Beard and Wonderful

"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

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 ?

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........

A Wizard Fish

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.

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)

Chris Yates Interview

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

The Nearly Man

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!!

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.