Mixed in amongst the seemingly never
ending bag-up sessions, occasionally, just occasionally mind you, one has a bit
of a misfire. Such a thing happened yesterday, so I thought I would share.
Following a most productive afternoon
viewing on Saturday, viewing the annual spectacle that is Fishomania, I thought
some more interactive angling was required. So Sunday morning, have written off
the local small rivers due to excess colour and current, it was off to the
local club lake for further experimentation on the carp and bream population.
Previous exploits to the venue had
produced a few fish, but I was always left with the feeling that more was
possible, in terms of more regular bream bites, or better quality carp, or even
both and preferably without the mind-numbing breaks between bites. So given the
unexpectedly good break in the weather first thing Sunday, I headed off to the
club lake with visions of net-busting fish churning through the old grey
matter.
I chose a small peg in the far corner
of the lake for the session, it had a decent depth straight out on the pole
line and a prestigious quantity of overhanging trees and debris to the left,
extending out into the water by some 10 feet in places. It was a bit awkward,
with branches overhead, brambles where I would prefer to have the landing net
and a boggy patch to the right where the top 3's should live. Not ideal, but
sufficient.
Having played with the peg on a
previous session, with no small degree of success (including three double
figure commons) I decided a similar tactic as my previous session - fish the
pole straight out for bream, and tight to the snags for carp. Pellet would be
the main tactics on heavy pole gear (0.20mm line, 22 elastic & size 8 hook)
with paste and meat in the holdall for backup. A few tweaks to the presentation
and feeding was aimed at improving the catch rate - fish closer to the snag to
make use of the cover and feeding with more cupping, less catapulting was planned
in order to deter the roach that had plagued me on the previous visit.
I fed both lines, tied up fresh rigs on
the bank to give the lines a few more minutes to settle and started on the
inside. Some days you can catch on the inside straight away, other you need to
let it settle, I felt it was about time my luck was in for went straight for
the margin.
10 quiet minutes went by on the line
next to the snag and nothing, no rattles, no knocks, no drifts. It was about
that time when the other line was starting to beckon when without notice,
thunk, and the float was gone.
In time fashioned style a rapid strike
to steer the fish away from the snag, whack the pole over to the right and lots
of bright yellow elastic. The carp, however, had other ideas. Hooked so close
to it branch infested hideaway it had one thing on its mind, and it was happy
to share it thoughts on the matter. Streaming into the snag-fest of an overhang
it paused briefly about 4 feet in, I applied a tad more force and for a brief
moment I seemed to be winning the battled. The fish seemed to come my way and
for the fraction of a second that it takes to think "Phew that was
close" it shot back in the snag taking another 6 feet of elastic with it.
The next thing of note was that feeling that we all dread, that grinding
sensation of line on underwater sandpaper, scraping back and forth, last just
long enough to get ones hopes up that the line will survive before a ping,
thwack, and the sight of recoiling elastic and the vision of a hookless rig flying
through the air.
Gutted, thy name was Otis.
Having re-rigged for the margin, both
lines re-fed and fishing finally recommenced. Two hours later exploring both
lines for no return and one was left contemplating. I contemplated the weather;
I contemplated the passing long-tailed tits; I contemplated that the inside
line was not like peg16 in Fishomania; I even contemplated that I had blown it,
and would be better trying an open water peg some 50 yards away.
One more chance, put a 5lb hooklength
on the deep rig, a small hook (a 14 as it happens) and a small pellet and maybe
a few friendly bream would break my duck. Out went the pole, in went the feed
and the float started to dance, there were feeding fish present, but would they
take a 6mm pellet? After about 20 minutes the float finally submerged in a
convincing manner and I struck. But this was not a bream, typical - you scale
down and guess what, oh carp! Two strong and solid runs on heavy tackle and it
became evident that the fish was substantial, and gauging from the side to side
wiggle emanating up the elastic, this one was foulhooked. Deep joy (not).
By gentle application of force I
managed to entice the fish back about 10 metres from it furthest point, it was
now about 8 metres from the bank and getting it in was starting to look
complex. I eased the five pole sections up and to the left (the only clear
section in the trees overhead) and the carp responded by swinging round to the
right into the other snags. Despite my best effort the carp was in the snags
and the burrowing began. I must have tried 3 or 4 different angles and the fish
would not come out, it seemed to be caught up on something, but I couldn't make
anything out. In desperation I refitted all the pole sections and tried to lead
the fish out into open water, a moment of hesitancy and out it came.
Things seemed to be looking up, but the
problem still remained, how to get a substantial foul-hooked carp into the net,
given limited headroom, snags both sides and a long rig (it was over 10 foot
deep on this line). Plan B was to try and grab the elastic a foot above the
connector and hope. Plan B sounded good, Plan B made sense, Plan B was obvious,
Plan B was a good idea, Plan B … put the carp back in the snags.
5 anxious minutes later and the carp
eased out again, I had a firm grip on the elastic just above the rig, but try
as I might, there was no way that the landing net was possibly going to reach
the fish, which although clearly tired (it was not alone in that) was far from
giving itself up. Plan C.
Plan C involved grabbing the elastic in
one hand and the rig line in another and gentle feeling the fish in. If the
fish reacted, it was time to release the line and start again. I'd lost fish
doing this before, but frankly I could see no other way out. In a moment of
madness, I let go of the elastic and tried to net, no good. Time to regroup and
ease the fish back again every time the fish came up I'd take one hand of the
elastic/rig and the fish would go a few more feet out again. This was frustrating,
but having run out of practical ideas, so kept going. Next time the fish was
briefly in the net before lolloping out again, you just know when it going to
be one of those days. Just when I thought this would never work, it all came
together, the fish came back towards me, the net was underneath, and the carp's
head went down. Job done. I collapsed on to my seatbox. 15 minutes after
hooking it, the fish was in the net and boy, it was no tiddler.
The hook fell out of its tail in the
net and a quick weigh said it all, 17lb 8oz. I think both the fish and I needed
a break, so following a couple of quick photos in the net prior to release and
I dipped the edge of the net and watched it swim off. I was knackered.
Partially encouraged by this experience
I renewed my attack. It was slow. Over the course of the next few hours I had
four whole bites; not exactly scintillating stuff, but just enough to keep the
interests up. Bite 1 produced a common of 5lb, which fought like a demon twice
that size, bite two was other carp that fought well and looked about 10lb
before it unexpectedly shed the hook about 9 inches from the net. Bite three
was a rudd, which moments later became a rudd with airsickness, and bite four,
well let's just say bite 4 knew the snags better than me, and decided to
address this imbalance by dragging the whole rig into them with all the finesse
of a sledgehammer. It was gone in seconds.
A further play around
the lines for the next hour produced very little else, so a little crestfallen
I packed up. It had not been one of my better sessions; caught 2, lost 3
(including 2 substantial fish) - I've had better days. So a little perturbed
and more than a little weary I made my way home, I will give it another go.
Maybe not that peg, maybe not those tactics, hopefully not that result. But
then that's fishing for you, if it was always easy then where is the challenge?
If it always goes to plan then where is the need to experiment? If you catch then
all then why go again? I will have another go, older, wiser, perhaps… but no
less keen.
