Always wear sunscreen

Fred says "Always wear sunscreen." It was needed on Friday, possibly the hottest day of the year so far. T-shirt and shades weather. Possibly not ideal conditions for fishing. Nice to be out in the warmth though after the not too cold, but miserable, winter, followed by a spring that didn't want get going.

I had the choice of swims, so went for the one I'd have liked to fish last time out. I don't think it was a wise selection. The only rel feature to be found was the marginal reeds. They look like reedmace, definitely not Phragmites. Whatever they are fish seem to like them.

I really don't like fishing off platforms, and when they are well above the water level I like it even less. I made do.

Conditions had change. The wind had turned through 180 degrees from last time putting barely a ripple of the surface. There wasn't much scum floating around, nor a large hatch of flies. Some did appear late on.

Action was slow coming. I started out by baiting up as far out as I could catapult maggots and 4mm pellets, fishing the same two rigs that I'd left on the rods over the bait. Corn and pellets kept getting trickled into the margins to my left.

Action was slow coming.The fake corn was wound in and dropped in the edge. The baitrunner slackened right off and the rod laid on the platform. I was shocked when the rod swung round. Surprised when I picked the rod up to find nothing there. Probably because the slack baitrunner and running lead didn't offer enough resistance to set the hook. While putting the rod on the pod made the line's angle very steep it would offer a better chance of a successful hookup.

Sure enough it did. I'd just started listening to The Archers (not that I know why I bother these days, it's gone to the dogs) while watching an angler opposite dealing with a tench on a pole when the alarm sounded. This time the fish fell off. The line had been laid between reed stems and the fish had also managed to get into the reeds. It didn't feel big. No surprise there.

Repositioning the bait closer so the line didn't have to go through or round any reeds I started feeding over the rig with the corn and pellets. Third time lucky. By the way the fish was fighting I thought it might be another male tench. It was. Maybe a little heavier than the other two I've had (I couldn't be bothered getting the sling wet) it still wasn't not big enough to test the rods out. Most of the scrap took place between the rod tip and the platform. I say scrap, more like the fish swimming around on a tight line until I could see where it was in the soup and put the net under it.

 

 

I used my smallest pair of forceps to unhook the fish so it might look bigger when laid next to them for a snap... 

 

That was my lot. Plenty of small stuff topping as the light went. One or two better, but far from huge, fish rolling noisily too. I don't mind sitting waiting hours for a bite if it results in fish the sort of size I'm after, which doesn't have to be large by national standards, but when the fish are small by any standards I'd much rather be catching lots of them. I seem to have got fishing head back on though. Which is something positive. One more try with a slightly different approach then I'll go elsewhere, or fish for something else. Or both!

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New rods - No jinx!

So much for pike fishing. After a reasonable start everything went rapidly down hill. If I didn't blank completely, as in get no action at all, I got dropped takes (I never get dropped takes) and the one better fish I connected with fell off almost at the net. It was unbearable so I gave up. The constant rain through March didn't encourage me either. April is always a bit hit and miss for any fishing in my experience so I thought I'd wait until spring arrived  in fine style before getting the rods out again.

In mid-April I was starting to get some enthusiasm back and decide that I needed a pair of tench rods, having sold my last set and not wanting to use my Interceptors now I've become a born-again fan of ten footers. 10ft 1.75lb Stalkers seemed like the best choice. Traditional through action, slim and light. At this time of year pike rod orders have quietened down and I often get the urge to try some non-standard builds for my personal use. So what to do to the Stalkers?

Go minimal. Not having tried the American Tackle Vortex guides/rings/eyes, call them what you will, a set of light rods seemed a good chance to give them a whirl. While I was at it I messed about with ring spacings and came up with a new Rover pattern of seven plus tip to suit the through action. Wanting an equally minimalist looking handle I went through a lot of dry runs eventually settling for a 16mm reel seat with shrink tube and Duplon 'bits'. A Delrin butt cap finishing the handle off. Built up with dark grey thread holding the rings in place they looked pretty smart. 

 

 

There was just one thing nagging me. They felt a bit undergunned. Tying leads to the end of line run through the rings and waggling it about making short casts in the back garden 1.75oz seemed a bit much. 1.5oz was more like it. Only one way to find out if this was a false perception. Go fishing!

It took a while for the weather and my spare time to coincide, and when it did I almost didn't bother, but yesterday was perfect. One of the warmest and sunniest afternoons for an age, with only a light wind blowing. Not only would I give the new rods a whirl, I'd go fish a new venue that I've walked round a few times. Unfortunately it's a platform job, which meant the pod had to be dragged out. With some maggots bought earlier in the week along with a bag of halibut pellets and a tin of long past its sell-by date sweetcorn I had plenty of feed for a short session.The rigs were simple enough. One rod had a helicopter feeder set-up, two fake casters being the hook baits. The second rod had a running leger armed with two grains of fake corn. Guaranteed tench catchers!

The swim I had hoped to fish was occupied so I had to have a look round. The one I chose had emergent reeds to either side and a layer of scum the prevailing wind had blown surrounding the platform. It was only a week or two since I last walked round the pit but it had turned to pea soup in that time. I wasn't over-happy about that.

A quick handful of casts with the lead rig to get an idea of depths near the reeds and I was ready to get set up. Feeder to my left, leger to my right. catapult out freebies over the top. Set the bobbins. Sit back and wait.

The sun reflecting off the gentle ripple was in my eyes. It was time to get the sunglasses out. I had nearly left them out of the rucksack when paring down its contents but reasoned they didn't weigh much. I was glad to have them with me.

There was quite a bit of fishy activity. Certainly fish could be seen swirling and an odd bigger splash  heard. The bubbles coming up in front of and to the sides of the swim might have been tench too. Then I started getting knocks and rattles on the feeder rod. It wasn't long before the rattling rod top didn't stop and I lifted into a fish which turned out to be a hand sized rudd. Until it broke surface I hadn't a clue what it was as visibility was nil. One rod christened. Back out with the rig and more freebies

The next take was a series of pulls followed by slack line. As soon as I felt the fish on the end of the line I knew it was a tench. Jagging about and constantly changing direction. It plainly wasn't very big, even on the light rods it was no concern, but the little bugger wouldn't go in the net. Mainly because of it's erratic swimming around, and also because I couldn't see where it was!

I can't remember catching a tench under four pounds since 1982 when I last caught tench from the local canal. Maybe I've got spoiled over the years, but a two pound tench, no matter how pretty it looks, doesn't do much for me these days. Still, I'd caught my target species, and things could only get better.

Another fish fell for the casters. A third species, if a roach/bream hybrid counts as a species. Possibly scraping half a pound it had to be netted - along with a load of the floating scum and twigs. The scum was a mix of algae, small twigs, willow fluff and other tree debris typical of this time of year.

All this action happened in the first hour of my session. As the sun stopped dazzling me I could see there was a tremendous hatch on, the shuck also adding to the floating scum. Whatever the fish population is in the place they won't be short of food.

I was planning on stopping until nine thirty but the activity to the rods had dried up when the surface ripple began to die away and I was starting to wonder if it was going to be worth it. Recasting was getting tricky as the scum was starting to reach past where my lines entered the water. And even getting close to where I was positioning the feeder. I sat it out, occasionally catapulting out a few more offerings over both rigs.

At ten to nine the corn rod was away. Again I could tell it was obviously a tench when I picked the rod up. Again it did the silly swimming in circles under the rod tip thing. It didn't feel much bigger, but it was pulling harder, if that makes sense, and I suspected it of being a male. I wasn't wrong. Just for the hell of it I weighed the little blighter. Two and a half pounds of chunky, cheeky tench.

I clung on until the bitter end for no more reward. Both rods christened, if not well tested, had beaten the new tackle jinx for once. I tried a few longer casts with them at packing up time and I have to say that an empty 30gm feeder was bending the rod into the butt on the cast. Until I hook something with some weight behind it I'm reserving judgement on the Stalkers. Doing my usual back garden line tied to a hook on the garage wall tests they do feel like there's a bit in the butt. If another session on the new pit doesn't give them a proper work out, even a four pounder would do, I might take them to a carp puddle! They're a popular barbel rod though, so maybe it's just me?

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Ringing the changes

The blue dye put me off fishing before the weather improved and then came lockdown - accompanied by rod orders drying up for over a month. Despite always finding it easy to put off starting work, when there is none I usually go outdoors with rods or cameras but that option was now denied to me.

I spent the early days rereading novels, and then fishing books as a way to escape reality. It was a bit of a nostalgia trip. Chris Yates's Casting at the Sun first took me back. The chapter about Llandrindod Wells always brings back my memories of an afternoon spent there while on holiday with my parents. I was a particularly useless angler in my early years (not that I've improved much) so my lack of anything banked was no surprise. I did have a bite though, and saw a carp cruising by. The real highlight was seeing a VW campervan parked next to the café with a large triangular net propped up against it. Why that image struck me then and stuck in my memory I don't know.

Next up was Quest for Carp, reread for the umpteenth time. The times written of will never come again. It was a period of rapid discoveries and developments of bait, tackle and approaches. The hardships put up with for little reward wouldn't be tolerated by a modern angler!

Then it was time for tench. Both the book of that name by Chris Turnbull and Terry Lampard's great First Cast. Two more modern books which covered a period of change in tench fishing. This was a bad move. By the time I got round to those two books the weather had turned into ideal spring tench weather.I was itching to get the rods out but it wasn't possible. Locked down and locked out of the fisheries. I took top walking along the canal, scene o my very first tench fishing adventures. Days of Mitchell 300s, Fairy Liquid bottle top indicators and cans of sweetcorn. I even had the idea to pass my time writing a book about my tench fishing days over the years. I got as far as planning the chapters and writing the first chapter before I gave up having decided it wasn't working. Maybe one day.

The canal was starting to look good. With boats all locked down the clarity of old was returning. However in the forty years since I caught my first tench there things had changed. Swims had disappeared, encroached by reeds and vegetation. Also noticeable is the appearance of invasive species. The only lilies in the old days were the ones with large pads.Now there are beds of small leaved lilies. I think they are fringed lilies and they are spreading.

Worse is the widespread appearance of the highly invasive Floating Pennywort. This can cause big problems when it really takes hold, covering the entire surface and starving oxygenating plants of light.

Since these walks were only making me wish I could get the rods out, as it warmed into the 20s I was starting to think of eels as well as tench, I changed the routes for my permitted daily exercise to head out into the farmed flatlands. Out there I became a little obsessed with the landscape and started a photographic project which is continuing to keep me thinking and  motivated. So much so that now fishing is allowed I don't want to go! Besides, rod orders have picked up and I'm a bit busier than I often am in spring.

Rod building has been testing these past six months. Particularly getting reliable supplies of rings and some other fittings. The ring situation has improved a little, although it's still far from perfect or predictable.

Being forced into using rings which aren't my standard Fujis has made me realise why I prefer the Fujis! Functionally there is nothing wrong with Seymo or Kigan rings. The liners won't damage braid, the frames are strong enough. They also have the theoretical advantage over Fuji BSVOGs of being a little lighter. While they don't quite have the 'finish', or look of quality, to them that Fujis have, what I really don't like about them is that they need more work doing to them before I can whip them to rods.

Vortex ring

All rings need the feet grinding so the thread will make a smooth transition from blank to ring foot. This is easily done on a bench grinder. Some sizes of Seymo 247S also need a burr grinding off the underside of a foot. One extra step. If that wasn't enough the frames need bending to get both feet of a three leg ring to lie flat on the blank. This is an annoying trait shared with Kigans and one which really bugs me. The only advantage Kigan and Seymo rings have is that supply is consistent!

There are other rings available. I have fitted PacBay rings in the past, including their Minima rings. Again they are perfectly functional. Again they aren't as nice to work with. Minimas don't have ceramic centres. They have a rolled over metal liner. That means there's nothing to pop out or crack and there is a weight saving. They do look a bit like the ceramic has fallen out though! I'm told they are an improvement on earlier rings using metal inserts which were prone to grooving. My very limited experience of them suggests that they are okay to use with braid. The only caveat being that if the liner gets damaged it could well prove abrasive to line. But the chances of such damage is probably negligible.

This talk of Minima rings is all by way of introduction to a similar ring from American Tackle. the Vortex. The frames are not quite as nice looking as Fujis, but on a par with other brands. However, my first samples don't need any fettling beyond the usual transitional grinding. Vortex rings look even more like the liners are missing than Minimas. This is because the liners are as black as the frames! Not having used these rings I have no idea how they perform or if the black liners stay black.

With nothing better to do after varnishing a batch of rods I thought I'd get nerdy and compare some of these rings. Below is a photo of the rings I have referred to above. Click it for a closer look) These are all 30mm size.

Remaining nerdy I weighed them on my electronic scales, which don't do fractions of grammes. The results are as follows:

1. Seymo 247S - 7g
2. Fuji BSVOG - 8g
3. Fuji BCLSVOG - 8g
4. Kigan -7g
5. Vortex - 5g

Make of that what you will!

The tip rings supplied with the sample sets of Vortex rings were ceramic lined. I need to check if that was down to the sizes I asked for. The rings themselves are currently available in sizes 50mm to 8mm.

I've just realised there is another ring I occasionally fit missing in this frame style. Alconite lined Fujis. I have previously compared these with the very similar BSVOG here.

As I'm still obsessed with photography I can't see me wetting a line for a while. When I do it will most likely be for eels. As usual I don't want to start chasing Anguilla too early. Maybe another month. By which time I fully expect the heatwave to be over and the monsoon season to have arrived.

Time for a break?

Another frustrating piking blank the other day has just about finished me off. When I fished with Nige Grassby a lot he had a knack of picking a rod up, giving the bait a twitch and getting a take. If that didn't work a pike would grab the deadbait as he wound it slowly back. Whenever I tried that I would twitch the rig into a snag. I certainly don't remember catching any pike doing it. Yet twice last time out I had baits nailed as they got close to the bank. Had the high pressure got them on the lookout for moving targets? The first time the pike didn't do much, and I think it might have dropped the bait. The second time it was definitely moving off with the lamprey head. I still managed to miss it. The bottom hook was free of the bait when I wound it in. Maybe it had been loose when I struck. I'll never know.

I'll also never know how big these fish were. Pikers often console themselves when they miss a take by saying it must have been a jack. Sometimes it will be. But what about those times the bait looks like a chainsaw victim? Long, deep slices across it. Missed takes aren't always from small pike. Big ones can be picky too.

With frost forming on the rods, net, unhooking mat and everything else close to the ground I packed up in the dark. The main reason I'd gone in the first place was to see if putting reflective tape on a float would make fishing into dark easier without resorting to isotopes or starlights. Not using bobbins as well as floats it's hard to detect takes which don't steam off and take line when the float is hard to see. The reason I got the last take was because I was winding the rig in  few yards at a time to keep it visible in the gathering gloom. The tape worked. I didn't really need to put my head torch on full beam to pick the float out. A camera's flash really picked it out for a photo. I'm not sure I'll be bothering again though. However I did notice that when the sun shone on the tape it stood out well against a dark background. So there might be more mileage in the idea.

On that downer I decided against a final piking trip today. Regardless of my lack of success I just don't feel motivated to fish for pike at the moment. Daft as it seems I still find myself wanting to catch eels! With that in mind, a mind currently preoccupied with photography plans, I think I'll give the fishing a break for a while. Possibly until the weather warms up, the days lengthen, and I can face spending a night or two each week under the stars. Although I'm sure I'll start getting withdrawal symptoms long before April.

This lack of enthusiasm might also be a combination of having I've fished myself out this year and rapidly encroaching old age. Certainly during the summer I seemed to be going a lot, and catching regularly. There aren't many pages left in my little Black n' Red notebook either. I'm certainly not feeling as young as I used to...

While the sizes of fish I've caught haven't been huge they have been acceptable to me, especially considering I haven't left the county to catch any of them. Lancashire isn't exactly a Mecca for specimen hunters.

• Bream - 7-12
• Carp -21-08
• Eel - 4-01
• Roach -1-10
• Tench - 6-06
• Pike -18-10

If I do manage a good long break, those eels had better watch out because I'll be after them every chance I get!

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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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Variety

No matter how much fishing you do it always finds a way to prove you wrong. Recently I'd been thinking about my lack of roach on fake baits despite having caught them on other maggots and boilies from waters where I've used plastic for tench a great deal. Then, right out of the blue, I catch roach on imitation baits on two trips to a water. Half a dozen over a pound to fake corn and pellets! There's no rhyme or reason to it. If it hadn't been for the one on the pellet, fished with a small bag of real pellets on the hook, I might have put it down to a bed of hemp and corn. Although I've used that baiting approach for tench plenty of times. No. Fish are perplexing. Which is why we keep trying to catch them.

The first encounter with plastic eating roach also resulted in some plastic eating tench, and some that showed no fear of the scary boilies. It's all too easy to write a bait off as useless on the basis of a couple of blank sessions. I reckon most baits are acceptable to most fish most of the time. The main reason they don't catch is not having any fish find them. The next reason is them being presented in a way that is ineffective. Over a prolonged period some baits may appear to be more successful for certain species than others, but even then it might just be a coincidence.

Not only have I caught roach on plastic corn, I've also had a small rudd pick a grain up. The list of species I've caught on static fake baits keeps on growing.

Catching roach on tench rods isn't a lot of fun when they're towing round two ounce leads. I'll have to have a go for them with the right gear later in the year. I'm not sure I'll be brave enough to go all out on the plastic baits for them, but I might chance it on one rod.

Using bits of foam as surface baits counts as using fake baits in my book. And the chance of some easy action from the suicidal Railway Pond fish is hard to resist when the weather is hot and I've an hour or three to spare.

It seems that the bigger fish hang back from the ravening hordes of piranhas, picking off the mixers they miss. Not that I've landed anything big, big, but big is relative. One advantage of the foam is that the little pests mostly can't manage to get it in their gobs. Trying to avoid the tiny fish is the hardest thing at this place, and what keeps me going back I think.

Common blue damsels are, well, common. Four-spotted chasers and black-tailed skimmers fairly numerous. I've even seen a lone banded demoiselle. Watching these insects go about their business to the aural accompaniment of reed warblers on a sweltering afternoon is a certain sign that summer is in full swing.

I'm gradually getting organised for my short sessions. I still try taking too much gear with me though, and am wondering if doing it the way I do for my winter piking might not be a better idea - sling, rucky, chair. Still, the little bits bag I bought holds my essentials with room for more. I even found a smaller pouch for my compact camera than the one I'd been using. It fits in the bits bag quite neatly, as does my notebook, headtorch, radio, sounder box, permits and sunglasses. It's a two-sided bag with a centre flap that Velcros to form a lid for one or other of the sides. Not perfect, but it'll do for now.

On yesterday's short session, the plastic pellet not only accounted for a roach, it was picked up by the mug tench, which has put on a bit of weight. These two fish managed to christen one of my ten foot Torrixes. Christened but not tested as neither of them did much in the way of pulling back. The tench felt like a bream all the way in until it was under the rod tip. The roach felt like a bit of weed on the hook.

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Not so scary

Whenever I see a tench roll in front of me when I'm deliberating over where to fish it makes my mind up quickly. This was another 'turn up late' overnight session, but I wasted no time getting the rods out having seen that fish. I plopped the marker float on the spot, cast one rod to it and moved the line marker on that rod used that to set the markers on the other lines. With three baits out (two plastic casters, two grains of fake corn and a 10mm tench scarer) I spodded out some seeds, catapulted out some pellets and finally set up camp for the night. Then the kettle went on.

I was treated to a close view of a black headed gull trying to steal a meal from a common tern just above head height and a couple of rod lengths out. A while later the same tern noisily chased a kestrel across the lake.

It had been a hot day and there was little wind. Even the clear sky didn't cause the cold to rush in after dark. Night time was the cue to swap the casters to a grain of glow corn and the fish scarer to a larger pop-up on a carp rod. It really did feel like summer had arrived. The midges certainly had so I lathered on some midge repellent.

Not a rat was seen. Nor a fish caught. At dawn I went through the usual ritual of a bite to eat and a brew before putting the tench baits back on and spodding out the bulk of the seeds. The plastic baits were fished over the seeds, with small mesh bags of pellets used to protect the hook from bottom debris. The tench scarer got cast away from the baited area, also with a small bag of pellets.

It was quite a shock when the scarer rod was away at ten to five. When I say 'away', there was no line being taken as the baitrunner was pretty tightly set, but the rod was bouncing on the pod! There was one tench that hadn't been frightened! Although the fish had come to the net with some weed attached, that lovely grassy weed that tench seem to favour, there wasn't much being picked up when I wound any of he rigs in.

With a cloudless sky the sunrise wasn't as dramatic as it can be, but its stillness promised another red hot day.

An hour after the first take I had another, to the same rod. This didn't feel like a tench. It didn't feel like much to be honest. It looked a bit strange whatever it was. A bit of carp, a touch of fancy goldfish and maybe a hint of crucian?

More reliable than a train timetable it was exactly an hour later that the tench scarer failed to scare another tench. The third tench was running late, arriving at twenty past eight when the sun was getting high in the sky and a nice ripple was on the water from the light easterly. Then the timetable went to pot. It was twenty to eleven as I waited for the test match to restart when the biggest tench of the day so far picked up the scary bait. By now it was pretty obvious, even to me, that the reason for the bait's previous failure to attract tench was that I'd not put one near any tench. A new moniker for the bait is required!

Fifteen into play at the test the third tench's twin turned up, and forty minutes after that the first small male tench of the season for me. Half an hour after that one another male was in the net.

Come what may I was going to pack up when the players went for their cricketers' lunch. It felt like I could have carried on catching tench on the little round balls all day, but sometimes you have to go. I loaded the barrow and pushed it along the path round the lake. I'd not gone far when I thought about gratuitously running over a dead leaf caught in the grass but it looked a bit odd for a leaf. Avoiding it with the barrow I took a backward glance at the 'leaf' and saw it was actually a pair of mating moths. Despite catching seven tench and something else, spotting these moths made my day. A quick check of their ID on returning home revealed them to be eyed hawk moths. A first for me.

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I take it back

Saturday I sneaked a cheeky evening carp session in. Not expecting much away from The Petting Zoo I wasn't disappointed at my complete lack of success. Sunday was reserved for the soaking of pigeon conditioner (and work). Monday was work-filled until tea time. Leaving the timer on the rod drying machine I set out for another late evening lazy set up, this time intending to fish until after lunch.

All went to plan. I'd not forgotten anything. Nothing important at any rate. Just the big brolly was required given the forecast for a dry night and another hot day to follow.

Half the seeds, to which I'd added a tin of corn, got spodded out along with a pint or so of mixed pellets. The maggots could wait until dawn. No point attracting too many bootlace eels with them during the night. The spodding taught me a couple of things about these new-fangled Spombs. Firstly they are rubbish for using at close range. They need to descend almost vertically to open reliably. An under arm swing doesn't cut it. Secondly they don't seem to like pigeon conditioner. The tiny seeds get in the closing mechanism meaning it won't close. Thirdly they hold a lot of water from the particle mix. Next time I'll be throwing a couple of my old spods in for close in baiting just out of catty range. In the meantime the Fox Spombalike is going to get some holes drilled in it to drain my seed mix.

Darkness is coming around ten fifteen now. The just-past-full moon tempted me to play around with teh camera. I felt pretty sure I'd not be disturbed by any fish even though I'd swapped the fake casters for a grain of useless glow corn and the 10mm fish scarer had been swapped for a larger wafetery thing which I cast well beyond the baited area.

Just one little rat appeared early on, ate some spod spill, then scurried away not to be seen again. That was good. The westerly died away and the lake went mirror calm. Fish of various sorts, including tench, had been showing on the surface before dark, but during the night little disturbance was heard or seen. Late on a mist rose from teh water as the sky cleared. Not for long though.

A few minutes before four I was woken by a stuttering sound from the sounder Velcroed to the brolly shaft. Half asleep and spectacle-less I blundered out and grabbed the left hand rod. A small eel felt like it was wriggling on the end of the line. Once I came to my senses I realised it wasn't an eel but a tench. And to the glow corn too. I take back everything I've ever said about it being rubbish! Not quite in the dark, and probably not glowing much after more than four hours, but a confidence booster for the bait.

With the fish returned it was time for a brew and something to eat to get my energy levels up to cope with the impending non-stop tench action that was sure to occur once I'd put the rest of my bait out. This time I used the catty to get the seeds more or less where I wanted them. The wafter was removed and replaced by the maggot feeder and casters. I stuck with teh single grain of glow corn, and the two yellow grains on teh thrird rod. Three plastic baits. All being fished in full confidence. Strange.

By eight the bunny suit was removed. By nine the fleece was gone and the sweatshirt followed soon after. It was another hot one. The wind had swung to the east then died away to nothing. Willow fluff drifted about on the water, a chaffinch sang its heart out from the topmost branch of a fir, a kingfisher flashed by and a distant yellowhammer could be heard. I even saw my first damselfly of the year. The scent of the hawthorn now in full bloom, making me think it's prime tench time, seemed to be accompanied by the hum of summer. The hum turned out to be an approaching tractor spraying the crop in the field behind the lake...

As the sun arced round to the west my brolly gave me some shade. As the wind picked up again it provided some relief from the heat. Apart from odd single bleeps, which I think were liners from small fish as the bobbins never moved, nothing much was happening. The calm surface wasn't being dimpled or disturbed. It was as if the fish were keeping their heads down. I got mine down too and caught up on some sleep.

Lunch would be had at twelve then I'd think about packing up. Not much thinking was required and I was away at one. Hardly had I set off than the sky clouded over and the temperature began to drop to a more bearable level.

A fish caught and some practical lessons learned. I even got to use my new water container. I'd prefer it not to have a large logo embossed on it, but it's more robust than the two smaller containers I've been using for something like 20 years and which are looking in danger of splitting! The only negative I can think of so far is that I can't see how full it is. The old bottles were translucent, making it easy to judge how many brews I had left. As this one is a litre more than the capacity of the two old containers combined it should suffice for a two night session. With a bit of luck. It stashes nicely in the bag of my barrow, which is handy.

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In the nick of time

Events were conspiring against me once more. In an ideal world I'd have fished Tuesday night and Wednesday morning, but I had to take my car in for its MOT first thing Wednesday. No worries. Wednesday night would do. The forecast was drier too. Except... A parcel that was due to arrive Wednesday was now arriving Thursday. When the fishing madness arrives chances get taken. If I could get back home before ten thirty I should be in time to take the delivery.

Wednesday started wet and ended dry. Not too warm with a bit of north in the westerly, but warm enough once I had the Groundhog up to take the edge off the wind. Overkill for one dry night but on a barrow it doesn't make life any more strenuous than a lighter brolly would. I had plenty of time to get settled in and baited up as this was a proper tench session on a different venue with fewer carp and I wasn't expecting anything until the morning.

With that in mind I got myself cosy and organised before plumbing up, baiting with maggots, seeds and pellets, and then chucking the baits out. Sure enough nothing happened save the occasional single bleep. After dark I swapped the plastic casters for a grain of glow in the dark corn which I have been assured is a guaranteed nocturnal tench magnet. More false propaganda.

One rat made a couple of brief appearances. A fish or two crashed out. At one point I was disturbed by a loud splashy swirl in front of the rods, followed by the sight of an animal swimming away, diving and resurfacing. It wasn't a rat. What it was remains a mystery as I didn't have my specs on and the glipse was all to brief. Probably a mink. I hope.

An overcast dawn arrived slowly. I made a brew then got up and wound the rods in, cast the marker back out and baited up again. After that the rods were recast, the glow in the dark pellet reverting to the tried and tested plastic asters on an in-line feeder rig. The sinking corn was swapped to popped up grains and the fish scarer stayed as it was.

After a threat of rain passed over the day warmed up. The wind had dropped considerably and there were signs of roach or rudd topping, and a few patches of bubbles appearing beyond my baited patch. The fish scarer was wound in to have a small mesh bag of pellets attached to the hook before getting cast somewhere close to where the bubbles were popping.

I was expecting action at any minute. Even so my attention wandered to watch the birdlife. A kingfisher was zipping about. It's surprising how vivid a bird can be in flight yet be difficult to spot when perching. A pair of chaffinches seemed to be busy. They kept flitting into a spot in amid the hawthorn blossom. Maybe they have nestlings to keep fed.

As I was still getting single bleeps and there were roach topping again I chanced removing the corn and fishing three live maggots on a heli-feeder. In no time at all I had a positive take on that rod. It shouldn't have been a surprise to find a bootlace had hooked itself. The maggot idea was shelved and the corn put back out again.

My cut-off time was nine thirty. When it arrived I'd still had no tench interest and started a slow tidy up. As I was loading my bedchair on the barrow the sounder box woke up at last. The tip of the corn rod was pulling round and the reel spool spinning. A decent scrap ensued before a solid female tench was in the net. Typical. The day was warm enough to remove my fleece, a tench had been netted, and I had to leave.

Walking off I spotted a deceased tench in the margin. The second one I've seen on this water this spring. I wasn't going to poke it to inspect for causes of death as it was pretty far gone. Fingers crossed it was natural causes and not murder.

Back home there was no note telling me a delivery had been attempted and the test match hadn't started. I'd just managed a tench and got home in plenty of time. No fishing for a while now as there's work to be done. Oh well.

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Short session

One rod, net, some bits and a mat to sit on. Had fish in front of me but nothing to report, just liked this photo.

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Not so cr*p?

More than half the battle when it comes to catching fish is location. No matter what the species, you can only catch them if you have a bait in front of them.I was going to take advantage of the drier evening no matter what, but if the swim I'd seen produce a couple of carp on Tuesday was free there'd be no way I'd fish elsewhere. I'm not completely stupid! As it turned out the lake was deserted...

There are two spots that are obvious places to place baits so they got scattered with pellets and the baits dropped over them. The closest rod started out with plastic corn on the hook but I swapped it to a 10mm fish scarer on the off chance. Some more fish scarers were scattered around it. Well I might as well throw them in a lake as a bin. The third rod got a boilie type thing put on the hair and chucked out randomly on its own. I couldn't even be bothered putting a bag of pellets on the rig.

The grebes were milling around again, this time the courting couple made a half-hearted attempt at some weed waving. It wasn't quite as windy as the evening before, warmer too but not sunny. Birdsong was prolific and once more I bemoaned my lack of identification skills in this area.

I've been using my lucky sweetcorn for some years now, carefully removing it from a rig when the hook gets blunt and putting it on a freshly tied rig. It's very economical. I think I might have a lucky plastic pellet now. Around ten to eight something picked it up. At first it felt like another bream, then it might have been a carp, but finally it got all jaggy and I knew it was a tench. Judging by the bend in the 3lb Torrix it might be a decent one too. In the net it had me guessing again. Unlike the mug from last week it was rounded out and clean looking. Not the biggest I've caught, and from other waters only worth a mat shot. I might not even have bothered with a self-take as it was, but one of the carp fanatics had turned up a few minutes earlier so I got a 'grip and don't grin' shot for a change.

Check the rig, put on another bag of pellets and out again. Forty minutes later Lucky the Pellet was picked up by something a bit heavier. Twice as heavy in fact, although sadly not a tench. A rather sick looking common was soon in the net. It had red blobs lifting some of its scales and a dull grey sort of film over its body and eyes. As if it was wrapped in opaque plastic. It seemed fit enough though.

Lucky the Pellet

Check hook, add bag, recast. Sit back and relax. I pondered over the success of the new reels and wondered why the usual jinx wasn't working. Two reels christened in two days with two local PBs. Something wasn't right!

Earlier in the day I'd been thinking about my locally caught specimen challenge and how it wasn't going too badly. Nothing large by national standards, and not much prospect for that with the possible exception of a big eel, but compared to what I'd have been overjoyed with in my teens, pretty pleasing.

At nine o'clock the fish scarer failed to live up to its reputation and the third reel got its head wetted. After a decent scrap for a carp, which included the swimming round in circles under the rod tip ritual, I had another common in the net and another local best increased. On the mat and panic set in. The hair was bare. I'd lost my lucky sweetcorn. I looked around the swim for it before remembering I'd swapped it for a fish scarer. Phew!!! Quite a nice looking fish apart from an absence of pelvic fins. Again the other angler obliged with the camera - after insulting my unhooking mat for being too small... The cheek.

This place must be stuffed with carp if I'm catching them, and on my crap rigs. I'd better not tell anyone my hooklink material cost about a tenner for 100 yards, and that kilo bag of fish scarers will probably last me until winter. I'm not mean, just economical with my bait and gear. One thing seems to be working. Using carp gear catches tench, and it means I don't wreck a swim when I do hook a carp as used to happen with smaller fish than I've been catching of late. A nine pounder could wipe out a margin swim using my two test rods but carp twice that size get landed faster on heavier gear.

A pity there are so many carp in the place. The more distant carp waters I've tench fished were bigger and had lower stock levels so the carp were less of a nuisance. Then again those tench were keener on the traditional tench approach than this lot appear to be. Maybe I'll try plastic casters on one rod next time. I've yet to catch a carp on those. Famous last words?

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Cr*p c*rper

Summer had definitely arrived on Monday. With the air temperature over 20 degrees and even a strong easterly warm enough to sit out in a t-shirt in there had to be carp on the surface. The Railway Pond seemed like a good bet for a duffer like me to snatch an easy sucker off the top.

I travelled light with one rod, an original Chorley Anglers Lure Special which I revamped a few years ago, a bucket of mixers, a bag of bits, landing net and unhooking mat to sit on.

The up-wind swims were taken by pleasure anglers so I dropped in the windward bank to see a few smallish carp cruising around. The wind was too strong to fish a controller so I anchored a surface bait in a long hooklink. A couple of carp had a look at it. One was too small to have enough suction to drag the bait down! That's the trouble in this 'non-commercial'. It's full of carp that are two small to be called pasties. They're more the size of party sausage rolls!

I worked my way along the far bank until the other anglers had departed and I could get the wind behind me. Even with my useless skills I soon had plenty of fish swirling away in front of me. The controller back in action and drifting towards the fish. But as usual, despite a couple of takes from fish with larger mouths, I caught nowt. Back home via the chippy and it was time to search the internet for bow-fishing gear...

Tuesday and summer had gone on holiday. Cloudy but warmish. Then, after I collected my new 'carp' reels, loaded them with line and rigged them up on the rods I was itching to give them a try out. As much to get the line bedded in (and make sure I'd put enough on over the backing line..) as to try to catch a fish. That was the cue for the rain to arrive. I went anyway. New tackle has to be played with.

The rain was light as I set up so the brolly waited until everything was in place. Two grains of plastic corn and a plastic pellet in the margins over sprinklings of the respective real baits, and a pop-up chucked out mindlessly. Under the brolly, sat on my low chair at its lowest setting, I discovered my leak repair hadn't been 100% successful. At least it wasn't icy cold water dripping on my leg.

 There wasn't much variety of birdlife to watch, but with nine great crested grebes on the lake, one sitting on eggs, there was plenty of activity. One pair were engaging in their head shaking courtship ritual, but with no weed gathering. The others were milling around, diving, and adopting threat postures before chasing each other. Why there were so many grebes on a comparatively small water I don't know. There were lots of tiny and small fish topping and leaping towards dusk though. So I'm assuming the grebes are there because the food is plentiful.

With carp rods and carp reels in use I felt certain a tench or two would make a mistake as they patrolled the edges and found my loose feed. When a take came it wasn't a screamer. All that happened was the left hand bobbin dropped a bit, went up a bit, dropped a bit, went up a bit... There was something on the end of the line when I picked the rod up. A plastic bag by the feel of it. Under the rod tip it got a bit heavier and felt vaguely alive. I'd forgotten that I'd tried to catch the bream in the lake last year, so it was a bit of a surprise when a dark old-looking bream rolled on the surface before sliding over the net. A fish that was round-bellied with spawn.

Not much of a test for the new reels. It made a change for the new tackle curse to fail though! One thing was for certain; the new reels are smoother than my old baitrunners, a couple of which are making peculiar noises when I'm winding in. Although the old reels are likely to go on my eel rods now as they are not completely worn out.

The last of the particles went in and the plastic corn back out over the top of it. Despite being an unexpected species my confidence increased. Not least because it was not yet dark. Surely a tench, carp, or even another bream would be along soon?

Of course my confidence was misplaced. The rain eased off as I thought about packing up. Returned as I wound the first rod in, but was kind by blowing over as I set off back to the car. Then it came back on the drive home. Another pleasant change.

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I'd forget my head...

Whenever you swap your gear from one bag to another don't double check you've put everything in, triple check. That was the second of my trips back home as I set out for my second overnighter of the year. I had only got as far as the village when I realised I had left the milk in the fridge. If I hadn't bought it specifically in the morning I'd have picked up another pinta from the Spar shop. Only a few minutes wasted of my early start. The original plan had been to have my tea, listen to the archers then go fishing. I was targeting tench this time and the overnight stay was mainly to save me from having to get up at daft o'clock. As long as I was in place and organised before dark it would be okay. Just as well really.

There was one carp angler leaving when I pulled up and the lake was my own. Barrow loaded I pushed it round to the far side and took my time looking at swims and plumbing around. Then there was another niggle in my brain. Bivvy pegs. I couldn't visualise them anywhere. Open the  rucksack, take everything out of it. No pegs. Not to worry. It wasn't going to be windy or wet, the two pegs I always carry for brolly use would suffice. Wait a minute. I had brought my Aqua brolly, not the Groundhog. The brolly has a centre pole and the screw in boss that replaces it lives in the peg bag. Centre pole plus bedchair equals waste of time. A. R. S. E.

If there'd been another angler on for the night I'd have left the loaded barrow in his care. I thought of stashing it somewhere but despite the locked gates I didn't want to chance it. Only one thing for it. Back to the car, unload the barrow, load the car, go home, get the peg bag, back to the lake, load the barrow, walk to the swim. Thankfully nobody had turned up and nicked my swim when I got back, just in time to miss the Archers. Looking at things in a positive light, had I adopted plan A and left at seven thirty I'd still have forgotten the pegs, and probably the milk. I reckon by the time I'd got organised I'd have given up.

Set up - eventually!

 A tench plan involves fishing two rods to an area baited with hemp, pellets, corn and maggots. In this case with a sprinkling of 10mm fish scarers. I left the maggots out of the equation for my initial pre-dark baiting in case they attracted hordes of tiny wriggly things. Two grains of fake corn and a fish scarer went over that bed of bait for the night and a popped up plastic pellet went along the margin over a sprnkling of mixed pellets.

The light wind died away to nothing as night set in and it was pleasantly mild under the bedchair cover. A few single bleeps, suggesting the presence of fish of some sort, were all that attracted my attention. At five I was up and at 'em. More bait was put out, the rigs checked and the fish scarer swapped over to an in-line maggot feeder with the inevitable pair of plastic casters. Half a pint of maggots got cattied out over the swim too.

Evening had seen a tern and some swifts flying around. Dusk brought the bats out. Grebes were pairing up and fighting - there are three pairs on the lake, at least one of which now has eggs. Morning saw a kingfisher zipping past, dodging my rods in surprise. Rats there had been no sign of. Unless you count one which looked like it had had it's tail tied to a sunken branch. As the morning grew warm there was a strange oily slick emanating from the bloated corpse.

After a quiet period I started to get more single bleeps and blips. The margin rod had been a bit of a bet-hedger and was one of my three test Torrixes. When the pellet got picked up and the rod pulled round I was expecting a carp. It wasn't. With a bigger, stronger hook than I'd used with the corn on Monday I gave the tinca a bit of stick. Despite the rod it pulled back a bit, made some impressive looking swirls on the  surface, and almost got me excited. Netted it shrank a bit. On the mat it looked like a five. It also looked a bit familiar. On carefully zeroed Avons it made five pounds exactly. Not surprising really. Close comparison of the photo I took with that of Monday's fish proved my hunch to be correct.

On Monday it had picked up a bait at fifty yards or so, today it was in the edge. Tench are wanderers. Given a lack of features they seem to follow no set patterns. When I've watched them feeding they have been completely random in their browsing. Or apparently so. Far from following a path they are quite likely to double back on themselves or go off at an angle. I think that's partly why my equally random recasting approach used to succeed at Sywell back in the Stone Age. If I thought they was a similar density of tench in this place I'd try it again, but this recapture has got me wondering about the tench stocks.

The carp, on the other hand, appear to be more numerous than I'd imagined. Almost as if they are being magicked into the lake. When the sun had worked up a head of steam and a light ripple was on the water there were carp cruising all over the place. Two drifted down wind just beyond my baited area. Four spooked when a couple of wood pigeons swooped low over the water. There were lazy bow waves to left and right. I couldn't be bothered trying to catch any of them though.

When the last two bacon butties had settled I had a slow pack away pondering my next move.

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