My monthly fishing diary...
Week 1
A mixed bag of remarkably good catches and one blow-out this month, but please can I ask you to read right through to the end where I have a very special announcement to share with you. But onto the fishing first...
Choosing the right swim is so important when carp fishing. One of the biggest factors can be wind direction – and deciding whether to fish behind it or on the end of it? I sat for a while and watched the water. Nothing was showing, which is not uncommon when the wind is blowing from the North. So, with no clues to guide me, I needed to make a decision based on gut instinct. I went for the end of the wind, on the basis that the day was nice and warm, and adopted a very positive baiting approach comprising a dozen large Spombs of groundbait, hemp, corn, casters, pellets and broken boilies. Bish, bash, bosh, the swim was primed. Normally, I would let it settle for a while, but with limited time available I went straight out with two Method feeders over the top.
Anticipating a long wait, a brew was in order, so the stove was lit, off came my jumper and I sat back to soak up the sunshine. Blow me, the kettle hadn’t boiled before the right hand rod was away! A long common gave a remarkably good account of itself and looked resplendent in the sunshine. Great start. Rod back out, kettle on again and blow me, the left hand rod roared off. “Crikey, let me have a cuppa guys!” I joked.
This one, a belting mirror, was photographed and returned, and my attention switched back to making that brew. This time I had all the time in the world because the swim died on me. An hour passed without any signs of life. Had I spooked the fish or had they cleaned me out? So, I spodded again. Nothing to lose now, I thought, with two fish already under my belt.
It was quiet for the next hour other than odd single blips. I took this to mean there were fish in the swim. The indications could have been liners, a fish nudging the feeder, or even getting away with picking up the hookbait. There’s no way of telling for sure. So I sat on my hands, and after another hour the right hand rod was away again.
Another cracking mirror, but that’s where the day went downhill. I never had another bite, and hardly saw another fish. After packing up, I drove round to the far side of the lake where an angler had decided to fish on the back of the wind. He’d had three fish, like me, and then his swim had died, too. Maybe it was just a case of fish feeding in the morning and then shutting up shop?
There really are no concrete answers in this sport, are there? Perhaps I need t
