26th August.


Those that have read “Newbie Anglers – Year One,” will already be aware of our circumstances, our slow progression from waggler fishing with maggots, Wil catching our first small carp, our target of each of us reaching ten pounds before the year was out, and (spoiler alert) the climax of achieving that on the very last day. (available free with Kindle Unlimited and also on Audible.)

On that last day, Wil battled bravely for what seemed an age, with a twelve-pound carp, on a pole with 18-20 elastic, the battle being so fierce that the whole lake seemed to stop what they were doing to watch. Everything after that, on that day, was going to be an anti-climax, so we packed up and drove home, leaving everyone else on the lake to carry on fishing for a further four hours, up until eight o’clock.

We needed a new incentive, new targets, maybe a new venue, maybe new methods.

The Preston Innovations, ten metre, Edge Monster, had proved itself up to twelve pounds, but if we were to progress in weights for common and mirror carp, then that pole would have to be side-lined for now and maybe brought out for pleasure fishing for smaller fish. Wil fished, without exception, a method feeder, some sticky pellets in a mould, his pink wafter on a banded hook placed in, and covered with more sticky pellets. The whole was then pressed, turned out, covered in pink haze, and cast out. One of his rods would go out in front of him, the other into his margin and this had been successful for him through the last autumn and winter, into spring and summer, from August to August of our first year, continually beating me and continually beating other anglers on the same lake.

As far as I was concerned, yes, I copied what Wil did, but I also experimented with dry PVA bags, maggot feeders, pole fishing, and pellet wagglers.

Research was needed and that for us was nothing new. A website search gave us the White Springs Fishery which was just over an hour away from our homes, which would mean an earlier start than normal. We studied the rules, assumed we wouldn’t need to book The Big Pit on a Tuesday, pinged off an email to clarify a few things, and we were given the all clear to turn up and fish using our usual methods.

We were not abandoning our first-year haunts, of course. Hazel Court Fishery and Tri-Nant Fishery will always be in our hearts. In fact, we reasoned, experience at this new venue could lead to a better hook-up rate at the Specimen Pond at Hazel Court, and could see us also fish, for the first time, the Specimen Pond at Tri Nant.

I sent for some Gemini Tackle, Ronnie rigs that I guessed I would use in PVA dry bags, and I knew that Wil would stick to his method feeders. I also sent for a collapsable canvas bucket to hold pond water to soak a carp in the weighing sling, and a canvas bag containing two mugs and cannisters for tea-bags, sugar, and coffee. Unfortunately, none of these didn’t turn up on time so we decided to have four rods on method feeders for our first adventure.

Remnants of Hurricane Erin that had hit the east coast of the US had come across the Atlantic, one arm had deposited rain overnight, and today, Tuesday was fishing day. The forecast was for it to be sunny and cloudy with only a slim chance of a shower, and then another arm of the storm would hit on Wednesday. All of this meant a cheery drop in the barometer from what had been a steady 1020 down to 1005 overnight. Good for us, we thought, from experience, especially as The Big Pit was meant to be deep.

Not good for Wil was me calling for him at seven in the morning, the car having been packed with our fishing gear the night before. He was cheery though, eager to see the new venue, and to experience something new.

The post code took us directly to the fishery, the road into the venue took us to the shop area, and before anything else, we dipped the large landing net and the stink-bag that it’s kept in. We paid in the well-equipped shop, got a map and directions to The Big Pit, and off we set. Convinced we’d read the map correctly, travelling down winding roads between the four, or is it five lakes, we stopped, made camp, cast out and sat back in our chairs under our brolly, eager for a pleasant day’s fishing.

Within seconds, Wil had a bite, reeled in saying there was nothing on his hook, and then landed a small skimmer of under half a pound.

“Have you booked and paid to fish on the specimen lake?” We were asked by the van driver behind us. We explained that we were obviously lost, offered to pay the extra to be left alone to fish, but we were told that the peg could well have been booked, so we had to move.

Moving was weird and not done in the best of spirits. Everything went into the back of the car in any order, looking as it had been on our first peg. Rod-pods went in with alarms attached to them and bobbins flapping, rods went in without being taken down and were stuck out of the back of the car, the long handled landing net went in with the three metres of handle showing because we hadn’t even bothered to telescope it down, and the chairs sat on top of the pile, keeping the umbrella from falling out.

The car, with the boot wide open, helpfully reminded us that the boot was open with a constant and annoying beeping, making us sound as if we were constantly in reverse, but we reached a peg that was labelled ‘Big Pit 6’ so knew we hadn’t gone wrong a second time.

Making camp this time was the easiest of things and took no time at all. Soon, we had brolly and seats at ninety degrees to the lake, chairs tucked in out of the wind, (remnants of that hurricane again) and rods out, all with Wil’s favourite method feeder recipe on them. We don’t need to ask each other where we are casting these days, Wil had one rod in his left-hand margin and one between him and the island in front of him, and I did a mirror image of that but on my right. Then, nothing happened.

By eleven in the morning, after two hours of fishing, we were wondering what was going on. Wil’s margin rod showed liners so we knew fish were about, but neither of us had received a bite. Bringing rods in to change the sticky pellets, we noticed some were still stuck on the method feeders, so we decided they may be a bit dry and added some blended fish oil. This seemed to help.

By twelve, mid-day, I’d changed my wafters to pop-ups of the washed-out pink variety, cut down to fit on a band, still with no sign of a bite. Then the chap from the next peg walked past and I asked if I could ask his advice and explained it was our first time on the lake. “Wafters and pop-ups are fine,” he told us, “on method feeders too, but the lake has been fished hard and the carp have become wily, so I often blank.”

This did not bode well. We knew that to catch bigger carp, you had to expect less bites, but this was all getting a bit boring. And anyway, the lake was meant to hold a good head of tench and bream as well as the carp, so where were they? When all else fails, Mr. Bream is usually on hand to add a little bit of action.

All day the weather had been strange. The wind was behind the brolly, so not felt by us, the trees, in full leaf, were being blown apart by the high wind, meanwhile, breaks in the ex-hurricane clouds made it so sunny that sunglasses and a hat were required and knees were getting sunburned.

By one o’clock in the afternoon, we were both bored. Willing to try anything, I changed my pop-ups to 8mm pellets and did this in the way we’d learned on YouTube, which was not the accepted way of doing things. The mould was filled completely with sticky micro pellets, the banded 8mm pellet and hook going in last of all, the feeder pressed into the mould, and when released, there was a pile of sticky pellets with no 8mm pellet to be seen. Hopefully then, Mr. carp would inhale the lot, the 8mm and hook going into his mouth almost by accident.

At two in the afternoon, after six hours of fishing, I got a take on the rod out in front of me. Immediately I knew it wasn’t a bream, but if it had been a carp then it felt as if it was a strange one, so early money was on a tench. Then, after the first splash, thoughts changed from a tench to a carp, a common, but a big lethargic thing with not much fight in him – until he saw the landing net. Wil had our new, small landing net ready, I explained that the big one might be needed, but he insisted that he was more adept with a small one. He scooped out a lovely looking common carp that looked a lot heavier than it’s weighed nine pounds.

I explained to Wil that I’d changed to 8mm pellets, hidden in the pile, so all four rods went out like that, but with no success.

An hour later, or so, we packed up and started on our way home. Yes, keeping on changing tactics had produced a carp, and a nice one at that, and that was a good learning experience for our next visit. It was just that we were used to more bites throughout the day at our other commercials. Even Dragonfly at Tri-Nant fishery, where Wil obtained his PB common of twelve-pounds, produced other fish on the day, and that fishery was only half an hour from us, not the hour and a quarter of this new venue.

Views were mixed on the way home. I obviously enjoyed playing successfully a nine-pound carp, but was bored for the rest of the day. Wil however, with just his skimmer from the specimen lake, said he wanted to go back. He made a decision. Dragonfly at Tri-Nant next, then back to White Springs, and finally Hazel Court. That way we had three venues until winter time, and two once we reached winter and Hazel Court closed.