Panning for gold

They say you need a good breakfast to start the day, a fact I certainly believe in. But a lesser known fact I also believe in is that to start your day or fishing session you need a good sound track to get you into the right state of mind.

Personally I have a rather varied and encompassing  musical taste, and on any given journey to water I could find myself listening to anything from the Rolling Stones to Bentley Rythm Ace, right through the Rat Pack before coming back via Amy Winehouse. 

Sitting in the car I flipped the leaves of my CD collection and happened upon on perfection for the journey ahead. What else could I listen to as I cruised into the Warwickshire country side but the waling tones of the 1960's psychedelic rock legend that was Janis Joplin. 

Having finally arrived after giving the steering wheel as much of a battering as the car speakers I descended the  tree shrouded drive turning off the music as I did, as this is the point where I move from the outside world into a tranquil world of angle... Oh and I didn't want to piss off anyone already fishing as I traversed the lake side road by Janis screaming ' Take it, take another little piece of my heart' as they tried to hold their pole steady.

Turned out I hadn't of worried as I had the whole lake to myself all day: 'Score!'

On the way there I had listened to 'summer time' the song and technically it is summer time here in the UK if you'd believe it, so today I intended to angle for the epitome of English summer species: Crucian carp.

Unlike so many of the other species that I pursue Crucians don't seem to care how hot it is or what time of the day they feed. In fact in my experience on a lot of lakes they actually prefer it to be hot and stifling. I suppose this is largely to do with their uncanny ability to live in water with practically no oxygen it. They are hardly caught before the frosts end and once the first chilly nights of autumn arrive they once again become scarce.

Feeling a little classical I had opted to fish some classical kit by way of my old speedia centre pin and a old school quill float. I would have included my 13 foot billy lane cane match rod in that but sense had prevailed as a day of holding that beast is by no way relaxing...

A little bit of this bait scattered in followed by a little of that and I was off. First cast I could say that the bait never got to the bottom before it was taken, but that would be a lie, as to say this the bait would have had to got past the top, which it didn't! The first fish of the day was another summer classic, a Rudd which snatched it the instant it hit the water.

Hungry and perfectly formed there was masses of them within inches of the surface.

I had to box clever here or the voracious horde would hamper my chances of going for true gold. The answer came by way of two pints of red maggots which I began to dispense onto the water a rod length off my chosen spot. 

It did work to some extent as my baits were at least hitting bottom but still I had no choice but to wade through the masses of roach, bream, perch, Rudd and micro tench with my float dipping within seconds of the bait sinking.

As the sun neared overhead I caught sight of something very interesting. A pod of three lovely golden crucians swam bold as brass right in front of me only two feet from the bank. What happened next was pure wonder! When baiting my swim, I had done it from a little to the right of where I was actually going to fish and seemingly some of the bait had fallen in the edge and probably a bit short of the intended mark. As suddenly as they appeared they stopped in unison, all dipped and began to pick up the freebies. I watched as the pod followed the measly trail into deeper water towards my bed of waiting goodies. Sure enough moment after they disappeared into the abyss a gentle dip of my float was followed by it slowly sliding away.

I managed to pick two of them out before they seemingly slipped away to be replaced by the hungry horde again. But that little tiny insight into there movement was just too telling. As I topped up the feed I scattered a hint of bait purposely this time in a line ninety degrees from the bank leading again to my baited area.

It worked a treat and through the afternoon more pods of between three and five fish cruised into sight before duly stopping over the bait and changing course towards my trap.

Ten in total graced my net and of them, seven were some of the grand old fish that inhabit his lake; the other three were a few of the new smaller stock which was added earlier this year. I saw these tagging along behind the big boys learning the lay of the land and they will soon enough reinvigorate the ageing stock.

A photo of summer

I can't deny it. I am a sucker for a brace shot

Aside from a great catch of Crucians I caught a shocking amount of fish whilst trying to extract that streak of gold. I didn't bother to net anything other than the Crucians but I landed well over twenty small bream between 1.5lb and 3lb, an easy15-20lb of Roach, Rudd, perch, tiny tench and one of the roach topped the scales at 1.2lb.

I have to say that Snitterfield reservoir is fast becoming the jewel in the crown of LAA and to any other Leamington members. "Snitters is on absolute fire at the minute so if you want to bag up in a monstrous way get down there and don't forget some serious bait as it took me two pints of red maggots, 1.5 kilos of pellets and a couple of bags of ground bait to winkle out that lot".

God save the bream.

The first of our two bank holiday bonanza weekends I gave up to pull a real changing room job on our kitchen which has been top of my big job list since we moved into a our current home. Four days of initial  trashing and ripping followed by tender hammering and sawing and Jacky was over the moon with our sparkling new modern kitchen, which left me free the following weekend to get some fishing in.

My first trip was something I have had brewing away for a while: eels! I am sure they are present in the canal stretch we have been targeting for perch this year, so Thursday evening after work I charged home to grab my gear and headed down there to fish until morning.

Andy joined me in search of bream, and after a while another couple of lads he knows turned up out of the blue with an idea to target the local bream population themselves. This was something I wanted to keep away from so I set up a little down the canal within sight of them.

Determined to avoid both perch and bream I was cautious to try and keep off  known feeding areas of both species. I cast out one rod baited with bunch of lob worms and second baited with a small dead roach.

Intermittently through the evening my worm rod received unwelcome attentions as a shoal of bream passed near the area and finally the bobbin slowly and erratically rose as a decent but spawning battered bream of 4.4lb made off with the worms.

As the night  wore on I did get some very interesting touches here and there and around 10.30pm I got what I am sure was my only run from an eel. With no warning at all the indicator on my roach line sounded with a slow and constant run which went on for a good while as I waited to confirm a run and not a liner. Sadly my strike pulled the bait clean out of the mouth of the culprit. After this the temp dropped badly along with my confidence and I could stand it no longer it was time for home.

Friday I could have gone fishing but I felt it important to actually watch the royal wedding as it ain't that often our future king gets married. So rather than head off into the country side I spent the morning like the few billion people around the world sitting on the sofa watching TV. 

My next session was to investigate the canal Sunday morning with Jeff for the illusive silver bream which inhabit one particular area at this time of year. The wind by Sunday had really begun to blow and as a result the only fish that seemed present in the area we fished were the ever hungry hoards of mini perch. No matter where I cast my baits one of the little buggers would root it out. I only encountered one fish that was not a little perch and my hopes of a silver bream were dashed when the small silver fish turned out to be a roach bream hybrid.

We ended up moving to a more sedate area were the fishing was a little more comfortable and sat chatting about one of our favourite subjects, sea fishing; Jeff being an old hand hand and myself a novice due to go for a week long session in a few weeks time.

The final trip of the weekend was one I had in mind for a few weeks: back to Snitterfield. My original plan was to do some surface fishing for grass carp but on the way there in the afternoon I began to question my sanity as I pulled on the elevated road that leads to snitters and the true force of the wind hit me.

Being located on a orchard clad hill side this open lake can be the worst place in Warwickshire on the wrong day and this was one of them. Before fishing I took a walk around the lake to chat with some of the anglers already fishing. By all accounts it didn't seem to be fishing that well at all and the carp had not shown so much as a scale all day. So I opted for a change of plan and sought a quite sheltered corner to do some simple float fishing out of the wind.

My decision to change tack and use up my left over bait leftover from the weekend was the best decision I have made in a long time...

Fishing a 14ft waggler rod with my vintage centre pin and a light float rig only a foot off the rod tip the bites were instant. Most of the lakes resident roach seemed to be tight against the bank under the howling wind and after no less than twenty roach all between 10oz and a pound I was really chuffed. 

 An average roach.

I even switched to bread to try and root out some bigger roach but this resulted in me landing three bream on the trot of about 2-3lb. 

Three hours of constantly feeding maggots and my bait was seriously diminished so I began throwing a few pellets in for good measure which prompted the best surprise of the day as far as I am concerned. A timid sliding bite resulted in what at first looked like a small perch, but in hand I was confronted with the first of five micro tench which could not resist the soft pellets.

They don't get any cuter than this!

The sport continued right up until the sun set and on all but my last cast I hooked into what I thought was a big roach until it began surging up and down in the water. My first snit crucian of 2011 was soon in the net at 1.6lb.

I really enjoyed just fishing for whatever came along and not targeting anything specific on this occasion and have found a renewed joy for the singing sound that the centre pin's racket makes as a fish powers off on light tackle. All too often I fish using heavy gear to target bigger fish, so much so I have forgotten how much fun it is to use really light gear and classical methods.

Snitterfield beckons

I met with Andy for a second go at Snitterfield reservoir on Sunday morning to find it deserted and flat as mill pond. Slightly overcast skies raised my hope that the better roach might feed confidently given the lack of bright sunshine which I had encountered a few days previously here.

Before getting started there was a small forgotten matter I needed to settle... A month or so ago whilst on a trip with Andy and Dave to the windrush we had all agreed I small wager of a quid for the biggest grayling, which Andy won and which I had forgotten to pay him for. Not being one to welch on a gambling debt a brain wave had struck me the day before and I had prepared said quid for payment in a special way which I suspect may have quite a far reaching effect this year! 

Rather than explain it keep your eye on http://piscatorialpastimes.blogspot.com/ for a full explanation.

Whilst setting up half way down the road bank a second wager was agreed to give me the chance to take back the prize by catching the largest roach.  This would be a wager I was not destined to win.

Again I opted to fish the pole but this time I went for the a little more of a wintry approach for this still chilly lake by way of a few cups full of liquidised bread. The fish were still playing coy and both of us had to work hard for bites, but determination paid off in the end as floats began to dip and fish were soon being swung to hand.

We turned out to be the only anglers there all day. Maybe everyone else knew something we didn't but having the place to ourselves was real treat. It didn't take long for us both to start banging out feeders into deep water to try and search out a few of the bream which were rolling at twenty meters out.

Through the day we forced some roach and persuaded some small bream that our pellet hook baits were safe for consumption, and finally towards the end of the session the roach/bream hybrids made their appearance, fighting like made dogs as always.

In my last blog I wrote of how deep this lake is and this point was reiterated to me by some beautiful little bream I caught, which when they were landed were a pale white/silver colour from lack of light; after a few hours spent in my keep net in the shallows they turned dark brown.

Another thing I suspect about these bream is that they are not as young as there size may indicate. The bream in this lake seem to have a maximum size of about 3-4lb, the average being 1 1/2 - 2lb which is nothing compared to how big they can grow. If I caught one of these fish in the river or another lake my guess would be that it would be two or three years old and it would be in perfect condition, but these fish are definitely older as their fins seem worn, and are definitely not in that skimmer stage any more. Andy and I discussed this as we fished coming to the conclusion that the depth of the lake probably limits the amount of bloodworm the bottom feeding bream get to eat, whereas on a shallower lake there would be a ready supply, hence feeding fish achieving larger weights quicker. Here the slow warming lake combined with a limited amount bottom based food results in these almost stunted bream.

Change of scenery.

Sunday was supposed to be a continuation of mine and Andy's part in the great Midlands monster perch rush, until I got a phone call from him as I sat digesting my tea on Saturday evening... He informed me that news had reached him that our super secret squirrel hole canal stretch was out of action the following day.

With all our kit set up and ready to go for a canal foray the only sensible option was to simply try another stretch of canal. The only one that stuck out as a candidate was an area I fished last autumn which as far as I am concerned fits the bill for big perch, largely thanks to its population of signal crayfish. It turned out to be a total blow out! Keeping mobile whilst fishing four rods over an entire bridge to bridge section we managed nothing apart from a single crayfish which tried to make off with my roach dead bait. Even that had the common sense to let go before reaching my hand where I would more than likely have taken out my frustration on it with a bank stick.

With three dire sessions under my belt I felt the need for a mid week jaunt out and promptly went to work Monday morning and wangled a day off. In my current fish-less state I did not want to narrow down my chance of catching by being species specific, and in all honesty I just need to see that float slide away to reaffirm to myself that fish have not undergone some kind of mass extinction in Warwickshire. With those two things as key criteria I chose to spend a sunny day fishing pole in hand at a venue I adore.

Snitterfield reservoir

 

This small man made reservoir nestled on the sloping orchard lined hills of the Avon valley is a favourite venue of mine though I never spend as much time up there as I feel I should. This deep lake takes ages to warm up as the year progresses and its exposed location can make it a brutal place on the wrong day; but on the other hand it is rammed with fish and on the right day could put a smile on anyones face.

I haven't visited it since summer last year and what happened to it during our Arctic winter was anyones guess, but a week or two of sun had to be having its effect by now. The depth of it even a couple of rod lengths out is shocking, so like most pole fishing the edge was order of the day.

After setting up stall near one of the few overhanging trees on the lake I potted some sensas noire ground bait plus a few pinkies onto one line four metres out, and a deposited a cup of chopped worm under the overhanging branches to have little look for some better perch which I suspect this lake may hold.

I did not have to wait long for the float to dip and my first roach of the day made its way bank ward. It was by no means furious fishing but by constantly feeding small amounts of pinkies the bites began to come regularly if a little slowly. The best roach of the day came not long in at around ten ounces and was mint, as all the roach in this lake seem to be. 

Through the day I intermittently tried the worm line to no avail but after going back to my main swim again the float dipped quickly under and my hopes of a bigger roach seemed to have momentarily been answered until a skimmer bream appeared thrashing on the surface.

How I wished that were a roach!

I managed to keep the roach coming all day and the average size was pretty good at between 4 -8oz so I was in no way disappointed. Though I do rather regret not taking my keepnet, as net full of silver makes a cracking photo every time.

The lake seems to be coming to life, the constant dappling of the surface by small fish intersected by the occasional swirl of a larger carp. Even though the sport was not as hectic as it has the potential to be I think the slow warming of this lake means the water temp is well behind most shallower venues, hence the fish are still feeding in this winter manner. So if I get the chance to return at the weekend I may use a winter approach on a warm spring day to try and locate some bigger roach.

Crafty grassies.

I am currently at a real loss of where to try and get the grass carp point for the challenge from. The only venue I fish that contains them is Snitterfeild reservoir and like any other Leamington members know there is a very small number of these fish in a rather decent size lake. So with this tiny number of grassies in a large lake the chances of putting forty odd pounds of fish on the bank seems almost impossible. The only saving grace is that when the weather hots up they begin to move round on the surface. Conveniently they make a much different bow wave to the king carp varieties which also inhabit this lake, probably due to there longer flatter profile. 

I had been waiting for what seems like weeks for a bit of warm sunny weather to get down to Snit for a crack at them and whilst waiting I had stored up enough dog biscuits to feed battersea dogs home for at least one day.

Sunday the weather looked great but I was in no rush as the morning was cool and misty. By 10am the sun  was out and I was on the bank with three 5 litre buckets of pellets and dog kibbles ready to go. The only draw back was that the work party were at snit clearing the banks. I won't moan about them as they do a vital job for the club of keeping our many banks fishable, of which I am very grateful for and probably should give them a bit of my free time as I become more attached to the club. But sadly the throbbing of the two stroke strimmers engine was doing little for the fishing on Sunday morning and I did not see a single fish on the top till they finished for the day.

Putting my plan into action I set up one rod with a bottom bait and cast it over a bed of pellets. Then began my grand plan to use a zig rig with one of the new zig floats to get my bait within a few feet of the surface and regularly fire mixers over the top to attract the hoards of ducks which would hopefully in turn attract the patrolling carp. Problem was that I could not get my zig rig to work at all. Every time it was cast into the very deep water half way across the lake the rig tangled or never came up. After ten casts and four modifications I had little choice but to give up and go over to a surface controller and run the avian gauntlet.

With all the crappy weather we have had it was a proper task to get any carp at all on the top and feeding. But after three hours of persistence I began to see some good swirls and the occasional lips. But every time a fish came up they would take two out of ten freebies then sink back to the depths. The wind was no help ether as it blew in ever changing directions on and off for the whole session.

With nothing more than a 1lb skimmer who'd taken a shining to my 20mm boilie to show for the four hours of fishing I was getting despondent. Until I noticed three definite grass carp moving far off to my left. After one almighty hoyk of a cast I managed to drop my bait right in front of them. I thought I was in when one immediately came to investigate. Instigate it did, take the bait it did not. This went on for a good hour as I went through every possible floating bait I had at my disposal. The wind was getting up and causing a ripple that prevented me from seeing my controller at distance, so I never saw the bait go, but Soon enough I got the message as the line zipped tight and the rod buckled over. With line ripping of the reel as the fish tore off I was convinced I had finally nailed one. This fish had some real power and at one point I got that feeling I haven't felt in years, the one that makes you think this rod ain't gonna take this. But it did and after a while I got a glimpse of a golden flank in the water. I tried not to curse to loud as a common carp slipped into the net. My disappointment only lasted for a minute before the joy of  landing what I will say it the most powerful pound for pound carp I have ever caught in my life came over me. To say it was mint would be the understatement of the year as it was fin perfect with not a single mark in it's mouth.

 

After this the ducks became rather aware of where my bait was landing and every time it hit the water they quite literally took off and landed to try and get the bait. With time ticking till I had to pick up Jacky the grassies would have to wait till another day.