Back on running water

After feeling a bit of pressure of Church lake carping, this morning myself and Jason headed back to the Gt Ouse.

No early start was had, as the bacon butties were calling us.
Arriving at the river  around eleven (ish), we strolled a couple of fields down after passing one other angler of whom I know and after a brief chat and landing a small common river carp for him we headed to our chosen plot.

The water has no flow at the moment so baiting up is done by hand rather than a dropper and after releasing a couple of handfuls I was soon casting a small feeder complete with hemp and a couple of pellets attached to the hook end into the chosen spot.

The bait had roughly been in the water forty five minutes when she rattled round and i whacked it!!

Soon in the folds was a nice looking chub of around four pounds or so of which Jason held for a quick couple of shots.

Second cast, after resting the spot for half hour, all most immediately the tip banged round resulting in another chub of which we weighed in at 5lb 4oz.

Just a couple of weeks ago the chub were looking tatty after their spawning efforts but these two were scale perfect and looking fit as fiddles.

Another hour was given in said swim but after these two causing a bit of disturbance we were soon upping sticks and moving back towards the car.
On passing Malc and having a quick chat and a brew from the flask, he explained that he was only getting a few perch after banking the small common earlier.

We decided to settle (or I did) in the peg that produced the small barbel the previous week.
I fished it for a couple of hours with no proper tugs apart from crays and chublets having the odd go at the bait.
The last hour or so was spent climbing a couple of trees looking at certain clear spot that have come to light in the past week, maybe fish or was it birds that have cleared a bit for us exposing nice little gravel runs in between the mass of blanket weed.
The areas are now etched firmly in my mind for future sessions.

I'll be back on the beat in the coming week all being well.

An honour

I have just returned from a carp session that lasted three nights at Kevin Nash's Church pool.

I had been lucky enough to have the invitation through my place of work www.brownsofleightonbuzzard.co.uk

After being greeted at the gates, shown where to park up, myself and two work colleagues were soon emptying the truck load of gear and loading it into the small trailer that was attached to the back of a quad bike.

A short journey followed that led us past the factory and through Kevin's garden, past his stock ponds and copse lake until we finally reached Church pool.

First impressions were 'wow'.

I would say, the lake is roughly four acres in size, surrounded with a mixture of trees, plants and flowers to which make you really at ease.

Although nowadays I'm not an out and out carp only angler, this was a session I could not turn down.

For I, like many others grew up reading Kevin's writings, and the inspiration that he has given to our sport is only reached by a select few.

A quick tour round the pool was given, and we'd soon decided where we fancied pitching up for our three night stay.

The pool itself only has a few swims in selected areas and with no more than four anglers aloud on at any one time we decided to fish three out of the four banks between us.

I chose a bay that the light wind was pushing into after seeing a few lumps leaving the water, Stu chose a swim to my left further up the bank which covered a nice amount of water with two small island at about sixty yards.

Young Jack decided to go opposite Stu to cover that half of the lake, at the far end of the lake on one corner was a no fishing area that was to the surface with weed and a bit of a safe haven.

While we were all getting the tackle together in the blazing sun (my truck was saying 32 degrees) large fish could be seen leaving their home in many places.

Excited? 'was I'.

The swim I had chosen, had one of the islands ends about thirty yards in front of me, from the top of a small crack willow i looked out into the forest of weed that was about a foot below the waters surface, i wandered down the bank a little further to another tree to get a view from a different angle.

'They'll do for me' I muttered to myself.

Two spots, of which were probably twenty yards apart but only fifteen yards out.

Rods out and it was time to sit back and take it all in.

After only a couple of hours a whistle was given, it was Stu and he could be seen leaning into fish which soon had him tucked up into one of the weed beds.

The boat was fetched but soon the fish was gone (barbless rule in place), but no sooner had that one gone, one of his other rods that was only place an underarm cast out, was away!!

'Blimey, this session could be a good un', I chuntered to Stu.

After no mishaps, the fish was soon in the net and looking a little bit special.

The scales read 37lb, and she was a peach, with a few shots taken, she was soon being returned to her home. A can of beer was cracked open and well done's complete with hand shakes were given.

That first night, the lake seemed to be alive but it soon become apparent that the fish were leaving the water in front of me and heading in the opposite direction!

I tried getting to sleep about midnight, but every time my head hit the pillow another fish could be heard leaving the water.

Three o'clock was the last time i looked at the time on the phone and all to soon my eyes were open again at 5.45!!

The weather had changed, and we were now witnessing a heavy deluge of rain (how longs that been due?).

My end of the lake now seemed very quiet, too quiet!

Still, I was their to savour and chillax and that was what I did.

After lunch on that second day, I heard a splosh!! On looking up I could see that this was no fish!! No, this was young Jack Brown up to his neck in water, rod bent and hanging on to an angry carp.

I was now turning into a Gillie man, and after a short dash to Jacks peg, we were soon netting what turned out to be a well scaled mirror that was pretty as a picture with a weight of 32lb 4oz.

Again, shots were taken and i returned to my home wondering whether I'd get one?

I must say here, I wasn't overly confident as my swim/spots could be seen clearly and if the fish didn't return back to my end of the pool then I wouldn't get a chance.

We had grass snakes gliding about during the day but by night, all that could be heard were frogs!!

Frogs that Kevin had heard and liked the sound of when he had fished a lake many years ago and decided he wanted them on his pool, each one although identical they all had their own calling sounds, and on the last evening all was quiet and after a hefty dinner, my back end was giving me a few moments, well, what happened next did make me chuckle, as i was lying on my bed just watching the water, i let one rip to which the frog which lived to my left, let out his danger call, this then started the whole lakes frog population off as one by one in formation they sang their tune!!

 I trotted up to Stu's swim with my cup in hand to tell him that I had started the frog song, but i would also like a cup of tea, please!

We were just sitting chatting when my receiver sounded, as the left hand rod played its happy tune.

I can tell what your thinking here, but your wrong!

This did not turn out to be one of the lakes giants, in fact it was even an ant!!

A small common of around the two pound mark was netted!!

I had caught one of Mr Nash's baby's. Still, a fish is a fish and I had persevered with my two spots in the weed and that little fella had saved my blushes.

The rest of the night was quiet and no other fish were caught, two thirty's and my sperm were all that had been out and soon enough it was time to pack up and say our thanks and farewells to Kevin and his team of lads that looked after us so well  and made us feel truly welcome.

It was an honour to have the chance to fish and sit and chat with Kevin, to hear his tales.

So through this blog, once again I will say...............

Thanks, it was a pleasure.

Small is beautifull on a warm evening

As planned i picked up the Intrepid piscator at 7pm for a quick session on the Gt Ouse.
The cows were on the move when we arrived so we followed them down the fields following the course of the river to the end of the beat, we had dumped our tackle off half way down the stretch and decided to have a wander to make sure of where we wanted to angle.

No need to rush, it was so hot and both of us were of the opinion that if a bite was to be had then it would be late in the evening, the river is very low and clear as you would expect after this heatwave we have been witnessing the last few weeks, conditions are far from perfect but just to fish as the sun leaves us for another day is a picture in itself.

We wandered back to the tackle and apart from a small mirror carp and a rather large heron flying above, nothing else was to be seen.

We chose a couple of swims towards the weir end of the stretch with a little bit of depth,flow and oxygen.
9.00pm and the first cast was made and fifteen minutes or so later a chublet type of bite had me striking into thin air!!
I then threw a few tit bits in, re baited the rod and ambled down to Keith with the flask in hand and rested the swim for ten minutes or so.
Keith was having fun with the crays and bats and after a quick slug of tea I returned and flicked out the already baited rod.

10.30pm as I was watching small fish hitting the surface it soon become apparent that something was trying to pull the rod from its rest!!
Straight away I could tell it was no Ouse monster as this little blighter was dashing around all over the place at a hundred mile an hour.

This was soon to be confirmed when in the folds lay a pristine little barbel of just under five pound, the pellets had scored again just to keep my confidence up.

The pair of us angled until 12.15am with no other activity, and by 1.30am I was tucked up in my bed thinking small bar of Ouse gold.

Time well spent

Since the session with bro, I have angled only once more and that was a short Sunday bash back on the syndicate stretch.
We did not arrive till 11am, choosing a bacon sarnie with no rushing about before the day on the river.

By which time the sun was blazing and conditions were not the best, still its better for an eleven year old to be out in the countryside than sat in front of the x box!!

The first couple of hours was spent in my rubbers, wading and looking for spots, features and maybe something for later it the year.

Clear areas, depressions and anything that might just look like a feeding area for chub/barbel not just for now, but for when she's holding a bit of colour with extra water to boot.

This i find, all adds to the enjoyment of not only captures but sessions also.

At school it was called homework (of which we hated) but this is for enjoyment and its all part of the jigsaw puzzle.

Jay started to grizzle that we were not angling yet, but with bright sunlight and low conditions i explained to him that it was an opportunity not to be missed. He said he understood, but was itching for us to drown a bait as soon as possible!

A few bits of bait were deposited in certain areas before we chose a spot not too far into the section.

We angled with just the one rod as it was a tight swim and not long after placing the bait a few dark shadows could be seen drifting in and out taking he odd morsel of bait.

On closer inspection, these turned out to be river carp, not massive, but pretty river carp.

Fully scaled, linears, commons and even a ghostie had drifted in for a bit of grub.

But apart from the odd tremble on the rod top, nothing gave us the wrap around we had hoped for.

We stayed put in that swim due to the activity in the hope that one might trip up, but alas, it didn't.

We fished till 4pm but just could not entice a take.

'Next time dad' Jason whispered to me, 'atleast we done our homework' and with that I replied 'yep', 'and your going home to do yours' and  he just chuckled.

Bro shows me the way to go

The pace on the syndicate stretch had dropped out even more than when i last visited just a few days earlier so with this in mind I decided to along with my brother visit a stretch on the only other ticket I have purchased this year.
The last couple of years i have managed to winkle the odd barbel from this beat to low doubles, Paul was yet to have one from it, with only chub being slid over his waiting net.

After stopping off for a healthy kebab on the way, as this was an after work session and time was not on our side. We were soon fighting our way through the mass of shoulder high stinging nettles, with mozzie's buzzing around our ears!

We both chose a couple of pegs towards the end of the beat that had a bit more flow than the rest of the stretch and were soon getting the odd tell tale tap from the crayfish that inhabit the river.

Paul had the first bite within an hour, which turned out to be a small chub.

For some reason, when I think I can get away with it have been throwing out two rods on slightly different methods just in case I'm missing out somewhere, but will only do this if the swim dictates that I can get away with it comfortably. Some of you might suggest that I'm doing myself no favours, but I'll learn.

Half an hour more past and the time was now 9.15pm when a shout could be heard from just upstream.

'I'm in bud' was the cry, so i wound in, grabbed the digital and lit a smoke and ambled my way to him.

Just as I entered the swim, there he was standing in the waters edge with his back lying against the bank complete with a barbel in the folds of the net.

'Is it a good un mate' I asked, 'looks good and hung on a bit' was his reply.

We rested the fish for five while we sorted slings, scales and his camera out he then lit a smoke of his own, sat down and gathered his thoughts while I quizzed him to the 'what on and where from'.

Soon the fish was being returned to its watery home after us recording a weight of exactly 9lb's and I left him to wallow in his glory.

On returning to my swim, I took five minutes out with a tea from the flask and waited for the glued pellets to dry as I pondered  where to place them once again.
One rod went back out over the baited area and the left hand rod was placed just upstream with a bag attached and the rod top was tightened so that a drop back would show.

Time was running out and to be fair I didn't think a bite was going to come but thankfully it did and it was the upstream rod that bounced into life and after a short tussle a chub of around three and a half pounds was in the bag.
Angling is a confidence thing and I'm a firm believer in, that as long as your getting bites regularly then your doing it half right and sooner or later that big bite will come.

We both gave it another half hour or so but no more fish were forthcoming so I gave the call that it was time to face the nettles once again.

Top angling bro.