I Love It When It Rains.

Having been low and virtually unfishable in the season, my beloved local stretch of the River Ouzel has now burst its banks. The water meadows are doing their job perfectly and naturally. I normally take a scenic walk to work this way on a Monday. Back to the roads this week, I reckon.

Close Season Treats

I've been on a bit of a self imposed close season, it won't last the distance, the new lake opens on May 1st and I'm champing at the bit.
 It has however allowed me to take stock and get organised. Organisation is not a trait usually associated with me, often I tend to be impulsive, especially where angling is involved.
 In the past I have fished through the grueller months in the hope of a bite from 'The Common'. I will have another little dabble for her this year, but only when the time is right. What an elusive fish she is, uncaught this year despite many anglers efforts. If I'm honest it's a rat race I don't miss, but, what a fish she is.
 I have had time to take stock, re-evaluate and am now hungry for new challenges. what better excuse then to splash out on a few new items of tackle.
 First there was a set of three 12' 2.5lb TC Harrison Ballista rods, old school classics. I wasn't looking for some, but when I was asked if I knew anyone who was, I couldn't let them pass. An ideal players rod, just the job for the new intimate lake and also  bought with an eye on the fabled 'pool'. I think their forgiving action is just the ticket for Redmire, where hook pulls are commonplace.
 Next was a good old car-boot purchase a nice useable pre-Garcia 50's Mitchell 300 with the V-check and perfect bail and spring for a fiver....lovely.
 Some time ago I got to thinking about a new rod for my small river chubbing. Although the Chapmans 500 is a fine wand, I did find I'd need a bit more backbone for those jungly 'chubby' swims and a little less length for those overhead branches. After some discussion with the venerable gentlemen of  The Traditional Fisherman forum (link in side panel) a worthy contender was deemed to be The Allcocks Nimrod, originally designed as a spinning rod for Salmon and Pike, it has the strength I require and is one and a half feet shorter than the 500 and sensitive enough at the tip. Here's the one I have purchased..

 It was only then that I saw this sign, it got me thinking about a reel......

 Now I have secretly been yearning for the rather quirky Felton Crosswind for some time. Some love this mad reel and have had a long standing 'affair' with it, others find it a bit of an oddball.
 Well that ticks all the boxes by my reckoning so I am now awaiting delivery of this little baby..

 I can't wait to get out out there now and  put them all to good use, roll on my friends...roll on.


All photos in this post are from previous owners and credited as such.

A Lunchtime Treat

I couldn't resist nipping out for an hour today to feed and watch my new friends.
Is there anything finer for lunch than sitting eating sandwiches amongst the branches of a beautiful willow, whilst a lovely carp cruises below and the birds sing above ?

Wood Carvings

I was walking around one of those parks at the weekend. You know the sort, a sanitised man-made version of the countryside, with lots of signs telling me where to walk, and what I should be looking at. It was nice to stroll out with Lady Sarah though and we did stumble across this beauty.

I do love to see a good wood carving, it really is a fine art. I was reminded of the wonderful carvings of Brian Mills which were regularly advertised in Carpworld in the 80's.

I bet his works  of art fetch a fortune these days. I wonder what became of him.

Watching? ..Yes. Learning?....Um!!

In a quiet corner of the lake, a fin breached the calm mirrored surface. A journey to the area meant treading the untrodden.
Every hawthorn and bramble grabbing at me from side and sky, on more than one occasion they held on tight and their stubborness was matched by mine. They won of course, cuts to my arms being painful proof.
 They knew, you know?, them fish. Safe havens can be found on every lake, they'll always be there if conditions dictate. Sometimes you really do have to go down the slippery slope to get to them.
 I finally reached the area, they were there.
  Nestling down behind a half submerged snag I soon became aware of specific patrol routes between branches, the direction sometimes changed, the route didn't. In and out they came, predictable and confident in their presumed safety.
 A shaft of sunlight pierced through the overhead canopy of ancient oak sending a shaft of light through the water, illuminating a small gravelly area behind the snag.
 Tossing out some tiger nuts and sweetcorn on to this area whilst the carp were absent was simple, the corn glowing like the stars at night, the tigers planets, a sub aquatic cosmos.
 A carp of around twelve pounds sauntered into the area, it was a common. It spotted the corn, did it spot me also? Quickly taking two grains, it was soon on its way. Then another common, and another. All did the same.
 The next fish was a mirror, possibly a stock fish around fifteen pounds, relatively new to the lake and hardly caught, he'd be a bit green, naive, wouldn't he? He stopped above the baited area, hovering, just six inches above it, he was looking, intently looking. After a period of what can only be described as pondering, he set about performing a full 360 degree turn above the bait, still looking. When he stopped, in the self same position he started in, he started to waft the bait with one of his pectoral fins. Now I'm watching all this going on and he's clearly looking for a rig, surely? I'm transfixed.
 All this cagey behaviour, from a youngish, unpressured fish now had me puzzled. I was so entranced by its cunning behaviour that I was completely surprised by what happened next. A mirror of around thirty pounds swam into the area, nudged the smaller fish, which had eaten nothing, out of the way and instantly and boldly proceeded to eat the bait, throwing up clouds of detritus in the process.
 Fortunately the gravelly lake bed meant that I was still able to view proceedings with some clarity. This fish ate and ate. It was literally searching out single grains of corn, sometimes contorting its body into gaps under branches to access them....it ate everything.
 What then, have I learnt? My first impression was that the large fish was large because he was greedy, and that therefore he was catchable and that the stock fish had more intelligence than I'd given him credit for. However, having given it some thought, let's just hypothesise that the larger fish had followed the smaller to the area but sat back and watched proceedings from a safe vantage point before entering and eating. This now put a different perspective on the whole event. Maybe, just maybe, it was the big boy who was the clever one, I really don't know.
 The one thing I have learnt from these observations on this and other lakes is that the commons are less likely to be caught over large beds of bait. A fish that picks up a few offerings then vacates is more likely to be caught using single hookbaits only, or at most a small PVA bag or stringer set-up.
 It's all good food for thought....and these hours spent in observation are never wasted.

New Lake, New Challenges

You may recall that a few months back I received message stating that I had been given the nod to join a local syndicate. I wrote about it at the time here.
It has been a very long time, almost half of my life, that I have waited to join the night syndicate on this lake. There are only a very select few that get the chance and it is literally 'dead mans shoes'.
It was a day of epic proportions then, when the good old posty dropped a white envelope on my mat containing my membership card and rota (week on,week off for newbies) details.
 The ticket starts on May 1st and the lake is currently enjoying a short close season. What better time then to go and have a mooch about.
 The lake is an oasis, set in a depression. Many years ago it was used for washing gravel. It is now a  far cry away from those times. You feel like you are entering another world.
 At the first swim I was greeted by old Esox, as he drifted by in the clear margins. This is the home of large predators, it's Catfish population amongst the oldest and biggest in the country. That's not what I'm after though. The Carp population is an enigma, some old original fish are there and a few recent stockies.

It's a lake of character, edged with mature native trees. I really can't wait to get stuck into it, so much so that I can't summon the desire to fish anywhere else at the moment.
 Some of the swims just scream....CARP.

A bay at the far end was an obvious place to explore, quiet and snaggy, it has all the ingredients you'd look for. I was strolling through the undergrowth when something caught my eye.

Do you see an orangey/yellow shape in the centre of this photo? That is  Carp, a rather large Koi. I was intrigued and tried to manoevre myself for a better view, he soon clocked me though, and set off down the lake away from me. I continued my circumnavigation.

I soon found a couple of carp in this quiet corner.

Remarkably, tucked well in behind a large snag, I spotted another, different Koi, this one I have christened Casper. I tried to shuffle towards him without 'spooking' him.

He was soon joined by a larger Mirror.

It was soon after this, that a fish came on to a little area I'd baited with  corn and tiger nuts. He was big, and seemingly very hungry, because I watched him scoff every single bait, with no fear at all. This fish was in my estimation around 30lb and appears quite catchable. He has a blemish on his side.I will call him 'White Spot'.

I watched many other fish come into this area, but White Spot was the biggest. He was also the fish that ate the most!!
 By the time this fella came there wasn't much left.

 I made my way back, but my eye was once again caught by the first Koi I'd seen. I'm going to call him 'Black Cheeks' for obvious reasons.

By now the afternoon sun had reach the little bay and it contained a group of commons as well as Black Cheeks. That Koi really looked a peach though, wide across the back, waddling as she went. I was unable to guess a weight.

It was lovely, sitting in the late March sun watching Carp, acquainting myself with my new mates.Something flashed in the corner of my eye, and there in the margins was Casper flashing in the sunlight, rubbing himself on the lake bed. My guess, having seen a few of the fish doing this, is that they are removing leeches that have latched onto them in the winter, when the fish would not have moved much.

 He then proceeded to swim right in front of me, he really is a friendly fish!!

 I could've sat there for hours, in fact, I did..I had learned much. I hadn't seen a fish to beat my PB, but I'd certainly met three fish I'd dearly love to meet again.

Smoke On The Water

" I know we'll never forget.

Smoke on the water and fire in the sky."

It's strange really, how these little groups form. The first cup of tea I consume at Redmire each year is always made with the Kelly kettle. One forgets previous brews and what fuel may have been used and the soot that may have formed within the walls of it's funnel. There is also the damp leaves and twigs to factored in to the equation.

 At the beginning of last October's weekend, the ritual was played out. Everything was going swimmingly, that is until a mushroom cloud appeared over the sacred pool.

 I have a few photos of the event, taken by Malc, in the Evening Pitch. it has to be said that things became much worse, so much so, that much of the pool became enveloped and myself and Malc retreated to the shallows amidst much coughing, as our bivvies became engulfed in smoke. All this was a jolly wheeze to Mick, up in Stumps. Unfortunately, he was laughing so much at Malc's disappearance that he failed to take any photos of the event.

Here are Malc's photos.......

The scene almost looks calm and serene. It got much worse, In fact the smoke reached Malc's bivvy quite quickly. Oh well, no harm done and everything was soon under control.

 This incident has however gained some cultish infamy amongst the four anglers present, a group has been formed around it, "The Noble Order of the Smoking Kelly" or "The Smoking Kelly Club" for short. Who knows what the future of the group holds, but for now the name has stuck.

One thing I know for sure though is " we'll never forget, smoke on the water ".

Go on, treat your ears, you know you want to......

Last Day - Up With The Lark

My old mucker John and I managed to slope off down to the Ouzel again for the last day of the river season. Chub would be our quarry.
As we opened the gate the shrill warbling of a skylark could be heard and we scannned the sky to see who'd be first to spot it, for a change it was John who had the best eyesight.
 We usually adopt differing tactics, myself the roaming, twenty minutes here and move on style and John more a 'bait and wait' single swim method. Both styles have their merits. We wished each other good luck and I strolled across the first field.
 It's amazing really, you don't think you're making any noise. As anglers, most of us have an inbuilt stealth. Yet here I find pheasants at least a hundred yards away legging it across the field like Roadrunner and rabbits tearing off in all directions, I might as well have been a one man band with cymbals strapped to my knees!
 I walked on through the thicket just in time to see the white flash of the rear end of a deer, they seem to even run quieter than I can walk.
 I started to bait up a few swims along the way and eventually came to the end of the beat.
 Having taken my time to set up the Chapman 500, Mitchell 300 combo, I eventually settled , sat upon my roll mat and made the first cast. Today was going to be a bread day and out when a sizeable lump.
 I was soon distracted by that azure flash and high pitched greeting of my friend the kingfisher. As he shot by he  loudly told me he was off upstream and that I wouldn't be seeing him again today. I bid him good luck as he flew out of sight.
 The rod tip stayed still and my eyes wandered again, this time along the bank. You see, I was tucked away under a tree right down near the water line. as I scanned the mud my eyes were met with this......

....Now I think I know what made this, and I am still undecided as to what my feelings are about them. Anyway, after about half an hour I moved back a bit upstream to the bend in the photo above. That photo was taken last week and in the meantime the rather large chunk of tree in the foreground has moved along to right, it screamed chub. I'd thrown some bait in on the way up , so with a quick underarm flick, I was fishing.
 I was quite surprised when nothing happened..My mate the robin, from last week, happened along, he wondered if he might be allowed to try a sample of Warburtons Medium Sliced. I obliged.
 I sat watching the squirrels run across the fallen tree bridge and up and down the surrounding trees, every now and then a twig would descend from the heights and chart a course downstream.
 Time passed, I felt sure the swim would produce so I wound in, resting it a while. I strolled way upstream to a, thus far, fishless John and I cranked up the kelly for a cuppa and chatted a while about spicy maggots and stuff.
On my return journey  I was buzzed all the way back by a rather large and over-friendly bumble bee. They are amongst my favourite creatures and he seemed to like my greeting of 'Hello big fella'. He followed me for some time, before being distracted by something in the field opposite.
 Back in the swim I re-baited, cast, waited ten seconds and around she thumped, fish on, the old 500 took on an absolutely amazing curve as I tried to stop Mr. Chevin from racing beneath that submerged tree. At one point I thought I had the better of him, but he somehow found a second wind and he shot into the snag and threw the hook, I am not one to curse and pull my hair out at such times, but I was disappointed, to say the least.
 I pondered my next move. Usually at such times I will move swim, thinking any other chub would be spooked out by the disturbance, so I moved up to the next bend,

 I sat here a while, but sometimes you just know it isn't going to produce, I returned to the previous swim, my original roaming plan now abandoned.
 Bread on the hook, I shotted the hooklink nearer the hook, an underarm flick, ten seconds, bang, around the tip went, strike, resistance, off it headed to the submerged tree, it made it, and for a while all went solid.
 I slackened off and he was fooled by the ploy, he tore straight out into the flow and after a real spirited battle he was engulfed by the waiting net.

What a fine conditioned fellow he was.
 I was just about to head off upstream when I received a call from John who said he had a fish in the net and could I come and take a photo or two.
 What a lovely fish he'd bagged, his spicy maggots doing the business.

These fish are by no means easy to catch so we'd had a result, John even went on to catch another before the sun started to dip.

The sun was setting on another river season and as we walked back to car we both said, "Roll on, the 16th of June"

This Weeks River Photos