A carp from a tree

Yesterday I made the trek to Waggoners Wells, after the week at Redmire I felt I still had the urge to catch some Leney’s and Waggoners is the most accessible lake I have. I woke at 4am, loaded the car, had a light breakfast and headed for the motorway. I’d say it’s around 40 minutes for me so ideal for a nice long day session in the summer. I arrived shortly after 5am and found only one other angler there but he was on a different pond. I had a few walks around first to try to locate the fish but, as it was early, they weren’t showing, but they were bubbling in a few places.
I decided to start at the deeper end off the causeway and flicked two rigs in the edge with a handful of baits over each one. While I waited I saw a few fish start to cruise so I started to fire out a few mixers four at a time with my little match catty, I love the match catty, less noise and less disturbance, although she’s getting a little tired now so will soon need a newer model moved in. After a few minutes, one carp started to take a few of the mixers, not really having it, but certainly starting to show an interest. I wound in one of the margin rods and quickly set up the floater rod. I cast out a freelined mixer and sat to watch events unfold.

Quest for a Mirror

The alarm sounded very unpleasant, 3:30am is no time to be getting up….but I was going fishing, round two at the legendary Waggoners Wells. Through weary eyes I managed to make a flask of coffee without spilling any or scalding myself so I knew, there and then, that I was in good form…..On the way the wiper blades reminded me that they needed replacing, a horrible sound almost like that of nails being scraped along a blackboard, but I had no choice, the rain was persistent, I needed to get to where I was going and there was no chance Halfords would be open at that hour. Any other day the dim light and wet conditions would have made for a very drab journey but spirits were high. I arrived at the car park at 4:45am. Although I had only the bare essentials and carefully thought out what to take my equipment was still fairly heavy and the ten minute walk to the pond was one of aching shoulders and tree roots trying their best to trip me up. At the pond I was delighted to find nobody there, I fancied the swim next to the pads due to its deep nature, first impressions were that there were no fish cruising around just yet so they were more than likely in the deeper spots enjoying breakfast. With a rod just off the pads and one near the overhang I sat back, poured from my flask and settled back against a tree stump to daydream of big, heavily scaled, old Carp.

A New Dawn

There is an air of childlike innocence surrounding the use of old tackle for fishing. It’s hard to explain what I mean but I will try anyway. Recently I have taken to using traditional tackle, and by that I mean a split cane rod, old Mitchell reel and very basic end tackle. I would like to take this further by obtaining a vintage (but safe) net and a creel to sit on and stow tackle sometime in the near future. There is a largish pond of around 15 acres very close to my home that contains carp, not massive carp, the average is probably no more than 6 or 8lbs but bigger ones do exist there with reports of fish breaking the twenty pound barrier. But, being so close to home (3 minutes drive) and having mainly small carp in, I find it ideal to try out my new found passion.

A year ago I would have thought you mad if you told me I’d be more than happy catching single figure carp on a wooden rod but it’s true, it pleases me no end. The childlike innocence I mentioned comes from watching the bright float riding the ripples and holding onto a cane rod which I must say is much heavier than my carbon ones and using a reel that is very noisy and the clutch is terrible, but although I didn’t use such items of tackle in my youth I ca imagine that many did long before I was around. The water I have chosen also suits me due to the fact that there is little or no chance of bumping into anyone I know, it isn’t fished very much and there is always a nice spot to hide away, eliminating the possibility if someone recognising me and laughing at my equipment. The carp, although very small compared to the carp I usually fish for, fight like tigers, testing the vintage tackle to the limit, but if the old boys did it, I’m damn sure I’ll have a good go. Using such gear also allows me to tune into my surrounding better which I’m sure helps me blend in and go unnoticed, I like to think of it that way anyway, and why not.

Success on fine tackle

I made the eagerly awaited visit to Waggoners Wells, history water stocked from the nearby Surrey Trout Farm 50 years ago by Mr Donald Leney. Waggoners is a wonderful place, steeped in tales of old, visited regularly and written about by Chris Yates. These days the old strain still live there, deep in the woods surrounded on all sides by tall trees, but the fishing is very difficult, wily old Carp who have seen it all before and the copious amount of dog walkers throwing balls and sticks into the water for their dogs to fetch don’t help in the slightest. I have a love affair with Waggoners as I do all the historic Carp waters and my goal is to fish as many as I can and catch from them, although I knew Waggoners would be a tall order after my last visit, one half chance and they stuck two great big fingers up at me as they tormented me for the rest of that day, impossible Carp but Carp I dearly wanted to catch.

I woke early, 3:30am, made a small breakfast and a flask of coffee and drove through empty roads to my destination full of enthusiasm and optimism. I arrived at around 4:45am and a quick tour of the lake confirmed that all was quiet. Nothing moved so I sat and waited for the Carp to begin stir, and at around 6am they started to move around clearly visible in the gin clear water. I chose a spot on the left hand bank opposite the pads, my idea was to fish two rods in close toward my own bank using the overgrown banks as shelter from spooking the fish, then, if I managed to get them going on the surface I planned to fish with 4lb line which is why I chose the swim as far away from the pads as possible. For the first few hours the Carp did their usual, looking good in the sunlight and teasing me by swimming under my rods giving me full views if their pristine Leney characteristics. Commons, Mirrors, they were swimming past without a care in the world and I felt the frustration start as my stomach started to get tied in knots.

A Session to Remember

With heavy rain and thunder storms forecast all weekend, Tony and I questioned whether or not to fish this weekend, but our passion for the sport we love was far too strong to let a little bad weather stand in our way. I picked Tony up at around 4pm on the Friday and with the car loaded we set off for our chosen venue. I suggested Carron Row, a venue very close by and one I’d spent a lot of time on in the past, Tony, on the other hand, had only spent three previous nights at the complex ad each one ended fruitless so he wasn’t overly optimistic, but, we could think of nowhere else to try that late in the afternoons the decision was made to fish pond 3, that was if there were any swims available. 

We drove up to the causeway between ponds 2 and 3 and were delighted to see pond three devoid of anglers, we quickly secured our swims with buckets and proceeded to unload the car. Tony opted for the swim opposite the sunken tree and I set up in the Pipe Swim. With the rods we sat back with a cuppa and before long the first of the raindrops fell. Just then my right hand rod, fished close to a tree on the nearside right hand margin let out a few bleeps, I watched as the bobbin slowly crept to the top and as I struck I felt that typical Tench like resistance, something I’ve grown quite familiar with over the past few weeks. We unhooked the fish in the margin and I cast the rod back to the spot followed by a few free offerings. We sat outside the bivvies for a while chatting but the rain got steadily harder and harder along with hearing deafening claps of thunder drawing ever closer. At 10pm we retired to our bivvies and listened to the awesome conditions so close but unable to get to us. 

Easter Work Party @ Redmire

The drive from the south coast to the Welsh border was surprisingly smooth with only two tractors through Newent slowing me down a little. I arrived at the pool at a little after 9am and immediately made my way to what is the most photographed spot in Carp fishing, The Redmire Dam.

First impressions were the same as always, awesome. It’s funny but no matter how many times you look out over the pool, no matter what time of year, it still looks amazing and you cannot help but to feel a little emotional. Then my attention was fixed on the shallows, at first I though the Carp could be frolicking in the morning sunshine, but it was more than that…..they were spawning. The first time I was to witness the spawning of the Redmire Carp, I felt highly privileged that’s for sure.

Winter Carping....Highs and Lows

My head was telling me to stay home, heavy frosts all week meant another drop in water temperature therefore making the Carp even more reluctant to play. My heart, however, was urging me to get to the lake as soon as possible. Needless to say my heart won the argument and Friday afternoon I found myself back at the pit. First impressions were that of wintry bleakness, a bitter north westerly blowing into the swim I’d chosen. I stood a while to contemplate the situation but soon found myself unloading the car and pitching up for the weekend. With the areas I thought the fish would be hiding found and the rods in position the light began to fade, I made myself comfortable and settled in for the night. 

2nd visit to Redmire

The day of reckoning was upon me, my second trip to Redmire, this one being a summer trip, although the weather had something different to say about that. The night before I was due to set off Hereford, and indeed most of the country, had the first frost of the year. Not a particularly heavy frost but a frost none the less and a long time since the last one.
The journey was exiting, in fact, the whole getting ready thing including preparing bait and tackle and even loading the car, checking and double checking the checklists and saying farewell to my loved ones. “I shall return in 5 days time, pray that the gods of Redmire are kind to me!” I said as I left the house.

Once I got over the Severn Bridge the scenery changed, it always does. There is something special that I love about the Welsh countryside, rolling hills, valleys, old bridges, it has everything. I got to the pub at a little before 11am and was already supping a shandy when Rich entered. We introduced ourselves and sat to talk of the prospects for the week. Whilst chatting we thought it a good idea to order a meal from the bar so that we did, polished off our meals and set forth to the pool.