Dreams and nightmares

Despite the carp not being difficult to catch at the Railway Pond the challenge lies in trying to avoid the small ones. With that in mind Monday evening saw me arriving as the rain began to ease off determined to fish bottom baits as there had always been too many ravenous micro-carp attacking anything that floated on the surface. Feathers, weed, bits of plastic with hooks in them. Anything. Sorting out a better fish off the top was a lottery.

Needless to say when I scanned the water there were carp cruising and basking in one corner. None of them the micro-carp. Where was my surface fishing gear? At home... I'd have to stick to plan A. It didn't go to plan though. The rain had coloured the already coloured water even more so I wasn't able to fish my baits on the line where the bottom disappeared, which is where the better fish seem to cruise. But I did my best by fishing close to the reeds with baits that were too big for the micros to get in their tiny mouths and too hard for them to whittle away. It didn't deter the not-quite-micros. A couple of takes were aborted, one fish was hooked ad landed. It wasn't the size I was after, but I hadn't blanked.

Tuesday saw me itching to get out  fishing and feverishly checking the weather forecast to find the driest window for an overnighter. Tuesday looked the best chance. I fancied a tench session but without any hemp, and leaving it too late to go get some I had a last minute change and swapped the tench rods for the carp rods and threw a bag of 6mm halibut pellets in the bait bucket.

It was getting on when I pushed my barrow to the Petting Zoo, my swim choice being made on the basis of comfort as much as anything. Comfort and an overhanging marginal bush to my left. The bush spot got liberally laced with pellets and the sure-fire pop-up plastic pellet got dropped over them. More pellets went out by catty to my right, a little further out, and to buoyant grains of plastic corn were swung out there. The middle rod had a wafter on the hair and a small bag of pellets on the hook. This was cast straight out as far as I could manage simply because a daft carp had jumped out of the lake a couple of times in that direction.

The air was still, the lake flat calm, roach were topping, grebes chasing each other. A kingfisher flashed by. A family of mallards, the ducklings tiny, avoided me. These were nice to see as only the other day I'd been thinking I'd only seen a couple of ducklings this year, and they were only seen once. Were there predators at work on the lake? Fingers crossed for this brood.

Everything was in place and the kettle on by nine thirty. Still warm enough for just the t-shirt it was feeling muggy. Thinking there might be a chance of rain I'd taken the Groundhog. Not much food though. My intention being to pack up around eight in the morning. Grub consisted of a Mars bar and four Northern Energy Bars (Chorley Cakes!). There was an emergency tin of beans and sausage just in case the fish fed like mad and I had to stay on longer than anticipated.

Roland came to see me, picking up pellets I'd dropped by the rods. He didn't keep me awake and I was dozing by twelve thirty when an alarm woke me. It was one of those go up and hold, drop back, go up, hold bites that Brenda and Brian give so I took my time getting to the rod. Sure enough Brian had picked up the corn and was too lazy to move the three ounce lead.

A quick refreshing of the pellets and back to the Land of Nod. When I awoke I was wondering why I wasn't at the lake I'd just caught two small carp from. Coming round I realised debating whether they were worth weighing before I slipped them back had all been a dream. Almost four and the dawn chorus was in full voice. Brew. Energy Bar. Get up, rebait and recast.

Try as I might I couldn't get back to sleep. The grebes were still being aggressive to each other. They can't half shift when they swim just below the surface making a bow wave. They also make a hell of a racket running along the surface to escape! The sounder made a bit of a racket just after five thirty when the middle rod came alive. The rods were angled down and it's tip pulled up as the baitrunner spun furiously. The weight on the end of the line felt as lively as a bream but considerably heavier. The fish did nothing all the way in then went daft in the margin fouling the line of the corn rod. I had to cut the line on the wafter rod and wind the corn rod in. Ending up cutting both lines and starting from scratch after weighing and returning a mirror with a nasty round lesion on one flank. With the mess sorted out I got everything back in place.

Half an hour later I pulled out of something that had picked up the wafter. Forty minutes later that rod produced a three pound plus roach/bream, which felt rather like the fish that had come adrift. By now I could see plenty of bubbling in the area the three bites had come from. Not the sort of bubbles that come up without assistance from the bottom, but clouds of fishy bubbles. It had to be worth putting a second bait out there. I wound the corn in and swapped it over to a pop-up boilie on a rig that no self respecting carper would use.

 Less than half an hour after casting the two longer range baits out the wafter was off again. A repeat performance ensued with the double figure common coming to life in the margins. It really fought above its weight. I was knelt by the rods trying to drag it into the waiting net when... ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ.
Nightmare. The pop-up had been picked up and definitely not by Brenda!

The gloves came off and the common netted. With one foot on the landing net pole I picked up the right hand rod and began to drag the offending fish in. It went solid. I kept the pressure on. It wagged its tail and came free. The weed is coming up now, sparse and grassy at the moment it's easily broken out of. There was no messing about with this fish. The hook was a big 'un so I could give it some stick without worry. Although this one felt a bit heavier it didn't get a chance to do the margin dance. Head up and in the net at the second attempt. It would have gone in first time I'd I hadn't misjudged things. Thankfully the common had sunk down low and was sulking. Lift the net and inspect the chaos. No option but to cut both lines and lift the pair on to the mat.

A quick weigh for the common and slip it back. The fat mirror was going to have its photo taken when I'd got things back to normal.

I got the baits out and put the kettle on for a brew to chill. That lasted until two tench in ten minutes or so created more chaos. Baits back out and finish the brew. Right. Set the camera up, wind the rods in, take the photos. Simple. The tripod and mat were in place, I'd taken a test shot. One rod was wound in. The second was off again! If the camera hadn't been ready to go I'd not have bothered taking a selfie with that tench, but it would be practice for the carp.

Wind the third rod in and struggle with the fat, slimy bugger. Check the photos on the screen. Wipe the muck off the lens and take a couple more. Watch the fish waddle off and get the rods out again.

I have the feeling that while I was messing about with the camera the feeding spell had ended. A light breeze had sprung up and was ruffling the surface. At least I got some peace. The eight o'clock deadline was already passed, so I extended it until ten. That was until another bream came along, this time to the wafter, as I started to tidy things up. One more brew then off at ten thirty unless the fish thought I should stick around for lunch. They didn't. With one of my targets for this summer ticked off I can get the eel rods out now. Or I could get myself some hemp and have another go for the tench. They don't look to have spawned yet.

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Of mice and rats

Bank Holiday Mondays are usually off my list of fishing days, but when the last one was warm and sunny I couldn't resist trying for some evening tench. My first choice swim was occupied but number two was free. The usual rigs and baits went out with the usual bags of pellets followed by sprinklings of pellets over the baits as they were all being fished close in. Around seven, as the cooling wind began to drop, fish started to roll and bubble. The new bobbins remained motionless. So I took more photos of them to relieve the boredom!

Whitethroats were active in the hawthorn, singing and flitting about. A song thrush perched on high and sang it's little heart out. A swan drifted gracefully by and picked up one of my baits. I wound that one in and whacked it out to deeper water.

Pacing around behind my swim I found the remains of a rat. The decaying corpse didn't stop it's relatives from scurrying around behind me when the sun had set. A few minutes before packing up time there were a couple of bleeps to the long chuck rod. Most likely liners. I was glad that the growing cloud cover was keeping the evening warm - because I'd left my fleece at home.It was encouraging to drive home in the dark with the thermometer reading still in double figures, even if the chippy was closed when I past by.

Work did its usual trick of keeping me occupied through the week. Which wasn't a problem as the rain had returned. Thursday was as sunny as it had been forecast to be but I didn't rush to get the rods out. The last few sessions hadn't seen much fish activity until seven so I felt there was little reason to rush.

Two of the rigs were simply retied to ensure reliable knots and cast out inside their pellet bags. The other rig got changed a little. I had been wondering if a longer hooklink might be worth a try and had tied one up in advance. My thinking being that four inch hooklinks might be burying the baits in the bottom weed. That rig got a different bait attached and was lobbed out to a nice looking gap in the pads to my left. The others were out in open water and near some pads on the right.

Almost as soon as I'd sat down the right hand bobbin dropped a fraction then remained still. Twenty minutes before seven it dropped again, then jiggled and rose before falling back once more. The result was a be-tuberculed bream around the three pound mark.

It was twenty past eight before the middle bobbin dropped slightly. This open water fish proved to be a hybrid a pound or so smaller than the previous two this season. Despite the surface going calm as the light faded and the wind dropped very little was showing in the way of fish. A bream had rolled in front of me but the only other fish topping were small roachy things. Bubbles were notable for their absence. Strange considering the conditions as the wind had been blowing not the bank I was fishing from all day. I was glad to have remembered my fleece this time because I needed it. Sure enough the car's thermometer was reading in single figures on the way home.

The tench, which are what I'm trying to catch, are continuing to play hard to get.I've heard of one or two being caught, and more being lost, but they're keeping well away from me. Maybe they'll wake up next week if the temperature rises as forecast.

Back at the work bench I've been dealing with the effects of mice on rod handles. I had a call from someone who had had mice nesting in his rod bag during the winter, making their nest from chewed up cork and Duplon - which must have provided fine insulation for them! In the tradition of the before and after photos you see of slimmers I photographed the ravaged handles in an unflattering way, and made a better attampt for the after pic...

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Rats, bats and bags

With nothing caught there's been nothing to write about. I tried for the roach again and failed miserably on a warm and sunny afternoon and evening session. I was on the verge of packing up early when a roach actually rolled over my bait tempting me stop on until it was cold and going dark. I did spot some carp though, which looked like they'd be easy to catch. Of course, when I returned a couple of days later they had done a disappearing act, but hoping that pretending to fish for carp I might catch a tench I gave it a go. And failed miserably on all counts. One more blank and it would be three strikes and out.

Luckily the first test in the West Indies distracted me and I didn't feel the urge to wet a line until yesterday afternoon, when with no work to be getting on with until more blanks arrived, and the sun shining again, I took the same 'carp' gear and bait for another outing because I was too lazy to swap the two rods for my three tench rods in the quiver. Not to mention that I'd only replaced two of the batteries in my three cheap and cheerful alarms...

I had an early tea and timed my getaway to coincide with the lunch break so as to miss none of the cricket. There were two grains of popped up fake corn over a sprinkling of pellets in the margin, and a 12mm Pellet-O in a bag of pellets on a long chuck by five thirty. Just in time for the start of the afternoon session at the test. I picked up the new Sonubaits catalogue/magazine the other day and it looks like the 12mm Pellet-Os have been dropped. Bloody typical.

Although the air temperature was a reasonable 12 the wind had a hint of north in it. Despite picking a swim that wasn't facing into the wind I was still getting chilled by it. I should have wrapped up warmer. The birds were unphased and a blackbird and a chaffinch were taking turns singing for one particular high hawthorn branch. I heard the inevitable chiffchaff and saw a number of groups of swallows passing over heading north. Great crested grebes were behaving in a way I've not witnessed before. Bow waving at speed like fast moving carp. They were also chasing each other about. I think one pair was nest building and another bird was intruding. With the first blackthorn blossoms starting to show I was hoping the tench would too.

These days I'm a far more impatient angler than I used to be. If nothing has happened after half an hour I start to get twitchy. After an hour's inactivity I start to get bored. I reckon that's why I am far more mobile in my pike fishing these days than I used to be.But the plan was to leave both baits out until they got picked up.

It was just gone seven when I saw the left hand, distance, bobbin drop back an inch then rise again. I was by the rod as the bobbin dropped like as stone and lifted into something that took a bit of line against the clutch. The damned clutch was too slack! After a couple of thumps whatever it was came in easily just like that tench the other week. This fish didn't wake up when it saw the net. Bream rarely do. Still, it was a start and I wasn't quite so bored.

A fresh bait'n'bag went out and I settled into listening to the cricket, watching the wildlife and scanning the water for signs of fish. Earlier I'd seen my first rat of the year, as dusk fell I spotted my first bats. Summer is on its way! I can never tell the difference between willow warblers and chiffchaffs unless I hear them sing. One or the other flitted past me and paused briefly in a bankside bush. The wind dropped a little after swinging more to the north, which didn't do much to warm me. Small fish had been topping all over the place in ones and twos from about six, and carried on until dark. No bubbles were seen and no bigger fish rolling. I started to get bored again...

It was half-eight when the bobbin on the margin rod lifted as the line tightened, dropped back, lifted and held, then sort of jiggled. Something had hooked itself. In the fading light it looked like a bream half the size of the first fish. In the net it looked more like a roach/bream hybrid. It was a plumpster whatever it was.

I cleaned the weed off the plastic baits and swung the rig back out for the last half hour. By nine I had had enough. Thoughts of tench were starting to buzz in my head. Even a cunning plan was starting to form. Trouble is there might be another eely distraction on the horizon. What I need to do is get organised.

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Before the rain came

Somehow or other I managed to get up early and to the water by four, rods out by half past. With the forecast being for the heavy showers of rain and hail accompanied by thunder and lightning I wanted to be doing the return journey before ten. All was quiet and still as I walked to the swim I had in mind. It was so warm that the fleece had to come off before I got the rods set up and the hemp fired out to left and right.

Rigs and baits were as usual. They're not working for the tench but I had no other options. The corn went to the right, a pellet to the left, both on in-line lead rigs. The third rod was cast straight out almost as far as I could manage. This was a helicopter rig baited with a pellet and the lead dropped in a small bag of mixed pellets.

Since last time out I'd re jigged the helicopter rig a little. I'd found a packet of some Korda quick change clips which looked like they'd do for attaching the lead to. It's only on helicopter rigs that I remove the leads when packing up. In-line leads pull off the swivel, slide down the line and nestle in the pocket of the quiver. The other modification I wanted to make was to do away with the bottom braid stop so the hooklink was trapped directly above the lead as this makes it a better set up for use with a bag in my experience. The John Roberts Buffer Bead sleeves the link and makes for a bottom stop the lower hard plastic bead can rest on. Everything else is as before.

With the attention I'd had over past sessions from unwanted bream I didn't feed any loose pellets with the hemp. I've never associated bream with hemp on its own, so my hope was they'd stay away from the two close range rods, and I'd take my chance on the distance rod and it's bag of bream food.

After an hour I started to get twitches to the left hand rod. Possibly liners. A few bubbles appeared over the hemp too. A breeze had sprung up making it a little cooler so the fleece had gone back on. Fifteen minutes later the rod pulled round and the bobbin dropped back. At first I thought I felt the jagging of a tench, but it soon turned into the dead weight of a bream. Not a big one either. I popped the hook out with the fish in the water and slipped it over the net cord.

Rods were rebaited and recast. More hemp fired out over the close range baits. A common tern flew around diving occasionally for small fry. Reed warblers chased each other over the margins. Sedge warblers chattered away. I drank tea.

An hour after the first signs of activity the middle rod was in action. If the line pulling tight can be classed as action. A four ounce roach was wound in and returned. It was only twenty minutes before the same rod showed a more positive indication - a short pull on the line followed by a big drop-back. That couldn't be a roach or a bream. On the longer line it seemed to be fighting a bit too. As it came closer it got more breamy. Rolling into the net it was still a bit breamy, a bit roachy too. As hybrids tend to be.

Another half hour passed. A light rain shower made me get the brolly up. A few minutes later it was down again, laid on the ground at the ready just in case. The middle rod was away again this time to a small bream. A slightly larger bream took the other pellet at ten to eight. Then things went quiet and I started to plan my escape as it was looking black over Bill's mother's.

Sure enough rain began to spatter the water. Having seen no signs of tench it seemed wise to get away before I got wet. I was back home having a brew when there was a cloudburst. Four hours later and that's been the sum total of the vile weather that was promised. A bit of drizzle has all that's been falling so far. It might turn up later I suppose.

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Carp, carp, carp

In a fit of madness I joined a carp syndicate. It seemed like a good idea at the time. The water is reputed to hold some big eels. Full of enthusiasm I even attended a work party. The youngsters were more suited to doing the work so I watched them and drank tea. It fired me up to get the eel rods out early though, and a few days later, after an early tea, I set up the pod to fish off a horrible platform, while carp cruised around all over the surface and right under the rod tips.

The start of the warm weather must have addled my brain. After a couple of hours I had had enough but stuck it out until dark for one pull to the right hand rod. It might have developed into something if I'd not left my drop-offs at home. then again it could well have been a carp picking up the worms. I didn't enjoy the place much. Too many carp anglers (three) and dog walkers (lots) for my liking! Still, when the tench have spawned then a night or two on the place might be in order.

By Saturday I was thinking of tench again and boiled up some more hemp to lace with the corn I'd stocked up with. Being uncertain of where to fish I set off without the tackle for a look around. As I approached the peg I'd fished last time out a fish bolted from the margins. I crept closer and another swirled while one cruised past the edge of the swim. It looked like a decent tench but without my shades it was hard to say. Further on a group of mid-size carp were milling about near some pads. At least there were fish moving in the area.

What a difference a week makes, though. While there had been bottom weed about between the groups of lilies there was open surface water last time I'd fished. this time the whole place was choked beyond under-arm lobbing distance. Three swims were unfishable without the use of a rake. At least the swim I'd seen fish in was clear enough close in to get three baits out. Casting around with the rigs it was obvious that the clear spots on the bottom were small. It had to be PVA foam on all baits.

The in-line maggot feeder got the floating plastic maggots, the slow sink plastic corn on the helicopter got put on a long hooklink, and the pellet got dropped in the edge on a clear spot. Despite a liberal dose of hemp, corn and mixed pellets over all three baits the bobbins never moved. Few bubbles suggested fish feeding in the area. I fished until it was well dark and not even the rats came out to play. Another angler had caught a tench in a different area, which gave me some hope.

Sunday saw me wandering round the lake with my 'roids on sure of spotting some carp if nowt else. I saw one cruising, and more appeared to be spawning, or getting ready to. Even so I saw enough to make me chance a session in clearer water this morning. If I could drag myself out of bed.

Somehow I managed to get up at four and hit the road. The day was dawning during the drive, with the side window open I was accompanied by the dawn chorus all the way to the lake. There was a light mist hovering in a ban over the fields. An almost full, but waning, moon high in the clear sky. It felt tenchy.

On my way to my anticipated swim I passed an area where carp had gathered to spawn and saw signs of them swirling under the pads. It looked kind of tenchy there, but I knew it was weedy as hell. I wanted some cushy fishing for a change. With pads and weed to my right, open water in front and more pads in the left margin I chucked a feeder round to suss out the weed situation. Clear! That would do for me. I fed right and left with a couple of pints of hemp, corn and pellets before altering the rigs a little. Off with the popped up maggots and back on with the sinking casters, away with the long hooklink for the corn and back to a short one. The pellet rod only needed a fresh bait putting on the hair. With the baits in place I sat back to watch the sun rise, the mist swirl and look out for signs of tench.

It was less than an hour before the right hand feeder rod top was twitching and the alarm bleeping intermittently. Something small had hooked itself. It turned out to be a roach-bream hybrid of a pound or more. Not quite what I was hoping for, but after five blanks on the bounce it was most welcome. The tubercles on its head and rough feeling scales suggest it might be ready to spawn, or perhaps, like the bream at the carp lake, already spawned.

Something else tried to hang itself on that rig, but got free before I could get to the rod. Bubbles over the feed to the right encouraged me to keep topping the swim up with more hemp. The day and the fish were waking up. For all that's romantically written about tench feeding on still, warm, misty dawns I've found they prefer the sun on the water. Sure enough it hadn't long climbed above the tall willows when the right hand rod, fishing a pellet at right angles to the rod tip, hooped round decisively. So decisively that before I could pick it up it had bounced off the alarm!

The fish had weeded me, but steady pressure got it moving and it plodded to the right and out into the lake. I had a horrible feeling it might be a carp by the way it hugged the bottom and kept going. When it was in front of me and I applied some pressure it gave a tell-tale tench wiggle. I think it might have been balled up in weed to start with, because when I got it coming up in the water a couple of stalks dropped from the line. There wasn't much of a fight and the female tench was easily netted. A small but solid fish, beginning to fill out with spawn.

On with a fresh pellet and top up both swims with more hemp and pellets. Shortly after the tench I had another of those jangly bites that refused to run or drop back. This time to the pellet. Another surprise capture. A half pound roach.

As the morning hotted up, my fleece had been abandoned before six, more patches of bubbles appeared over the right hand baited area. The corn rod tip nodded. There were fish in the swim. A tench had rolled in the weed beyond the pads. Hopes were rising.

It got warmer, a breeze ruffled the water for a few minutes before giving up. A scum of willow pollen and fallen catkins coated the surface, reminding me of days when it had blown onto the lines almost clogging them on other venues. This set me thinking about tench baits. For some reason I'd prefer not to catch them on pellets, but I have to admit there have been waters where the maggot feeder and plastic caster approach hasn't worked for me. It's not fared too well for the tench on this lake so far, but pellets have. It might be time to fish two rods on the pellets and one on corn.

With ten o'clock approaching I packed away most of my gear. The weighsling was almost dry, as was the net. Ten would be my cut-off time. No sooner said than the middle rod got all jangly. A more robust sort of jangly than the roach and the hybrid had managed. The two grains of plastic corn had worked again. Whatever it was felt heavyish. It was plodding like the tench had. However, when it decided to pop to the surface, roll over and surrender it was obviously a bream.

Not a huge bream, but a nicely conditioned, brassy-flanked, six pounder. Another half hour was in order. I could manage that long without food. The last of the bait went out, followed by the rigs.

A couple of newly emerged damselflies fluttered into the hawthorns which are starting to show signs of going over now. The guelder rose is starting to bloom, to be followed by the elder, by which time summer will be upon us.

With no bites coming in the last thirty minutes I packed up, again, and sweated my way back to the car.

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Festive fun

Yesterday had been drier than predicted and had me wishing I'd ventured out instead of getting on with my decluttering. Then again if I don't declutter I'll end up burying myself under junk. This is my New Year resolution come early. I can only face it in small doses though. The rain on the windows at dawn made me think I'd another day of tidying. naturally I rose late and began avoidance tactics by listening to the radio and surfing the interwebs. I even packed an order that arrived via the web knowing full well it wouldn't get posted until Thursday.

Then I noticed the sky brightening and looking at my garden pond I saw the rain had ceased. This was either a break in the showers or the day was fairing up for good. Whatever the case it was my cue to get the gear ready and pack my Christmas lunch.

It's funny how catching a few fish brings a renewal in enthusiasm. Not only was I raring to get back after the roach I'd tied up more hooklinks to stock up the rig board yesterday evening.

The roads were quiet as I drove past waterlogged fields before turning into the now familiar hawthorn lined lane to the lake. The obvious place to fish was where I'd caught from last time out. There was a niggling doubt in my mind about this choice. It seemed a bit too obvious. Still, I'd give it a try and fish a different spot next time regardless.

With all the worms gone the third, sleeper, rod was rigged up to fish a 30g method feeder and 10mm boilie. The method mix comprising the remains of the hemp and pellets with some added Hem and Hali Crush. This would also be used to top up the maggot feeders. The sleeper was to be cast out as far as it would go, the maggot feeders to fish the same line as before.

Although I'd made a late start I was still fishing earlier than any of my previous sessions. That meant I had to wait a couple of hours before tucking into my festive pack-up.

The rig that had landed the majority of fish last time had got in a sorry state. The lower float stop was no longer gripping. This gave me a chance to try out a revamp of The Rig using new components. Korum have had Ready Heli rigs on the market for some time but I only got round to buying a packet a few weeks back. They make it much easier to put The Rig together as the stops and swivel are all lined up on the one wire loop meaning it's a single operation to get the job done. I'd gone for the version with a quick change swivel and everything slid nicely into place on the powergum. Using the smallest loop tyer I have gives my hoolinks a really neat finish neatly topped off by the tapered sleeve. Even if it wouldn't impress the fish it looked good.

The sky had brightened and it was warm enough not to need my fingerless fleece mittens. A kingfisher zipped over the rod ends and round the margin of the lake. The bobbins remained static. Looking west, from where the light wind was blowing, I could see the horizon was dark. Rain was on its way. Sure enough the first few spots heralded a shower. The brolly went up in good time to keep me and my bait dry. After less than an hour the rain was passing. The sun tried to break through and tiny patches of pale blue appeared between the clouds. The bobbins remained static.

I kept the bait going in, recasting the maggot feeders every fifteen minutes or so. A grebe started to work an area to my left and about fifty yards out. I watched it pondering how rarely I see them actually catch anything when up it popped fish in beak. A roach of a size that made it difficult for the bird to swallow.

This gave me some hope despite the fish being smaller than I was hoping to catch at least there were some fish around. I wound in the sleeper rod and swapped the boilie rig for a short hooklink with an 18 on the end. A red maggot went on the hook and the feeder was leathered out to the line the grebe had caught from. As nothing was happening on the two rigs fishing closer in I slowed down the recasting and left them out for half an hour or more at a time. It made no difference.

It was getting pas three now, the wind had picked up and swung more to the west than the south. It even veered north for a brief while threatening to chill me and bring a dark cloud my way. The brolly had been taken down when the sun shone. It went back up and saved me from the few light spots that fell. Then it was taken down again as the day went back to being bright and dry as the wind swung back west.

It was completely unexpected when an alarm sounded and even more unexpected that it was the right hand alarm with the sleeper rod resting on it. The bobbin had dropped back a couple of inches. I picked the rod up and felt a decent weight which made a couple of surges as I pumped it back before going inert. Close in the fish woke up again, looking like a good one at the first glimpse of silver. As it slid into the net it was obvious that one of its parents hadn't been a roach. It looked 'wrong'. Oh well, it was a fish. Which is always better than a blank.

I find roach/bream hybrids are much easier to tell from true roach than roach/rudd hybrids. Roach/bream look to have too many scales. That's the first thing I notice. Closer inspection reveals the longer anal fin, the more bream-like body shape, the shorter bottom lip and the paler fins. The blue sheen to the back could be deceptive but is accompanied by a brownish tinge in certain lights. Compared to the roach I caught on Sunday (and I'm pretty sure they were roach) this hybrid was also a lot narrower in cross-section. Another bream-like trait.

Despite this slight disappointment I was encouraged that something was feeding. With the light starting to fail my confidence for a last knockings flurry of activity was raised. Only to be dashed as I fished until the head torch was required to pack up.

Maybe it was the clearing sky or the fullish moon that kept it light for longer today. Or maybe being just those few days past the shortest of the year has made a perceptible difference. Whatever the truth I was glad to be packing up later than on my last few sessions and was looking forward to my next assault on the lake. I'm not too happy with the method feeder rig for smallish fish and would really prefer to fish another powergum rig with a cage feeder.  That'll have to wait until the tackle shop opens up again on Thursday as the only cage feeders I have are big heavy ones. or maybe I could take a hacksaw to one of the blockends and use that?

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Pick of the year

Well, that's another year's fishing over. For the first time in a long time ending in a big freeze. Although I had been hoping for some prolonged cold weather to target chub this winter I hadn't wanted it this cold for so long - and predicted to continue. I nipped out mid-morning today and it was -2c and foggy, by late afternoon it was still -2c and foggy!

At least the fishing this year didn't grind to such a complete standstill as last year did. I started barbel fishing later but caught more, larger and for longer. The year had started slowly, but I made more better decisions and was more flexible than I have been in the past, so carried on catching fish by shifting my targets. You never stop learning.

Spring and summer were difficult owing to the ever changing weather with hardly two consecutive days the same. Even so I managed to catch some nice fish. After a season of bad timing on one river in 2007 I managed to get it right more often than not this time round, as my barbel results show. But where have the chub gone? Usually a few have come along to the barbel rods. This season (so far) they have been a rarity.

I'm not making any firm plans for the coming year but I do have a couple of new venues in my sights. If I can up a few more PBs along the way I'll be happy. Then again, I'll be happy if I catch more often than I blank. Unfortunately for the blog the issue of publicity bans cropped up this year and will be a factor in the coming months too.

Gagged

That doesn't stop me looking back at some of my fishy highlights of 2008.

• Barbel - 14-03 [pb]
• Bream - 11-02
• Carp - dnw
  
• Chub - 5-09
• Dace - 0-07 [pb]
  
• Golden Orfe - 2-00 [pb]
• Grayling - dnw, but bigger than the one I caught last year! [pb]
• Perch - 3-05
• Pike - 16-02
• Roach/Bream Hybrid - 5-06 [pb]
• Roach/Rudd Hybrid - 3-04
• Roach - 1-10 [pb]
• Rudd - dnw
• Sea trout - dnw [out of season]
  
• Tench - 7-04 (m) [pb], 9-03 (f)

[pb]= personal best, dnw = did not weigh (i.e. small!),(m) = male, (f) = female

Quite a satisfying list by my standards.

All the best for 2009.

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La indecisión me molesta

After fighting the weed at the weekend I didn't really feel like tench fishing and was stuck for an idea what to do. The problem with becoming an 'all-rounder' is that there are just too many options! Tuesday was wasted in indecision, so by lunchtime on Wednesday I was in the car heading for the tackle shop and some bait. Although I still didn't know where I was going or what I was after catching. I had plenty of groundbait, bought some maggots, and still was clueless!

After a chat with my mate in the shop I decided it was bream or bust. A few hours later the indecision was about which swim to choose as I had the entire lake to myself. I plumbed the shallows, which were fairly weed free reasonably close in and the wind was off my back - which was handy as I managed to cast off my plumbing float...

Like a fool I decided that it would be better to fish the opposite bank. On arrival there the weed was pretty thick, but I found that at forty to fifty yards it was clear, and there was around nine foot or more of water. I mixed up a couple of kilos of groundbait and balled it in, leaving enough behind for adding to the method feeders. Then I spodded out some pellets, set the rods up and settled in for the night.

It had been warm and sunny when I arrived but it clouded over at dusk. Although this meant I was able to sleep wearing my bunny suit under the bedchair cover it also meant that the dawn was grey, and showery.

The night had passed surprisingly uneventfully. Although I wasn't after them a tench had rolled in front of the rods before dark. However it may have been a prelude to sexual shenanigans as I am pretty sure I saw tench spawning when the light had faded enough for the head torch to be required. It was certainly too dark to be 100% sure what was writhing in the marginal weed.

I hadn't set the alarm, but still awoke shortly after first light. After the usual cup of tea I rebaited and recast then nodded off again. What befell my eyes when I awoke didn't fill me with glee. I'd been robbed of groundbait. By ducklings... The greedy little half-grown beggars had scoffed the lot, and paddled their muddy little feet all over the groundbait bowl and my catty!

I've been robbed!

They were unrepentant too, and weren't for being told to **** off - just coming back for more as soon as I turned my back. When I mixed up another bag of feed I made sure the bowl was duckproof.

Thwarted!

During the morning I swapped rigs around. One rod fished The Rig with an eighteen and two maggots to see if there were any roach or hybrids about while the baits on the other two rods were varied between pellet, fake corn and 10mm pineapple boilie - all baits that could pick up almost anything. It was noon before a smallish roach fell for the maggots. At least I hadn't blanked.

Better than nowt.

A slightly larger skimmer came along around three, but it was pretty quiet. More bait went out in preparation for the hours of darkness; groundbait, maggots, pellets and seeds. The spodding process was carried out in two periods. Not for any carefully thought out reason, but because I cracked the spod off and had to wait for it to drift back into the bank before recommencing the bombardment. That's the second time it's happened and I reckon it's time to step up the line on the spodding reel. Although I use a shock leader it is the shock of the line hitting the clip that seems to be causing the leader knot to fail. Back to the 30lb Power Pro, methinks.

I was confident that a pellet, a boilie or the fake corn would be picked up by something in the night. Untroubled by nagging doubts I was asleep well before midnight, and again didn't need the sleeping bag. At twenty five past four in the morning I was staggering out to the rods, trying to get my specs on and remain upright before determining which rod had caused the remote sounder to disturb my slumber. It turned out to be the middle rod fishing the boilie and the culprit looked more like a roach than not to my inexpert eyes.

Roach?

Or not?

The helicopter rod was converted from a pellet/bag rig to a maggot/feeder. The hook was a size 14 Animal and four red maggots were crammed on to it and a piece of red rig foam trimmed to give a slow sink. This produced a small roach/bream hybrid an hour later that had had a lucky escape from a small pike by the looks of things, followed by an equally small roach. The day tried to warm up, so I donned my waders and searched the margins for my missing marker float. And found it in the reeds near the next swim!

With that I called it quits while I was ahead.

Title-link

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Slow progress

It was back into the bunny suit after the brief heatwave. Not only was there a north-easterly blowing but there was also rain around. I managed to get set up in the dry after pondering my swim selection on the basis that nobody was catching much. The decision was made more on a whim than anything, selecting a deeper swim that hadn't been fished this season as far as I know. I kept the baiting to a minimum and cast three rods out all fishing different baits. Two method feeders were set up one fishing the standby of two grains of plastic corn, the other a 10mm pineapple Boosted Wrap. The third rod fished a maggot feeder with two plastic casters on the hair.

Unusually there were lots of small fish topping all along the bank from a few yards out to maybe thirty yards. Small fish don't often show on this lake, although I have had one day in three seasons that they have been a nuisance on the maggot rod. Grebes, terns and pike were making the most of this abundance of prey, all obviously catching small roach by the looks of things.

The first night was quiet. Not a peep from the alarms. Before dark I had swapped the Boosted Wrap for three 6mm Tutti boilie pellets, and when I started to wind them in in the morning a small pike of around two pounds grabbed them. Two red maggots were added to the bare hook on the plastic caster rig, and it wasn't long before a small roach was landed. Plenty of bites came to this rod, most failing to result in hooked fish. If I had scaled things down I'm sure that a number of small roach could have been had on single maggot. But that wasn't what I was after. Around noon the caster/maggot rod produced a bream of some five pounds, followed by another little roach.

Then, out of the blue, the alarm on the middle rod (fishing the corn) screamed out, and my best tench of the season so far was landed. Not fully filled out yet she was a sleek seven pounder. As I was weighing the tench the caster/maggot alarm bleeped once. The tench was sacked while I set up the camera and as I did so the line on the caster/maggot rod tightened and I pulled into what felt like a heavy bream. In the shallows it swirled and took some line, then all went slack. The hooklink had been bitten through. Pike. I guess that first bleep had been a roach hooking itself, to be taken by one of the pike patrolling the area.

The day was not exactly warm and not exactly cold. Despite the light rain, coming in showers of varying length, it wasn't unpleasant as things soon dried out when the rain eased off. The wind was cool, but not strong, although annoyingly unable to settle into one direction.

At eight in the evening a small bream picked up the caster/maggot combo, so for the dark hours I fished without the maggots - as I did for the following day. The idea being to leave the plastic casters to wait it out for a tench. Most of the night was quiet apart from a roach/bream hybrid of a couple of pounds that picked up a Boosted Wrap at one o'clock.

Sunday dawned brighter with the wind more steady in direction, and turned out quite warm in the afternoon. The grebes, terns and pike were joined by cormorants - all catching small fish well within casting range. One tern actually took a fish from the very edge, a foot or so from the marginal rushes. The bobbins, however, were still.

As I had had a flurry of activity around noon on the Saturday I intended to stop until one at the earliest, and stay longer if action was forthcoming. Sure enough, at a few minutes before twelve the bobbin on the caster rod dropped back slowly. So slowly I thought a small roach had picked up the bait, but when I wound into the fish it was obviously not a small roach but a tench. A six pound male as it turned out. This spurred me to stop longer. As the Test Match was interesting I thought I might as well listen until close of play. I did, but no further action was forthcoming.

A frustrating session is some ways, but the most tench action I've had on the lake so far this season. It certainly seems like there aren't many tench, and they are wandering around pretty much at random. If you pick the right swim then one or two might move through while you are there. As they are not moving around in shoals it doesn't make too much sense to put down big beds of bait. Having watched tench grazing in a bay two years ago I don't think they follow patrol routes. Those fish sometimes turned round and covered ground they had already been over. All pretty random as far as I could tell.

If this is what's happening then the light baiting/feeder approach is probably wise. There doesn't seem much point to pile in loads of feed and sit on it until the tench show up in numbers. It might be worth a try for the bream though.

A while back I got fed up of having to go and fetch my forceps from my rucksack when unhooking fish in the landing net, so I started clipping a pair to the mesh by the spreader block. This proved to be useful even when fish were to be weighed and were being unhooked on the mat. I wasn't too sure about the security of the forceps, so I pinned a 'zinger' to the net. This arrangement is working well so far - even if the 'zinger' is looking a bit rusty now!

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Here comes summer

Seeing my first swallow of the year doesn't guarantee that summer is on it's way, but breaking out the overnight gear does. This first tench session of the spring was as much to check the gear out and see what didn't work as to try and catch some tench. In fact part of the plan (!) was to fish for perch. So I was sort of pleased to find the favoured early season tench swims all taken and my preferred perch area vacant.

A lobworm went out first, swiftly followed by a maggot feeder fishing two plastic casters on a variation of The Rig. Then I set about rigging up two more tench rods and making camp for the night. I could only manage the one night as I had an appointment with a customer arranged for Saturday morning. Which was handy as the forecast was for Friday night to show a drop in temperature!
Before this session I already knew that my sleeping bag was due for replacement and had picked up a new one from Aqua earlier in the week, and a couple of days later I discovered the waders I had bought this time last year were goosed. So a cheap pair were purchased when I bought my maggots en route to the lake. Apart from a dead isotope in one of my bobbins everything else seemed to be functioning well. A third rod went out with a method feeder and a 10mm pineapple pop-up on it. During darkness the worm rod would be swapped for another maggot feeder, this one an in-line job, also fishing two fake casters. Around seven as the sun was starting to sink I got a drop-back on the middle rod fishing a variation of The Rig and a nice surprise roach/rudd hybrid was landed.
By ten o'clock I was tucked up in my cosy new sleeping bag and drifting off to sleep. Although I was undisturbed by fish I slept fitfully as I usually do on the first night, or if doing just one night. Come morning and the feeders' contents were replenished and launched back out just over the weed edge. Shortly after breakfast there was a storming drop-back on the in-line feeder rod and I connected with something that had more life in it than the hybrid. I was thinking that my first, albeit small, tench of the year was on it's way to the net. After a bit of charging about under the rod tip I got a real shock when a spiny dorsal broke surface and a perch slid into the mesh. A decent one too, but covered in leeches.

Two plastic casters on a short hooklink and a semi-fixed feeder is hardly your actual perch method of choice, but this is my fifth, and biggest at a shade over three pounds, to the method. Food for thought? I hastily cast out a worm on a more traditional running feeder rig, but it was ignored for a few hours before I swapped it for another feeder rig and two more plastic casters.

The day progressed quietly. I failed to connect with a couple of bites, one to the boilie and one to caster and that was it. At five I put the stove on to heat up a tin of Irish stew, and before it was hot enough to eat the middle rod was away. The only trouble with using 2.25lb rods for this sort of game is that size 16 hooks can easily be ripped out if you apply too much pressure, so I tend to play fish gently by backwinding. I've reverted to the rods I used the season before last, rather than continue with my 2lb Torrixes, because they seem to handle better the heavy modified Black Cap feeders and method feeders I like using . The action is less tippy but the overall power quite similar.

Anyway, the fish was netted and proved to be another hybrid, this time a personal best roach/bream of over five pounds. Some people may scorn hybrids, but a fish is a fish and a PB a PB! Sacked up while I polished off the stew it was quickly snapped and returned.

With just three hours or so of daylight left I had two more fish, both small, one a skimmer which somehow managed to remove one of my casters from the hair (I did retrieve it so no need to fret!), and the other a roach which took two red maggots that I had replaced the casters with.

Maybe no tench, but five fish, all different, (including a hoped-for perch by accident!) and one personal best made for an enjoyable 28 hours or so.

Out with a whimper

One final attempt to catch a fish, any fish, before the year's end came to nothing despite the river looking great and rising in temperature. Still, it was a more pleasant experience than last time with next to no wind and an overcast sky keeping the air temperature up after dark. Even though I blanked it's made me keen to get out again. Things can only get better!

If 2007 had carried on as well as it started of I'd have had a phenomenal year's fishing. As it was things started to fizzle out around October. Even so I'm not complaining. I beat my bream pb three times, my perch and tench pbs twice, caught a pb barbel and my first ever grayling.

Unlike 2006 I got the springtime perch fishing in, paying off big time, and the tench campaign worked more or less to plan this time round. The double figure bream were also a nice interlude. Again I enjoyed the fishing, especially exploring new-to-me stretches of river in search of barbel. Fishing new and different places - and catching fish doing it - is always enjoyable and enlightening.

• Tench - 9-04
• Barbel - 13-09
• Perch - 4-12
• Bream - 12-06
  
• Roach/Bream Hybrid - 4-11
• Chub - 5-04
• Carp - 13
• Grayling - not very big!

Here's to a great 2008!

A mixed bag - of fish and weather

I was in two minds about this session. The rivers had opened the day before and were up and coloured. Barbel would be feeding. However I had one of those indefinable feelings telling me to go tenching again. The weather forecast was not great, with heavy showers and prolonged spells of rain forecast over the next couple of days, even though it was a glorious summer's afternoon as I headed south and remained pleasantly warm as I settled into my chosen swim.

Swim selection had also been the result of a hunch, it being one I hadn't fished before, but it felt right. A small roach/bream hybrid took a couple of plastic casters almost straight away, but by the time it went dark nothing else had happened. As night fell so did the forecast rain, which, although not heavy, lasted all night. The only action to the rods during darkness being an occasional line bite or tufty activity.

Dawn broke calm and dry but it wasn't until six o'clock that a positive bite registered. The method feeder rod tore off and a tench was hooked, only for it to fall off when it hit a patch of weed. The hook came back draped in Canadian pondweed and a small piece of plastic bag. After that bream started showing up, not large, the biggest being around the six pound mark, but they came along at intervals during the day. At quarter past ten, after a couple of bream had been landed on the double caster/maggot feeder rod the corn on the method rod was away again and a six pound tench safely landed.

Around one o'clock the first of the showers arrived right on cue after a few fish had rolled in my swim. I had switched to two method feeders by now, both fishing two grains of plastic corn, as that seemed to be the going method to catch the tench. For what it's worth the mix I was using consisted of hemp, molasses meal, assorted 4mm and 6mm halibut and Sonu feed pellets bound together with p.v.1 binder.

By two o'clock it was raining hard enough for me to be willing the bobbins to remain still when the one on the caster rod started doing its up-and-down going-nowhere bream dance. The rain was pounding on the brolly so hard I couldn't hear the Delkim! I threw on my jacket and landed the fish as quickly as possible, recasting an empty feeder just so I could dive back under cover. But as I reset the indicator I noticed that the bobbin on the middle method rod was up to the top and the line as taut as a bowstring. Again I had heard nothing. The bream had obviously moved in.

On picking the rod up the fish was weeded but steady pressure got it moving towards me. A couple of thumps told me the fish was still on and I wasn't just dragging a ball of weed in. Two more thumps and the 'bream' came free, took a bit of line and kited to my left. Ooops. It was a tench! Standing out in the lake in my waders with the rain lashing into me would not have made for the traditional tench fishing scene. Again the hook held, and after a good scrap my biggest fish off the water so far was in the net.

Such was the changeable nature of the weather that by the time I had the fish weighed and ready for the snaps the sun was shining, and as soon as the fish was returned it was hot enough to get my damp gear dried out!

The rest of the afternoon was quiet, apart from the unusual, to me at least, experience of catching two perch on fake casters. One weighed in at 1lb 12oz. The amount of fry to be seen in the margins explained the presence of the perch. Maybe I should have put a worm out to see if there were any bigger ones around.

The afternoon turned into a glorious evening and brought the bream which showed at intervals into dark. An hour or so before dark I had swapped the maggot feeder for a straight leger with two 10mm boilies, and just before 10 o'clock something made off with them at a rate of knots. How I failed to hook it was mystery. A little doubt crept in over this, was the hair too long? A bream shortly after and a roach/bream hybrid of 4lb 11oz at 1 o'clock set my mind at rest on that score.

The following dawn was more like you would expect at this time of year, flat calm with wisps of mist rolling over the surface of the water. Again the tench refused to roll and bubble to complete the picture. It wasn't until 5.40 am that the final tench of the session made an appearance, a five pounder that was in a rather sorry state around the vent. I caught up on some sleep and packed away my gear as the midday shipping forecast interrupted the commentary from the fourth test.

Bump - back down to earth

Armed with my successful new tactics, brimming with confidence and encouraged by the weather I was back again for three, maybe four nights of tench packed fishing. The wind direction suggested that the tench should still be in the same place as last week, and although I actually hoped to get a different swim the one I fancied was already occupied and I settled into the one I had fished last week. Baits out by five o'clock and it was only a matter of time before the tench would start crawling up the rods.

Despite an almost perfect sunset it was dark by the time a five pound male tried to eat my fake corn at 10.25. As it was bound to be the first of many more tench I didn't bother with a photo, and I didn't bother taking a picture of the small roach/bream hybrid that picked the same bait up at four am, nor the tufty that had expressed a liking for a fake pellet half an hour earlier. Something was bound to happen during the morning, and it did. A pike snaffled the corn on the way in, and nearly made it to the net before it bit through the hooklink. Nothing else showed any interest in my baits until I decided on a move at eight the following morning when a pike of four or five pounds nailed a 10mm boilie as I began to wind it in. This one was hooked in the scissors and was safely landed and returned.

I had two areas in mind for the move, and despite expecting a late arrival to have nabbed my first choice swim it was still free. The angler was fishing twenty or thirty yards from it and had just returned a tench as I approached. My mind made up I set up in swim choice one. After a few hours someone in the area I had marked down as choice number two landed a fish. Not to worry, things were still looking good. The afternoon was pleasant and it felt like a take could be imminent at any time. In area choice two it was, as I saw another fish landed... Dusk arrived, a tench rolled, and the wind swung round into the brolly, bringing a little drizzle with it, so I turned it round. Cosy again, I settled in for the night staring at the motionless isotopes.

Then the wind swung back where it had started from and brought more drizzle of a heavier nature. I moved the brolly back just before the drizzle became rain. Just after midnight, during a dry spell, I got a drop back that was the result of a liner. On recasting there was a tentative take on the corn and I lifted into an obvious bream.

For once it wasn't a skimmer, and although it wasn't a monster it was the biggest I had ever hooked so it got it's photo taken in the dark - in more rain. Shortly after recasting I had another line bite which I ignored. Every so often until dawn I would be woken by yet another liner on the same rod. Somehow I rather suspected that a smallish bream had hung itself - so it proved when I decided to rebait and recast the rods in daylight when the rain had cleared.

A nice ripple on the water as the sun rose and the day warmed up should surely have heralded tench activity. But no. Not a sniff. Deciding to call it quits I was on the road home by half past twelve. A few days of work will ensue to reappraise the situation and plan the next part of the campaign after this minor setback.

A small victory

Well, the tench beat me again, although I did have a decent fish roll over my bait this week. The biggest confidence boost was to catch something, although quite what it was I'm not sure, on fake corn in the dark.

For some reason I'd got it in my head that fake baits only work in daylight. So landing the hybrid above was most welcome - not just because it prevented another blank. No longer will I hit the hay with the nagging doubt that my fake baits are a waste of time and I'd be as well fishing with bare hooks.

PS General consensus on the Total Coarse Fishing forum is that the fish is a bream/rudd hybrid.

PPS Or maybe not!