Fishing 'Tackle'

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

"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.

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.

_________________

Special Lake, Special Times

A New Rod

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

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?

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

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.