Desperately seeking crucians.

With a title such as that you'd be forgiven for thinking I was in serious need of landing a lovely golden crucian carp. Well, I am and I am not, if that makes any sense. Really with where I live and the waters available to me, I could without shadow of a doubt go out and catch myself a crucian pretty easily, but the truth is that I only have eyes for one sort of crucian and it just happens that those are the hardest sort to catch round these parts as they are basically few and far between.

You see all crucians are not created equal... in my eyes anyway. In his well regarded crucian bible, 'A crock of gold: seeking the crucian carp', Peter Rolfe describes two distinct shapes of crucian carp; one, long and shallow which grows up in a relatively predator free environment and thus survival is not dependant on shape; the other, a classical round shaped crucian variant, that natural selection has determined due to its depth being to great too fit in the predatory perches mouth. The narrow variant is available commonly around the Midlands in quite a few pools including Snitterfield reservoir, which boasts an old population such as the one below and a whole new generation which was stocked few years ago to cement the reservoir as a top crucian venue for years to come.

The more rarer and archetypal variant though is much harder to find no matter where you come from. It is this disc-like crucian that I really wanted to catch this year, as a long time quest to actually catch just one of these special fish from Napton reservoir came to fruition and I landed four in one session last year. I honestly thought having finally done the impossible I might have satiated the urge, but the reality is that catching some has only made my need to catch them even worse. This picture alone has seen me return time and time again this year just for a chance to catch one more.

I have purposely kept away from blogging about the numerous failures to catch one of those golden pixies time and time again, as frankly I would have got very boring by now. Literally, I have spent half of my fishing time sitting on the banks of Napton mornings and evenings watching and waiting. I've spent so much time on there that I can tell some of the ducks apart merely by their demeanour. I've spent so much time sitting in silence that I've noticed that not only does Napton have a very shy population of water voles, but its stony margins are also home to bullheads which dart in and out of the rocks. As I've sat quietly waiting for my float to dip or rise so much as a millimeter I've seen plenty of Napton sunsets and now have developed a very keen appreciation for a good tench roll.

One thing I can say is the pest captures over the summer have really been great. Napton has so much more to offer than I ever thought in the past. The fish I've seen these last few months have honestly blown my mind. So much so in fact that I am already planning to have few sessions back on the venue once the weather cools a bit and the summer species go off the boil. Roach will be the target and why not when I've already caught fish to 1.10lb and pound fish have become very common. The Rudd to have blossomed in here and like their cousins, might continue to feed as the winter approaches. Saying that there does seem to be a few odd hybrids kicking around as well.

The tench sport was always regular this summer, but with the clear weedy conditions it has proved to be hard fishing in daylight hours in the margins at least. Evenings on the other hand have been madness, with catches of five fish one after another being the norm once the light drops and they find my carefully laid crucian traps. The tench have been so keen on my methods that sadly I've had to step up my tackle just to not get destroyed every time one comes along, hence I've fished probably a pound or so heavier gear than I would like to on such a venue. The rewards for that small compromise has been some lovely conditioned tench.

It wasn't until the other day that I strayed away from this crucian quest and with the summer ticking away I felt that sticking one in the net for this year's challenge was quickly passing me by. So with that in mind I did a session on Snitterfield reservoir to tick that box. Though that wasn't as simple as I expected it to be, as where the tench at Napton have proved very susceptible to my method the bream at Snitters were downright mugs for it. I spent a very hot and uncomfortable afternoon working my way through a good twenty of them and a fair few hybrids to conclude to stop feeding bait to encourage them. Half an hour bite-less proved enough quiet for at least one of the original crucians to drift in over the bream polished spot and put a pound and two ounces on my score sheet.

As I sat looking at my year planner at work a few days ago I realised that this little endeavor had consumed a large portion of the year and with a holiday fast approaching I had to draw a line under this crucian quest. So with that in mind I planned a final trip to Napton in search of gold. The only difference between this session and every other one before it was the addition of some very crucian carp looking bubbles emanating from the reed bed close to where I was fishing. They though came to nothing and my vigil ended once again with a streak of hard fighting tench before the sun set on my final attempt to catch those illusive Napton crucians.

Weirdly I don't feel the slightest disappointment in not actually catching one of Napton's bars of gold. I have actually really enjoyed spending all this time trying to pick a needle from a haystack. I can say with some certainty that I saw two crucians roll in a very specific place more than forty feet out from the bank and should I have been inclined I might have set up a feeder rig or something to try and hang one up, but I was not inclined, as doing so just feels little vulgar to me. Seeing those individual bubbles rising round the float and hitting that tiny bite before nervously playing a little circling giant is what I want and should it take me another decade to get that then I am prepared to sit and happily wait amongst Napton's reeds for it to come.

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.

Gently and gingerly does the trick.

When I went back to Snitterfield the other night I had the preconceived idea that as dusk crept in it might be the best possible time to ambush some big crucians. On a more idyllic evening that might well of been the case, but the night in question was less than idyllic by far. The day leading into the night was a real doozie. Swirling winds and interment squally showers had cooled not only the air but the water too.

My first real inkling that a major change had happened was when I dipped a bait box into the edge to damp down some ground bait. The moment my hand touched the water I realised the temperature had fallen by a good few degrees. When I last dipped my hand in the clear water four days prior it was noticeably hot, like an indoor swimming pool. Today, although not shockingly cold, it was much cooler and that alone was enough to rise my suspicions.

When I cast my uber light pole float rig out over the weed the random wind towed it all over the shop and when set over depth by my normal inch or two, the movement was enough to submerge my delicate float. A bit of perseverance resulted in two respectable silver roach, but that in itself was a worry as if the marauding roach were over my bait then the crucians weren't likely to get a look in. A quick change of float was made. A still fine but slightly more weighty Drennan antenna would enable me to hold fast against the tow, whilst still registering those tiny hints of bite crucians give should they be able to get on my feed.

Re-rigged I swung a small cast over the spot, reeled down hard to sink the line and put the rod on the rest. Moments later the float rose a little, the tell tale bottom shot weight removed as a fish mouthed my bait, and in the blink of an eye it disappeared and I go to strike. But the rod never got higher than my shoulder as the fish powered off. As I was setting up the new float I had seen a patch of tench bubbles further down the bank, so I assumed that a good tench had moved onto my bait and was now attached to the end of my line.

Even using a light match rod, three pound line and size 18 to 2.8lb silver fish pellet hook link I thought if I went easy I could maybe, just maybe, land the fish. Moments later my idea it was a tench went out the window when I saw a white belly flash deep in the lake. Now thinking it was a small carp I reassessed my predicament and concluded yes, as long I am very, very careful I should be able to beat a small carp.

Fifteen minutes later my rod was hooped in a very worrying way and my line was singing as it cut through the wind. This was by far a much larger carp than I thought and my little 20" net was looking a little under gunned for the job ahead. Luckily Thad the bailiff was fishing not far around the lake and quick call had him scampering in my direction with a much larger specimen net in hand. 

How I did it I will never truly understand, but after a monumental and very careful fight I finally managed to get it onto the surface after a couple of abortive attempts. Fish always look smaller in water and as it passed over the cord we both exclaimed it might be a bit bigger than we thought. When we took a hold of the net and lifted, it suddenly looked huge. On my diminutive unhooking mat it looked even bigger... quite possibly a twenty. The scales don't lie though and after carefully zeroing the wet sling the digital display flickered between 19.10 and 19.12, before sticking on the latter.

I was in shock for the rest of the session, as was my swim which had not only been smashed to bits by the carp, but I suspect had also been cleaned out by its cavernous mouth. More ground bait and pellets were potted in but as the night drew in I saw no signs of crucians, and the only fish to pull my float under were a few overzealous  tiny tench. Mind you I didn't really care as the thought of that seemingly impossible capture more than made up for the lack of crucians whose activity seemed to have dropped right off with the fall in temperature.

Happy little fishes.

After that jaunt down south two weeks ago looking for big crucian carp I have been left with what I think is a mild case of crucianobsessionaris. Seemingly I can't get the idea of those most gentlest and our only native carp out of my head. I had plum forgotten how much fun and how much I enjoy to catch these little pixies on warm summer days, and once I again cast after them I seem unable to leave it alone.

We are lucky here in the midlands as we actually have quite a lot of access to some decent waters that hold what to all intents and purposes are true crucians. I reckon I can think of at least ten waters within twenty miles of my house that contain them. Some are age old places where a few gnarled old giant,s which are the last of their line, and others have recently been stocked with thousands of bright little discs. One of my favourites though is a bit of a mix of the two. Snitterfield reservoir has had crucians present for many years but the controlling club, Leamington Angling association, have just recently augmented their numbers with a generous injection of new fish, a necessary action of which they should be commend for. You see for some reason the population had seemingly stalled. Whether it was time that got to them and they stopped breeding, or whether it was lack of suitable spawning sights or conditions I am not sure, but the fact was that no new recruitment was being seen in their ranks. So in went a batch of perfect true blood crucians and the effects of this may have been more far reaching than expected.

It was two years ago I think when I last targeted crucians at Snitters, and on that occasion I was fishing a few months after the restock. Now anyone who fishes this bleak yet inviting pool knows on average the water is very clear and on my the visit I now recall it was as clear as I have ever seen it. So much so that I could see the ledge over which I favour fishing. On this occasion after depositing a light bed of fluffy ground bait and a liberal scattering of pellets I amused my self catching rudd whilst I waited for the spot to stew accordingly. I had not even considered fishing the spot when out of the corner of my Polaroid covered eye I spotted movement close to my bait.

What I saw has to be one of my all time top ten fishing sights. A group of five of the larger original crucians slowly drifted along the ledge homing in on my bait and behind them was a massive shoal of tiny new crucians. Although only related by species, the little ones were learning the ropes from the old guard in what I can only describe as poetic passing of the torch.

That day I caught seven of the originals and three of the tiny new fish. The babies were little more than a few inches long and no more than two ounces back then. But by now I wondered how big they might have grown and what of those old fish. Had they all drifted away as old crucians seem to do or what? So Sunday I headed back half filled with the urge to catch crucians and half filled with curiosity to see how those new crucians have done in the last two years.

In the early hours I descend the road leading to the lake and hoped as I free-wheeled down the hill that one of the few pegs I love to fish for crucians here was free. Turns out they all were and so I set up stall in a particular favourite of mine where a weed bed fills the space between the bank and the ledge. For there is no more romantic vision of English summer than a float framed by lillies or weed as it fishes for crucians. I spent my summer holidays fishing like this as a child watching floats on baking days next to a myriad of weed choked ponds fishing for crucians, hence it is a love I think I will never die for me.

Time has passed since my youth and gone is chunky old rod that used to make my arm ache from casting all day, and ultra light piece of carbon nowrests on my knee. Though what I am using  to catch them is irrelevant to me as I become instantly engrossed by the tiny shard of orange float just holding above the water. The first two bites are missed they are that subtle. Then on the third I connected with a fish which straight away makes all the right moves. I love that surging fight crucians make in close quarters. There constant vibration as the move quickly up and down in the water betrays them instantly. So light is my line that I dared not lift this one out and so I overcompensate by netting it, and the first fish of the day is one of the new crucians.

These new fish have at a conservative estimate tripled in size in two years and are now perfect little crucians of around six ounces. Their bodies have grown deep and the silveriness of youth is replaced by deeper gold and hints of black like the older fish. If these fish continue in this vein then it wont be long till they make a pound, and hopefully the few fish with the right genes in their blood and what they could achieve size-wise, might make Snitterfiled the best big crucian water in the Midlands.

As the morning wears on many more perfect little discs of gold get caught and something else becomes apparent. They seem rather happy! I can't say I have ever seen this behaviour anywhere else other than at marsh farm which is also stacked full of crucians. But the still youthful little ones repeatedly jump out of the water all around my swim. Its not like carp whose breaching generally seems for a reason, and its not like the laboured rolling of tench and bream, its more joyous. Like they are doing it for fun because they are happy. I am sure there is some scientific explanation but to me right now they look like kids bombing into a swimming pool.

Around mid morning I am sure I bump off a better fish in a less productive half hour. After topping up the bait and switching to try and catch roach of the top for a while until I gingerly recast on the freshened spot and straight away something is interested. A slight rise and slighter dip is enough for me to strike whilst crucian fishing and on this occasion I was dead on. A similar fight to all the the others ensues but this one put a much better bend in the rod as it leads me a merry dance around the weed. Though it keeps very low in the water and out of sight I know for sure its a crucian. Then I spot it circling through the clear water and I can see its a good fish. Then when it slides into my net I realise it's a decent size fish for this venue and maybe a little above the average size, or is it....

For as long as I have been fishing this lake the old crucians very rarely make more than a pound and a few ounces. This one though is knocking on the door of two pounds. Now either I have by pure chance caught one of the biggest residents on my first session back, or maybe that injection of smaller fish has added a little competition to the older fishes stagnant lives. Having those new hungry usurpers gallivanting all round the place may have actually served to gee up the old fish and caused an inadvertent growth spurt late in life.

Later when the bailiff comes round to check tickets the subject was broached, and low and behold it turns out they do seem to be getting bigger. Though his stories of three and even four pound fish are a little hard to digest and the recent picture of a three pound plus fish that emerged may hint at some guestimated weighing. But nonetheless, this long narrow strain of crucians might well be getting bigger and that thought alone is more than enough to make me start planning one last mid week foray back, to make further float fished enquires into the matter.