CATCHING UP.
Back in the early seventies my mates and I were given a hot tip; Wraysbury No 1 was throwing up Tench to over 4lbs. This was a revelation to us as spotty West London teenagers. Four pounds was a big Tench to us and, unbelievable as it may seem today, most other anglers as well. Of course we would head over there and try to catch one but it was and still is a very large pit indeed; over a hundred acres I believe. We caught though, not many but several over the magic four pounds; we were ecstatic especially as in our second season we began to catch fives.
Then one day I caught an humungous specimen weighing six pounds thirteen; a size equalled by, I would think, less than twenty anglers nationwide at that time and that was the very last six pound Tench I ever saw until Pete caught his eight pounder a fortnight ago. Today I caught not one but two more. Today was a good day.
His first fish today was to lead him a merry dance for a good ten minutes but he has been using this kind of tackle for donkey's years and is very good at it. Eventually I could see that a conclusion was approaching so I got out of the chair to assist with the netting. As I did so, my float slipped under and a hurried snatch at the rod saw us both playing very good tench at the same time. For a few moments chaos reigned but using my slightly heavier gear I was able to insist that my fish come to the net while Pete was still persuading his.
Eventually we got it all back under control and had a superb brace of Tench on the bank together. At 5-10 and 6-10, it was a flying start. Both were in good physical shape, no boilie bellies, just beautifully shaped, well-fed fish although mine did have an historic and unhealed hook wound to one cheek; possibly a parting gift from the carp lake that it used to live in.
If that had been it we would have been more than happy but a second flurry of bites saw a third Tench of 6-4 come to my net along with a 4oz Rudd to my hand and that was it. The wind got up a bit lowering temperatures and the pub was calling. What a great season this is becoming already, all we need to do now is find a way to catch the Crucians.
Then one day I caught an humungous specimen weighing six pounds thirteen; a size equalled by, I would think, less than twenty anglers nationwide at that time and that was the very last six pound Tench I ever saw until Pete caught his eight pounder a fortnight ago. Today I caught not one but two more. Today was a good day.
After Pete's outstanding capture, I was keen to get back to the same swims. Foolishly I'd persuaded Pete to fish the shallows on our previous fruitless visit and I really wanted to be fishing a swim that we knew was definitely being visited by big fish. The weather however had other ideas and a cool wind was blowing straight into those swims so we settled for the far more comfortable and heavily fished car park area instead. I can't honestly say that I was optimistic; apart from a few small roach they had been pretty unproductive so far but once the angler reaches a certain stage in life the dubious pleasures of fishing into the wind diminish rapidly. Comfort trumps endeavour.
Flicking a dozen maggots around the float every few minutes is our chosen approach so early in the season. In fact it has been my sole approach on various stillwaters since last November/December producing a steady stream of pound plus Perch throughout the colder months and a fair few Tench and one nice Crucian as the sun has climbed higher. Two on a sixteen seems to work well for everything but while I have abandoned my 1 lb hooklengths in favour of something a bit stronger at The Pool, Pete has resisted that urge in a determined attempt to catch Roach and more especially, those elusive Crucians.
His first fish today was to lead him a merry dance for a good ten minutes but he has been using this kind of tackle for donkey's years and is very good at it. Eventually I could see that a conclusion was approaching so I got out of the chair to assist with the netting. As I did so, my float slipped under and a hurried snatch at the rod saw us both playing very good tench at the same time. For a few moments chaos reigned but using my slightly heavier gear I was able to insist that my fish come to the net while Pete was still persuading his.
Eventually we got it all back under control and had a superb brace of Tench on the bank together. At 5-10 and 6-10, it was a flying start. Both were in good physical shape, no boilie bellies, just beautifully shaped, well-fed fish although mine did have an historic and unhealed hook wound to one cheek; possibly a parting gift from the carp lake that it used to live in.
If that had been it we would have been more than happy but a second flurry of bites saw a third Tench of 6-4 come to my net along with a 4oz Rudd to my hand and that was it. The wind got up a bit lowering temperatures and the pub was calling. What a great season this is becoming already, all we need to do now is find a way to catch the Crucians.
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