.
The shop is incredibly busy but I'm due a few days off fishing at the end of the month.
For all of you getting out on the 16th, Good Luck and tight Lines.

Where's Gurn Gone ???

2011-06-10T13:41:00.000+01:00

Hello Folks....The quest continues, I've gone undercover for a little while but will return soon...;-)

A Pause For Thought.

2011-05-17T12:52:00.002+01:00

If I'm honest, the last couple of sessions in my quest have been uneventful, I've been experimenting with rigs and not keeping to the path I know will eventually land my prize, we all do it, things don't click and we stray from the path. The fact that I have new rods also guarantees a couple of blanks.
There have been a few un-fishy highlights though, the good Lady did pack me the best food parcel on the lake, much to the delight ( and a tad of jealousy me thinks ) of my angling mates.

It's also that time of year when dawn arrives with atmospheric photogenic mists..

With the rise in temperature, so comes the bug life magically emerging and thriving, the Dragonfly lava crawling from their watery abode to cast off their aquatic attire and fly free, as if touched by some miraculous power..the power of nature.

I'll be back on the bank soon enough, but have been away on a break in the delightful county of Dorset.

The Cerne Giant seemed pleased to see us !!!

Durdle Door is a place I've always been keen to visit and it didn't disappoint, it is a truly breathtaking wonder of nature, if a bit of a mission to visit.

Onwards to the National Trust owned village of Corfe with its majestic ruined Castle atop the hill.

A fine time was had and it was nice to relax in the evening overlooking Weymouth Bay.
Now back to the angling...........

Old and New, Green and Blue

2011-04-28T22:01:00.000+01:00

This post finds ol' Gurn having to do a bit of the old 'backstroke', yep, just a couple of months ago I posted that I wouldn't be following the masses and using a barrow for transportation of my carping kit...Oh dear, then, as this week saw me acquire a brand spanking new Nash PegOne Barrow.

I am now officially old in my eyes having succombed to using the mind instead of the muscle, common sense has prevailed and I think this model will be ideal for the overnighters I generally do these days. I will let you know how it performs.

Also new in the Gurn armoury this week is a new set of rods, I won't say that I've upgraded, my old Greys' have done me proud and I've caught the fish of my dreams on them. I have, however, purchased a set of three Century FBS rods. I have bought them with one eye on a future venue, but also feel they will cope better with the "nuisance" Wels Catfish I will inevitably encounter this year. Once again, I'll let you know how they perform.

What then of the fishing ? Well my quest continued along with the company of Lady Sarah. We opted for my old, cold-weather swim, not the good Lady's ideal choice, being as it was, facing into the cold North Easterly that seems to have sneaked back in through the back door. I thought some fish may have followed it though and the plan was to set all three baits no more than twenty feet from the bank.

The bivvy went up...eventually, thanks to having another pair of hands to help, bless her.

There really hasn't been many catches on the lake to give me any guidance, I generally follow my own path anyway.

Two on pop-ups, one on bottom bait, a small scattering of my mainstay boilies as freebies this week.

The swim is one of the more secluded on the lake but unfortunately the fellow who had walked an entire lap of the lake, chatting on his mobile so loudly that he actually probably didn't need the phone (his mate would've still heard him) decided, as I knew he would, to come blundering straight towards us. I strolled towards him, behind the bivvy, in a way that polite anglers do, so's not to enable him to walk into the swim and make himself comfortable, even then he felt the need to yell at me for 15 minutes before continuing on his loud route around the lake.

As the darkness fell, our only other vistors were my old mates, the bats. Lady Sarah looked on, amazed at there twilight antics..a special time.

As we bedded down, listening to the wind outside, I wondered how many more nights lay ahead in my quest, will it end, will I catch Her ?

2 a.m. and my right rod is away, I'm on the rod quickly and strike, a plucky fight, but this is no Carp...or indeed Cat, a fine Tench came to the net. I was joined out in the cool night air by Lady Sarah, bless her, she was still half asleep, answering "Ey ?", "What ?", "Pardon", to everything I said to her. It's a strange thing but I've never really been in a fish catching situation at night with someone who doesn't instinctively know what to do, you know, get the net, sling, mat, forceps. All these things are what fellow piscators immediately do. I apologised later to her for being abrupt when this didn't happen.

She's a fine partner, great company...alas, I fear she'll never make a good photographer !!!

Dawn broke to two welcome sounds, the high pitched call and bright blue flash of the Kingfisher and the first audible sign of the cuckoo this year.

The wind still blew hard and cold as we packed away, The Common, is still uncaught this year.

Caption Competition Winner

2011-04-22T12:29:00.001+01:00

The winner this time is Dave Burr .
It was a close run thing this time but I thought Dave's to be the cleverest.
Well done fella, I don't think I have your address anymore, so if you could send it to my email I will forward your prize sir.
You can also read Dave's fine blog by clicking on the link, on his name above.

Warm Night.

2011-04-21T16:27:00.000+01:00

Well I've got into this little routine, you see. I do a bit of pre-baiting the night before, then fish the area with just a handful of free offerings, it gives me confidence and I can stroll down the little track laden with gear in the knowledge that I've put some effort in and any capture will have been earned.
Oh dear though, last night, having been through this routine, imagine my horror when said swim contains a rather too grinny angler.
Yep, you know it, the sun is shining and I look around the lake that I generally have to myself to find 1,2,3,4,5,6....SIX other anglers, my solitude is over now until probably October.
Not only do I have to make alternative, second choice swim arrangements, but now have to contend with visitors with empty mugs in their hands and listen to the always fantastic rumours and gossip that this lake generates regularly and quickly.
Of course, all this, is part and parcel of fishing this particular lake, a lake visited by people from all over the country and it was good to catch up with some of the old-schoolers.
With the coming of sunshine and more pressure on the lake, pre-baiting becomes, in reality, a waste of time.
In the past I've had people move to fish over my bait within an hour of me leaving the lake. These things you have to take on the chin, just one more of the challenges my quest for 'The Common' holds.
As well as anglers, we also now have many other park users, they are generally well behaved and leave us alone, there are the odd few that don't think the park rules apply to them or their dogs though, all good fun and more stories along those lines to come as the Summer unfolds, I'm sure.
Also, the wildlife...just where do all them frogs come from ?? I also spotted a Mink, Then there's the bugs and what can only be described as a "mahoosive" spider in my bivvy this morning.
The ground-dwelling creatures don't bother me that much, it's the bloody mozzie's that I hate, so the twilight feeding frenzy of the local bat population was enjoyable for more than one reason.
I saw signs of fish movement, but nobody caught.
One thing can be said though,'It's certainly warming up'.

Should've Gone To The AGM

2011-04-13T15:52:00.000+01:00

To be honest, as a club bailiff I should've really been at the AGM. Instead, I saw the opportunity to fish the lake, I was the only one on the lake again.
I'm starting to get back in tune with the lake now and felt quite confident having caught on my previous two trips and having baited the swim the night before. I've had some of the boilies I use made in black and it has proved successful in stopping the birdlife diving down and guzzling them, they just don't seem to be able to see them.
Unfortunately, neither did the fish on this trip. I did however spend a very relaxed evening listening to the local bell ringers practicing in the distance at dusk with this as my view.

Speaking of the Old Guard

2011-04-11T08:16:00.002+01:00

Some of this blogs traditional angling viewers will be interested to see the above photo, reproduced here with the kind permission of the photographer and respected angler Shaun Harrison.
The cased Carp was caught on 24 July from Mapperley Reservoir by Albert Buckley at 26lb a British record at the time.
Albert had witnessed anglers being smashed up on lighter Roach tackle by Carp and set out to catch one,
On Saturday July 19th Albert was at Mapperley to fish specifically for Carp, his first took 55 minutes to land and weighed 16lb. After weighing at the nearby keepers house Albert went back fishing and within ten minutes caught a 14lber.

Albert returned to the lake on Thursday 24th July and this was his account....

On July 24th I got four carp and two Roach, the carp were 9lb, 11lb, 15lb and 26lb, the Roach were 2lb 12oz and 3lb 6oz. I caught them all on bread paste mixed with honey.

This fish was possibly much heavier and lost a large amount of blood before weighing, having been gaffed upon capture as was the norm in those days. It was to be the last record Carp before the Redmire era.

The case sat for many years in the fine angling shop Walkers of Trowell where I believe I actually once viewed it. Then, one day a member of the Buckley family walked in and claimed it back, never to be seen again !

A Penny's Worth ?

2011-04-10T09:02:00.001+01:00

A chap walks up to the counter at the shop with a headtorch, I scan the barcode and the computerised cash register shows £ 7.00.
The transaction followed thus...........
"That's £ 7.00 please sir"
"No it isn't, it's cheaper than that on the tag on the show model"
"Oh, sir, perhaps there has been a mistake"
His manner changed and he stomped the full length of the shop to collect the price tag on display.
He strolled back with a victorious look, exclaiming "There see, I was right"
I looked at the tag .... £6.99.
"I'm so sorry sir, the computer seems to have rounded it up to £7, of course I will amend the price down, would you like a bag sir ?"
"Yes please"
"That'll be a penny sir," I said, with tongue firmly in cheek.

Old's Cool

2011-04-08T22:15:00.000+01:00

'In Pursuit of Carp and Catfish' a book that had a profound effect on me as an angler. It made me aware of the wonders of the Wels, specimen Carp fishing and also inspired my love of Redmire Pool. Kevin Maddocks was a huge influence on my angling direction. Unlike Yates he never painted pictures with his written word but had a way of conveying big fish angling in perhaps a more workmanlike way and love him or hate him he certainly knew how to catch Carp.
It amazes me sometimes when I speak to todays mass media flooded Carpers. Many don't know of the man who brought us the first modern Carping bible, Carp Fever. The man who along with Lennie Middleton developed the Hair Rig. The man who brought us the first adjustable level Bedchair.

The man, who along with the legend that is Alan Taylor pioneered French fishing at places like Orient, Chantecoq and others.

What then has become of the old school, what are they up to ? Well they're still out there doing it, without the hype of the modern era. Alan was in the shop this week, he and Kevin have just returned from a successful trip to the famous Rainbow Lake. Still doing it, still catching 'Whackers' along with the likes of Rob Hales and Martin Locke.

It seems that the old guard are still really ahead of game, still keeping it real, without the need to tell everyone about it and plug the latest product, long may it continue.

Am I Losing My Way ?

2011-04-07T22:30:00.000+01:00

OK, hands up, I admit it, for the foreseeable future I am what them that may scoff would call a 'fish chaser'. I've been lured in, for me it has become a personal quest against a single fish. As I sat alone on the lake this week, those questions appeared in my mind.."What if She didn't survive the winter".."What if She's been stolen".."What the #### am I doing here, searching for a single fish, when it's difficult enough to extract any of the residents of this lake"..Are these the musings of an obssessive ?
Of course, as a rule I take great joy at all of my captures from the smallest Gudgeon, I wonder at them all and feel priveledged with every capture, but something this week has troubled me....I'll set the scene..
The night was warm, I was back on the lake, back on my own, I've continued to bait up the area of my last capture with my mainstay boilies and succeeded in placing three hookbaits within an area about the size of a football pitch with an average depth of twelve feet.
I lay in the bivvy watching the shadows of Rabbits and Mice against my bivvy as Spurs were unceremoniously battered in the ether of my tiny (quiet) radio.
Like countless times before I stared out to the lake wondering where at that precise moment She might be.
The ripples on the water of the ever gathering frogs played with the light of the nearby football pitch floodlights as loud groaning goods trains trundled by in the distance. All too familiar scenes and sounds, in many ways I long to be rid of them, for my quest to end, sooner, rather than later. She keeps me going back. I drifted into slumber.
At approximately 3am, a bleep, right hand rod, then another, the bobbin twitched and a slow ponderous take occurred. Strolling out to the rod, shoes on this time, the run had become steady and I struck. This one pulled back a bit and kept deep, it felt a good fish, you know the type ?, a plodder.
The fish took line, a lot, and my heart started to beat faster. This is the time I think about knots, hook holds and line strength, I retrieved a little line, but it took it all back and then some. The fight went on, maybe fifteen minutes in reality, it seemed like more.
At this time I allowed myself the luxury of considering that I might be attached to a rather large Carp, which could actually be The Common.
The fish started to tire and slowly, carefully, I lulled it towards me until it was close enough to think about getting the net.
I switched on the headtorch to see what delight lay before me.....My heart dropped, the only emotion I honestly felt was...disappointment. There in the clear margins lay Silurus Glanis, the Wels Catfish. It simply hadn't crossed my mind that this fish would not be a large Carp, it's take and fight, along with the time of year pointed towards Carp.

I have, in the past dedicated much time in pursuit of these strange and interesting creatures and have caught them to well over 100lb ( and not in the Ebro either .) I loved that time and built up a lot of respect for the fish that Kevin Maddocks described as "The Neglected Giant".
I am slightly disturbed at my apparent distain for the capture, so I ask you out there..Piscatorially speaking, Am I losing my way ?

Lady Luck ?

2011-03-30T20:51:00.002+01:00

I was joined for a night on the lake by Lady Sarah this week, she has often brought with her a little bit of angling luck and is always welcome.
I sloped off from the shop an hour early and we loaded everything in to the car with no drama. "Will we need any money ?" I enquired,"Not unless someone is coming around the lake tonight selling raffle tickets" was her witty retort...I left the cash at home.
I'd visited the lake the night previous, there are a few anglers starting to get out on it now and I blagged a cuppa before putting two kilos of bait on an unfished (by me) spot with the throwing stick.
I considered that a tweek of the rigs and starting to use my warm weather bait, along with the Good Lady for company might bring a change in luck.
Lady Sarah sat in the evening sun whilst I set up the bigger of my two bivvies, furnishing the inside with our bedchairs and sleeping bags, she'd bought enough food to last us a week and a bottle of wine, we were sorted.
Setting off around the lake with a view to parking the car in a safer place now that our home for the night was made, I was amazed to find that some idiot had taken one of the lifebuoys from its red plastic station and tied it to a nearby bush, a group of 'erberts sat upon a nearby bench, I just gave them 'the look' before returning the buoy to its home, which incidentally looks like it may also be home to a family of Blue Tits quite soon, judging by the presence of a new looking nest inside the plastic housing, a small hole on the casing looked barely big enough for a bird to pass through.
As I returned to my swim a fellow piscator (one of three of us) approached and gobsmacked me by saying that he read and enjoyed the blog, cheers fella.
Back at the swim it was time to get fishing....
It was at this time that the age old problem of getting a cast from a tight swim with a bivvy behind me arose. There was nothing to it, I'd have to take my shoes and socks off, roll up the trousers and wade out. The water is still cold, very cold, but three baits went out on the baited area just fine and were followed by another kilo of bait.

As darkness fell the clouds gathered and a few drops of rain started to fall but the faithful shelter of ours was snug and secure, we drank a couple of glasses of wine and chatted into the night before our eyes became heavy.
The now familiar sounds of night on the lake affected Lady Sarah's sleep more than mine, at least it wasn't my snoring this time !
Time passed, my eyes opened, it was light, fishless again, I looked over to the good Lady, awake. We exchanged morning pleasantries when, BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP, a single toner, I bumbled to get out of the bivvy door, ignoring my strategically placed shoes, out into the cold morning air and into the muddy ground to the rod, its reel still whirring...I struck...contact.
The fight was spirited, the fish had run a long way and definitely knew where the weed beds were, fortunately so did I and it was light enough to see what was on the fishes mind, I steered it away, taking line as it kited to the right. Eventually it came into sight, a common, not 'The Common' but the first common to be caught on the lake this year, and on my mainstay bait for this coming summer, a result.
Once netted and on the bank the fish continued its fight, I've never had a fish struggle so much to escape a net, especially after such a scrap. I decided on one quick snap, you can see I am poised for it to flap, I sensed its muscles tensing as I held it but am glad to report it was returned none the worse and fighting fit.

I was also able to sport for the first time my British Specimen Anglers hat. Check out their site for all things fishy.
Lady Sarah had once again brought me some luck, and even her photographic skills are getting better....I just wished someone had come around selling raffle tickets, her face would've been a picture.

Caption Competition

2011-03-26T08:08:00.001Z

This months photo (above) was kindly suggested by Brian of Pikeblog . Cheers Brian. Please write your captions in the comments section, they always make me and the Good Lady smile. This months prize will be a pack of Fox Leadcore. The winner will be announced on or around the 20th April. Good Luck.

Spring in the Air ?

2011-03-24T14:05:00.001Z

Back in the swim again, I'd managed a couple of pre-baiting trips since the last time I'd fished. I'm not sure if these offerings are being picked up but it makes me feel like I'm doing something positive on a lake where the Carp simply don't seem to be having it at the moment.

It's just so nice to be setting up in daylight knowing that next week we'll also have that welcome extra hour, my old fishing buddy Brian would've described conditions as "an overcoat warmer".
As darkness fell it is strange to me just how noisy tranquility can be, once more I was the only angler, a Frenchman seemed to be having a rather loud phonecall on the other side of the lake,completely oblivious to my presence, the sound of eager footballers at a nearby floodlit pitch, the cheer of a goal, a factory alarm, distant car horns, the hoot of my friend the Owl and the drone of aircraft.
Morning came all too soon, the obligatory blank imminent.
I watched the Coots collecting twigs for their nests, the pair of Swans claiming territory, sending another pair packing, their wings making that 'whoop whoop' noise as they flew off over my bivvy, the early morning tap of the Greater Spotted Woodpecker and the cackling call of his Green relative.
The Ducks squabbled as they usually do, directly over my baits.
As a solitary Magpie flew over the swim as if to mark the fact that I was to be fishless again, I wound in and went for a stroll to scatter some bait about.

Green shoots, Blue Tits feeding on the willow, Sunshine and blue skies.

It seems to me that Spring is truly, at last, in the air.

So, what of "The Common"......well, she's eluded me again, but there will always be another day.

Caption Competition Winner

2011-03-15T14:07:00.000Z

This months winner is "Patrick"...Well done mate. Send me your details and I will get the prize off to you.

Don't Mess With Berty Bailiff

2011-03-12T20:56:00.000Z

Yes, it's that time of year again when seasoned anglers don protective gloves and slope off to trim a few hedges whilst the newbies do the hard work. A time when any fella with a chainsaw will cut a tree down whether it's rotten or not.
On my syndicate water it's just us bailiffs that do the work. Fences were built, swims were manicured. I decided to jump in the boat for a bit of light pruning whilst a small amount of chainsaw carnage ensued.

Of course work does get done, but it's always a good social and the Tea and Bacon rolls taste so much better having achieved something.

On the subject of bailiffs.........

A well known angler walked into the shop the other day and recounted the following..

"I was fishing from a point and was in two minds as to which side to fish from so set up for two rods on either side, I was only allowed to fish three rods so had one alarm free in case I should change my mind.(Honest guv, I wasn't just about to set up another rod).

At about this time Berty bailiff arrives, "You can't use four rods" he spouts."I'm not", was the reply "but you've got four alarms there pal".."Is that against the rules then?"

The bailiff pondered for a while"No, that's not against the rules, but if I come down here at 2:00 tomorrow morning, are you telling me that there will not be a rod sat on that alarm?" ..The reply came swiftly"If you come strolling around a lake at 2am you should be careful pal, cos I've heard that some night anglers carry baseball bats or knives for protection!!"....The bailiff checked his ticket and departed.

About half an hour later the rozzers turned up stating that they'd had a report of a water bailiff being threatened with a knife.

The fellow rummaged around into his tackle box and pulled out a small penknife with a 2" blade, which apparently had a snapped end where he'd used it as a screwdriver.

"You'd better take this lethal weapon from me officers, I might do some harm"...One of the policemen looked at the weapon and said, "Hmmm I feel this may have been blown out of proportion mate" and after a thorough search for other weaponry departed.

The angler told me he felt quite smug about getting one up on an overzealous bailiff.............that is, until a letter arrived on his doormat a week later stating that he'd been banned from the club for a year for "threatening a bailiff".

A Rest Is As Good As A Change!

2011-03-10T16:37:00.000Z

Many things have conspired towards my absence from fishing for a while, my ongoing aural problems after a perforated eardrum meant my balance wasn't so great, not ideal if you are fishing alone at night. Also, we are currently in the stages of opening another shop, busy times and then there is the good Lady, to be honest she'd have no problem with me angling at any time, but it is nice to spend time with her. I suppose, I'd probably be fishing for Chub or Barbel on the rivers or Roach on my syndicate water in a normal year. I've blocked those thoughts out, kept the focus, in my quest for The Common, I'm back at her home.
The Good Lady Sarah had dropped me off after the usual after-work dash and I set out once again over the muddy terrain, laden like a Himalayan Sherpa, still no barrow.
I arrived to find that once again I was the only angler present, no-one else cares much for my solitary pursuit, no-one else cares to pursue my prize at this time of year, the peace and tranquility of early Carping never lasts, I make the most of it while I can.
I've recently acquired quite a lot of new kit with my quest in mind, firstly a new bivvy. One that suits the trek and my usual overnighters,Trakker's Pioneer Ultralite. Its ability to be erected in quick-time a bonus.
Darkness came faster than expected, I needed to re-rig all three rods, Two with maggots fished Mag-Aligner style and one fished Snowman style.
The "Snowman" is my take anywhere rig and has accounted for the vast majority of my Carp captures, this is what mine looks like.

I use a Nash leader (leadcore is banned on the water) and Atomic Nobbler leads, these leads are great, they're supposed to be used for 'The Method' but I use them because they are aerodynamic, they don't look like other leads and I can tie PVA stocking full of goodies to them via the hole and nick the hook in the bottom. This is a Carp's eye view of the rig.

Setting up the rigs unnerved me slightly, it is not wise on this lake to draw attention to yourself after dark with ones headtorch, especially if you are alone.
Fortunately all three rods were set in their spots and Steve (the kettle) was soon
singing a happy song.
I watched over the water, just looking for a clue, nothing, after about two hours my eyes became heavy and I jumped into the sleeping bag.
1.00 am, I wake with a start...not a run....footsteps, FOOTSTEPS, behind my bivvy.
For the first ten seconds I felt that someone was going to stick their head in to my open door, friend or foe ?, I thought, but then, when nothing happened I deduced that it must've been a badger, a noisy one at that.Shortly after this incident, as I lay in a half-sleep, I heard a noise that all Carpers love, the splash of a huge fish. I looked out over the lake, the ripples eminating from a spot no more than fifteen metres in front of my swim, I had a dilemma, reposition a bait to this area but risk spooking the fish or leave well alone and hope that this leviathan would search out my bait, I chose the latter.This proved to be the wrong choice, I drifted back to sleep until morning, runless.

I fished on until 11 am, up to this time is often good for a run, but nothing happened.

I wound in and donned the polaroids for a mooch around the lake poking my nose through bushes and throwing a bit of bait onto spots that may come good later in the year.

I also took time to meet up with some old acquaintances, though they seemed more interested in my leftover maggots than me.

After a while the relentless seagulls busted me and I called it a day...Homeward bound, she'd won again.

Caption Competition

2011-02-16T20:38:00.000Z

Hi friends, Here is the photo for this months Caption Competition. Please write your caption in the comments box.

This months prize will be a pair of stainless Solar adjustable rear rod butt rests from my tackle box.. Good Luck
Winner will be announced on 15th March.

Caption Competition Winner

2011-02-15T08:00:00.001Z

Okay my friends, the winner of this months caption competition is.........Tom.
Congratulations mate.
Please send your address to my e-mail and I will get the floats in the post to you.

Phone Wars

2011-01-30T20:46:00.001Z

Today, for me, was one of the most important days of the angling year, for it is on this day that I rose early, made sure I consumed a hearty breakfast, sat myself down with a fully charged phone (plus a spare) and awaited a certain time.
The good Lady Sarah, who has always been an important part of the operation had strategically whisked herself off to her father's home to commandeer his phone.
Why the need for this military mayhem? Well the reason is to obtain an angling date on a farm pool in the heart of Herefordshire, it seems mad really doesn't it? Well, it would be, if that pool wasn't my beloved Redmire.
Every year I read the horror stories and sour grapes that exude from those that haven't been able to secure a spot. It's simple really, "Fail to prepare, Prepare to fail".
Thanks to the magic phone fingers of the good Lady I will once again tread the historic banks in early October, less weed then and the fish will be 'aving it'..perfect.

On a different note, as the weather hasn't been too angler friendly of late I have taken to one of my other passions, painting. Have a look at the shop link if you fancy something cheerful, fishy and inexpensive to put on your walls.

Fishing At Last

2011-01-21T20:58:00.002Z

It seems an age since I was last blessed with time on the bank, the freeze, festive season and illness all conspiring to keep me away from my quest for "The Common".

I knew I had to get out in the relatively warmer weather, not knowing if another freeze is around the corner.

I'd tied rigs the night before even though I'd had more than enough time to do them previously, it's a chore to me, but, of course, a necessary one.

It was dark by the time the wonderful Lady Sarah drove me up to the lake, it is wiser to be dropped off than park a car there overnight.

The gate lock took some mastering, the tumblers in the lock groaning, suffering from the coldest of winters.

With all the gear for the night unloaded, I bid the Lady farewell and set about the task of carrying everything to my chosen swim. Not for me, one of those barrows, oh no, I'm far too stubborn to acquire one of them. I'd much rather put my back under immense pressure and yomp through the slippery mud with all manner of things hanging from every available appendage (well, almost !!), arriving at the swim knackered, although, at least I didn't fall on my arse this time!

I was the only die-hard on the lake, it was mine for the night and even though I'd not cast a line in anger for over a month, I was able to put the bivvy up, set up and cast the rods into known areas and make a brew (with the merest hint of a brandy) with no real drama.

"Oh how nice to be back on the bank", I thought..I could wax lyrical about the lake and paint a romanticised picture, however, the truth is a somewhat different matter. It's an absolute nightmare to fish, with the occassional 'erbert prowling around and pretty much everything stacked against you. I'm sure I'll be writing more on this subject as the year progresses.

As I looked out over a flat calm lake with no sign at all that it contained even a gudgeon, I sensed something behind me. Turning around I was welcomed with the beautiful sight of an owl silhouetted against the moonlight, silently searching out its prey. I wondered how I had been aware of it, I certainly never heard it.

Retiring to the bivvy and making another cuppa I felt as calm as the lake before me, the moonlight, the quietness, it's why we do it really, isn't it..The Owl broke the silence as it hooted from a nearby tree.

This calm was not to last as some time later the obligatory rain started and deluged upon me through the night for many hours waking me from a half sleep. On one occassion I awoke and could clearly hear music, a "rave" I though at first, but no, on closer scrutiny, I came to the conclusion that the tunes were akin to those sung in the film 'The Wicker Man'....I sunk my head into my sleeping bag.

Morning came all to soon, no fish, I hadn't really expected to catch. The cold, the moon, the rain....it was still nice to be out.

A couple of 'friendlies' paid visits during the morning and drank "Steve" (my kettle) dry as the reluctant sun tried to suck up the moisture from my rods and bivvy.

I looked out over the lake, she'd beaten me for another night.

Caption Competition

2011-01-13T19:24:00.002Z

Here then is the caption competition for this month and from now on there will be some weird or wonderful prize for the best caption. This months prize is a selection of handmade (not by me) floats, two fluted trotters and some rather whacky vaned river floats.

Please write your caption (one per person) in the comments section for the following picture and the one I deem best will be the recipient of said prize. The winner will be announced on February 15th, so you have until then to enter. Good Luck.

Back In Business

2011-01-13T19:03:00.000Z

After the big freeze and spending all of Christmas suffering from a perforated eardrum (which saw me spend three hours in A&E on Christmas Day) I am now happy to be returning to some sense of normality. I can't wait to get back on the bank in pursuit of "The Common".

I've pondered that what I'd really like to be doing is getting back to a more traditional form of angling and sometimes I long to get the cane rods back out.....but...I know deep down that I just have to catch this fish. It's under my skin and I'm up for the challenge.

I'd also like to thank the fine fellows at Bedfordshire Specimen Anglers (soon to be British Specimen Anglers), for sending me the rather fetching hat (above). Check out the site, it's well worth a look.

The home of "The Common" at present.

2010-12-27T18:53:00.000Z

As soon as it's liquid I'll be fishing !!!

What Does Santa Do On Boxing Day ?

2010-12-26T08:00:00.001Z

Caption Competition

2010-12-21T20:43:00.000Z

OK, I thought we'd have a bit of festive fun, we'll see how it goes. Here's a photo, all you have to do is make up a caption to go with it. If it goes well I will make it a monthly competition with a prize for the winner in the new year. This time it's just for fun, so write your caption in the comments box.

Highlights Of 2010 & Thoughts For The Coming New Year.

2010-12-13T21:13:00.000Z

Well the lakes are frozen, it's cold and dark, the rivers are full of leaf litter and then of course there's the Christmas shopping. The Intrepid Piscator has not been so 'Intrepid' of late. Yes, I am 'climbing the walls' but the break has given me time to take stock.
I'd never have thought when I started a humble little record of this special pastime of ours back in January that...
a) I'd still be continuing with it in December.
b) That it would have over 10000 hits in under a year.
and most importantly..........
c) There would be the amount of knowledgable, fellow 'piscators' this site would allow me to contact and converse with.
What then have been my highlights of the year in an angling sense? It's difficult to reel off certain situations, angling experiences are so diverse, the biggest fish is not always the most special, each and every capture is a highlight in my eyes.
However, the three captures that stick in my mind from this year are,
"Cut Tail" the inspirationally named Carp at 40lb 3oz

Just looking at the photo of me holding this lovely old Carp and thinking back to the series of events that led to me getting her on the bank still make me smile now. She is a special fish indeed.

Two Huge Roach On The Same Day

It was one of them days when everything you hoped from it, came into fruition. It took me back to childhood dreams and was bloody cold as well !!!

A Redmire Pool Common From The Willow Pitch

My most rewarding catch, not just from this year, but, from my whole angling life. I have dreamt about catching a fish from Redmire Pool since I first read about its existence in an angling annual as a small boy. The size of this fish is totally immaterial and to catch it from the most famous swim in Carp angling was just magical. The pool holds, to this day, all the magic of yesteryear and to hold one of its wonderful residents was a privelege I will never forget.

That's it then, my years highlights...there were of course many more, but what of 2011 ? What plans do I have?
Well, there will hopefully be another Redmire visit and I know that the Roach lake holds bigger specimens, but..............there's that itch I have to scratch, that most wonderful fish, my quest,"The Common". She will be my main quarry next year, as someone once said "Oh, yes..she will be mine."
I also have some special plans for "The Intrepid Piscator"
Thanks for following my endeavours this year my friends, and you're more than welcome to do so next year, as I will yours.

A Lake With Fat Roach & Ice Above Them

2010-12-05T00:22:00.000Z

"He waits; that's what he does.

And I tell you what: tick followed tock followed tick followed tock followed tick...

Ahab says, 'I don't care who you are, here's to your dream.'

The old sailors returned to the bar, 'Here's to you, Ahab!'

And the fat drummer hit the beat with all his heart.

Here's to waiting."

Beauty Amidst The Rat Race

2010-11-18T01:04:00.001Z

Hidden away in our everyday drudgery, there can be found, if one looks, and is at the right place, at the right time, a portal which for a fleeting moment can transport one away from the rat-race to a world of tranquility.

This photograph was taken on my way to work with my phone, it is, believe it or not, in the middle of a town, on the borders of an industrial estate!

The river contains Barbel, Chub, Carp, Perch, Roach, Dace, Gudgeon and Pike.

Why Do We Do It ?

2010-11-11T22:07:00.001Z

The fronds of the Pampas grass swayed delicately in front of a blue sky as I set up for the night on "Pampas Point". However, I was the only person on the lake, I knew the forecast wasn't good but I cannot pick and choose my days and that unseen, unknown force had driven me to go.

The kettle went on and baits went out over an area I'd baited a couple of days previously. A fellow bailiff, Dave, strolled around, walking his dogs. His first words "You must be f****** mad"..I laughed, but when he showed me the projections of the incoming weather on one of them new fangled phone "Apps", well let's just say I considered abandoning the session...The fact is though, that the urge to fish was greater.

As the light faded the air became cold, very cold but as is my way I stood outside the bivvy looking for signs of activity. As my breathe took on that smokey appearance and I was just about to retire for a brew, out in the lake, about a hundred yards away, a Carp crashed. This was good enough for me, I reeled in a rod baited with a Pallatrax 'Jungle' pop-up fished on a Chod rig and cast it towards the area. I nailed the cast exactly to the spot then went for the shelter and relative warmth of the bivvy.

The temperature plummeted over the next hour and a half, so I was surprised when a run came on the Chod rod, the cold air hit me and I couldn't believe that my rods, bivvy and un-hooking mat were now white and icy. I struck and connected to a Carp at range, after a couple of minutes the line went slack and I thought I'd been cut off, I reeled in everything, the hook had pulled. Most fish in this lake are over 20lb, some are much bigger, they don't give themselves up easily, I was gutted.

Back in the bivvy, I made some Hot chocolate with a nip of Brandy to warm myself and retired to the cosiness of my sleeping bag.

At 3 am the temperature was warmer but it was now absolutely chucking it down with rain (surprise!), a deluge of biblical proportions which waterlogged the ground around my shelter forming puddles and creeping upon my groundsheet, this continued on into daylight.

It was then that the gales started......

The ground, was so sodden that the pegs of my only shelter were ripped out and flew in all directions, this wasn't fun. I jumped out to replace pegs, the futility of it all was more than frustrating.

My poor beleagured home was clinging on by its fingernails, at least the sun popped out for a while, the wind still howled upon my exposed position.
I made the decision to start packing away, bad move, for the very second I removed my overwrap, the heavens opened..I cursed the sky in desperation. All that came back was a huge gust of wind that left everything strewn around, getting wet. Dave had actually turned up to fish by now, and laughed later at my disposition and the irony of it all.

I simply threw everything into anything and made my escape.
Let's re-cap then, I'd been alone all night, frozen, sleepless, wet, windswept, all my kit was either sodden or broken and to cap it all, I'd lost a bloody fish.
Why then do we do it ? What is it that drives us to go through such extremes for a fish ?
Rod Hutchinson once described Carp fishing as "An obsession that drives a man from the arms of a good woman."..Is it primal instinct ? Surely not, as that would keep you IN the arms of a good woman.
As I spoke later to the good Lady Sarah I said,"If I ever say to you that I'm going fishing, knowing that the forecast is bad, please, please remind me of this session." She looked at me lovingly and replied, "I will my dear, but.....you will still go."

Did I Really Catch It ?

2010-11-05T20:18:00.004Z

Here's a puzzler for you thinking anglers out there.. A few weeks ago I was told that a fellow had landed, photographed and claimed the capture of a Mirror Carp of 34lb, and had received the plaudits of his peers. What he hadn't disclosed, apparently, was that the fish had been foul-hooked in a pelvic fin. Now, It is true that back in the day (even by The Carp Catchers of Redmire Pool) that a foul-hooked fish was photographed and sometimes even clonked on the head to be set-up in a glass case. These days of course clonking on heads and (in my opinion anyway) counting a foul-hooked fish are both no-no's. The fish hasn't taken a bait, so can't be claimed as being caught.
As I have said, this is just my opinion but I believe most anglers with a sporting ethic would agree.
All this has made me ponder a 'capture' I made many years ago. The fish, a Carp of around 27lb was the biggest fish in the lake and considered a bit of a whacker at the time, in fact it was featured in a very early edition of Carp-Talk.
The thing is, I now wonder if it 'counted'. You see, what happened was as follows....
A screaming run was followed by a hearty strike and a spirited battle, until some 15 minutes later the fish was beaten and laying there ready to be netted by a friend...Now, here's the conjecturous(<- is this a real word!?) bit..As my mate leaned forward to engulf our prize the hook pinged out of its mouth, leaving a somewhat confused fish just hanging there in the water for a second or two which was then, and only then engulfed by the net.
So, my friends......"Did I really Catch It" or Not ?

Autumn Perch

2010-11-04T18:05:00.001Z

Well, the home of the big common was to be my home for a few night/day sessions this month and the lake has recently produced a 34lb Mirror. However, I have heard a whisper that another angler may have lost the big girl at the net recently, so I am going to give the place a wide berth for a couple of weeks. There are a couple of fish I would like to catch in my syndicate water and this particular lake does fish better through the colder months than the home of The Common.
Today though I thought I might walk the five minute journey to my local river, in search of a fat Perch or two.
As usual I was the only angler present until my work colleague Dan turned up to spend a few hours with me.
I settled on a swim I knew would hold a few Perch but left what I thought was a better one for Dan to sit in.

My set-up was a simple affair comprising of a drilled bullet stopped by a Korum Quickstop (fantastic bit of kit) with a longish hooklink to a size 10 hook with a fat worm hung upon it.
The wind howled and the air was a mass of bright yellow falling leaves, very autumnal, but not cold.
The tip soon wrapped around and a stunning 'Footballer' was soon in the net, followed in double quick time by another of around a half of a pound.
I really should fish this little stretch a bit more, to look at it you'd think it barren, but it is home to most species, including, apparently, some maniac Carp. I am happy to sit catching Perch here though, it just seems right to me. Especially as I am aquainted with the staff of a nearby factory canteen who are happy to pass food and hot tea over the fence for me!
The day didn't transpire into one of those halcyon fishing adventures but the fish came steady throughout, no world beaters, just a pleasant day by the river. This one was the biggest, I just put the float next to it for scale.

All the fish I caught were in mint condition, this fellows fins, so bold, they really are lovely fish. He even gave a little wave for the camera.
Dan unfortunately didn't fare so well as I.He wouldn't have a dunk in my swim,where the fish were obviously holed up,stubborn sod, but he is young and has the makings of a fine angler.
I did move to a couple of other swims but to be honest the river needs another foot of water and the leaf litter was an obstacle to good presentation.

As I packed away I was pleased to see a Kingfisher fly the length of the beat, just a couple of inches above the water. They always tear around as if they are late for something...My stomach rumbled, maybe I was late for dinner. I soon set off back past the footbridge in the direction of home.

Fishing 'Tackle'

2010-10-26T21:25:00.000+01:00

I have just been looking through the somewhat difficult to navigate website for Ampthill and District Angling Club.
I was somewhat amused to discover the following photograph in their gallery of last years big freeze.
Tell me, did they really not see the artwork of one of the local 'erberts upon the ice?...haha.

More Redmire Pool Pics

2010-10-21T18:22:00.002+01:00

"In the heat of noonday I have cruised in a punt upon the surface of that small fathomless pool and looked far down among waving weed cables at broad netted backs stirring there in those mysterious depths" 'B.B.' Confessions of a Carp Fisher.(1970)

"Our long vigil had begun.It continued until daybreak, and after. The sun rose deep orange, it's beams making the lake steam. Nothing moved; I was lost in a quiet world of green and grey and gold"..Richard Walker, Walker's Pitch(1959)

Redmire Revisited..A Dream fulfilled.

2010-10-18T20:34:00.003+01:00

It had been around four weeks since I started to grow the now obligatory Redmire beard. I'd aimed at least to have a 'Bob James' but probably just about managed a 'Chris Yates'...Someone had described it as a "stunning appendage" in a 'Carry-On' film manner,which made me chuckle.

There we were then, early again, waiting for time to pass at the end of the farm track, full of anticipation and joking excitedly.

The lads from Carlisle drove out and we listened to every word of their exploits before wishing them "Safe Journey" then driving in ourselves.

Mr. Bamford was..well..Mr.Bamford, he really is one of us and gave us the green light to head on down to the pool.

Parking beneath the gnarly old Oaks we scurried around to the dam like kids running home from school. The sight that befell us was simply stunning. The pool in full glory and gin clear, totally different to the hot chocolate colour and leafless trees of last November, what a difference a month and a half makes.

Walking around is like re-acquainting oneself with an old friend,there's familiarity but also change.

I opted for the 'Willow Pitch', I'd been fishless in 'Stumps' last year and felt that the opposite bank received more sun, which is maybe important as the colder months draw in.

We can all wax lyrical about this pitch and for me it certainly has an aura like no other on the pool..and rightly so.

The Swans payed a visit and a mouthy Kingfisher flew from branch to branch as I set up home for the weekend.

I have said before that I am not really in the camp of 'It's all about being there' and that I truly wanted to catch one of the Carp that swim in this beautiful place..As I sat looking out at the tranquil panorama before me, it struck me, that I was wrong, very wrong. It's not at all just about the fish..it was a watershed moment for me, for the first time I actually got it. I baited the rods, two on boilie, one on maggots. I am not fazed by fishing amonst weed at all...The words of one of the old fellas from my younger days rang in my ears "Where there's weed, there's fish boy"'he'd tell me.

I relaxed, enjoyed, drank it in.

It amazes me just how fast time goes on this little oasis of bliss, away from the rigours of work and town life, night drew in soon enough and chugged on into intense blackness.

The Owls hooted down near 'Stumps' and every now and then a fish would 'Kaboosh' out in the unseen depths.

People that know me will know that I have this somewhat irritating disposition of being rained upon nearly every time I fish, and trust me, I fish a lot. Last year,on the pool, it rained almost continually and in desperation I asked the spirit of old Izaak himself to give me a break.I was met instantly with a clap of thunder, the only one of the weekend and have been cursed ever since.

It was no surprise then that on this night it started to rain on me. After about an hour of rain amplified by the drips from trees I once again pleaded with old Izaak that enough was enough. Incredibly (or coincidentally) the rain stopped almost immediately followed by a savage take on the right hand rod which stopped as the culprit inevitably went headfirst into a weedbed. Looking at the rod I could just make out movement on the tip."I'm having some of that",I thought and struck heartily. With two quick thumps I knew the fish was on and moving, kiting around in front of me. My friend Stewart called out from The Evening Pitch "Are you in bud?".I knew that hooking a fish is only half the battle, many slip the hook and are lost, my heart pounded.I shouldn't have worried, the fish kited straight over my other lines, around the weed beds, down to my left hand side and straight into the waiting net,"In the net", I excitedly replied.

Has I looked down at a stunning little Common which just might be related to Clarrissa, I realised that this was a moment to savour and took a few seconds to contemplate.

Izaak had finally smiled on me, I'd come to realise what fishing at Redmire was all about and I'd been rewarded in the best possible way, a Common from 'The Willow Pitch'. She was carefully sacked for the short while until it was light enough to photograph her.

There I was then...Dick Walker's Hat, Chris Yates' Beard, a Redmire Common from the Willow Pitch, having my photo taken on the Dam Wall...Does it get any better?

Chris Yates may have called my fish a "Scamp"...well let me tell you something. On the way to the pool we had a copy of that fine publication Carp Talk in the car, the front cover was emblazened with a certain Mr.Hamidi holding up a 70lb+ fish from the imaginitively named Gigantica....Would I have swapped my "Scamp" for it? Never in a million years.

The next day was spent in 'Keffords', a beautiful day, the sun beating down upon me and feeding fish in front of me, clouding up the centre of the pool.

It took an eternity for the fish to move away long enough to get a cast and another for them to return, but return they did, six or seven patrolling up and down with just one ducking down to feed at any time,as if he was checking it out for the rest.

I sat there watching bubbles fizz around my bait and the water taking on that red/brown hue but the line stayed still.

Back in the "Willow" my good friend Tony and I spent the evening drinking Claret and eating "Redmire Risotto" talking about those that had come before and the joy this place brings to those that know. Long may it continue.

The night, to be honest was a fine nights sleep followed by an early morning dash across the dam, that Risotto!!!

What a stunning morning on Redmire though.

I knew I had to leave, I didn't want to go, but I'd fulfilled an ambition of 30 years. I'll be back on the phone in January and as for the beard? Next year it's the full 'Springate'.

Thanks to all that make it possible for us to fish at Redmire and to Mr. Taylor of CarpOn Baits for producing the bait that made my dreams come true.

_________________

2010-10-15T07:26:00.002+01:00

Special Lake, Special Times

2010-10-10T21:59:00.000+01:00

A New Rod

2010-10-04T19:00:00.002+01:00

Have just taken delivery of a new (old) fishing rod, the first fibreglass rod I've owned since childhood...Not sure if it'll be any good for the Grayling trotting I bought it for but I think it was a bargain for a Hardy Rod(Conquest 13ft) and seems quite useable so I will give it a go.

I've Been Away

2010-10-02T21:17:00.002+01:00

I've been on a break with Lady Sarah to one of my favourite places to be, Brixham in Devon.There was no time to cast a rod but here are some edited highlights of the trip for those that may be interested.

I did venture into a shop or two...

We ate well.......

Drank well.....

Made friends..

Admired the views....

Underground..........

Er undersea..........

And I swear I could've caught one of these....

All Is Calm, or is it?

2010-09-22T20:03:00.000+01:00

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.

Another Night, Another Fish

2010-09-20T18:36:00.000+01:00

Saturday evening saw me doing the usual tearing about like a lunatic to get to the lake after a full day in the shop. For once I hadn't forgotten anything important and was able to get back in the deep water swim that produced my previous fish. I'd heard rumours of The Common being spotted in a different part of the lake, but thought that the pressure of weekend anglers would move Her to deeper quieter areas.

As I unfurled my large unhooking mat an rather large spider appeared and ran straight over the back of my hand, I'm not a fan of the eight legged horrors and felt quite sure it was wearing four pairs of Skee-Tex boots, such was its size! I shuddered and hushered it well into the undergrowth.
After my relative success on maggots in the week I decided that both rods would be fished Mag-Aligner style, one on the spot I'd taken the Mirror and the other a little closer to the bank but deep enough to keep the ravenous bird-life at bay.
I love the simplicity of this rig and it also panders to the purist in me slightly, not having that 'Creation of the Devil himself''.....a hair ( I like them really ).

It began to rain and I retired to my shelter, no bivvy this time, no Lady Sarah, I lay on the bedchair, looking out over the lake, "That Common is out there somewhere",I thought. I watched well into darkness, not once did I see a sign of a Carp and eventually drifted to sleep, trying my hardest not to think where that spider might be.

At 2am I woke with a start, as if something had happened and woke me up, there was nothing untoward and I looked out onto the lake. In the distance I saw a biggun poke its front end out, as if nature had sent me a little clue. The rest of the night proved uneventful, so, it came as a shock when at 6am, my right rod (the close one) was away, another blazing single toner, the fish seem truly shocked to be hooked on natural food...With none of the drama of my previous outing the fish quickly came to the waiting net, a fine mirror, one of about fifteen 'stockies' introduced about three years ago.

Another result on the maggots then, it must surely only be a matter of time before they trip up one of the big girls, who knows,maybe The Common, she is out there somewhere.

A Fish, At Last

2010-09-15T22:15:00.003+01:00

Monday night saw me back on the lake that is home to The Common, it was grey and windy. I like to fish in these conditions as they are perfect for Carp and it also tends to keep the 'fair weather' angler at bay, thus leaving more choice of pitch and less angler pressure.
I was fortunate to have a companion for the nights proceedings, that being the good Lady Sarah.
On arrival at the lake I was pleased to find only one other ardent piscator present, another carp angler with just one fish on his mind.
I decided to fish on the back of the wind in deeper water and as Lady Sarah re-parked the car in a safer area I set about erecting the bivvy and setting up rods. The lake throws up many challenges, not least vehicle security and I have had my car broken into twice previously as I indulged in my quest.
Having suffered a baren spell fishing with boilies(as are the other anglers) I decided that the fish may be dining on their natural larder. With this in mind I set up one of my two rods on a maggot rig , this being Rob Maylins simple but effective Mag-Aligner rig. I'm not a fan of those metal clips and Rob's rig seems much less fussy.
Fishing maggots for Carp on this lake was a trip into the unknown for me, not less because of the numerous other species that inhabit the lake, including some rather large Tench, Bream and Crucians. All very nice of course but we must remember that on this lake I am targetting one specific fish.
I cast both rods to areas I new were weed free (another of the lakes challenges) and wait, tentatively a while to see if the maggots would be savaged by all sorts of 'ne'er do well's'. It didn't happen and night fell.
Lady Sarah seemed quite pleased with her new bedchair and sleeping bag and it was nice to have her share my 'special time'. She had seen the weather forecast, it wasn't great. "Welcome to my world", I said.
We chatted until our eyes became heavy and we both fell soundly asleep. OK, in the morning she did say I snored a bit, but yes we were both in deep slumber when at 1-00am my left alarm sang at it loudest monotone voice into the cool night air. The maggot rod was away. It was such a surprise that I tipped my bedchair trying to exit the sleeping bag, but was soon on the rod and looking up at a satisfying bend.
The fish took line, going far out in the lake, Sarah emerged bleary eyed and a tad excited as I retreived some line back. The fish had spirit though and was off again, then, in open water, everything went solid.
This is the worst scenario for me, do I give it 'the old heave-ho' or place the rod back on the rest and let the fish find its own way out of the snag?.(no boats allowed on this water)....I decided on the latter..there then followed around forty minutes of uncertainty as I tried to work out what to do next. The fish wasn't moving...I got my kit off!!!
Entering a lake in the hours of darkness is a stupid thing to do, I know that, but I was not alone,I also know this lake extremely well and was only wading a little way out. I would NEVER swim out for a fish.
The water was cold, I knew the margins were shallow and manoevred myself to try to get a better angle on the fish, it stayed solid,stubbornly refusing to move and as I made my way back to the swim and my clothing, I wondered if the fish was even still attached.
After more deliberation and about an hour after the run I decided on the 'straight line,rod pointing at the fish and walking backwards slowly' tactic, which always holds the risk of line breakage or lead hurtling towards you at some velocity. As I walked back, I whinced, when suddenly..... I felt the line slacken, the fish surfaced and the fight was back on.
A few minutes later I was bringing a nice Mirror carp over the net and Lady Sarah raised it to engulf our prize. The fish was the only action of the night, I did have two massive Bream at first light, I wonder if this suggests they are better sight feeders than Carp. The whole episode has given me much food for thought and I will definitely persist with natural baits, though I did also have an aborted run on the boilies at first light.
Anyway, here is the fine creature we landed, and another piece in the jigsaw that is, my quest for The Common........and it didn't rain either...wahey!!!

The Spirit Of Redmire

2010-09-14T17:28:00.000+01:00

It's a very rare occurrence that I publish a photo not taken by myself but I'm sure you'll agree that the picture below captures the spirit of all we hold dear in this wonderful pursuit of ours.
It is with the generous permission of fellow Redmire Pool forumite "dick moss" that I am able to bring you this fantastic image of a Redmire Common leaping from the depths of the fabled pool. He describes the scene as follows.
"I was fishing from the 4th to the 8th of August, two days after the 25th anniversary of Dick Walkers death, when Les (Bamford) asked us about re-naming 'The Willow Pitch' (Walker's Pitch), it was so obvious, and with all hands up it became 'Walker's Pitch'....I was the first person fish the pitch under this name and the photo was taken there"

Great story and a great photograph.

Back Where I Need To Be

2010-09-12T16:40:00.001+01:00

Another day dawns on a lake, a lake that has seen witness to many a finer angler than I...I can conjour up names like Walker, Taylor, Hilton and Maddocks. A lake, that had it not been for pollution in the 1960's would be one of the foremost Carp lakes in the country, a water of legendary fish sadly now past.
Except, some of those fish were strong, a handful, probably Leney strain survived the pollution and are still swimming around. A very small group of old stagers, wise, canny and beautiful,
The Common is possibly one of these fish, it is immaculate and rarely graces the banks. The first time I saw a photo of Her I knew I had to try to catch Her.
So here I am again, on a hard to fish venue, at the wrong end of the year, embarking on yet another campaign for Her. If ever I have earned a fish, it is this amazing creature, yet She eludes me and makes me yearn for Her more.
I am currently using two rods although I'm allowed three and using boilies as bait..I've done my homework and am confident my set-up and bait is capable of being picked up by Her. Landing Her is a different matter, the lake is full of weed and line cutting Mussels. I lost a large fish last year when my line just went slack as the beast took flight over the razor sharp blighters, I was gutted.
The evening started with the usual chat to the regulars and then onto various tweeks and fine tuning of my rigs.
Darkness closed in and I entertained myself by feeding the many bats with small pieces of sausage roll which I threw into the night air for them to acrobaticly swoop and catch.
Having bedded down, the lake became silent, except for the distant traffic and train sound, I was soon asleep.
The next sound I heard was the town church clock toll three o'clock, then a large fish crash out in the darkness sending ripples some seconds later towards my twin rods.
Six o'clock and I hear "Excuse me mate, can you take a photo of this for me?"..The chap had caught a stock fish, around 24lb and had traipsed it in the weighsling to my swim, I berated him for doing so, but took his photos and returned to the sleeping bag, turning to take the above photos.
Onto daylight then and the bobbins were still where I'd set them, she'd eluded me for another day.

Evolution and Obssession

2010-09-08T21:31:00.005+01:00

Here is a picture taken by myself last week on my mobile phone of a beautiful Sumatran Tiger in the dark depths of Chessington. In its natural habitat it is an elusive and majestic beast. Possibly one of the most beautiful creatures we have the pleasure of sharing this wonderful planet with.

There is something deep inside of me that draws me towards these and other elusive creatures, with this in mind I embarked on a quest, a quest that was to cover five years, and, after much expense, travelling, sickness and determination I was blessed to view Bengal Tigers in the wild in the Jungles of India, in the very area which inspired Kipling to write "Jungle Book".
What then does this have to do with fishing? "Has ol' Gurn gone all 'Attenborough' on us?",I hear you say.
Well theres a fish, you see....a fish that has been in my thoughts for many years now. It is beautiful and also elusive. I may confess that this entire journal of my angling activities is a distraction, I may even go as far to say that all of my other angling is a distraction, a distraction from thinking about this fish.
This creature is a Carp,a Common Carp, a scale perfect, deep chestnut,woodcarving of a fish, possibly of the Leney strain.
I have spent more hours trying to catch it than any other fish and have failed,.
Some have happened to associate a name to her, she is however, far too grand in my eyes for that.
What have I to do then? I have caught some wonderful fish this year but my mind returns to this fish time after time, like an itch I have to scratch. Catching her, and holding her aloft would be like coming across a beautiful Tigress in the early morning haze of an Indian Summer. It's a quest then, all other plans go out of the window although I may have to embark on other fishy pursuits to aid my sanity. I hope you will come along for the ride.

Another thing that Tiger made me ponder was the golfer with the same name. There was a time many years ago, when, if you were an fisherman of some skill and could provide food for your family you were high in the social pecking order, a good catch, an alpha male even, and therefore very attractive to the opposite sex.
It seems that nowadays though, if you are a good angler, you have the adoration of many men and if you are serious about your pursuit of fish, perhaps skint most of the time.
However, should you be able to whack a dimply white ball in a hole adeptly, then it's cash and women aplenty.....strange world !!

Lure Of The Secret Lake

2010-08-22T21:27:00.001+01:00

As is the way with most untouched tranquil pools, there is an aire of the unknown, a mysticism. I have no idea what lurks in the weedy depths of "The Secret Lake" other than a few snippets of information reluctantly extracted from anglers who have spent time here some years back...The question I ask is "Are the fine, scaley, wood carving like beasts I've heard tale of still here?.....perhaps a 30lb Common?
All I know is that this small pool has woven an enchanted spell upon me and I find myself wanting to spend time here....I spent last night on its banks through rain and thunder, my only reward a solitary Bream of around 6lb.The Sun came out at daybreak though and I was able to explore..I saw nor heard any sign of a Carp...I will return.

Action Shots From Nashy's Church Lake

2010-08-19T08:03:00.029+01:00

Full Story Here.

Return To The Secret Lake

2010-08-17T21:02:00.001+01:00

After my recent run of blanks, it was time to get the feeder rod out, I love to catch fish of all species, and though the specimen hunter instinct sometimes blinkers my attitude, every now and again it's nice to just get a bend in the rod.

Today I had the privelege of Lady Sarah's companionship and it was decided that we re-visit the secret lake, the scene of my recent Catfishing blank and also of my early Spring Rudd bonanza.As usual there were no other anglers..Set-up was maggots to size 16 hook with a black cap feeder.

Of course it was raining as we arrived and the air was cool and quiet. The brolly went up for the good Lady and I sat out.

It's incredible how quickly one loses the ability to fish a certain way with lack of practise and I probably missed the first ten bites.....too slow on the strike, the hook returning with a couple of sucked out maggots.

Then there was the hooking up of clothing, my hand towel, shrubbery and overhead branches, "Bull in a china shop" springs to mind.

It all came good though with bites and fish coming fast and furious, all Roach of a certain size and one rogue Rudd.
The highlight of the day (apart from the sun finally coming out) was not a fish however, but as I sat watching the tip of my rod the good Lady whispered "Look at the other side of the lake"..there stood a Muntjack Deer that had come to the lake to quench its thirst, had I been alone I'd have missed it completely.

Lady Sarah did take many photos of the Roach, only two were any good !....Finally,I have found something she is rubbish at!!

The Flip Side

2010-08-12T21:36:00.002+01:00

It's Monday evening, the weather is good so the shop has been busy and I'm the only fellow serving and giving advice. It seems that everyone needs my attention but my mind wanders, meandering off to the banks of a nearby lake, a lake I will fish tonight for Catfish. My feet ache, my eyes are strained and the day drags long,long....Hmmm Catfish, big Catfish. The very fact that I am discussing this wonderful pastime of ours all day, somehow makes the longing to fish more acute in my mind.
It's two minutes to five, a chap walks in, picks up a basket...I am polite and pleasant, but in reality I wish the fellow had come in an hour ago. Fifteen minutes later (that's thirteen minutes after closing time) he pays and I close up the shop.
I have now caught the traffic of the factory workers leaving the nearby industrial estate, oh to just be at the waters edge right now.
Home, grab a bite, quick bath, change to angling attire....open the room of The Intrepid Piscator, "Catfishing, now where are the rigs I spent an hour tying last night?, large forceps?, beefy rods? Have I forgotten anything?....No...Yes!!...bait...anything else?, think.....No, lets go fishing.
I load the car, backwards and forwards four times with so much stuff for a comfortable night then off to the lake.....more traffic...come on...otherwise someone else will be in the swim.
I reach the gate, get out of the car, unlock the gate,get in the car, drive through, get out of the car, lock the gate....this procedure I repeat another two times before parking up.
Tackle unloaded, no barrow for me, they are for cisseys, right?, I should be able to do the trip to the other side of the lake in one journey. Off I set, laden with Holdall, Rucksack, Unhooking Mat and Bedchair etc....it's a killer, but I'm not ready to barrow yet, of course!
There it is then, the view I've longed to see all day, except when I imagined it earlier there wasn't another angler bivvied up there, just there...I continue around the lake and settle for the next best..grrr.
Ah the relief when that rucksack slides off the back...time to construct camp.
The air is muggy and the sweat drips from my brow as I try to insert bivvy pegs and banksticks into a ground reminiscent of concrete with a modicom of stealth. After another forty minutes the rods are baited, cast and I can finally relax, even though I cannot find my headtorch and fear it may be at home. I sit back at last, for the first time today...I am fishing.....then something happens, something so predictable these days that it is truly, truly beginning to get to me. "Was that a Rudd topping, there's another...No...not Rudd..Rain....AGAIN".....the heavens open, I dive for cover.
Confined to barracks I stare out into torrent until, finally, it abates. It's nearly dark now, twilight, that time, on a warm, humid eve, when our friend the mosquito comes out to play. I'm alright though because I am now in possession of that stuff that sounds like a ladies moisturising product from a well known door-to-door cosmetics company. You know, that stuff the British Army uses in Belize and every Highland Ghillie uses to deter the midges, the stuff every angler that knows about, gives that knowing nod....I'm sorted..quite lucky really considering that my all singing, all dancing, all year round sleeping bag is still too hot at this time of year even though I have removed the winter inner section, and I will have to sleep on top of it.
Into slumber then....deep sleep, I dream of a large moggy, but hey,what's that noise? A buzzer screaming out?, nope, that noise is rain on my bivvy roof, relentless until daybreak when I get to look at motionless bobbins instead of motionless isotopes.
My one salvation is a delivery of food by the good Lady Sarah, I look at her,after my fourth blank in a row, through sunken eyes, my skin akin to a 'dot-to-dot' such are the amount of insect bites............."Any Luck?", she asks!

Scenes From A Secret Lake

2010-08-03T20:57:00.010+01:00

A lot of us know one, we all dream of them, sometimes we fish them....a secret lake.
Regular readers will remember that earlier in the year I spent a day on a little fished pool for Rudd. With my river fishing not happening for me a the moment (don't worry it''ll all come good) I ventured back to this magical place.
I didn't catch (or even see)one of the alleged Catfish or Carp in this pool but the visit has whet my appetite for the place and I will be returning to this sanctuary soon.