I can’t believe that yet another angling adventure with my good friend Rob ended in an unexpected manner, our early departure due to flooding. However, in the grand scheme of things, common sense had to prevail, and, reluctantly, I would attribute this turn of events to our advancing age.
The option of arriving late yesterday evening was on the table, but for the sake of a single night, I opted to prioritize the comfort of my own bed. I’ve learned that nothing beats waking up refreshed and well-rested before a fishing trip.
My day began at the early hour of 5:30 AM as I loaded up my car. The weather forecast for the day was promising with sunshine, although not the most ideal conditions for the fishing spot we had chosen. However, the forecast for the following night and the next day indicated a different story, with a barometric pressure of around 1005 millibars, and the wind direction seemed a bit unpredictable.
My aim for this trip was to arrive at the lake early on Sunday morning, ahead of the day anglers. This approach would, unfortunately, mean that the night anglers were fast asleep, which was not a bad thing, considering their well-deserved rest. I had already identified the area I wanted to set up in, as I learned that the estate manager had removed a large overhanging tree on the left-hand side, and I was eager to explore that newly opened space. I hoped to find it unoccupied by fellow anglers as I wanted to tread lightly and not disturb anyone’s fishing experience.
As I entered the gate and turned right, my heart leaped with joy upon seeing an entirely empty car park. The perfect start to the day. I took a leisurely walk without any fishing gear, exploring the swim. It looked magnificent, and what excited me most was that it had now opened up, allowing access to the margins. This was something I had been waiting for, as it used to be possible years ago before the tree had grown to obstruct access. The wind might be a bit of an issue in this newly exposed swim, but I certainly couldn’t complain about the removal of that tree.
I felt compelled to give this swim a try, not necessarily with the expectation of catching fish, but to understand it better. There was only one weekend available before the lake closed for the season, and I couldn’t guarantee another opportunity, so seizing the moment to learn something new was imperative.
I returned to my gear, collected my bivvy and a few bags, and during my second trip with the barrow, I noticed something different in the first swim, Badger Island. As I approached the swim, I realized there was a brolly set up on the left-hand side, along with a pair of rods, but there was no car to be found. The angler was nearby, and I decided to stop for a chat. He had already landed a nice mirror and was planning to depart later in the day. It turned out that casting too far to the right from that swim was a challenge, something we knew from years of fishing with Ian on this lake. I decided to inquire and ensure I wasn’t intruding, maintaining an old-school angler’s etiquette that, unfortunately, seems to be overlooked by many modern anglers who display a lack of respect for others.
With this consideration, I decided to simply flick out a couple of three-bait stringers to my usual spots and wait until the angler had left before doing any further marker work or spombing. This decision, I believed, would not only respect the other angler’s presence but also avoid any potential disturbances caused by my early morning activities.
My camp was set up, and I took the opportunity to dry out some of my gear from the previous day. This was a welcome task, and with that done, it was time for a well-deserved brew.
I waited until around 1:30 PM before reeling in both rods and deploying a marker float to locate the lovely smooth, silty areas I had in mind. Additionally, I identified a new spot slightly to the left of where I had initially planned to fish. Once I was satisfied with my findings, I proceeded to spomb out 10 spombs over each rod, recast both rods onto their designated spots, and savored the last rays of sunshine in this swim before they disappeared behind the trees. By about 4 PM, I prepared my meal, which felt more like lunch considering the time of day. If I felt the need for more sustenance, I had the choice of noodles or more noodles, and if necessary, I could always make a quick trip to the shop. However, I preferred not to leave the lake, as it somehow disrupted my fishing routine. There’s a strange, almost spiritual connection between myself and the water, and venturing away from it was something I approached with caution.
I had also come to realize that if I wanted my gear to be dry, I would have to vacate the lake tomorrow by 11 AM, which was a bit inconvenient but necessary. I could only hope that the weather would take a turn for the better and keep the rain at bay.
At 1:38 AM, I experienced an utterly frustrating moment, losing what felt like a substantial fish. It had all the hallmarks of a big one – strong runs, intermittent gains and losses of ground, and a sense of a hard-fought battle. Just as I was closing in, the hook mysteriously popped out, leaving me with that sinking feeling that every angler dreads. Trying to fall back asleep immediately after such an event was virtually impossible.
I woke up around 8:30, with the sun piercing through some thin clouds and a light mist gently hovering above the water. However, as the sun rose higher in the sky, the mist gradually transformed into a dense fog that obscured my view, leaving me able to see only the faint silhouette of the island in front of me. The temperature had dropped significantly, and my first coffee of the day was brewing. Just as I was getting settled, the left-hand rod suddenly screamed to life. This unexpected burst of activity occurred right in the middle of my podcast recording, a curious coincidence I noted for the second time.
I was happy to land a beautiful 18lb 3oz Common, and with the photographs and recordings completed, the carp was gently released back into its watery home. It was then time to catch up on my blog, podcast, and video editing before the inevitable task of packing up. My hope was that the sun would eventually disperse the mist and help dry things out before the time came to bid farewell to the lake, which was scheduled for noon. This would give me plenty of time to organize my gear and tidy up the house in preparation for my family’s return.
I started the slow process of breaking down my fishing setup just after 10 AM and ultimately left the lake by noon. Although I did not experience any further action, I was content with the results I had achieved. I held out hope for one more fishing trip before the lake closed its doors for the winter season.
Until next time,
Richard
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UK Carp & Coarse Fishing 