Although I love to go fishing anywhere, I
must say I have a fondness for targeting carp in the old historical waters of
England. Unfortunately, I live in the north of the country so it isn’t as easy
to fish the well-known circuit waters in the Colne Valley that are four hours
away. Instead, most of my time is spent on lesser-known waters up north where I
live in Yorkshire and the surrounding area.
One
particular venue I’ve been a member of since the beginning of June 2018 is an
old gravel pit close to Lincoln. I’d been keen to a get a ticket for a couple
of years. I was actually offered one in 2017 but I ended up turning it down
because I knew I’d not get the time to fish there that year. I always feel
guilty joining a water and not fishing it as it’s taking up the place of
someone who would.
The
lake in question lies very close to a busy railway line. It has been carp
fished for nigh on forty years, and in its hay day contained a mirror over
forty-pounds which was a massive carp for the north. These days the stock
comprises of some fifty-odd fish to upper-thirties, all battle scarred beasts
that are very hard to come by. A dozen or so of them are over thirty-pounds,
but it isn’t the size which interests the anglers here, it’s what the carp
represent in terms of credibility. Some of the oldest fish are close to
fifty-years-old, and with the water being gin clear, they are jet black in
colour, making them very desirable to the northern carper.
At
almost ten acres in size, the pit has features galore along its long narrow
length. It’s a beautiful looking venue with mature woodland surrounding both
sides, one half littered with fallen trees which make a great feature for the
carp.
For
one reason or another I didn’t get the time to fish or even visit the lake
until early September 2018. My life has been a bit all over the place this
summer as I’ve changed job and also moved house. However, I was keen to get
down when the conditions were right towards the middle of the month.
A
low pressure front was moving in, alongside strong westerly winds, light
drizzle and warm overnight temperatures. Experience told me I’d timed it right,
and with three days ahead of me I was brimming with confidence. The only thing
going against me was I knew nothing about the lake and there was no-one else
fishing!
After
a couple of quick circuits I’d narrowed it down to two swims. Both had fish
close by, tucked under some snags along a no fishing bank. One had decidedly
more than the other so in the end I went for this one as there were a few
decent chunks amongst them. I knew the bait I was using, SLK, was known for its
big fish pulling power and once I was set up ready for the first night, I just
knew something was going to happen.
All
three rods were fished tight to the no fishing bank at varying depths. One went
at 2.5ft, another at 4ft and the third at 6ft at the bottom of the marginal
slope. I’d walked to the opposite bank and spread 5kg of 20mm freebies all over
the snags. The plan was to fish all three rods along this area, each on single
matching bottom baits. These were offered on size 6 hooks, Avid Captive
hooklinks and 4oz leads.
The first night passed
uneventful. I was surprised I’d not caught, but then at 10.30am I was away with
a fast drop back and a spirited fight from a mid-twenty mirror. I was
absolutely made up to get off the mark on my first trip and knew there was more
to follow. The weather was looking good for a biggie and I sat there well into
darkness hoping it would come my way.
I
went to bed restless. It was too warm to be anything else. Another couple of
lads had turned up to fish the night. One had been telling me how he’d been chasing
a fish called Arnie for quite a while, having caught everything else from the
lake. Arnie was a common and known for getting caught from the exact spot I was
fishing. What a stroke of luck it would be to catch that fish on my first
session, I thought. I suppose I could dream, like all carp anglers do. I never
thought it would ever happen, but the next morning just on first light my
right-hand rod tightened up and I was woken by a single bleep. Straight away I
knew it was a good fish as it almost yanked the rod from my hands in a bid to
get into the snags. I’d been fishing locked up and the rod was at test curve as
I tried to hold on. Luckily it did the trick as the fish headed to my right in
an arch on a tight line.
The
next ten minutes saw me having a right tussle with whatever was on the end. It
ploughed into weedbed after weedbed in a bid to free itself from the hook. When
it eventually hit the surface I could see it was a massive common, almost too
long to fit into the landing net! Thankfully it did, as I slid its lengthy body
inside before flicking the net to get its tail safely in too. It had to be
Arnie!
It
was so long it only just fitted into a large-sized sling! I weighed it in at
bang on 36lb, not knowing a great deal about it other than what the lad had
told me the previous night: it topped out around 35lb+ and hadn’t been caught
for over twelve months. I felt extremely lucky, and just as I popped it into
the water ready to sort my camera gear, my middle rod was away in similar
circumstances!
The
line tightened like a bowstring as a heavy fish hit the surface right on the
edge of the snags. This one did quite the opposite of Arnie; it came in slow
and heavy. It plodded all the way in until it was right under the rod tip where
it kicked a couple of times before rolling onto the surface ready for netting.
It was another big fish, only this time a jet black mirror with battle scars
all over its flanks.
When
I joined the lake there were a couple of fish I particularly had my eyes on and
one was this fish! Known as the Sergeant it was a regular thirty, usually
around the 32lb mark, but on this occasion it went a healthy 34lb. I text the
syndicate leader Tom Denton as soon as I caught it, and he confirmed there had
been a lot of bait going in recently and it looked to be having an effect!
I
couldn’t have asked for a better start to my time on the lake. My second
morning had seen me land two of its most wanted fish, one of which was
certainly its biggest common and potentially its largest resident. I couldn’t
wait to get down the next week, when hopefully I could get amongst some of the
other awesome fish the lake contained.
Conditions
looked perfect for the three days I had ahead. Rain continued to fall gently in
the area as well as a nice south westerly breeze. Arriving late on the Sunday
night after the weekend anglers, I had a feeling the lake would respond to the
drop in angler pressure. I knew from texting one of the other anglers it had
been busy and very little had been out.
Like
the first trip I had a quick scout of the far bank to see if there were any
fish on show. This time, there were more down one end in a swim called Polo so
I dropped in there. One resembled The Trent Mirror which was the biggest in the
lake. I knew I’d be pushing my luck after the first trip, but if I could get
that one in my album I’d be absolutely buzzing as it hadn’t been out for quite
some time.
The
rods were set before dark, all locked-up tight to the snags on the far bank. It
was the perfect night to be fishing, the forest behind me was silent and I was
buzzing with confidence. Light rain began to patter onto the bivvy as a heavy
fish showed itself out in front. It was too dark to see it but the noise it
made was enough to tell me it was a big fish. Slowly the rings it left on the
surface began to waft back into my margins and I was able to locate where it
was. It looked to be slap bang over my middle rod! I can’t explain the feeling
I had as I drifted off to bed that night just knowing I was going to be woken by
a take.
It
took a bit longer than I expected, but at 4am the middle rod tightened up as
another big fish twas hooked! I had to act on my senses as it was still pitch
black to see what I was doing. The fish splashed away on the surface as the
lead came off on the take. It really didn’t want to come in, but I held tight
and didn’t give it an inch. I could feel the line grating on something. It was
obviously just inside the snags. I heaved as much as I dare without risking the
hook coming out and everything held strong as the line pinged free! It was now
a 50/50 battle as it headed out into open water, with just a big weed bed to
contend with. I sensed the line was well away from the direction of the weed
and eventually in the margins at my feet I could see the shape of a long mirror
in my torchlight. My mind started to run through the pictures of the residents
I had on my phone. Nearly all of the mirrors were short and dumpy, apart from
one…The Trent Mirror! Surely I’d not got lucky again so soon into my campaign?
A
few moments later, the fish was in my net, and sure enough it was the biggest
carp in the lake! What a stroke of luck. Some venues you work so hard to get
the fish, and others you drop onto something which makes it look easy. The lake
had a reputation for being tough but this time it was my turn to get them
quick. Less than an hour later I was in again, with another A-Team member known
as Wrinkly, perhaps the most ancient-looking carp in the lake! It looked almost
as old as me (nearly 50!), with barnacle-like growths all over its flanks. It
was an awesome fish and I felt honoured to be holding it. I finished the
session with another couple of smaller residents the next day.
I
was on a high with the way things were going. I couldn’t seem to put a foot
wrong so I planned another three days the following week. I repeated what I’d
done on the previous two trips, beginning with a circuit of the lake and
settling into a swim where I’d seen the most fish. Once again, this was in the
Polo where I sprayed 5kg of SLK all along the edge of the snags. The noise of
the baiting moved the fish out but I knew they’d return. I had a bit more time
available on this occasion so I sat and watched. Only a few minutes later they
returned and almost immediately started upending on the bait. I was like a kid
at Christmas as I raced back to the opposite bank to set up!
There
was nothing fancy about my approach. All I did was fish to the palest areas of
bottom as tight to the snags as I could safely get. When I climbed the trees to
get a good vantage point, the pale areas stood out like a sore thumb amongst
the surrounding black. They’d obviously been cleaned by the fish, and were
likely the spots where they entered and left the snags. I needed pinpoint
accuracy to hit them, but after a few goes I had all three rods right on the
money!
I
think the saying goes ‘When your luck’s in, your luck’s in’ and that’s exactly
what happened the next morning. You could set your watch for bite time at first
light as I went on to land yet another brace of thirties! I’d obviously dropped
on something that the fish loved. I now had six of the top seven A-Team members
in my album, including all of the biggies I wanted when I joined. The only fish
left on my Most Wanted list was The Woodcarving. It didn’t make the top ten
when it came to size, but as its name suggests, when it came to looks, it was
number one!
The
Woodcarving is one of the oldest carp in the Lincoln region. Its reputation
stretches well beyond the local area too, and it was seeing this fish in a
magazine feature that had originally drawn me to the lake. It hadn’t been
caught for well over a year and its lack of appearances had shrouded it in
mystery. Rumours were circulating that it had passed away. However, my next
circuit of the lake in the afternoon saw me face to face with it in one of the
snags. It was all on its own, well away from the main shoal of fish. I had to
make the decision of staying in the Polo where the majority of the carp were or
move to the middle part where I’d seen The Woodcarving. Intuition told me to
stay put but before I knew it I was packed down and set up in The Point
opposite where I’d seen him. As I settled into the evening it felt the right
thing to do. I even turned on the video camera and filmed some footage of me
talking about The Woodcarving.
Some
things in life are just meant to be. I’m a big believer in fate, more so as I
grow older. This was one of those moments. That night I had just one take. It
was right on first light, when after a spirited fight there in my headlamp was
one of the most gorgeous carp I’ve ever laid eyes on. The Woodcarving was
resting in my net, its gills gently wafting away as its beautiful scales
glistened in the beam light. What a capture to cherish.
From the moment I first stepped foot on
this historical lake, everything went according to plan. I couldn’t have
written a better script. I had caught a season’s worth of carp, including all
of the fish I wanted, in only nine nights of fishing! It wasn’t ever about size
on this occasion; it was only ever about their history. Special carp don’t come
around very often, and for the north of England, these beauties were of the
highest pedigree. It was a chapter in my angling that I’m unlikely to ever
repeat, and one I will cherish for many years to come. Watch the video blogs about my fishing on this venue here: https://youtu.be/jBaASkVug2c and https://youtu.be/L-vO4cGO30o
