Redmire Pool....November 2012

When Ed contacted me and asked if I wanted to accompany him to Redmire Pool for a couple of days in November due to one of his party dropping out, I jumped at the chance. I see Ed as a likeminded angler who loves the history of the sport, passionate about old tackle, pools and anglers and loves to spend quality time at his favourite pool, Redmire. Obviously it was going to be a much different trip, only two days as opposed to my usual five, and at a time of year when fishing would be tricky. But the landscape would be going through its seasonal change, so to be there and witness it with Ed and his friends was something that just had to be done.

The morning came and after much worrying about finding the time to ready my things I arrived in Ross at the meeting point we’d arranged full of expectation. The first stumbling block encountered was the pub we decided to meet at was open at midday, and we got there at ten thirty. With the cars parked and introductions done we headed into town and Weatherspoons for breakfast and some warmth. It was chilly, slightly overcast and reminiscent of early winter, which was exactly what it was and the way things would be throughout our stay. Although, I kind of hoped it wouldn’t be too cold, I was hardly geared up for arctic conditions so overcast mild nights were wished for. With warm food in our bellies we headed back to the cars and onwards to the pool.

We arrived in the car park and those butterflies returned once again. She looked amazing in her late autumn/early winter colours. The water was semi clear and weed was still visible, but not half as bad as back in July. After a walk around the guys chose their pitches for the weekend, Christian opted for Keffords, Matt set up in the Style, Ed favoured In Willow and I set up camp in The Willow Pitch (Walkers). I’d never fished this pitch before so it was nice to be spending a couple of nights in there, for nostalgic reasons and the social aspect if nothing else. I quickly set up a rod and upon casting a lead around it was apparent that there was still a lot of low lying weed around the pool so a couple of spots, just three rod lengths out, were found and baited, just to make things easy in the dark.

My Pitch...

It was overcast whilst setting up with a stiff breeze blowing down to the shallows. On our walk around we noticed some colouring up at the head of the pool so as soon as my pitch was set up I departed for the shallows with a stalking rod and a tub of worms. I fished for an hour or so but nothing came my way, I later realised that the rain caused the feeder stream to flow fairly strongly and that was what was making the colouration. I returned to our pitches in time for Ed to strike up his Kelly Kettle (he’s quite an expert in the ways of the Kelly) and I helped out by preparing a pot of tea and supplied a few chunks of the splendid cake my Dad made for the trip.

Kelly Kettle...our hero

With our light snack time over Ed and I headed for the dam for some gudgeon fishing. It was already getting dusky when we started and I had one eye on the light levels, I didn’t want to get back to my pitch too late and not be able to cast onto my primed spots. We caught a gudgeon each, and nice ones too, and I bid Ed happy hunting before returning to Walkers and out went two baits for the night. Ed fished on into darkness, caught a couple more gudgeon and hoped for an eel but they failed to make an appearance.

Dusk begins to fall...

With my rods out (I was using a 1956 Mark IV and an 11ft Mark IV I picked up which belonged to Tom O’Reilly which I had yet to catch on, matched with Mitchell 300s) and the sky darkening by the minute I set up another rod with a float capable of taking a starlight in the tip, cast it out with a worm on the end and hoped an eel might come a-sniffing. I had yet to complete the Redmire set on any of my previous trips, so with the gudgeon caught already I was hopeful that this could be the trip. The rain came soon after I got comfortable and continued throughout the night, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above me and the candle flickered on the table. Another pot of tea was had with my evening meal and I continued to watch the float until my eyes could no longer stay open. I retired to the sleeping bag for some rest and after a brief moment listening to the owls I was soon dreaming of ten pound gudgeon.


The dam in autumn

Morning came and although the sky was still slightly overcast it was clearing up, the rain had ceased and patches of blue had started to appear. The morning brew consisted of 30% Earl Grey and 70% Ceylon, and was appreciated by Ed. We decided to concentrate our efforts on the shallows for the first half of the day and to see how things went from there. With a couple of rods each, the tea making kit and more of that wonderful cake we made our way around to Hiltons and awaited the suns warmth on our necks. There was one slight mishap on the way to the shallows, the teapot fell from my shoulder bag landing on the ground and breaking off half of the spout. It still worked, well sort of, but sadly it was to be that teapot’s last adventure with me.

Stalking time....

Wounded pot and a gudgeon...

We saw more fish than we thought we’d see that morning, but by lunchtime the fish we spotted had drifted away and the plan was lunch followed by more gudgeon fishing from the dam. The sun was bright and with a clear sky forecast overnight it was destined to be a very chilly one. But Ed and I decided to sit it out on the dam, fishing for gudgeon till dark and then eels and carp thereafter. Many gudgeon were landed that afternoon, well over twenty and with the light fading we cast our carp and eel rods out and prepared hot meals and a couple of mugs of coffee. The sky was beautiful, we sat in our chairs looking upwards, putting the world to rights whilst watching shooting stars, satellites and planes.

Army of vintage rods...

Eventually it became too cold to sit out any longer so the rods were wound in and we returned to our respective pitches to cast out for the final night of our stay. The thought of capturing a carp, or indeed and eel, seemed unlikely at that point: I’m always optimistic but the longer the session went on the more I thought we’d fail to catch. I’d fished hard for the eels, chopped worms in various spots, but it just didn’t look like it was going to happen. The same went for the carp, there were a few cruising the shallows briefly during that day, but throughout the whole weekend we never heard one fish crash out. The rods were dropped as close to the primed areas as I could get them in the dark, a few handfuls of bait was deposited around each one and I sat back to enjoy more of that starlit night until it was time to hide myself away from the cold and try to get some much needed rest before the final morning’s stalking.

The night was very cold, and the decision to leave the fleece insert from my sleeping bag at home was a poor one. However, I came through to morning unscathed and a pot of tea soon warmed things up. The rods however were just as I expected them to be, very still. The was a wonderful mist clawing its way across that pool on that final morning so both Ed and I were hard at work with the cameras trying to capture what our eyes could see, but however good that camera is, you never quite get what you’re looking at,. Ed’s camera was amazing, much better than mine and he captured some wonderful shots, a couple of which he has kindly allowed me to use in this report, thanks Ed.

Ed's Pitch

The time had come to start to think about tidying things away, with everything back in the cars we could spend the last couple of hours searching the shallows for that last minute opportunity. My hands were still slightly cold so whilst Ed kept an eye on my rods I nipped back to the car for my gloves. I didn’t get far when Ed started shouting at me; I sprinted back and found him with the Tom O’Reilly rod bent double. When I took over it was weeded, but moving very slowly. I steadily brought what was obviously a huge lump of weed to the bank, whether or not there was a fish attached remained to be seen. As the dark green mass got a few yards from the bank we spotted a tail a few feet behind. Ed expertly scooped the net under what we thought was the fish and we both let out a little cheer once our prize was safely in the mesh. I bit the line, cleared some of the weed and hoisted her onto the unhooking mat. Matt and Christian heard the commotion and came to see what was happening and to congratulate me; it was the perfect end to a marvellous weekend.


Overwhelmed

It looked a good fish, a lovely dark common, certainly over twenty pounds and without a sign of damage anywhere, save for the odd scratch to its flanks. The weight was 23lbs on the nose and we carried her to the dam for some photos. Thanks fully Ed had some life left in his battery as I didn’t and he snapped away at the great fish and my massive smile. We watched the fish swim away and chatted a while about how one late fish can make a super weekend a magnificent one. A carp and some gudgeon, but no eel, someday I will complete the set.

The others packed away their things and continued to stalk for the remainder of the morning. I slowly dismantled camp and after numerous trips, without a barrow, back to the car I sat on the dam, cast out one rod and just admired the beauty of this magical place. It doesn’t matter how often I visit, whether I catch or not, whether I freeze half to death or even whether I get stuck in silt in the shallows, I will never stop loving Redmire. She has been very kind to me over the last few years, I feel we have struck up a bond and along with it I have made some very special friends.

With the arrival of the next party we wished them luck, said our own farewells and left the pool once again, hoping that the return wouldn’t be too far away.

Stunning...