Goodbye Mr Carp...

This week I said goodbye to carp fishing for 2013 and hello to preparations for hunting other species. The trip to Waggoners Wells was like any other, apart from the fact I had a float rod in tow with a view to targeting the other fish that live in those magical waters. The thinking behind this was that the carp were all so special, so maybe there were other equally special fish living with them.

I woke ten minutes before the 5:45 alarm, did my best to get dressed in the dark whilst avoiding waking the wife and baby, tiptoed downstairs to make a flask of coffee and left the house somewhere around 6. The roads were deserted, the car isn’t in the best of shape with soot exiting the tailpipe at random moments (a sure sign it is soon to be visiting the scrap yard in the sky), but it got me there in one piece just before 7.

Walking past the middle pond I spotted one or two carp. I put out some broken bread and sat against a tree stump watching whilst I enjoyed the first coffee of the day, treating myself to half a dozen Malted Milk’s as breakfast. A kingfisher whizzed past, he was up early. The carp went about their business and failed to bother my crusts, so on I trudged with the bottom pond with the thought of that first WW carp on cane wedged firmly in my mind.

The carp seemed to be mostly at the shallow end, which to my delight meant I could fish for them from the end of the fallen oak. This swim is wonderful, people don’t walk past asking questions, dogs don’t tackle its slippery branch in case of falling in, so I would say it’s the most peaceful swim on the pool. Having said that, getting on and off can be a bit precarious, especially after rain, and once there it isn’t easy to play and land fish, but it is more than achievable if you're careful, so that was my first port of call.



Three commons sat on the silt with water barely covering their backs, I could see them sifting for food so I squeezed a flake onto the shank, made a gentle cast past them and drew it back into position inch by inch. One of the commons moved closer to inspect it but there was such a mass of gudgeon fighting over it, the common decided not to pursue the meal and carried on sifting with his buddies.

I turned around to look back towards the first proper swim and almost fell from my precipice when I spotted Sally, the biggun, looking awesome on the morning light. She had another old fish with her, possibly Madonna (I don’t know where these names came from, but these few original fish are the stuff of dreams). I attached a crust and flicked it past the pair. At this point I was half expecting a small common to come from nowhere and ruin the whole thing, but it didn’t, instead Madonna ambled up to the bait, sucked it half into her mouth, paused a while and spat it out. I watched as the pair looked at each other, nodded and gently swam off, all I could feel was utmost respect.

I had one more chance from the tree but pretty much the same thing happened. Soon after the shallows were devoid, word was out I had to find a new spot to angle from. I might point out here that conditions were perfect, the carp were as cunning as usual, nothing changes there, but a wonderful day in September, at one of the most special places I know, containing some of the most sought after fish in the country, and I never saw another angler all day.



At various places around the pond, and on the middle too, I had at least half a dozen chances, all taking an interest in the bait, some sucking it in but me being too slow on the strike, others just mouthing it, but no fish visited the bank. Just after lunch I thought I had made my breakthrough, a mirror was hooked just to the left of the pads on the bottom pond; at last I had made contact. The fish charged towards the pads so I tried to stop the charge as best I could with the little Penn reel and Mark IV stopping the fish just shy of the pads. As it swung back towards me on an arc I felt a grating on the line, it was as though there was an unseen underwater obstacle and the line was wrapped around it. The inevitable happened and all that came back to me was the line with the last few feet frayed.

It was then I decided to stop tormenting myself, many others have told me that when those WW carp don’t want to be caught, they won’t, and I believe them wholeheartedly. I looked at my newly refurbished Avon Perfection rod on its first outing with me and moodled round to the dam to see if I could spend the rest of the afternoon watching a float in the deep margins. I set the rod up, coupled it with a small aerial reel and began float fishing with sweetcorn right under the rod tip; it was around 4 feet deep.

As I struck at the first bite (which came around 5 minutes after starting) the rod came alive, little kicks transmitted down the rod and into my hands, it was wonderful. A lively little roach of around 6oz was swung in, admired and released. This process repeated time after time and for the next half hour I caught at least a dozen fish ranging between 6 and 8oz. Then, upon striking, I had to give line for the first time. It was obviously a much better fish that was hooked, this way and that way all the time hoping it would stay on. Stay on it did and a superb fin perfect roach of 1lb 4oz was brought to shore, It was so beautiful, all thoughts of carp were so far away.



I fished on for another half hour in the hope of meeting another pounder, or possibly one even bigger. Maybe a crucian or one of the giant gudgeon I’ve been told about, but it was just roach as before, although I loved each and every one of them, I had rediscovered proper fishing. At 3pm I started to pack my things away, dinner was being cooked and some of the family were visiting, the least I could to was turn up not smelling of roach.

I really can’t wait for next week to come around. I have Friday afternoon earmarked for some gudgeon fishing on the local stream, should be fun.

Waggoners - A Reunion

This weekend was always going to be a little changeable. The weather was just that, not knowing what it would do from one hour to the next. I had to be up early to take Mum and Dad to the airport, and by early I mean 4am, and Jessica was slightly under the weather so I could get a phone call at any moment to return home. But, having said all that, I still wanted to fish somewhere, I just didn’t know where.

I returned back from the airport at around 6am, sat on the couch and began to think about where to fish. It would mean carp fishing again as the float rods were still not ready to use. My sitting on the couch turned into lying as tiredness set in and soon enough I was fast asleep. I woke around 8am with Waggoners Wells on my mind, perhaps I’d dreamt about it, and with an omen like that I just had to get there.

I made a quick stop at Tesco on the way for fresh bread and some lunch and arrived at WW at a little before 9. I pulled into the little layby nobody else seems to use; this gives more direct access to the pools and cuts walking time down a tad. I peered into the first pool and it looked great, although this one is apparently devoid of fish, I could still sit here and quite happily watch a float for a morning. The light levels were perfect with a damp mist laying among the trees so I immediately set about capturing what I could with the camera before attempting to reach for a rod.



I approached the middle pond, the scene of my most recent WW captures, and spotted a few carp doing their thing out in the centre. I spent an hour or so pacing up and down, back and forth scanning the water and looking for that opportunity whilst being quite happy just to be back at the place I hadn’t fished for over a year. There seemed to be little in the way of walkers which surprised me somewhat, but I was to later find that they must have been waiting for me to get going before they came along and ruined things.

I never made a cast in that first hour, although I did set the rod up. It was time to visit the bottom pond, the pond that holds the magic for me, with carp from a forgotten time and an aura all of its own. It dawned on me that I'd not yet managed a carp from the bottom pond on vintage tackle, If only I could find a way to ban dog walkers from unleashing Lassie on top of feeding carp. The first thing I saw was an old linear mirror just to the right of the steps (around a metre or so from where I caught 'The One') rubbing its flanks on the silt but also feeding. I watched for a while until it moved off, baited the spot and continued my tour.

That’s the beauty I find at WW, it really doesn’t see much angling pressure, I think that most folk get put off by the carp’s cunning, perhaps it’s the dog walkers, perhaps it was far enough into the season that most have been and done their thing, but whatever the reason, I was more than happy to have the place to myself. I spotted two more carp looking distinctly like though they were feeding, waited for them to move off and baited these spots making three to visit and keep an eye on in rotation.

It was whilst watching these spots and looking for new ones that I met the first of the walkers, and two big Dulux dogs decided to wade into two of my spots and cool themselves off. Then a small rat looking dog jumped into the remaining one causing a huge bow wave as what was obviously a large carp spooked off. With all this happening all at once I decided to leave the bottom pond alone for a while and return to the middle pool, just for some peace of nothing else.



When I got there I spotted the opportunity I was waiting for, 8 carp in the centre of the pool seemingly mouthing at the surface. Whether they were feeding or not remained to be seen, but I find that a group of fish always gives a much better chance than a single, solitary one, so a free-lined crust was dipped and launched as far as I could get it which landed right amongst the carp without spooking them.

At first they circled under it and drifted off. After a time, I wound in the soggy lump and recast a fresh one whilst fish were in the immediate vicinity. I like to have as fresh a crust as possible out there as I’ve had them suck it clean off the hook without moving it in the past, whereas a fresher piece stays with the hook and will, ultimately, end up in their mouths. So with a new crust and renewed confidence I watched as the group of carp turned around and headed my way.

The first fish, a small common, raised in the water, nudged the bread and turned away. Just as thought it was going to be one of those days a mirror sidled up alongside the crust, thought about it for a second and then engulfed it without hesitation. I struck and the line cut at an angle though a calm pool with pace, the Mark IV arched over and the Delmatic sang. I was mindful of the obstacles the swim offered up, on either side were trees reaching into the water around three rod lengths out and the gap I was fishing through was around 12 feet across, so not ideal.

As the fish tore off to the right I ran left, lowered the rod and managed to turn it before the line became entangled. It was then I began foolishly celebrating as the fish charged the other way much quicker than I could get right and soon the line was pulled through a branch causing a horrible tangle. I tried to free the line from the branch whilst keeping the fish from going any further and causing me even more bother. Eventually the fish was just beyond the branch, I saw it roll and a dark flank and large scales made me even more determined to land this fish.

I was emptying my pockets and readying myself for going in when the inevitable happened, the fish became detached from the hook leaving me attached to the branch and nothing else. Just then a bike rider rode past behind me trying to circumvent the many twisting branches that adorn the floor; I heard a yelp and looked up as he, and his bike, rolled dangerously close to the water down the steep slope. He was fine, brushed himself off and carried on his way, but it made the loss feel a little easier knowing it wasn’t just me having a bad day.



I made one more cast as the fish still seemed to be acting in the same way, but after just one more nudge I decided to return to the bottom pool for another look. Before managing to check my earlier spots I saw a carp feeding just left of the pads a rod length from the bank. I crept into position and as it moved off I deposited some free bait on the spot. Before I could get a rod into position two more fish came through, the mirror moved away but the smaller common dipped to feed. Even my breathing was quiet, this fish was feeding inches away from my face, I could see everything, something you can put into words, some you just can’t.

When the common finally moved on I lowered the rig into position, size 4 hook, two AAA shot and a chink of luncheon meat. I sunk the line and made sure none of the rod tip projected over the water leaving nothing to chance. I sat there for an hour and not one more fish came through, how on earth they knew I was there I’ll never get to the bottom of, but they did, somehow. Whilst looking for another opportunity the phone rang, Corrinna informed me that Jessica’s temperature was high. I was back home within the hour and took her to A&E for a check over.

For the rest of the weekend we’ve been looking after Jessica and I’m pleased to say that today she is back to her old self and will restart Nursery tomorrow.

A Day with Dad...

Shocking really, to think that this weekend’s trip was the first time I’d taken Dad fishing. Having said that, with the new addition to the family fishing time has been much tighter to that of previous years. Nevertheless, I should still have found the time for a little session with Dad, he loves fishing and being a non-driver kind if relies on me.

Originally we were due to fish Headlands, Dad could catch a few carp and I could target the perch, but at the last moment I opted to switch to Vale Farm, one of my favourite day ticket waters and somewhere new for Dad, its lovely fishing somewhere for the very first time, especially somewhere as lovely as Vale farm.

I got to Dad’s around half five, made a flask of coffee and bundled the tackle into the car. We were on our way by six and drove the forty minute journey through pockets of fog which made the journey feel very atmospheric ad added to the excitement. We got there a little before seven and found a handful of cars already there, although they were folk who had been there all night.

The first thing we noticed when exiting the car was how cold it was, the car told us it was 3.5 degrees and it felt very chilly. It did mean, however, that the lakes looked amazing, full of mist and with carp splashing around in various places we couldn’t get going quickly enough.



We chose a couple of swims close together on the middle pond to start with; we had big willows either side of us and felt sure the carp would be hiding under them. I set Dad up with a newly acquired 11ft glass avon rod, a small fixed spool reel and soon he was watching a float tip which sat a foot or so from the willow fronds. Before I could get my rod out of the bag he was into the first carp of the day and he smiled wonderfully for the camera.



Once my rod was assembled I began fishing crust across to the island close to another willow tree and was soon rewarded with a nice common which fought like a tiger. Until I saw the fish I was sure it was something very big, but what it lacked in size it more than made up with character and energy.



Dad went on to catch two perch of around 8oz apiece, on luncheon meat! He missed a few bites too and after seeing me have some action with surface baits he asked me to rig him up to fish crust also. The willows here are great fish holding spots and with a few crusts just a rod length out either side of the weeping trees we sat back with a cup of coffee and waited for the fish to find the free offerings.



Carp began to surface, vortex swirls appeared at first followed by small carp snatching at the crusts, but we were waiting for the big lips that usually moved in after the scamps had their fill. Soon enough up came the better fish and after a missed strike by Dad I connected with an old common that didn’t much feel like going on a run and decided instead to just plod round and round for a few minutes before giving up.



After the common things went a little quiet. The sky had cleared but what followed was a downpour that had us rushing to get the brolly up and for the next ten minutes we were huddled underneath taking cover from the deluge. The rain subsided and with things still slow we decided on a move. The pond was getting busy with day anglers and the left hand pond had nobody fishing, so the decision was an easy one.



Almost immediately we had fish feeding, Dad went back to float fishing and I stuck with crust on the top. Dad sat concentrating on his float tip watching a series of dips and pulls, mostly due to the hordes of small roach and rudd, but also to our surprise, crayfish. The float eventually did slide away properly and with a small fish hooked he was certain he’d hooked a roach or similar. He couldn’t have been more wrong and the best looking fish of the day was brought to shore, perfection in miniature!



With the little stunner released and Dad’s swim going quiet we rigged him up once again for crust fishing and flanked the willow with one either side, which resulted in a flurry of action for both of us including a wonderful zip linear for Dad and a nice old scaly mirror for me along with a common with a lovely yellowy/gold colouration. This is what I love so much about Vale Farm, yes it can get busy at times, but with three ponds there is always a quiet corner you tuck yourself away in, and the fish are lovely, and grow to over thirty pounds too.







As always when you catch a few fish, the others seem to wise up and although they still feed, they do so in a very wary manner and seem somehow to avoid being captured. When this happens its best to move swims, so we carted the gear opposite us, now with the wind on our backs and managed to set up just in time to duck under the brolly once more and ride out another heavy shower. It gave us time to reflect upon the day, share a coffee and a blueberry muffin and work out the next move.

Once the rained passed over we scattered a few pieces of torn bread along the margin and patrolled up and down keeping low and quiet and soon spotted some interest. We noticed also that a bush close to the eater’s edge had started to shed some leaves, and that carp came up to investigate the leaves quite regularly, something very interesting I’d seen before but not really taken too much notice of.

By placing your crust next to a big leaf it was spotted by the carp quicker than if you didn’t fish next to a leaf and over the next hour or so, the last stretch of the session, we caught well with commons and mirrors, to the extent that we removed the bait when a small fish came sniffing in favour of the bigger specimens, almost selection he ones we wanted to catch.









At nearly four pm we started to reluctantly pack away, it was a superb day and wonderful to see Dad smile so much, he loved it. I promised him that I’d find a day on October to take him again, perhaps back to Vale, maybe somewhere else. He soon fell asleep and started to snore on the journey home, and once back home Mum presented us with two lovely roast dinners. What a perfect end to a perfect day.

Damn Fish!!!!

Sometimes you just want to say “Bugger!!” at the top of your voice, and this afternoon I did it, twice.

I finished work early at around 11am, headed to Tithe Barn and after parking next to just the one car in the layby I made my way along the path and to the top pond. At the head of the pond is the weedy end, and in gaps in the weed I spotted a few carp moving around. The wind was heading for me quite strongly and pretty much every cast I made (free-lined crust) went wayward. The ones that did stay on course resulted in the fish moving of course before I could drag the bait back. So, with all that and the added bonus of a mother mallard and six ducklings scurrying around all over the place, the first part didn’t go too well. But there’s always the middle pond.

The middle pond had three bivvies on the left hand bank but the head of the pool was free and after standing like a heron for a few minutes I was exciting to see a couple of fish to cast at. The first three casts I made were perfect and each resulted in the carp sucking in the hook-bait, but for some unknown reason I managed to miss each strike. The last one looked a bit special, the coloured water meant I couldn’t see properly, but I was sure it was a fully scaled mirror. I made the cast and waited a little longer for the fish to take the crust in properly,  it did and when I struck I felt an immense lunge on the rod tip.

The fish felt a god one and certainly knew how to call the shots where weed was concerned, but I was starting to get the upper hand and as the fish rolled two rod lengths out I was stunned by the sheer beauty of it. A big plated mirror of around 20lbs was boring away into the weed head down and tail waving. I reached for the net just as the hook slipped and the rod flew back over my shoulder. I threw the rod into the reeds in disgust and stomped off up the bank muttering a few unpleasant words. That loss hurt, a lot.

I stood a while longer but failed to spot anything so I had a quick fruitless peek into the bottom pond and returned to the top pond for one last try. The head of the pond was now being stalked by another angler so I concentrated on the dam end near a snaggy bush. There were ripples coming from under it and after watching a while I was certain they were carp. The trouble was, the bush was just out of casting range, unless I hooked a massive crust and dipped it, but then the carp had trouble taking it, and at that range I couldn’t see properly whether it was gone or not. God I wish I’d had some babybell wax with me.

So, a larger crust was chanced which landed a few inches off the bush. I looked at my watch and realised I’d have to be getting off in ten minutes, look struck, hoping the fish had the bit with the hook in its mouth and was soon old it was when line started to pour from the 300, and pour very fast. I held on trying to apply as much pressure as possible in the hope of slowing it down, this end of the lake is clear apart from the iron bar ad snaggy bush on the dam margin, but it isn’t too far until you reach the head of the pool and lots of weed.

Moving three swims to my right, lifting the rod high over four short trees to keep the angle, I eventually found myself winding like mad to keep up with the fish, it was headed right for me. When  made contact again it was headed back to the right and as I had so much line out I just couldn’t stop it getting dangerously close to the snaggy bush, that’s when the hook slipped out and my world came crashing down. The rod was once again thrown into the reeds and with my head in my hands I stormed along the bank muttering more choice words, I actually think I may have scared the other angler a little in doing so.

Enough was enough, when I retrieved the rod I broke it down and made my way back to the car, apologising to the other guy for my language on the way. I now have some more crust, some babybell wax and a few other things I could have done with today, and at the crack of dawn I intend to get back to the pond and put right what went horribly wrong for me today.......

PDAS 24 Hour Charity Carp Match

This weekend was the PDAS (Portsmouth & District Angling Society) 24 hour charity fundraising social match at Lakeside in Portsmouth. The match/social was fished from 3pm Saturday till 3pm Sunday with the biggest weight winning a shield and other prizes for section wins and biggest fish. 22 anglers took part with raffle donations and ticket sales taking place weeks leading up to the event. This year we have decided to support Samuel who sadly suffers from Cerebral Palsy, and requires a special operation in the USA, followed by lengthy post operation treatment in the UK.

The day came. We met in the car park, had a natter and began the banter with most of the mickey taking being aimed at the one who was going to be using vintage tackle throughout the whole 24 hours. John was also using some of his cane rods so I wasn’t alone. Once we’d drawn for swims we made our way to our swims but before getting the gear ready for the off we were treated to a wonderful BBQ and lots more banter.

As the fishing started so did the rain. It continued for 12 hours, I noticed it stop and the sky clear at 3am, I was awake due to the action I was seeing to the rods. The first take came at midnight. I was ledgering close to the bank with two rods, both hooks were baited with three grains of sweetcorn and the areas were baited with more corn and some ground-bait. The first take I had resulted in a hook pull, the next take at 01:15 resulted in the fish diving into the reeds and breaking my line. With two fish lost I felt quite dejected, it was still raining, dark and I had to re-tackle my rod.

Me beavering away to increase my catch rate…


Retackle I did and with the rods now fishing again I fell back to sleep. I woke just after 3am to another take, only I managed to land this one, and the one just before 4am. So, by morning I was tired, but had two carp with a combined weight of 6lb 11oz. Rumour was that not many fish had been caught but there was a clear leader further along the bank. I wound in and went for a walk to stretch my legs at 7am, had a natter with some friends and retuned to strike up the Kelly Kettle for a pot of tea, although finding dry kindling after 12 hours of rain didn’t help matters too much.

My camp once the rain had cleared…


Tea Time…


I happened to catch another carp of just over 4lbs at lunchtime and another of similar size around fifteen minutes before the final whistle. The match was split into two sections of 11. When we packed away and returned to the car park for the results and the raffle I was delighted to learn I’d won my section of 11 and finished 2nd place overall. Not expected but very welcome. I was heartened to see those who had entered the pools give their winnings to Samuels fund, and after a wonderful raffle we were told that we’d helped raise over £1,000 for the little lad, who was there at the presentation with his family congratulating the winners.

Samuel and his family congratulate the overall winner…


It was a superb event, well organised and with loads of fun. The fishing was fairly slow with 10 of the 22 anglers not catching any carp, the weather also seemed to be against us for the first half, but spirits remained high and we carried on enjoying ourselves nonetheless. It wasn’t really a match in the true sense of the word, although it had the tag of one, it was a gathering of souls all intent on giving something back and doing our bit for a very good cause.