In honour of others joy.

At Napton reservoir there are those who fish for carp, those who fish for tench and then there are those who pretend to fish for tench but are really hoping for something much rarer. I think the reason that those of us who pretend to fish for tench but are really after something else persist with this ruse is simple; we would be categorized as mental by others or even think ourselves mad if we admitted we were after crucian carp. 

Napton is rife with tench no matter what anyone says; literally at times you would think the bottom was paved green. Once a friend of mine, Pete, said he fished 24hrs for them and literally caught something stupid like over a hundred fish. Conversely the crucian numbers in Napton could probably be counted on a single human's fingers and toes, which in a water of its size makes them the proverbial needle in a haystack. They are the ghosts of the lake as far as I am concerned and quite often their presence seems more rumour than truth. Over the years I've heard whispers on the bank that there is little more than fifteen of them in residence and no one seems to know when or if they were stocked. I even spoke to a chap well in his sixties who said he used to catch them when he first fished the lake as a young man. Things like this seem to indicate that this small group of crucians could be very old and if what I have read is true they are quite capable of living this long. How old they are aside, catching one of these ghosts takes time. Keith off of Warks Avon is quoted as saying it took him over forty years to catch one and look what it did to him...

 ...Considering how lucky he is catching target fish then that means we normal lucked folk are in for a long wait!

It had started as any normal Napton session would; arriving very early, struggling to get a level seat position and the wind blowing in my face. This time Andy had joined me and was set up down the bank. I actually ended up back in the swim I'd fished the week before with the ripple coming onto my own bank and even though the conditions were due to deteriorate throughout the morning, the fish it seemed were on the feed. 

The tench were having it and my score with the hard fighting red eyed demons of this lake was soon settled. By fishing my usual fine tackle over a bed of Bait-Tech super G ground bait laced with casters and corn, the float soon lifted. I don't know whether I'd forgotten how hard tench in general fight or whether these particular fish are a just hard fighters, but every one hooked certainly tested the gear to its limits and more in a few cases. Disappointingly the first fish I landed had some very severe damage to its mouth from either being tethered to a rig or being mistreated by some heartless angler who consider them trash fish. Either way the matter of how the tench are being treated by certain types of anglers fishing the lake will be raised next time I see an official from the new controlling club.

Although the rain came in soaking me to the bone, the tench sport just got better and better through the morning and fish of all sizes were continuously moving into the swim and rolling all around the area of the lake we were fishing. Some were old warriors and others, like this one, looked perfect as if they had never been caught before. Seeing these younger, cleaner examples seems to indicate new fish are coming through and the future of the Napton tench fishing looks good.

Somewhere in the rain the session changed in a big way when Andy breathlessly shrieked he had a crucian on. I shit you not, from down the bank I could see a grown man shaking as he repeatedly said "Please don't come off." When that net lifted around that bar of gold you'd have thought that Andy had just scored the winning try for England at the Rugby World Cup. I don't think I have ever seen him so happy with a capture and I have to say I was over the moon for him as it was the most stunning old creature I have ever laid eyes on.

It wasn't his biggest ever crucian but I think it was possibly the best he'd ever caught, and why shouldn't it be when he's been trying for ten years to catch one of these Napton Ghosts. All I can say it well done mate, you deserve it.

Really that should have been the perfect way to end this post, but I could not not include this string of shots I took of Andy releasing the fish back into the clear water, as it is simply the best group of photos I have ever taken, and what is shocking is that I used my camera phone to get them!

Off she goes.

Ghosts and freaks.

The cooling wind felt heavenly as it whipped along the valley across the pool and straight into my face. Every gust that broke over me helped towards clearing the fuzz from my head that had developed in the four hours preceding dawn where I'd flitted in and out of consciousness. Still though I was only half awake, not that it made much difference as the fish hadn't turned up onto my bait as yet, so I just sat in a trance looking at the float but not looking, if you know what I mean. I was however about to get the waking up I needed to kick start my morning...

My florescent orange tipped pole float did a little pirouette and rose from the water showing it's shoulder a little as if some of the shot had just fallen off the line. Anyone looking would have seen a visibly perplexed twist to my face, but that wasn't really my fault as my brain wasn't totally in gear as yet. In my fuddled state it never occurred to me that the reason my float seemed to be looking like a three year old had shot it was that something big was below lifting it up. Still dazed and confused I watched it move a foot left to right before lifting the pole clumsily straight up. But the only thing that happened was the expensive elastic pulled out in resistance to what I thought was the bottom.

"Ahh F#^*!.......Oh F#^*! it's moving"

Truly I never expect there to be any particularity big fish swimming around in commercial lakes. I know when the owner pitches them to prospective customers there's always a thirty that ain't been caught since it went in, or plenty of twenty's if you can catch them, but  I always take this information with a pinch of salt. Mind you when you're fishing for big perch and not carp anything becomes a bother in light gear and the fish I was attached to was, in my opinion, a little bit on the big side for pole fishing.

There was no heroic playing of an unseen beast on my part; it was more like a hung over giant gnome clinging onto five meters of pole whilst a couple of meters of high-tech hydro elastic did all the work. Mind, the fish wasn't giving it the big one either; it too seemed to be in just as much as a daze as me and just plodded around like a huge wet sack. For a while I wondered if I might have have hooked a galactic record bream of fifty pounds or more, until I saw something in the water which indicated the fish was commonly weird.

It was a bit of a squeeze to force it into my net but it did just fit. Looking down into the net I was now fully awake, my head was clear but my eyes were struggling to comprehend what was the whitest carp I have ever seen. Turned out the camera couldn't comprehend it either in the early morning light as on every attempt to do a self take using the auto timer my camera went into full metal spastic. I could actually hear the lens focusing in and out unable to decide on where to stop. After a few attempts the fish was not having any of it, and after ending up with an upside down white ghost koi slapping me in the face I wanted no more of it either. This was the best of a bad bunch but it certainly gets across exactly how white this weirdo was.

I should have know there and then as I slipped back that double figure ghost that it was going to be one of those days where the perch wouldn't get a look in, and why shouldn't it have been one either? The previous weeks drop in temperature had been reversed and even with that bit of wind it was hovering into mid teens even early in the morning. This was probably a day when I should have gone barbel fishing, but honestly right now I don't feel inclined that way. So here I was, sitting on the edge of a lake capable of producing huge nets of carp, trying to catch big perch in conditions when every instinct is telling the carp that now is the time to fill up ready for winter. Six roach and few skimmers later I caught myself that most ubiquitous of summer fish, a crucian, and further proved the point.

After that I should have gone home I think. But instead I thought maybe, just maybe, I could buck the trend or fish through the numbers and sort out a monster perch. No, no, no; I was very wrong. Feeding harder just brought the carp on the feed and holding off on the bait after they had mopped up just meant no bites, so I found myself in a difficult place. With only a hour or more left to fish I conceded to just have a good time with the time I had left and took on the guise of a match angler feeding regularly and striking all bites. It paid off and in that last hour I put five more carp on the bank along with a mess of good roach and two small tench. 

The last and final fish of the day was quite nearly as freaky as the first. This would have literally been one of the best looking fish I have ever caught if it wasn't for the bulging set of bug eyes it had. Other than that it was stunning with its complete covering of apple slice mirror scales and rich golden flanks. What this stunner was doing in a man made hole in the ground was anyone's guess. 

I think I would like to see a few more frosts adorning my car before I go rushing back to fish this venue after perch again, as it will be a while before all those freaky carps get the message from mother nature to slow down and rest up till next year.