LUCKY STRIKE
If there is one thing I can't be doing with it's a video or blog post that becomes a litany of 'I caught this, I caught that' lists. A string of numbers and statistics is guaranteed to make my eyes glaze over whether they are fishing related or not. What I want to read about are the thought processes and lessons learned or better still the pleasurable side of days by the water; things I can relate to or which may help me catch a few more fish. That is the main reason why my posts become sporadic at times; going through the motions, simply enjoying life while enduring a relentless string of failures and one pound Bream do not often make for an interesting read. What these otherwise uneventful days serve to do, however, is to make the unexpected successes all the more dramatic and at last, it happened. I must admit that, as we walked down the track alongside the farmer's barley, I wasn't expecting success quite on the scale that unfolded.
When we fish the 'car park' I always fish the disabled platform while Pete likes his spot by the reeds. Today for some reason he fancied the platform so we swapped places and for the first three hours I very much wished we hadn't. I couldn't buy a bite and while Pete was ekeing out the odd Perch on maggots I spent my time trying to come up with new and better excuses. By mid morning I felt that I had nothing to lose by coming in and fishing my second spot but I wasn't very optimistic I must admit.
Three missed un-missable bites later, my opinion about fishing under the rod tip had changed and after eventually showing some restraint, allowing the fish more time get its chops around the hook, line was screaming off the reel and my float was heading for the islands. Fortunately the fish veered off and now it was getting close to the tree to my right. It was all getting a bit stressful for my old cane float rod, a Robert Sealey Matchwinner. It's a lovely rod but the bottom two sections and half the top one are basically black-painted garden canes with eighteen inches of split cane stuck on the end. Those rod makers from the first half of the last century knew their stuff though and it coped admirably, better than my nerves were doing anyway.
Eventually Pete slid the net under a superb Tench of over seven pounds. The fact that it was another repeat capture was a minor disappointment but the scales were more encouraging showing a 10 oz increase since the 14th April probably due to the spawn it was carrying. Its general condition was really good but rather sadly the probable Heron stab wound to its cheek that had allowed me to identify it was showing no sign of improvement. Any road, if I never had another bite I would have been happy. My day had gone from nothing to pretty damn good, pretty damn quickly.
A couple of missed bites later and it went from pretty good to really special when a repeat performance saw Pete lift the net around a new PB of over nine pounds. Not a fish I recognised and in exceptional condition, full of spawn again but beautifully proportioned and not a boilie belly in sight.
I was by now in a bit of a daze, almost scared to cast back in for fear of ruining my average; I never have, never expected and never expect to again, ever catch two Tench for over sixteen pounds. Of course I did cast back in and when the float slid away once more and another heavy fish dived for the bottom I was confidently expecting another slogging match with long runs hither and thither, creaking cane and a squealing clutch but something was different this time. The fish stopped quite quickly and I recovered some line before the tip pulled hard down once more before the line, cutting through the willow fluff, described a couple of decreasing circles and a glorious, priceless Crucian popped to the top like a cork. Another long sought after and highly valued personal best of 2lbs 4oz put the sprinkles on the cherry on the icing on top of the cake.
My morning was over really although I missed a couple more good bites and we left for the pub at lunchtime to reflect on the value of good fortune in angling. I was lucky that Pete fancied fishing the platform leaving his usual swim available for me; lucky that I'd finally taken a leaf out of Jon Arthur's book and baited a second swim in the edge. Possibly I was lucky that I had casters going to waste that needed using up and lucky that despite the attentions of some really good anglers, fortune smiled on me today and gifted the first Crucian to my creaky old rod. All that is left now is to see how I fancy fishing on Friday but I'd be surprised if I was to fish the same swim with the same rod and the same bait. Maybe the Sealey Rover, a centrepin and bread among the bushes? Decisions, decisions!
As always my angling successes are something of shock and today's were no exception. Unlike most more successful practitioners of the art, my first decision is not 'what is the best way to catch my target' but how do I fancy fishing today and that varies according to the season, my mood or any other unpredictable whim that crosses my mind. It involves prolonged internal debate along with considerable procrastination with Pete over lunch in the pub. Which rod, which reel, carrying what breaking strain of nylon and where can we fish with the wind at our backs are questions more important to our adventures than the more sensible one of 'what do the fish require to be caught?' Last Friday I fished the pool with light tackle and bread punch for Roach and Rudd but despite catching one or two nice examples, I lost three Tench due to inadequate tackle. In truth it was something of a failure and a good example of why I will never cut it as a specimen hunter.
It is a regularly repeated truism that I catch my biggest Roach on Carp tackle and hook the most Tench while fishing for Roach and hiding within that conundrum was my plan for today. I would increase my line strength but use a Roach rod and tiny baits under very light loaded insert waggler taking just 2 no 8s. This would allow Rudd to take on the drop (they didn't) but give me a fighting chance with the Tench should the bait ever reach the bottom (which it did).
Pete and I still have a trick or two up our sleeves as yet but so far tiny naturals, namely maggots and casters along with bread punch, have proved very effective with the bigger Tench even though we have been using them to target Roach, Rudd and Crucians. I've always liked using casters in particular but I have to order them in advance which is a pain. I really wanted to fish bread today but having an unopened pint in the fridge and being too mean to just throw them away, I resigned myself to using up last Saturday's casters.
I always enjoy watching Jon Arthur's match fishing exploits on Youtube and always have a little chuckle to myself whenever he starts off by feeding about five different spots in his peg. He does it on purpose, but I do it because I can rarely get my feed in the same place twice anyway. When he starts catching though, he seems to be able to sustain his catch rate while I, feeding one spot (sort of) often catch a couple of quick fish before the swim dies for an extended period. So, another aspect of today's plan would be to fish well out as I did last week while feeding right down the edge as a fall back spot to maybe save me from yet another blank.
It is a regularly repeated truism that I catch my biggest Roach on Carp tackle and hook the most Tench while fishing for Roach and hiding within that conundrum was my plan for today. I would increase my line strength but use a Roach rod and tiny baits under very light loaded insert waggler taking just 2 no 8s. This would allow Rudd to take on the drop (they didn't) but give me a fighting chance with the Tench should the bait ever reach the bottom (which it did).
Pete and I still have a trick or two up our sleeves as yet but so far tiny naturals, namely maggots and casters along with bread punch, have proved very effective with the bigger Tench even though we have been using them to target Roach, Rudd and Crucians. I've always liked using casters in particular but I have to order them in advance which is a pain. I really wanted to fish bread today but having an unopened pint in the fridge and being too mean to just throw them away, I resigned myself to using up last Saturday's casters.
I always enjoy watching Jon Arthur's match fishing exploits on Youtube and always have a little chuckle to myself whenever he starts off by feeding about five different spots in his peg. He does it on purpose, but I do it because I can rarely get my feed in the same place twice anyway. When he starts catching though, he seems to be able to sustain his catch rate while I, feeding one spot (sort of) often catch a couple of quick fish before the swim dies for an extended period. So, another aspect of today's plan would be to fish well out as I did last week while feeding right down the edge as a fall back spot to maybe save me from yet another blank.
When we fish the 'car park' I always fish the disabled platform while Pete likes his spot by the reeds. Today for some reason he fancied the platform so we swapped places and for the first three hours I very much wished we hadn't. I couldn't buy a bite and while Pete was ekeing out the odd Perch on maggots I spent my time trying to come up with new and better excuses. By mid morning I felt that I had nothing to lose by coming in and fishing my second spot but I wasn't very optimistic I must admit.
Three missed un-missable bites later, my opinion about fishing under the rod tip had changed and after eventually showing some restraint, allowing the fish more time get its chops around the hook, line was screaming off the reel and my float was heading for the islands. Fortunately the fish veered off and now it was getting close to the tree to my right. It was all getting a bit stressful for my old cane float rod, a Robert Sealey Matchwinner. It's a lovely rod but the bottom two sections and half the top one are basically black-painted garden canes with eighteen inches of split cane stuck on the end. Those rod makers from the first half of the last century knew their stuff though and it coped admirably, better than my nerves were doing anyway.
Eventually Pete slid the net under a superb Tench of over seven pounds. The fact that it was another repeat capture was a minor disappointment but the scales were more encouraging showing a 10 oz increase since the 14th April probably due to the spawn it was carrying. Its general condition was really good but rather sadly the probable Heron stab wound to its cheek that had allowed me to identify it was showing no sign of improvement. Any road, if I never had another bite I would have been happy. My day had gone from nothing to pretty damn good, pretty damn quickly.
A couple of missed bites later and it went from pretty good to really special when a repeat performance saw Pete lift the net around a new PB of over nine pounds. Not a fish I recognised and in exceptional condition, full of spawn again but beautifully proportioned and not a boilie belly in sight.
I was by now in a bit of a daze, almost scared to cast back in for fear of ruining my average; I never have, never expected and never expect to again, ever catch two Tench for over sixteen pounds. Of course I did cast back in and when the float slid away once more and another heavy fish dived for the bottom I was confidently expecting another slogging match with long runs hither and thither, creaking cane and a squealing clutch but something was different this time. The fish stopped quite quickly and I recovered some line before the tip pulled hard down once more before the line, cutting through the willow fluff, described a couple of decreasing circles and a glorious, priceless Crucian popped to the top like a cork. Another long sought after and highly valued personal best of 2lbs 4oz put the sprinkles on the cherry on the icing on top of the cake.
My morning was over really although I missed a couple more good bites and we left for the pub at lunchtime to reflect on the value of good fortune in angling. I was lucky that Pete fancied fishing the platform leaving his usual swim available for me; lucky that I'd finally taken a leaf out of Jon Arthur's book and baited a second swim in the edge. Possibly I was lucky that I had casters going to waste that needed using up and lucky that despite the attentions of some really good anglers, fortune smiled on me today and gifted the first Crucian to my creaky old rod. All that is left now is to see how I fancy fishing on Friday but I'd be surprised if I was to fish the same swim with the same rod and the same bait. Maybe the Sealey Rover, a centrepin and bread among the bushes? Decisions, decisions!
The Master at work 😊
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