A View from the Water's Edge

[Chris Plumb]

I have kept an angling log since the age of 9. This has been a simple record of places fished, captures made, weights, baits, methods and a summary of the conditions. More recently this has been augmented with more of a diary. This season with Elton’s permission (hopefully) I’d like to share my season as it unfolds on this forum. (Postings won't usually be as long as this )Here’s my opening week.

 

Phew what a scorcher!

16th June 2003 0000 - 1330.

Paul and I have 2 essentials for an opening day venue. 1: it must offer angling that isn’t too taxing (you don’t want to start the season with a blank) and 2: it mustn’t be too crowded. 2 factors which aren’t exactly mutually exclusive.

 

Paul and I have fished together since we were boys at school and the first week of the season is usually spent in each others company. I can count on the fingers of one hand the number of first nights either of us has missed over the last 30 years. We like to find somewhere quiet so that we can have a good natter, drink some beers, wait for midnight and enjoy the excitement of being by the waters edge after dark. One year we made the mistake of pitching up at the club's carp water at 10pm on the 15th. The lake was a tented village, few pitches were free. There was an buzz of chatter, of optonics being tested, radios. At midnight the water was bombed from all points of the compass in a cacophony of watery explosions. By 0600 we were leaving with a solitary tench (to Paul) to show for our half hearted efforts - never again.

 

This year we pitched up as usual at 10.00pm. Our chosen venue this year was an intimate little water noted for its crucian and tench fishing. There were only two other anglers on the venue. They weren’t in our first choice swims but the ones next to them, so, wanting solitude as much as a good swim we kept on walking and made camp in a couple of pegs overlooking an (empty) reed fringed pool. Setting up at a leisurely pace took an hour and the final hour to midnight took an age to arrive - it always does. We both agreed our ‘target’ for the day was A crucian each (Though I secretly hoped mine would be a 2lb one!)

 

At last midnight arrived and I cast out (Paul still maintains I was 4 mins. early!) From the outset I’m plagued with tentative bites. My betalite float dithers, dances and dips in the margins. The bites are all but un-hittable but it’s absorbing stuff. And whereas I was looking at my watch every 2 mins. before midnight it is 0230 before I look at my watch again. By now the moon as risen like a blood orange on the eastern horizon it’s colour the result, no doubt, of smog over Reading. First light and I have still blanked. Paul has winkled out a couple of commons and I decide on a spell of surface fishing to do the same. Sure enough I quickly bag my own brace and, blank saved, its back to the crucians.

 

By now Paul has decided on another target and has decided to try and catch every species in the lake! To his carp he quickly adds, roach, rudd and perch and then joy of joys he gets a crucian, I big one as well at 2lb 6oz. I’m still struggling and am now not even getting bites. Paul, on the other hand, gets another 2lber. He just needs a tench for a ‘full house’!

 

It’s now getting warm - looks like being really hot shortly - and there’s a strange rasping noise from my left - Paul’s snoring! I can see his swim is a hive of activity with bubbles and reeds twitching whilst mine appears devoid of life. It’s time for a bit of poaching!!! I sneak into his pitch, cast out, and almost instantly my float at lasts give me a response that I can strike and I’m shortly putting the net under a stubby tinca of some 2lb. Paul stirs, “Poacher” he exclaims, but he’s obviously talking in his sleep as he simply rolls onto his back as the snores get even louder! 20 minutes later and I get another fish this one is a crucian and only an ounce lighter than Paul’s biggest. This time the commotion does wake him I’m congratulated and sent packing!

 

Next cast back in my own swim results in another 2lb crucian. A brace of 2lber's each - what joy. We fish on for a couple more hours but the heat becomes unbearable and we decide to call it a day rather than turn ‘beetroot’. All in all a most satisfactory start. Paul never did get his tench though......

 

Becalmed

17th June 1000 - 1600

After the excesses of the opening day a short ‘gentle’ day was called for. My most favourite way of taking carp is ‘off the top’ and there’s a couple of shallow club waters that are ideal for this. They both have a good head of carp. Average size is 5 - 10lbs with a number of low doubles and one or two bigger. However for really good floater fishing you need a bit of breeze to get those baits into the corners. Hot, still, becalmed summer days is not what the angler ordered. It’s what we got though. We could see carp, dozens of them. Mooching about languidly beneath the surface. Firing out some chum mixer usually brings instant results but these fish just sulked off moodily like scolded teenagers.

 

After an hour, one or two mixer were getting sucked down and, quite incredibly, one of the first to get taken was my imitation mixer. This was my first time of using this nifty bit of gear from those clever people at Enterprise Tackle. They are designed in such a way as to ensure the hook always sits proud above the water. This fluked fish was 2 ounces under 9lb and was followed an hour later by one half the size. Paul had also got a small one by the time we met up for a spot of lunch.

 

The afternoon was a completely different affair - the reason; around 2 o’clock a breeze got up. This woke the carp up and for and hour and a half we enjoyed some brisk sport each of us catching half a dozen - my last fish being the largest of the day and in a certain symmetry of the first it went 2ounces over 9lb.

 

Winning the Toss

18th June 0400 - 1300

There was never any doubt where the winner would choose! We were off after big tench, to a venue where both our PB’s were caught. Where there is a ‘Car Park’ swim in the far NE corner of the lake, where the fish enjoy the fruits of man’s and nature’s bounty. For years Paul and I have tossed a coin over first choice of swims - I usually lost. This one I didn’t and without hesitation plumped for the hotspot!

 

Cockles are a winner on this pit and I had plenty. I also wanted to experiment with a new paste and black pudding. Tench are meant to love blood based ground baits so Black Pudding would appear to be an obvious choice of hook bait - well that was the theory anyways! We arrived at first light and I quickly set up stall with the breeze in my face. A mild southerly breeze that heralded a warm day. Things seemed perfect.

 

By 1000am things were far from perfect. Neither of us had had a bite from anything remotely tenchy. Cockles had failed, so had the paste. It was time to try the Black Pudding. I would like to say success was instantaneous. It wasn’t, but I did at least get a bite. I missed it - bugger. I while later I had another and was mildly surprised to find myself connected to a very muscular tench. After a brief but violent fight he was mine - a fine fish of 5lb 8oz. One of half the size quickly followed and then on the stroke of mid-day I connected with a real lump. At first the fight was very slow and ponderous and I thought it might have been a large bream. It then woke up and stripped line out as it charged out to the middle of the lake. I was more than happy to play her out there away from the snags in the margins. I knew it was a tench and a good-un. She surfaced about 100 feet out and was slowly coaxed into my waiting net. I quick glance and I was convinced it was a new PB - something the scales confirmed when they registered at 7lb 10ozs. It’s such days which give you confidence in a new bait - and I can’t wait to give it another try!

 

Kennet Interlude

18th June 1930 - 2330

One of the advantages of living so close to the river is that I can be settled in a favourite barbel swim within 10 minutes of leaving home. I’ve lived near to this beat for some years and each season try to fish a new pitch - somewhere secreted away from prying eyes. This year was no different and I had been lightly pre-baiting a spot during the close season. This preparation obviously paid off as my first river trip of the season resulted in a fine brace of lean barbel tipping the scales at 7lb6oz and 8lb7oz respectively.

 

Unlucky for Some

19th/20th June 1700 - 1100

Peg 13. A favoured spot on this lake. A big peg too. It can easily accommodate two anglers and is the obvious place to pitch up for a sociable night session. The quarry was again tench, though this lake also holds some VERY big Crucians and that’s another good reason to approach it at night. I’m more of a traditionalist than Paul. My plan was to float fish bread and free-line meat in the margins. Paul rigged up his method feeder and fished the shelf out by the island.

 

For the first half of the night Paul’s approach was spot on. His methods bought a steady stream of tench punctuated with a number of carp including a brace of doubles. I had a frustrating night connecting and losing a number of fish though I did manage to bank a 9lb carp on my float rod. After another bumped fish I took Paul's advice and changed to a bigger hook and as dawn broke a shoal of tench got their heads down on my ground bait and I caught 7 in little under 2 hours and still had time to land a 10lb carp on my other rod. So all in all a score draw between the various approaches.

 

By 6am the sun was on the water and action had stopped. I switched swims and had another 3 in quick succession from a shaded corner. With the sun beating down by mid-morning we beat a hasty retreat and headed home for some ‘shut-eye’.

 

Spindle’s First Pike

21st June 0400 - 1300

This was very nearly VERY embarrassing. ‘Come and have a day on the Kennet’ says I. ‘I know a great swim. I real aquarium, full of fish, great trotting water, perfect for using the centre pin. You can’t fail. You might even catch a Barbel. Oh and bring a lure rod those summer pike can be rather hungry!’ So suitably enthused, Glenn Smith was invited down to my favourite stretch of the Kennet. The Close Season saw a flurry of e-mails as preparations were made and at 0330 on the much anticipated day Glenn pulls up outside my house for the short trip to the venue. ‘We need to be there at dawn - it fishes best in low light levels!’

 

I put Glen in the ‘best’ swim. A deep (well comparatively deep) run under a tree and along an eddy on the far bank. Glenn waded out to mid-stream and started fishing while I set up stall at the head of a long riffle 70m upstream. I was soon into fish, a roach, dace, a 2lb chub, a brace of grayling, a small barbel. Then I connected with an absolute lump a big barbel? No a pike!! And one that would out-gun me surely? Not expecting to land it on a size 16 I gave it a lot of welly and somehow got it into the undersized pan net before it realised what was happening. Like the chub and barbel I took it down to show Glenn and to have it’s picture taken - it weighed 9lb 2oz and chucked up a large mouthful of maggots when it was slipped back.

 

Having had such a spectacular start myself from a usually less than promising spot I was convinced that Glenn would have been among the fish himself. But NO! 1 lost fish and very few bites - I was mortified and invited him to take over my swim where I was getting a bite a chuck while I took over from his barren swim.

 

Well I’m sure you can guess what happened! It took a while to get a bite but when I did it proved to be a decent chub of 3lb 13oz, next up was one 7oz bigger followed by our objective of the day, a barbel of around 2lb. I was landing this latter fish just as Glenn re-appeared to report that he was still blanking!! Double mortification!

 

I felt the fish were personally snubbing me! So putting my rod aside took Glen down to a completely untouched swim - usually full of gudgeon - to ensure he caught SOMETHING. And thankfully he did! First a Roach, then a Perch which wriggled off at the net. Next another Perch, this one landed successfully and around the pound mark. A few more smaller fish followed and faith suitably restored we went back to Glenn’s first swim and I stood with him in mid-river whilst I watched him fish it. I gave him a couple of pointers and he was soon holding the float in the eddy under the tree.

 

‘Right, perfect, you should catch there’ and right on cue the float buries and a chub shoots upstream and throws the hook in the snag!!! Recasting and a patient 20 minutes later and the same thing happens. This time Glen quickly gets below the fish and expertly steers it away from danger for me to net in the fast water. ‘What’s your biggest chub - Glen?’ ‘4lbs’ ‘I think this will be pushing it’ Push it, it did, though not far enough and the needle on my scales registered just shy of the mark. I heaved a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a barbel but still a respectable Kennet chub.

 

I started up fishing again and was shortly able to report another pike showing an interest in the small dace I was catching. ‘I’ve never caught a Pike’ Glenn reminds me and hurries off to get his lure rod. He’s soon casting away, letting the floating lure sail down with the current before bringing it over the spot where I’d seen it. It’s not long before the pike can’t resist and strikes the lure. A brief battle and the pike is brought to hand and a smile beams across Glenn’s face. This is turning out to be a good day after all!

 

The remaining time is spent with Glenn still trying for a barbel from a spot where I’d had a third barbus. But to no avail. I was having little luck as well, though I was attempting to catch something a little more humble - a gudgeon - as by now I was attempting to catch as many species as I could in one day!

 

By lunchtime bites were few and far between so we decided to call it a day. No barbel - they’ll have to wait till next time but we’d both enjoyed a great day. And for me it was a splendid way to end my week.

 

Glenn's Chub

 

More next week??

 

 

Chris

 

[ 02. July 2003, 09:52 AM: Message edited by: Chris Plumb ]

[The Flying Tench]

Chris, I'll certainly be someone who's very interested to read your regular reports

[Tyke]

Great reading Chris, look forward to the next installment.

[Apache]

Roll on the next installment!

[John Ellison]

I began keeping an angling diary after reading Archie Braddocks Fantastic Feeder Fishing.

The main purpose of my diary is to record rigs, baits, ground bait mixes that worked or didn't.

After a couple of seasons, the causes of successes or failures become crystal clear. I keep files for the places I visit the most that are local on a floppy disc, which is much more convenient than rooting through an old book trying to find last time you went to this place or that, they each have a file name.

As I totter towards my grave, the floppy disc serves me far better than my memory ever did. I'm going to Hayfield tommorrow, so I just stick the floppy in, scan what I concluded from previous visits, then I'll give my mate a right battering tommorrow

[Chris Plumb]

Gosh - I thought this thread was slowly slipping into an early obscurity But as it's got a new lease of life here's my less than edifying second week!

 

Oooops

28th June

0430 - 0600 & 0700 - 1300

Now this WAS a HUGE embarrasment. I was very keen after my first week success with black pudding to return to the scene of my triumph. So I pitched up at first light, raked my swim, put out a few handfuls of 3mm pellet and a handful of free black pudding offerings. Within minutes the swim was a jacuzzi, tench were rolling close in, the margin reeds quivered with activity. This was going to be some session! I fumbled frantically to set up. Over eager to get a hook-bait out. At 0445 I had my first bite, a big male tench which went completely mental, a real battle royal which resulted in a fish of 6lb 2oz gracing my net - very big for a male. At 0530 I had a run from a carp which quite literally took me across the lake before getting off. At 0600 I was thrown off the water!! I'd committed a cardinal sin and forgotten to check the match booking sheet. Matches aren't usually held on a Saturday and this was the only Saturday in the entire season that a match was being held on this water. But there are no excuses I should have checked. I packed up quickly and ruefully convinced that who ever drew 'my' peg were in for a glorious time. The match organisers, to be fair, were very good and offered to let me fish on (in another peg - probably) once the draw had been made but I repeated my abject apologies and scurried off with my tail between my legs!

So it was back to my first day venue and within an hour of my rushed departure I was slipping the net under a 2lb3oz Crucian which had snaffled my float fished bread flake first cast. Don't you just love starts like that! Alas it was to be my only Crucian of the session as I was then plagued by commons, landing 4 and losing 4 before bright sunshine sent them down as well. Time to call it a day.

 

Sods Law

30th June

1900 - 2330

Chris Yates reckons that one of the best ways to ensure a bite is to make a cup of tea. As soon as one's attention is distracted the river gods like to play their tricks. I usually find going for a pee has the same effect - as soon as my back is turned the rod sweeps round in a classic barbel bite. This short trip to the Kennet will be a weekly ritual throughout the summer. I expected more form this particular visit. It had rained most of the day, yet the evening was dry and warm. I hoped the barbel may have been woken up somewhat by the conditions. Has it happened I had just two bites on my hair-rigged pellet. The first at around 2200 resulted in a scalded groin as I was in the middle of pouring myself a coffee from my flask. Bloddy typical, Sods Law in action. An hour and a bit late and another screamer of a bite saved what was looking like my first blank of the season. A very spirited barbel which fought like a demon - it certainly fought well 'above it's weight' which didn't quite make 5lb. This was my last cast and I was tucked up in bed before midnight!

 

 

Chris

[Chris Plumb]

A July Dawn

4th July

0400 - 1000

It is still dark when I park the car, though there is a coral-pink blush on the north-eastern horizon. To the south though, is still the indigo of night. But by the time I have unloaded, shouldered my gear, and walked to the waters edge, grey is turning to green. The reed warblers are in full orchestra and my arrival at the lake is greeted with a pre-historic ‘screech’ as a heron flaps off swearing at me for interrupting HIS fishing. A shrill whistle precedes a flash of blue - a kingfisher on low level manoeuvres. Rustling along the bank are field mice in search of breakfast - in a few hours one will be brave enough to steal a crust from the toe of my boot. The lake itself, is a mirror. Pillars of mist sweep across it like ghosts, wreathing on the day’s first breath of wind. A carp jumps fracturing the image and along the margins, sedges twist a shake as fish forage for food. Nature is in full bloom and I stop to ‘drink it in’ before starting to set up.

I’ve got the day off work. It’s Jaq’s birthday - and we’re going out for lunch later but it seems a good excuse to sneak in another dawn raid on those inscrutable crucians. There are no other anglers on the water so my chosen swim is free and is quickly ground-baited with a mix of 1/3rd Ultimate and 2/3rds roughly liquidised bread. A generous amount is introduced into the margins; bread will be the hook-bait, pinched to a size 14 - the red tip of quill float completes the scene.

I get tentative bites immediately. Liners - possibly? Crucians - maybe? Rudd - probably! Then the ‘bully-boy’ carp arrive. I hook three and land three - an average I don’t deserve on such light tackle. The biggest and last of the trio (an 8lber) thrashes up and down the swim - warning off his fellow brethren. It works - I won’t catch another carp for hours.

Bites dry up after all this commotion. But slowly they return. Picky, fidgety, the float is undecided. Then it dips half an inch further and at last a strike doesn’t meet thin air. I’m connected with a fish that circles doggedly under the rod - a crucian at last. A flash of gold at the net and he’s mine - a pristine fish of 1lb 14oz (my smallest of the season!!!)

Things go quiet again as light levels increase. I pour a coffee and have some breakfast. There’s little over an hour left before I need to be heading home when a patch of tiny pin-pricks pepper the surface a rod length further out from my float. I check the depth, change baits to a morsel of meat (soaked in Trigga) and cast into the patch of bubbles.

Success is instantaneous. The float hasn’t time to settle before it is snatched below. A tench. A small one of a pound and a bit is followed next cast by a 2lber. Third cast results in a much more serious examination of my tackle - a muscular male tinca of 3lb 15oz. Three fish in three casts - a great way to finish the morning. But there is still more. I spy carp at my very feet - pre-occupied, on their heads, feeding. I free-line a piece of meat to them with my other rod and snatch a couple in quick succession, the second and last cast of this July dawn - is a gloriously golden common of 9lb 3oz.

 

 

Chris

[Elton]

Chris,

 

How about making this into an ongoing article for the main part of the site? It would make it accessible to a wider audience.

 

All the best,

 

Elton

[Apache]

Good idea Elton, I look forward to reading more Chris.

[Chris Plumb]

Elton - what-ever you'd like! Switch this to the main site if you want and I'll e-mail you weekly (more or less!!) updates - it's your party!

 

 

Chris