Get him boys.

I reckon I nearly got lynched the other day whilst out fishing. When I told my better half that she didn't seem at all surprised. Mind you she's always been of the opinion that there is a tiny part of my personality that brings out the worst in people and who am I to argue with that as she's a saint in my eyes and I nearly push her over the edge on a regular basis.

How this impromptu hanging nearly came to be was thus: I've been feeling a little pressured (by myself) to fish the rivers right up until the end of the season, but frankly they're a bit shit right now and I've been itching to check out a pool or two that I have discovered are showing some big perch potential. Anyway, a few things came together where it seemed getting to the river would be out of the question and with weather being almost conducive to still water fishing I took a chance and headed to one of the pools I wanted to investigate. The other thing I also wanted to do was finally have a go with my new Greys fifteen foot float rod which I've been gagging to use.

So after BB's swimming lesson, a pub breakfast and depositing my young at Nanny's for the weekend, I arrived around lunch time at my intended venue. As these commercial pools go it's pretty run of the mill with thirty or forty platform pegs, a couple of small barren islands and a smattering of anglers trying to catch deformed mouthed carp. There were seven or so chaps dotted around the pool and most of them were in the general vicinity of the feature I most fancied, in a quiet area behind one of the islands. On my way round the pool I chatted to a few of the residents and confirmed that only one chap had caught and that was a single small carp first put in, and the rest of them understandably disappointed by the lack of action. On a previous recce I found out about a deep channel in front of a reed bed close to where water trickles into the pool. The depth and cover along with the water entering the pool made it an obvious hot spot for any species in most weathers so that's where I pitched up camp.

One of the reasons I wanted a fifteen foot rod was so as I could use pole rigs to fish for perch as well as tench and crucians in the summer. The idea being that I can fish to a decent range out pretty much as if I was using a short pole and have all the control which that entails, without any of the pole accessories that you really need to use a pole correctly and that hamper mobility. The one pole accessory I have really pulled back into my armory is the pole pot which last year became a mainstay of my float fishing kit and this quickly came into play after I plumbed up and settled on a ledge which ran parallel to the target reed bed. Even as warm as the sun felt on my back I was cautious with the bait and potted in a half a pot of minced prawn, chopped worm and casters onto a very tight area. Moments later my lob tail hook bait sank onto the spot and I watched the yellow and red tip float cock and sink to half depth leaving only the red top showing.

If by now you hadn't figured out where this was going, then here we go. I didn't even have chance to react to the first bite as by the time it had registered that my float had gone the rod tip was bent round and I was playing what felt like a decent sized carp. Happily as described by the manufacturer, my new rod had gone from its stiff rigid state to a pleasing parabolic curve and even with a panicky carp bashing around in the shallows it felt like I had loads of power in reserve. In no time at all the fish had been subdued into my waiting net.

After netting and photographing a rather pleasing mirror I took it well away from swim to release it. It was on the way back that one chap congratulated me and his mate grumbled something about me having a secret bait. So of course the next cast I made onto spot was obviously going to produce the second carp straight away. I actually heard the grumbling chap say, "he's making us look stupid here", as I played the fish. Then as I got rid of that unwanted worm thief the chap and his mate both aired their opinions that I either knew the lake inside out or was using some mysterious illegal bait. I'd say you couldn't write what happened next, but you can and it did! Third cast and boom, third fish on and it's hard to hide fifteen feet of bent carbon on a well cropped commercial pool from seven bored anglers. I didn't hear the chap approach but I certainly heard him proclaim "worms" at the top of his voice to his mates and turned  to see one of the guys standing behind me before he turned off and say "well, I know what to bring next time" as he walked away from my bait box.

Thank god the bites dried up after this and my streak that unsettled the locals evaporated with it. After this I was reluctant to bait up too much in case of drawing in more flipping carp as they seemed to be hungry even if I was the only one catching and my free bait was the special of the day. Eventually I had to bait up and when another pot of bait went in the carp again quickly found it. After catching one smallish carp I moved the rig off of the bait for a while until the carp I hoped cleared up and left. After a suitable amount of time had elapsed I slowly lowered the worm tail bait on what I hope was a spot devoid of carp, and it was. Half an hour later the float rose exposing the yellow stem under the red tip and quickly dipped away. I struck and felt an almost hard thump before the rod bent under pressure and the pressure quickly released sending the rig into the air.

I was sure the bumped off fish was a perch and thinking it might still be around I dropped the rig straight back in. A further thirty minutes without a bite and I had no choice but to roll the dice one last time. With less than an hour before I had to be off the bank I once again baited the spot with more chopped goodness and let it stew for a while before daring to cast the rig. It was an exact repeat of the previous scenario only this time the fish was on. The fight was pure joy on the new rod and quickly the fishes identity was confirmed as a big perch before it slipped into the net. 

All I can say is what a stunner of a commercial fish it was! If every one I catch from this ignored little venue is this good looking then I will be back time and time again to risk a lynching from the local gobshites as fish like this are well worth the risk and more, especially as I have heard they grow to twice the size of this one in there.

I luurve gold.

I think I might be in love with a fish.... or should I say I am in love with the idea of what a specific fish should look like. You see this year I have tried to be a little more species-specific in targeting what and when. For an extreme example, carp fishing in January would be a no-no, whereas pike fishing in October would be an, ooh yes. Though these are extreme examples it gives an idea of what I have tried to do. The whole reason I am attempting to keep up with this ethos is quite simply a case of time management. Having so many species I wish to fish for throughout the year it makes sense for me to fish at the optimum times when I am more likely to catch them, rather than wasting time fishing fruitlessly for other species because want has superseded sense. It is this want that has in the past resulted in me missing my window of opportunity to fish for one species whilst fishing for other. It was one such missed opportunity, and the species involved, which inspires me now.

I nearly went to the canal the weekend just passed, but when the idea of returning to Snitterfield to fish for Crucians arose, it just seemed the right fish at the right time. I still kind of regret not fishing it last year and having done so well already there this year I had to go back again, and boy, how well it went.

To regale a story of me fishing a classical lift float would be an honour, but it would also so be a lie. As great as this method is for registering awkward bites I think in all honesty there is more sensitive methods. You see, once upon a time I harboured a real passion to become a garish clothing clad match man; I had all the gear and diligently practised the art of pole fishing, and although that phase of fishing passed for me lot of the techniques I learnt have become very useful parts of my now more specimen orientated approach.

Specifically two aspects of pole fishing have blended integrally to my crucian fishing. The first is the use of a pole pot. Quiet, accurate and reliable these ninja like devices get bait onto tiny areas with zero noise and disturbance. They even allow you to do as I did on this occasion and deposit small compacted balls of ground bait which break down on the bottom along with loose fluffy ground bait which clouds up the water dispersing scent far and wide at the same time.

The second is the use of float floats. Until anyone truly begins pole fishing a lot they have zero appreciation for the millions of types of pole floats available, or what they are used for and when. The simple fact that makes me use them time and time again is the resistance factor of zero they possess. This is where they win out for me over any other methods float fishing for crucians. The tiniest rise on even the finest float fished lift float style translated to a pole float is a sail away.

So Sunday morning I arrived a very low reservoir and began plumbing up the spot I liked with my 4 x 10 kc carpa straight ace float. The float was only one part of my attack for the session and the other main component was a fourteen foot float rod which I intended to use rather like a pole to keep my rig on a very short line. With a clear level spot located I potted quite a large quantity of my all time favourite Bait tech special G green ground bait in along with some generous amounts of 3mm halibut pellets. It is at this point that I think the  match angler in me might have been thinking 'I might be overdoing it a bit' and where the specimen angler in me would was just telling me to 'wedge it in and they will come'.

By the time I had finished setting up, the spot was bubbling like a cauldron and I was thinking I may have done for the crucians and attracted the bream, but first flick in my pellet made it to the bottom unhindered then the float dipped slightly before sliding away and my first crucian juddered off around the swim.

The first cast contacting a crucian was a good sign. Then the flood gates opened and they flowed through one after another. I was truly amazed at how much of a dominant force this new stock of crucians have become in snitterfield. I landed easily ten of them before they went off the boil and not one other species managed to get a look in. Their growth rate seem phenomenal too! I caught a few of these on my last visit only two months ago and compared to then the average size seems to have increased by a large amount. Every single one was immaculate. Deepening bodies, scale perfect and fighting fit.

After topping up the swim I switched to fishing an up-in-the-water rig over a area I had been trickling maggots onto. I am little haunted by a roach I saw caught a few years ago which was massive hence every time I have fished snitterfield since I have always spent some time fishing up in the water where these roach seem to hang out in the summer. Before even switching to this second line I had seen swirls of flashing silver shortly after each pouch of maggots went out.

First chuck I hooked a strong fish which turned out to be a roach bream hybrid of well over two pounds. Then after that it was pretty much all roach! I had five around a pound on the trot. The biggest being this long lean 1.3lb fish. In autumn condition it would easy make one and half and if it had a deeper body type it might even make that sacred weight on a good day.

Its surprising how much maggot you can use trying to keep these fish frenzied up in the water. In no time at all I was scrabbling around in the bait tub trying to scrounge the last of my two pints of maggots up for freebies. With them gone so were the fish, just like that.

Maggots gone it was straight back onto the inside line after those perfect little pixies. And they were there and waiting. Six or more brought a smile to my face before a carp turned up. I wasn't as lucky as on my last visit and the culprit smashed me up quicker than I could blink. I once watched a carp clean out a swim I had built up all morning in about two or three sucks here at snitters. So before re-rigging I once again topped up the swim.

After settling back into the swing of thing the crucians came along in small spurts. Once I caught one then three, four or five more would follow in quick succession. The only thing that put a dampener on this crock of gold was the slowly increasing rain. Thinking it would only be a shower I neglected to bother with the umbrella and as the wind was coming straight into my face it just would never of worked. Even with the crucians still obliging I could feel my self getting wetter and wetter even though the water proof top was holding off most of it, the damp still found its way into my clothes.

By the time I had had enough of the incessant rain I reckon I had landed maybe twenty five or more of these perfect little crucians and although I didn't get into any of the big old fish this session has reiterated to me of what potential this water now has.

With so many text book crucians like this one feeding  as hard as they are and seeming growing so fast Leamington angling association might well have one of the top crucian waters in the entire country on their hands in years to come, and I just love them so I can see me being a Leamington member for years to come.

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.