Saturday, 7 April 2012
Carp-Talk Feature...Traditional Carping
This week you can find an article on Traditional Carping by yours truely on page 80.
Wednesday, 4 April 2012
This Weekend's Adventures...
This weekend was a very untidy one, I hadn’t really thought
through exactly what I wanted to achieve. There is not too much to report
really, but I’ll document the weekend to keep the diary up to date. I knew I wanted to catch some fish, wasn’t
really too bothered about large ones, just so long as I found some action. So
the schedule was to fish Dryad on Friday night through to Saturday afternoon
and on Sunday a trip to a private water was arranged through an invitation from
a friend where something very old could well turn up.
Wednesday, 28 March 2012
RN Match on Brasenose Two
Going into the weekend I had a vision of spending a weekend
with a group of anglers I didn’t know, save for a couple, and on a venue I had
little or no experience on, fishing an approach alien to me and with the
prospect of rain. As it turned out I was completely wrong, I’ll explain.
I’d arranged a lift with Jace, we’d never met but after a
brief phone conversation I was happy that we were on the same wavelength and
that we’d get on brilliantly. Andy contacted me after getting wind that I’d be
attending and asked if I wanted to partner him, I agreed knowing that Andy was
a good angler and another of the very few I had actually met before. So the
plan was to work until Thursday lunchtime, leave at 1pm and head for the linear
complex in Oxfordshire, the venue was Brasenose two, runs water known for its
big hits of fish, but whether or not it would happen with the lake pressured
remained to be seen. The danger was also being tied to one peg, if it was a bad
draw then you could sit in an area devoid of fish watching others catch, but it
was a gamble that had to be made, I was just happy to be going fishing for the
weekend.
Sunday, 18 March 2012
Three fish in frosty conditions
Yesterday I took my Mum out for lunch and cinema. A day early I know but I gathered that Sunday would be very busy what with everyone taking their parents out for the day. This came with the added bonus that could get in an overnighter and see if I could cause that big ghostie to slip up……
I got there around 4:40pm, it had been drizzling all day but a break in the weather meant I could get the brolly up and the rods out without getting drenched before I’d even started. The rain held off long enough for the first fish to be landed. A slow lift on the bobbin just before dusk set in and a scrappy and very plump common was brought to the net.
I only fished one rod, the spot is small and another would just get in the way as the plan once a take has been struck is to run right and stop any fish gaining sanctuary among the snags. The rod was situated so I’d just have to reach out and grab it should a take occur through the night, with the spool semi locked-up I could steer the fish away whilst slipping on my footwear and throwing off the sleeping bag, a plan that had done me proud so far.
Monday, 12 March 2012
Big Ghosite's Mate
Seeing as I already had the gear in the car, it was a nice day and the big ghostie was on my mind, I asked the wife if she wouldn’t mind me having a few hours down the pond this evening, lucky for me she agreed. I popped out to Asda at lunchtime and purchased a loaf of bread and a tin of spam. Four pm came and I was already on my way, naughty I know but I felt the need to slip out ten minutes early. The big ghostie was due out, and I was hoping I could tempt her!
Monday, 5 March 2012
A Thames Adventure
Yesterday it was time once again to board the Isaak with Cap’n Crimp. I met Rich at Hampton and reviewed the prospects for the day, with the first half concentrating on catching bait and the second half trying to tempt those toothy critters to the boat.
The morning was great fun with Rich and I doing great impressions of Huck Fin catching minnows, roach, bleak, perch, chublets and dace. I must say I was rather disappointed when we had to pack up and head for the river.
The morning was great fun with Rich and I doing great impressions of Huck Fin catching minnows, roach, bleak, perch, chublets and dace. I must say I was rather disappointed when we had to pack up and head for the river.
Friday, 2 March 2012
In the edge
Today I visited Waggoners again, after the success of last week’s trip I could think of nothing else all week, well apart from my wife’s 13 week scan, so Friday was booked off work and the relevant plans were made. With the sun appearing over the trees late in the day the previous weekend, I didn’t plan to get there until after ten, this would also let the traffic die down a bit.
I got there, after being stuck in traffic due to an accident on the motorway, at around 10:15am and headed straight for the spot I caught from the almost a week prior. The mist was heavy and blocked out the sunlight but at half ten the sun shone through enough to make things feel quite warm, and with that, the fish started to show, not in numbers, but the odd one was visible. I watched a fish cruise in from the left which headed straight for the margin I was fishing, it hovered over the spot and dipped out of sight, my gaze transferred to the rod tip and the slack line hanging from it. In a flash it tightened and the tip arched round, I clambered down the bank, struck, missed and saw the fish swimming away. I cursed my bad luck that I’d missed an opportunity but was thankful that I’d attracted a fish early on. Looking at the rig I decided that it was probably down to the 1 ounce lead I was using and upped it immediately to a 2oz.
I got there, after being stuck in traffic due to an accident on the motorway, at around 10:15am and headed straight for the spot I caught from the almost a week prior. The mist was heavy and blocked out the sunlight but at half ten the sun shone through enough to make things feel quite warm, and with that, the fish started to show, not in numbers, but the odd one was visible. I watched a fish cruise in from the left which headed straight for the margin I was fishing, it hovered over the spot and dipped out of sight, my gaze transferred to the rod tip and the slack line hanging from it. In a flash it tightened and the tip arched round, I clambered down the bank, struck, missed and saw the fish swimming away. I cursed my bad luck that I’d missed an opportunity but was thankful that I’d attracted a fish early on. Looking at the rig I decided that it was probably down to the 1 ounce lead I was using and upped it immediately to a 2oz.
Sunday, 26 February 2012
57 Year Old Leney Warrior
I woke to the sound of my favourite alarm clock, a sweet singing blackbird outside in the garden, it was seven am and I was going fishing. Unlike previous trips during the height of summer, I was in no rush to get to the pool; an eight am start was early enough. The recent warm weather had woken fish on one of my local waters from their winter slumber, but with clear skies the night before and a light ground frost I had little doubt that the carp wouldn’t show much before the sun had climbed way above the tree line and had begun to warm the surface layers. I was excited just to see the old place again, a premature visit in as much as I’d planned to return when the new season had started, this fleeting visit was just out of curiosity more than anything else. Throughout the whole journey I wondered if they would expose themselves, carp that are tricky enough in during the warmer months, so much went through my mind, I just couldn’t wait to arrive and assess the situation. The journey was a pleasant one, very little traffic, mist hung in the trees, although the closer I got to the venue, the whiter the fields became, near Petersfield the temp read zero degrees, not ideal but anticipation and enthusiasm soon waved away any doubts.
When I arrived at the Wells it didn’t really look that unfamiliar, I was half expecting this baron land of bare trees and lifeless water, instead there were evergreens, holly and moss to more than enough green to make me feel at home. The one odd thing I did find was the lack of lilies on the top pond, but I soon adjusted to that. I chose the swim judging where I though the sun would shine first, it was apparent as soon as I got there that the carp were still, small fish rippled the surface but the carp were nowhere to be seen. I pitched up at the right hand side of the dam, deep sloping margin which would warm nicely if the sun rose high enough, as it was the surface was still in the shade and tackling up the rods was harsh on the finger tips. Two baited rigs were swung out a couple of rod lengths out and with the rods laid on the floor with the rear drags loosened I sat back against a big tree truck and awaited the first of the dog walkers.
I guess I must have been sat there for about an hour when I saw the first sign of carp, just about where the pads used to be a largish fish surfaced and went back down sending up a plume of bubbles. I wound in and climbed the bank behind the pads swims for a better look. I saw two small carp ghost through, not on the surface but somewhere around half way up. I retrieved my things from my original swim and gently placed myself onto the right hand pads swim. I sat and watched for a while before doing anything, then a group of three fish cruised through the same height around two rod lengths out. Once they were gone I set up 12 inch pop ups on each rod and swung them into the path I through the next crew would take. I clocked the fish coming back but a foot from the roigs they turned out and into the lake, they’d sussed me.
I sprinkled a few pellets on the marginal slope in the swim, the next swim to the left and again at the bottom of the steps. Back up the top of the bank, a high vantage point where visibility for fish spotting is excellent, I wandered up and down watching for something to materialise, looking for that chance, that opportunity, I didn’t want to fish blind, with the sun warming my bank only I felt sure that the fish would visit and an opportunity would present itself.
It was midday, the patch just out from the bottom of the steps had been visited by two or three small carp, the view wasn’t great but they were definitely carp and they looked to be showing an interest in the pellets. I changed the rods to bottom rigs, attached two pellets to each hook and lowered them into position when the fish turned away. I sat quietly waiting for it to happen but it didn’t. They did return but got a foot from the rigs and actually went around them. The water was clear and I was sure in my head that they could see the rigs and line. I didn’t know what to do next, 1pm was upon me and I was no closer to tricking one of these wary carp, but I wasn’t about to give in.
With the rods out of the water the fish began feeding on the spot again, only this time there was a much bigger fish with them, I couldn’t make out how big or which one but it was good enough for plan C to be brought into action. The plan was to fish 5lb line straight through ending in a size 4 hook and a chunk of good old spam. The rod was a 1.75tc barbell rod, I know the tackle was light but the pads were gone and I have had to scale right down here to get a take in the past. With the rod ready I slipped down the bank as gently as I could, lowered the spam off the rod tip and onto the spot and letting out a little slack I retreated to the cover of the ferns and holly. As before I laid the rod on the ground and watched where the line entered the surface. It was still moving, but I put that down to the line sinking, but it kept on moving and gathered in pace, I picked the rod up, tightened down and felt an almighty lunge and line poured from the reel, fish on.
With such light tackle I wasn’t about to start bullying this fish, I didn’t know which one it was, it didn’t matter, I’d hooked a winter Waggoners carp, I just had to land it. As you can imagine, the fish dictated things from the off, if it wanted line I had to give it, I tried to gain back what I could but I wasn’t achieving much. The brute pulled me all over the place for a good fifteen minutes, with the line pinging off the dorsal a dozen times making my heart stop each time. Eventually it rolled a couple rod lengths out and I caught my first glimpse of it, an original, possibly the big girl, and then my knees really started shaking. Her head came up and she spat out a mouthful of water, ever so gradually I teased her over the cord and as soon as her nose hit the spreader block I lifted for all I was worth and engulfed my prize in mesh.
What a creature was my first thought, I more impressive fish I will struggle to find. The winter colours were amazing, its bulk was also impressive, I just couldn’t believe what was lying in my net. A couple walked past and I asked if they wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures for me, the gentleman kindly agreed and took some lovely shots, chopped my head off of a few but the fish was far more important than my ugly mug.
Not that it really mattered too much but the fish weighed 27lb 4oz. That cap was one of 100 stocked on 24th January 1956 by Donald Leney from the Surrey Trout Farm, so at 56 years old I think the old girl was looking good!!!!
I really didn’t want to let that one go, that capture meant more than me than any other. It wasn’t just the looks, but it was the history behind it, and with me being mad keen on all the history stuff, it made it all the more wonderful to actually touch a massive part of that history. I didn’t fish on after that, I remembered something Chris Yates told me in a letter he sent me, he said that in all his time fishing Waggoners, he only ever caught one fish, then left, never asked for a second as he thought the spirits of the lake wouldn’t take to kindly and may curse him somehow. So with that in mind I left the Wells on a high, buzzing, grinning from ear to ear and every other such superlatives you can think of.
When I arrived at the Wells it didn’t really look that unfamiliar, I was half expecting this baron land of bare trees and lifeless water, instead there were evergreens, holly and moss to more than enough green to make me feel at home. The one odd thing I did find was the lack of lilies on the top pond, but I soon adjusted to that. I chose the swim judging where I though the sun would shine first, it was apparent as soon as I got there that the carp were still, small fish rippled the surface but the carp were nowhere to be seen. I pitched up at the right hand side of the dam, deep sloping margin which would warm nicely if the sun rose high enough, as it was the surface was still in the shade and tackling up the rods was harsh on the finger tips. Two baited rigs were swung out a couple of rod lengths out and with the rods laid on the floor with the rear drags loosened I sat back against a big tree truck and awaited the first of the dog walkers.
I guess I must have been sat there for about an hour when I saw the first sign of carp, just about where the pads used to be a largish fish surfaced and went back down sending up a plume of bubbles. I wound in and climbed the bank behind the pads swims for a better look. I saw two small carp ghost through, not on the surface but somewhere around half way up. I retrieved my things from my original swim and gently placed myself onto the right hand pads swim. I sat and watched for a while before doing anything, then a group of three fish cruised through the same height around two rod lengths out. Once they were gone I set up 12 inch pop ups on each rod and swung them into the path I through the next crew would take. I clocked the fish coming back but a foot from the roigs they turned out and into the lake, they’d sussed me.
I sprinkled a few pellets on the marginal slope in the swim, the next swim to the left and again at the bottom of the steps. Back up the top of the bank, a high vantage point where visibility for fish spotting is excellent, I wandered up and down watching for something to materialise, looking for that chance, that opportunity, I didn’t want to fish blind, with the sun warming my bank only I felt sure that the fish would visit and an opportunity would present itself.
It was midday, the patch just out from the bottom of the steps had been visited by two or three small carp, the view wasn’t great but they were definitely carp and they looked to be showing an interest in the pellets. I changed the rods to bottom rigs, attached two pellets to each hook and lowered them into position when the fish turned away. I sat quietly waiting for it to happen but it didn’t. They did return but got a foot from the rigs and actually went around them. The water was clear and I was sure in my head that they could see the rigs and line. I didn’t know what to do next, 1pm was upon me and I was no closer to tricking one of these wary carp, but I wasn’t about to give in.
With the rods out of the water the fish began feeding on the spot again, only this time there was a much bigger fish with them, I couldn’t make out how big or which one but it was good enough for plan C to be brought into action. The plan was to fish 5lb line straight through ending in a size 4 hook and a chunk of good old spam. The rod was a 1.75tc barbell rod, I know the tackle was light but the pads were gone and I have had to scale right down here to get a take in the past. With the rod ready I slipped down the bank as gently as I could, lowered the spam off the rod tip and onto the spot and letting out a little slack I retreated to the cover of the ferns and holly. As before I laid the rod on the ground and watched where the line entered the surface. It was still moving, but I put that down to the line sinking, but it kept on moving and gathered in pace, I picked the rod up, tightened down and felt an almighty lunge and line poured from the reel, fish on.
With such light tackle I wasn’t about to start bullying this fish, I didn’t know which one it was, it didn’t matter, I’d hooked a winter Waggoners carp, I just had to land it. As you can imagine, the fish dictated things from the off, if it wanted line I had to give it, I tried to gain back what I could but I wasn’t achieving much. The brute pulled me all over the place for a good fifteen minutes, with the line pinging off the dorsal a dozen times making my heart stop each time. Eventually it rolled a couple rod lengths out and I caught my first glimpse of it, an original, possibly the big girl, and then my knees really started shaking. Her head came up and she spat out a mouthful of water, ever so gradually I teased her over the cord and as soon as her nose hit the spreader block I lifted for all I was worth and engulfed my prize in mesh.
What a creature was my first thought, I more impressive fish I will struggle to find. The winter colours were amazing, its bulk was also impressive, I just couldn’t believe what was lying in my net. A couple walked past and I asked if they wouldn’t mind taking a few pictures for me, the gentleman kindly agreed and took some lovely shots, chopped my head off of a few but the fish was far more important than my ugly mug.
Not that it really mattered too much but the fish weighed 27lb 4oz. That cap was one of 100 stocked on 24th January 1956 by Donald Leney from the Surrey Trout Farm, so at 56 years old I think the old girl was looking good!!!!
I really didn’t want to let that one go, that capture meant more than me than any other. It wasn’t just the looks, but it was the history behind it, and with me being mad keen on all the history stuff, it made it all the more wonderful to actually touch a massive part of that history. I didn’t fish on after that, I remembered something Chris Yates told me in a letter he sent me, he said that in all his time fishing Waggoners, he only ever caught one fish, then left, never asked for a second as he thought the spirits of the lake wouldn’t take to kindly and may curse him somehow. So with that in mind I left the Wells on a high, buzzing, grinning from ear to ear and every other such superlatives you can think of.
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