Monday 19 April 2010

A testing weekend

This weekend I had planned two days of dawn till dusk fishing as Jacky was meant to going on a work related mission to Athens. But the small incident involving some kind of bonfire in Iceland and the closure of most of Europe's air space changed my plans before I had chance to execute them. Though after returning from a fruitless morning at Birmingham airport Jacky, the little darling she is, told me not to change my plans and continue as if she wasn't there. Though I knew it wouldn't be fair to continue with my original plan of two fifteen hour back to back sessions, it didn't take a lot of convincing for me to go off for the day.

With a few things to do before I went out, I didn't arrive at ryton till 10am by which time I could see Roger, Barry and Andy around the pool. After settling down in a swim next to Roger I stood chatting to him whilst my rods sat silently warming themselves in the sun next to the water. Roger had caught a Tench before I arrived and I hoped there may be a few more around in the mood for a big munch on a sunny day.

To cut a long story short for the next six hours not a lot happened apart from Pete, of the challenge quartet, turning up and joining me on the disabled platform for a whole ten minutes before we were moved on like a couple of naughty school boys for fishing where we shouldn't. Though in our defence we were unaware that we couldn't fish there and were more than co-operative with the bailiffs request.

After moving for the third time I found myself fishing round the back of the island, but the only thing of interest to happen here was for me to get my first sighting of the fabled ryton turtle, when it popped up next to an overhanging tree nearby.

I know it looks like a stick but I can assure you it was a turtle (terrapin)

I was about to give up hope of getting a run when a new club member who had just been talking to me regarding the pool whistled me from the road bank whilst madly waving his hands and pointing at the water.  After investigation it turned out that he had been pointing to a group of carp sunning themselves in a warm snaggy bay behind me. It took no more than five minutes for me to hastily grab up all my gear and move again and once in position the true number of fish in front of me became apparent. At least fifteen different fish were in two groups - one on the opposite bank and the other tucked away in a corner on my own bank.
On any other lake I would have gone for a floater approach, but ryton's massive water bird population makes floater fishing impossible and irresponsible. So a couple of zigs seemed the best option. The splash of the rigs scattered the fish, but it didn't take long for them to appear back. 

There is nothing more infuriating than watching fish swimming round your bait paying little to no attention, in fact  I sometimes think your far better off not being able to see them at all. So I waited and waited then waited a little more. As I did Keith turned up with his kids and sat chatting to me whilst  I stood  within inches of the rods just in case.
As I stood nattering one of the rods went from silent to screaming as a carp hurtled towards the nearest snag. The fight was far from graceful. It was actually more brutal as the fish tried desperately to get into the snag and I tried to force it away from it. Once out from the snags the fish seemed to loose all it's fight and after declaring I didn't think it was a big fish I was shocked when a carp that looked like it had swallowed a football rolled into the net. I know there were much bigger fish amongst the group but I was made up with capture of this 13lb fish, as the carp that reside in ryton seem to be that bit more special than your average carp that can be caught at most commercial lakes. Keith did the honours with the camera and  his presence proved that Pete may be onto something with his theory that when he comes to visit whilst your fishing, the fish switch on. I may have to make some kind of Lucky Keith J totem for future use. 


Normally I would have thought that all the commotion would have scared of the fish, but straight away the group was back. But I only got one more run which turned out to be a liner where  my whole rig got shifted ten feet across the swim whilst caught on a fin.
Before I left I distributed a large amount of free offerings around the snag to try and keep any lingering fish around till the next morning.

Sunday

I returned to ryton as soon a I could get through the gate in the morning with that morbid fear you get, that I would find someone else plundering my pre baited swim. But there was only one other car there before me which turned out to be Sean (off the oche) who came over and introduced himself. After a little chat I was desperate to get back (my apologies if I was a bit distracted Sean) But once back at the swim it seemed all quiet and yesterdays fish had moved on. The rest of the morning was no better and after moving round the lake it seemed most of the residents were keeping there heads down. A fact I think Sean discovered too, as by dinner time we had both gone home leaving the lake deserted.

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