A Stormy Start and Fishing Dreams

The last time I ventured out for a few days on the bank, I was unlucky with the weather. Storm Bert had rolled in Friday afternoon, bringing chaos to the lake. But for one fortunate syndicate member, it was a dream come true. He landed the big common—a colossal 48lb-plus beauty. What a fish! That kind of result sticks in your mind, inspiring both admiration and a touch of envy. I hoped my luck would change this week.

Quiet Beginnings

I arrived later than planned this time, around 12:45. To my astonishment, the lake was eerily quiet—only two night anglers and a pair of day anglers scattered across the swims. It was a rare sight, as this lake usually attracts more rods, particularly in decent weather. I had been mulling over strategies during the drive, pondering the patterns of my target fish. It had likely been holding up near a snag for weeks, a classic behaviour in cooler weather. But I didn’t want to fall into the trap of obsessing over one fish or one swim. Fishing is supposed to be about the thrill of the chase, the challenge, and the joy of simply being outdoors.

Walking the bank, I scoped out three potential swims. The weather was playing a big role in my decision-making. An easterly or northeasterly wind was forecast, bringing up to 30mph gusts. While the conditions could be favourable for the fish, I wasn’t keen on the relentless wind in my face. One of the prime point swims was already occupied, and a bay area I fancied was taken by day anglers. Frustratingly, they had set up a night swim, which we’re technically not allowed to fish during the day. Rules aside, I understood their choice—if carp were showing and the spot was available, I might have done the same.

Setting Up in Familiar Territory

Eventually, I settled on a swim known as The Gap. It’s a spot I’ve fished many times over the years, yielding several memorable catches. The swim offered a reasonable chance of success, with carp occasionally drifting through or being pushed my way by other anglers. As evening approached, I watched fish crashing in the distance, too far for me to cast but encouraging nonetheless. At least they were active.

The forecast promised a promising start: mild nights with temperatures hovering around 7 degrees and rain on the horizon. The air pressure, though high at 1027mb, was set to drop later in the session. A band of rain was expected, but nothing too heavy—just the kind of weather carp often respond to. I baited one rod on a productive spot known as the spit, using a mix of   

Co-de, Cream Cajouser, and Trigga Ice boilies. To increase my odds, I varied the hookbaits, mixing in a few pop-ups for added attraction.

The First Night: A Wet and Windy Wait

The first night was a wild one. Rain lashed against the bivvy, and the wind howled through the trees. Despite the challenging conditions, I felt hopeful. The spit had delivered in the past, and the fish had been active earlier. But as the hours dragged on, the weather intensified. The heavy rain, though not uncommon, seemed to put the carp off. They tend to shut down during such storms on this lake.

By morning, I had little to show for my efforts. A couple of faint bleeps on the alarms were the only signs of activity. At 1:30 PM, I started doubting my setup. Could my rig have tangled on the cast? It shouldn’t have, but once the thought crept in, it was impossible to ignore. Deciding to reel in and check, I opted to change both hook baits to pop-ups, hoping to entice any curious carp lurking nearby.

The Tufted Duck Incident

By mid-afternoon, I was back in the bivvy when one of the rods gave a sharp beep. Excited, I rushed over, only to find I had hooked a tufted duck. The bird had taken a liking to my pink pop-up and seemed rather unfazed by the ordeal. After gently unhooking it and having a brief, one-sided chat about the perils of stealing bait, I released it back into the water. Hopefully, it learned its lesson.

The evening brought clearer skies and a noticeable drop in temperature. The forecast had been spot on—it was going to be a frosty night. By the time darkness fell, the temperature was hovering around 1 degree. Sure enough, by morning, everything was coated in a crisp layer of frost. It was a picturesque scene but not what I’d hoped for in terms of fishing.

Watching and Waiting

The second day brought a slow, steady warming as the sun rose over the treetops. While the frost melted, I kept an eye on the water. A couple of carp rolled in the distance during the early hours, but they were well beyond my reach. The pressure remained stubbornly high, but with the promise of warmer nights ahead, I decided to stick to my plan and leave the baits out for another 24 hours.

Carp had started showing to the right of my swim, near the margins in front of the neighbouring swim. With any luck, the other angler might hook into one and push the rest of the fish toward my area. I stayed optimistic, knowing patience is often rewarded in angling.

The Final Night: A Test of Patience

As night fell, the wind shifted slightly, and the temperature climbed to a more comfortable 7 degrees. I stayed alert, listening for signs of fish. The night passed slowly, with only the occasional rustle of wind and the distant splash of carp breaking the surface. By morning, the lake was bathed in golden sunlight, another beautiful but unproductive day ahead.

Packing up is always bittersweet. The anticipation of a warm shower and a proper meal is tempting, but the pull of the water is hard to resist. As I folded the bivvy and stowed the rods, I reflected on the session. While I hadn’t landed any fish this time, the experience had been rewarding in its own way. Fishing is as much about the peace and quiet, the connection with nature, and the camaraderie of fellow anglers as it is about the catch.

Until Next Week

With everything loaded into the car, I took one last look at the lake. The water glittered in the morning sun, promising endless possibilities for the next trip. I’ll be back soon, armed with new ideas, a fresh perspective, and, hopefully, a bit more luck.

Until next time, tight lines.

Richard

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