Cupping out larger cups of groundbait meant that current groundbait supplies had to be replenished. The large groundbait tub that once held fat balls for birds was kept, the remaining micro-pellets and two-millimetre pellets were added to it, green and brown groundbait were ordered, delivered, and added, large scoops of bird seed were then added along with some table salt, and the sweetcorn that wasn’t used on the last fishing trip was mixed in to give a bit of stand-out colour. Minimal liquid added was fish oil, hot and spicey liquid, drops of mango concentrate, and then the whole thing was mixed with a large spoon to give what looked like enough for two-week’s fishing.
My experimenting brain worked on overload throughout the week. In my head, whichever lake we fished in the coming week, this would be the procedure that I would follow. My three top-two kits would be set up for and plumbed up for ten-metres in front of me, that’s for normal drift down to the lake bed, and also for a sort-of pellet waggler, and one top-two for down the edge with a bulk at the hook length as that was so successful at Reed Lake. But, as the week went on, the air pressure kept rising, and I knew that one of these top kits might have to be for bread. Not the usual punched bread, but a lump of crusty bread, the hook through the crust and standing, unseen, out of the water, with the white facing down towards top-feeding carp.
As normal I would large-cup groundbait to both areas with my thumb on the break between the number five and the base section of my pole. Different to all other times would be that after the first shipping out of groundbait in front of me, the second large cup would be half full and would also contain a fully-loaded method feeder. That method feeder, containing a pink wafter and sticky pellets, would have its main line run back to a method feeder rod with the reel having the bail arm open and the rod on its rod-pod. Once dropped into place, the method feeder position, some nine metres off the bank, would stay in the same place once the bail arm of the reel was closed, the pole float would fish within inches of it, pellets could be fired at the float and then sink into the vicinity of the pole bait and the method feeder, and fish would come from far and wide to see what was happening. Of course, accuracy in further casting would be paramount, with pole position resting on knees remaining the same, an accurate marker being chosen on the far bank, and the method feeder being placed into position using the large pot on the pole each time.
My only problems could be, overfeeding, and or, having to ship the pole in quickly if the method feeder rod alarmed. Obviously, Wil would be invited to either join in with the nine-metre line, his feeders fished near mine, if he wanted, but that could mean the rapid reeling in of a number of rods if a bite on any of three rods or the pole was encountered. Maybe this course of action would suit the specimen lake at Hazel Court where bites are few and far between.
As the week went on the air pressure became higher and higher. With our barometer showing 1029, the weather app for our area said it was 1026 and would steadily increase to 1028 by Tuesday. A rethink was needed as all four rods came up from the garage.
Consulting Wil gave me his answer that he wanted his usual setup, in his own swim, with his own rod-pod, so it seemed that independence on the lake bank was setting in. Checking over his rods, he was good to go.
My two rods were stripped down and both fine tips were removed. One rod was set up with a zig rig, the line going through the paternoster type arm for the two-ounce weight, then through the float, and finally to a spiked hook length with a size fourteen hook. This rod would end up nowhere near my pole-float and would probably be cast into the middle of whichever lake we were on and the spike on the hook would go through a pop-up that could be left on the surface, or slowly sunk until fish were found to be feeding.
The other rod (I keep experimenting) had line through a link swivel which was tied in place, the rest of the line going down to a normal method feeder set up with a banded hook to copy Wil. Where my setup differed though was that the link swivel, about two foot from the feeder, received a nine-inch hook length of braid with a red and yellow piece of dummy corn on the hair, all as purchased ready tied. A lump of lead-putty was added to the line above the corn hook length and that would hopefully keep everything neat and on the bottom. My idea was to not reel in tightly once the rod was on its pod and to allow the putty to keep all line from there onwards on the deck to stop any line bites from fish in my pole swim. How to ship all this out in a large pole pot would be something to work out on the day.
On the day, we went through fishing at Hazel Court and it will forever be known as ‘Disaster Day.’
When we arrived, there were many anglers already set up, we walked about, even looked at Jim’s pond that looked snaggy, and finally set up, back-to-back, with me fishing the Specimen Lake where all the big fish were, and Wil fishing the Reed Lake where fish were obviously smaller but you got more bites.
Wil’s first bite on his method feeder, came after he’d cast out his first rod and was setting up his second. The obvious carp took his feeder from mid water straight into a bunch of lily pads within seconds of the alarm going off. There was no way that the fish was coming out of the pads and it cost Wil a hook length so after setting up his second rod he had to go back to the first to tie a new hook length to his feeder.
My disaster was next with the zig-rig having been cast out deep and the method feeder having been cast between that point and the edge to my left, it was the method feeder that alarmed. The method feeder, by the way, was too heavy for the large pot on my pole so it was cast out in the normal way. A carp that later weighed just over six pounds, picked up my method feeder and swam into the high reeds that surround the specimen lake. Normally, I could have moved down the bank, stood directly over him, and taken him slowly out of the reeds or even netted him in the reeds, but not this time. I could see that the fish was thrashing about because he was hooked but the other hook, with dummy corn on it, was hooked into the reeds.
Wil had the solution. He netted the fish and applied pressure to the net to eventually rip the paternoster hook out of the reeds. Luckily the fish didn’t suffer and was released unharmed but the dummy corn hook was cut off my line and the experiment deemed a failure while disaster day moved on.
I couldn’t believe it when Wil’s alarm went off straight after, and as I had the landing net on my lake, I took it over to him. “The expletive has gone into the lily pads again,” he grumbled. As he kept tension on the line, something pinged and I was then staring at his method feeder that had landed somehow between my sunglasses and my eyeball. “Don’t move,” I told Wil, “until you find the hook.” He found it in my peaked cap. Wil slowly removed my cap as I removed my sunglasses and we both knew that the outcome could have been very different.
I had no more bites on either rod, Wil totalled five lost fish for the day, and I spent the last two hours on the ‘specimen’ lake catching small roach, rudd and skimmer bream, throwing groundbait to the end of my top-two plus one to keep them in the swim. It kept me occupied during a period of no big bites.
On the way home in the car, we discussed that there would be good days, poor days, and disaster days. The thing was that we had to learn from them.
For Wil, casting out in front of him, with lily pads to his right, was a dangerous thing to do. On striking, he couldn’t reel in quickly enough to get the fish away from the pads and the fish seemed to know that. Fishing from the end of the lake and casting towards the pads, maybe clipped up, would be the answer because the bend of the rod could then be used to stop any run away from Wil towards the pads.
For me too there were lessons. The non-use of an extra hook was an obvious learned lesson. The fact that I have never had a bite or even an indication on a zig rig meant that the system would be relegated to the garage, again, until at least a time when fish could be seen swimming shallow out in the lake’s middle.
The biggest learning for me though was the fact that I was grumbling that the large storage box that I sit on to use my pole was not on level ground and I nearly went into the water twice. I have been coveting a seat-box, the cheapest being around three hundred and fifty pounds, and after today I have dismissed the idea and decided that instead of taking us forward, buying one would be a retrograde step.
I was enjoying the fact that I could get bite after bite, using corn on a size sixteen hook, just in front of my swim, by using my groundbait mix and catching tiny fish over and over. I was so engrossed in this action that it left no time for my two rods and you just cannot leave a method feeder to sit on the bottom of the lake for hour after hour.
No seat-box would be purchased, I would now revert to Wil’s idea of two method feeder rods or maybe make up a bunch of PVA bags, and the pole would only come out to fish either the Brecon Canal stretch owned by the Merthyr Tydfil Angling Alliance, or at the weedy Roath Park Lake, or if we fished Jim’s Lake again. Now was the time to put all the bits and bobs back onto my feeder chair, including the side tray, rod rest and butt holder.
Wil tells me he prefers when we both fish the Pleasure Lake, rather than being back-to-back on two lakes, and when you think about it, our biggest carp of just over ten pounds, came from that very lake.