Cants Mere 'Under The Rods Tips'

This blog is going way back to September of 2018, it's crazy how fast time passes, this was a good period to be fishing Cants because it wasn't overrun with people desperately trying to catch a 30. Chelmsford had done a great job in developing Cants from a water overrun with thousands of small carp and turning into a proper 'big fish' venue. Those that have read my older blogs will know that I've fished Cants a lot in the past and then I pulled off to focus on other waters. Living my life intuitively I knew that when the time was right my gut would tell me when to return. What Was My Motivation? it wasn't the size of the carp now in the water, it was simply the desire to revisit a lake that I loved fishing a few years before. 

All my blogs from this point won't be showing the spots that I fish, nowadays a lot of people want things handed to them on a plate and I genuinely don't see why I should put the time into fishing these waters only to let everyone know exactly what I'm doing. People really need to suss out how to catch carp by their own accord. You'll learn nothing about carp fishing by copying others, actually doing this stops you from moving forward and really only offers a temporary solution. The only advice I would really give is to be different in what you do, don't followed the herd, there's more than one way to catch a fish. 

View From The Back Bay

When fishing Cants in the past I liked to focus on the descending bars that are locate on both points of the island. In my mind these were perfect ambush points and I'd had some good results adopting this approach, but Cant's is also a fantastic margin water because, firstly the margins are deep, and secondly you have so many overhanging trees and bushes, let us remember that carp love the margins, so I'd made up my mind that I was going to basically fish underneath my rod tips super close in. For this approach to work the lake needs to be near empty and you have to be as quiet as possible, with the way carp fishing is nowadays these two elements are almost impossible to come by. However, on the days I chose to fish there weren't many people about especially up the back bay where I planned to go.

My plan was simple, fish mouthfuls of bait under the overhanging bushes either side of my swim, I was going to use my baiting pole to drop the rigs covertly and quietly. This was at a time when baiting poles hadn't become the latest fashion accessory, actually hardly anyone used them, I'd constructed a really long one adding sections using carbon wrap and carbon spray glue. Doing this allowed me to purchase long pieces of carbon tube and modify them so they slotted into each other. At the time I was using it I can safely say that it was probably one of the longest baiting poles being used, I went a little nuts in regards to the length but .. hey "you've got to do what you've got to do" to give yourself an edge. The fact it took about an hour to set up and put away was something that I had to make peace with rather quickly. Also, occasionally you might get a shard of carbon in you hand but that just added to the overall comedy value of the dam thing.

Custom Made Baiting Pole

This Is Only Half Of The Total Length

I was only going to be using a few sections to ship my bait out under the bushes either side of me, due to the depth of the margins you could get away with tucking the rig right under the marginal growth and you were still in a really good depth of water. Unlike my older Cants sessions where I fished a lot of bait spread around the area, this time I was opting for a mouthful in the shape of a solid bag. I knew the carp hugged the margins so there was no real need to load the swim up with bait in the hope to attract them. In my mind, if you could get the bait bag under the bushes any fish that came along wouldn't hesitate to suck it up. I used a large PVA bag which I filled with crushed Boilies and pellets of varying sizes, I stuck with fruity flavours, I'm still using Starmer Baits, I wouldn't change from their bait even if a gun was held to my head, before shipping the bags out I'd inject them with some liquid feed.

Once both bags were placed I wasn't going to move them, I genuinely felt confident that "if" the fish drop down to feed then I've given myself the best chance at getting a bite. That's all you can do, carp fishing to me is setting up a scenario where 'if the fish are feeding' you're giving yourself the highest chance of success. This approach doesn't involve loads of complicated rigs and ultra scientific baits, it's all about putting your bait in the right place. Once all the 'rigmarole' was out the way of setting all my gear up and making sure my rods and reel handles were perfectly symmetrical, I sat back watching the water carefully.

It really didn't take long for a bite to occur, the rigs had been in position for little over an hour before I got a thunderous take that ripped the rod tip sharp to the left. Leaning into this fish I knew straight away that it was big, the sheer power of the pulls and lunges were scary, due to the marginal obstructions I kept the rod tip low in the water and basically held on for dear life until the fish tired enough to get a net under it. This fish was a beauty weighing in at a touch over 28 pound, it was built like a torpedo, it was a lovely dark brown, every part of it was immaculate. 

This was the only bite that occurred on this session but I planned to head back the following day to adopt exactly the same approach. This trip was eventful in more ways than one and it had to be seen to be believed. I'd arrived slightly later in the day for my second trip, everything was exactly the same as the previous day. Solid bags were tied and carefully placed under the marginal growth with my baiting pole, the day passed with no action. As the sun started to lower it was 'game on', everything felt right and I knew a bite was imminent, I sat perched up the bank when all of a sudden my alarms gave an unorthodox set of blips. My left rod pulled right round to the left, my pod fell downwards to the left and the rod flew into the water. 

This all happened within a second, I had no time to think so I slide down the bank and dived headfirst into the lake, the rod had disappeared so I lunged my arm in the vague direction that it went off sailing. As I stretched full reach and lowered my arm through the water my little pinky finger managed to connect around the line between the spool and the first guide on the butt section of my rod. As I picked the rod up with both hands and lifted the fish was still on, I was now standing in the water fully clothed up to my stomach. The carp on the end of my line was going nuts but after an intense fight I managed to slip another dark Cants common under the net cords, scales fell to 29IB.

This fish was totally worth a drowned phone and a set of warped bank cards that got flooded in my wallet, because it was a lovely warm evening I dried off quickly. No other bites came that day which doesn't surprise me because me jumping in headfirst probably spooked half the lake. I drove home that evening smelling of both Cants and the carp that lived there. Because my approach appeared to be working I decided to head back up a few days after I "took my dive". It was all very regimented by this point. I quietly made my way to the swim, kept low to the water, tied my bags, extracted my pole and silently slid both my rigs either side of the swim under the marginal growth. 

Just like the previous sessions nothing happened during the main part of the day, the bite came just as the sun had gone down, the light was fading. My left rod tore off at a crazy pace, a huge vortex of silt and leaves erupted from where my rig had been covertly placed. This carp felt like a beast, it was pulling hard towards the bushes but I kept the pressure on, this caused it to dart into the small bay to the left of me. The vortex's were huge and the bottom was being kicked up every time in lunged on another powerful run. Slowly and surely I was gaining ground and as it got closer to me it was clear that this was a big carp. As the net slid under this fish a huge amount of relief washed over me.

This fish was big and the scales sunk to 33IB exactly ... what a fight and what a fish, the last two carp I had out of Cants sort of made me feel like I was building up to one on the 30's so the whole scenario felt strangely poetic. This would be the last time that I fished Cants because I would end up dropping my Chelmsford membership. I was getting tired of the journeys up and down and I wanted to find a few more waters closer to home. Not only that but all the venues were really starting to get busy and when this starts to happen I naturally pull off looking for places that offer solitude.

Cants Mere 'Goodbye For Now'

A month or so had past since my last successful session up on Cants, I'd managed to squeeze in another 4 trips, unfortunately each ended up in a blank. Now with the warmer weather taking hold conditions were changing and more anglers where appearing on the water. I sensed that the word was starting to get out regarding the fish the mere now contained. As usual, when the crowds start to come I find myself wanting to vacate to another venue that isn't seeing so much pressure. Nowadays due to the current popularity of carp fishing I'm finding it harder to track down waters that aren't overcrowded and over-fished, even harder still is finding a venue where the fish aren't beaten up with mouth damage. I'm seriously starting to consider trying to find a nice quiet syndicate, a place where I don't continually feel like I'm trying to escape the ever growing carp angling circus. I'm wondering if a place like that even exists anymore and if they do they usually have huge waiting lists. My early sessions seemed like distant memories, there I was on my own surrounded by 'still life' with only the mallards as company. Now I was finding myself hemmed in-between other anglers lines and dodging spods, I really felt like this was hindering my chances so I decided I'd give the water one last shot and then evacuate quietly.

Me & Eric Waiting For A Bite That Never Came

On the day of my session I was in no rush to get to the water, previous bites had a habit of coming later in the day so I decided to have a well deserved lie in, get some breakfast down me, brew a few cups of dangerously strong coffee, peruse over my tackle and then ease myself into the journey up to the water. As I opened my front door to the world, I instantly felt invigorated as the sun and clear blue sky hung overhead. I didn't want to speak too soon but I felt pretty happy to be existing, I love fishing on days like this. Leaving London and heading off up into the Essex countryside is a necessary escape, I never tire at the thought of casting my lines. I did have a passing thought that Cants might be busy, I was just going to take it easy, get to the water and work with what I had available to me. After a relatively pain free journey, I stopped off at Boreham services to grab a few essentials and onward to the water, I arrived at around 12:30am. There were a few cars in the car park but it appeared most were fishing Blunts.

Before unloading I decided to go and have a quiet walk around both Blunts and Cants, the weather was so warm and the day so bright, it was impossible to feel any sense of urgency. Blunts was fairly busy but it looked lovely, there was a light ripple on the water with some very inviting looking scum lines molding themselves around the margins. On closer inspection I spotted a few dark shadows cruising just under the surface. The carp appeared to be in small groups causally milling around, I sensed they were aware of my presence but they didn't seem to care. Walking up along the path and around to the back channel, I counted at least 15 fish cruising in the upper layers, some appeared to be mouthing at the tiny objects that were resting on the waters skin. It was a pleasure to watch and, strangely enough, I had no desire to try and catch these fish. Watching carp is just as enjoyable as trying to catch them. After observing Blunts I made my way down to Cants, all the angling pressure seemed to be up the far end. Looking at where other anglers lines were stretching, it seemed most the water was sewn up, not only that but it looked completely dead, there were no signs of carp anywhere.

Secrets Revealed

I headed back up towards the car park keeping a close eye on things as I went. It became apparent very quickly that the bulk of the carp were down the front end. Loads of fish were quietly cruising around, I had no doubt they were avoiding the lines, I fully believe that carp know exactly what an anglers presence sounds like. They were clearly avoiding the activity opting for the quieter end of the water. Most were congregating in the open in front of swim 8, I decided that this is where I was going to fish. I'd had most of my bites from this swim so it made perfect sense to give it another go. Loading the barrow up I quickly realized that my auxiliary bag of dog biscuits that I usually keep in the back of my van wasn't there. Not only that but I had no surface tackle whatsoever, this was a real bummer. It looked like I was going to have to wait for the fish to go down - 'note to self, always bring surface baits and tackle'. This was so frustrating but in the same breath I needn't rush in getting my swim set up.

Pineapple CSL & Pellet

 

All of my previous sessions involved a lot of bait, today I wasn't going to adopt the same approach. I was working on the basis that a lot more bait was now going in the water so the fish might not be so inclined to hoover up a load of boilie. Tiger-Fish had been my bait of choice and I'd done well on it but I decided I was going to revert back to Pineapple CSL. This was the bait that produced the big hit of fish I had on my first ever session, today I was going to keep the baiting to a minimum, I wasn't going to be putting any boilie out as loose feed, I would be fishing single pop ups and feed a single small spomb of pellet and ground-bait over the top. There was no point in setting the swim up for a big hit, it was nearing 1:30pm so I didn't have a great deal of time, not only that, the vast majority of the lakes stock were clearly up in the surface layers. Those that have read my past session blogs will know that, from this swim, I've had all my fish from the bars that run down both sides of the island. Today I was going to try a different spot, I see no sense in coming to a water to fish the same swim in the same way all the time. To expand your understanding you have to be prepared to try new things.  

Minimal Bait

I've always been interested in the island but I've never bothered fishing it, I just feel it's too obvious, however, fishing towards the bottom of the slope that runs down from the island could be an idea that's easily overlooked. I attached a 3.5oz lead to my marker rod and clipped up as close to the island as I could get. I was literally kissing the branches on the cast. I got a nice clean "DONK" close in and as I proceeded to carefully drag the lead towards me I could feel I was pulling over hard gravel. As it started to 'scoot' down the slope I could feel that I was on silty/clay, it slid so smoothly producing a defined line of tiny little bubbles that released and broke the surface. As I hit, what I believed to be the bottom of the slope, the rod started to lockup, I had a hunch that there could be slightly larger rocks and stones sitting directly at the bottom of the drop off. This made sense to me, through the years I'm sure various rocks and larger 'projectiles' had slowly made their way down the shelf. I retrieved the lead and made a second cast to confirm what I'd initially felt, I clipped up as soon as the rod started to lock up - that's the spot.

View From The Swim

I felt happy with my chosen area so I got to work on setting my rods up. I came prepared having pre-tied a few pop up rigs using tigga-link, these would be fished 'semi-fixed' on 3.5oz leads. I was going to keep both hook baits relatively close together, looking at how all the carp on the surface were swimming around in small groups, I saw no reason why they wouldn't do the same when/if they make their way down to feed. I had a feeling that fishing both baits a short distance apart could produce two quick takes. Both rods went out perfectly, as usual I felt a minor feeling of "euphoria" as the clips were hit on each cast. Because I was using rods that were soft in the tip the casts were cushioned perfectly, I never get any 'bounce back', they absorb everything. Once the bobbins were set I clipped the spomb up, my mix consisted of 5mm multi-mix pellets, halibut marine ground bait and a touch of halibut oil to bind it all together. The spomb was loaded, and with a subtle little flick of my spod rod it flew gracefully through the air, delivering my 'tempting mouthful' accurately over both rods. All I could do now was wait for the fish to disappear from the upper layers and make their way down to the depths, at the moment it didn't look like that was going to happen in a hurry.

Trigga-Link Pop Up Rig

 

There was no guarantee that the fish in front of me would be up for taking a surface bait, but that didn't pacify the frustration of not being able to fish for them, I was annoyed at myself for not coming prepared. I took a seat, the sun was beating down on my back, I was in a strange sort of hypnosis observing the carps activities. I tried to spot a pattern in their movements but they just appeared random, all I could do was watch helplessly whilst these long dark shadows basked in the bright afternoon sun literally meters away from me. The kettle came out and the coffee was concocted, the caffeine hit the spot. The afternoon started to pass me by, come 3:30pm the atmosphere started to change, sporadic cloud came in over head periodically masking the suns rays. A cool weather front clearly started to move in, I literally felt the air pass through me. A change was afoot and with it came a sudden chop on the water, looking far into the distance the clouds looked dubious. I set my brolly up, I had a feeling rain was on the way and it looked like it was going to be violent.

And The Rain Came

Within the space of 15 minutes the cloud had covered the sky and the rain started to fall like lead bullets. I couldn't quite believe it was happening, the day had literally turned into the complete opposite of what it started off as in the morning. The wind really picked up, I sat tucked under my 'fibre-shield' hanging on for dear life. Looking out over the surface of the water it became clear very quickly that the carp were dispersing, this break in the weather might just end up being the event that pushes the fish back down to the bottom. As quickly as the rain came it had gone, the air felt fresh, the world appeared silent, all I could hear was the million and one raindrops falling off all the trees and branches around me. Looking out over the water, the surface was deserted, I couldn't spot any carp anywhere. The 'wait' had now officially begun, I genuinely felt like anything could happen from this point onward. 

The afternoon came and went in no time, it remained cool and overcast, with the sun now lower in the sky it felt like bite time was fast approaching. I was watching the water like a hawk, my right rod gave off a few minor bleeps before roaring off at speed. All the the bites from Cants explode from out of nowhere, I picked the rod up and gently lent back, the rod arched around and the clutch started to 'whirl'. Adrenaline was firing through my veins at an alarming rate, the fish was moving at a serious pace, I held on tight letting it tire itself out. It clearly wasn't going to give up easily, very slowly it began to lose its steam, I tightened the clutch up slightly and let the rod do the rest of the work. It was slowly coming towards me, when it was under the rod tip it lunged tight to my left making a desperate attempt to lose me in the snags. Side strain saw it clear and as it came up, signalling defeat, I slipped a lovely dark bronze colored common over the net. It was one of the slightly smaller residence but you wouldn't of thought that from the fight.

The Fighter

This was a lovely carp that had a subtle bronze tinge on its belly and a nice dark back, a few shots were taken and I gently lowered her home. I checked the hook, it was still nice and sharp, I then proceeded to carefully thread another Pineapple CSL pop up on to the hair, remolded and readjusted the tungsten putty and went to clip back up. This process was abruptly interrupted by my other rod firing away, it caught me by surprise, it appeared my "quick two bite" theory wasn't so crazy after all. The tip of the rod was bent right round and the clutch was melting, I knew that this was a better fish than the one I'd just returned home. I rushed to the rod, lent back and .... "BOOM" ..... the connection I'd made was instant, the sheer power had to be felt to be believed. With my 'players rod' bent double I held tight, vision of hanging on a cable behind a speedboat shot into my mind. 

This fish powered fast to the left and just carried on going, it was heading towards the sunken branches right down in the left hand corner. I started to feel minor panic, I held the rod out over the water as far as I could stretch and sunk it down low. I wanted to keep the line well out the way of any 'rogue' branches, I cupped the spool to try to slow the fishes momentum down. It was working, I decided to apply as much resistance as I thought I could get away with. It was a tense moment, I literally held my breath and steadily increased the pressure, the rod was still bent double. The fish started inching towards me .. result! .. I managed to turn it in my direction. All I had to do now was keep the pressure on and guide her towards the net, I lowered the mesh into the water, the carp was close, inching towards me. Now under the tip it surfaced onto its side ... game over, the mesh engulfed a beautiful looking common. I left it resting in the net to recover, I also needed to recover - what a fish!

A Quick Bite 'Number Two'

As expected, this fish blew me away, it was perfect looking, its scales were the colors of chestnut and it had some serious length to it. Once again Cants had delivered another two awesome fish for me, it started off looking like it wasn't going to work out but with the sudden change in the conditions it slowly all fell into place. It felt great to have a few after my recent blanks, having said that, I don't mind blanking, if I caught all the time I'd get bored. When sessions don't work out it just makes me more determined to get a result, not only that but it can force you to think about your approach. Take today for instance, fishing at the bottom of the slope of the island produced the goods, I might not of tried that if I'd caught on every session. I didn't see the point in casting back out, time was getting on and I had to be up early the next morning. I was going to bid farewell to Cants for the time being, I'd had some nice fish, little did I know it would be two years before I returned. 

Eric Enjoyed His Day Out

      

Cants Mere 'Finding Your Frequency'

There is no death of matter, for throughout the infinite universe, all has to move, to vibrate, that is, to live.

~ Nikola Tesla

A few days ago I decided to pay a visit to a water that I hadn't fished for quite sometime. The temperatures were way up in the low 30's, I knew it was going to be a slow day. However, I managed to get an early bite which resulted in a lovely mirror just shy of 18IB. Nothing else came along but I can honestly say that it was one of the most enjoyable and profound days I'd spent out on the water for quite some time. Looking back through the years and the hundreds, if not thousands of sessions I've been on. There's always a handful that seem to be far more memorable than others, strangely, these aren't always the ones where I catch a fish. I've spoken before about being "in sync"  or "aligning" yourself  with the waters, this isn't something you can't teach someone or really even explain, periodically it just happens. I personally think it has a lot to do with how you translate the world around you. Simply put, it's those moments in time when every single aspect, both inside and outside of your environment, appears completely perfect. I'm not strictly talking about just fishing, it can be at any time and in any location. Being one to regularly tie myself in the knots of my thoughts, I wanted to try to suss out why and when these moments of perfect harmony happen. I believe it has a lot to do with vibration, frequency and resonance, that might sound rather ridiculous but I'll try to explain it the best I can. 

Constant Motion

Every single solitary thing in existence is vibrating at varying levels, and as still as everything may seem, nothing is truly resting. This also includes us as humans, I believe that, just like our DNA which is unique to us, we also have a unique frequency that we operate at. Depending on both your health and some external factors, these frequencies can fluctuate from time to time. When this happens I think that we're much more susceptible to illness, both mental and physical, we all have moments where we just don't feel in tune with ourselves. Lets take a look at color, each individual color vibrates differently to the next. Red has the lowest frequency whilst violet has the highest, why do we all have favorite colors?. Is this because our own personal resonance is very similar to that of the color we are attracted to?. Why do we get on well with certain people, and not so well with others?. Maybe the people we connect to straight away have a very similar vibratory rate to our own. The people we tend to dislike or clash with might be existing at a resonance that may well clash with our own, thus creating a 'discord' in the way we relate to each other. 

 

Sonically discords can be beautiful things, a discord in the right place can make a song sound fantastic. It can change the whole feel of a tune especially when it's followed by more straightforward 'standard' chord changes. However discords you can't necessarily see, in a spiritual sense, can be very damaging, maybe the origins of mental illness and other 'invisible' ailments are simply a discord/dis-ease within our own unique 'vibratory' rate or system. A perfect example of a discord or 'frequency clash' that we can all witness is the opera singer with a glass. Trained opera singers can sing a note so high with so much power that the frequency they reach clashes with that of the glass resulting in it to crack. That's a perfect example of how damaging certain vibrations that are not compatible with one another can be. However, taking the term 'opposites attract' into account, every so often two people or frequencies with opposing resonance can connect in some strange disjointed way resulting in the perfect fit. I can equate this to a standard chord progression in a song where you overdub and mix the corresponding discords in. In theory this shouldn't really work but 'sonically' it sounds and feels great.

When you look at music and musical instruments as a whole, it's all built up on resonance, vibrations and frequency. Music is, and will always be a universal language, it connects people all over the world. It bypasses language, reaches around the globe a million and one times - why is this?. Because it makes people feel something deep inside, something that they can't explain. This makes me realize that there are moments in life where it's far more important how something makes you feel as oppose to what it makes you think. Next time you listen to a certain song that makes your hairs stand up, focus on that feeling, there's a reason why that's happening, it's all got to do with a connection being made that doesn't need to be understood. One example I'd like to use is the song 'Comfortably Numb' by Pink Floyd, here's a tune that has connected, and continues to connect with millions of people everywhere. Not only that but it spans across generations and will continue to do so, now in 2018 it's still one of the most played songs on both the radio and streaming services. When it was written, you can almost guarantee that the band would've had absolutely no idea just how far that song was going to fly. They hit on something at a random moment in time where the stars aligned and something magic happened. Music is simply a variety of vibrations and frequencies that we can actively hear and feel, it must work the other way around, there must be frequencies and vibrations that have an equal effect that we can't actively hear or feel.

So what has all of this got to do with carp fishing? When I'm on the bank, profound things can happen, not only is there the constant possibility of landing a potential monster, you've got the dawn, the sunset and many possible 'poignant' moments that come in so many different forms. But for me, the most important thing of all is the connection, the 'aligning' of oneself to the environment and really feeling it. I believe this happens when your own personal resonance connects perfectly with the world around you. As mentioned earlier, this doesn't happen all the time, it's on the odd occasion and I put this down to the fact that, on the occasions when the frequencies in all the living things fluctuate and become closer to yours, you connect to them in a way you've never felt before. Your connection to the environment around you isn't something you achieve by thinking about it, just like music, it's something that you feel first and then from that feeling your thoughts will follow. Next time you're out on the bank and you hit a peak moment of complete peace and 'oneness' hold onto that moment, something profound is happening. 

So moving onto the session, this blog is going to account for another short trip up to Cant's mere. Due to work I was having to make the most of the time I had available, taking into consideration that on my last two visits, all bites had a habit of coming later on in the day. I didn't feel I was missing out on a great deal not turning up at the crack of dawn. After a quick job in the morning that saw me wrestling my way through the city streets of London. It was around 11:45am when I attempted to make my escape, as expected, it felt like whole world was doing it's best to stop me reaching the water. There was grid lock, road closures, road works, pretty much every obstacle imaginable. I sat tight, gritted my teeth and painfully limped towards the outer reaches of the city. Eventually the signs for the M25 came into view, I was getting closer, it was just a matter of propelling myself onward and up onto the A12. Once on the motorway the knot in stomach started to loosen, the concrete surroundings started to exchange themselves for lush green fields and meadows. I was starting to feel somewhat human again, just.

From The Capital To Countryside

For people out there that don't understand the slightly 'unhinged' mind of a carp angler, this may come across as an awful lot of effort to go through just to catch as fish. They may well be right but I don't have any waters local to me and I'll travel anywhere if I know the conditions are right and there's a chance of a bite.  Today the weather was fresh, nicely overcast with the occasional spot of drizzle, it screamed 'carp' so I had to go and get my fix, whatever obstacles stood in my way, denying myself the chance to cast a line just wasn't an option. By the time I arrived at the water it was early afternoon, I planned to fish until 7pm. I got all my tackle together quickly and made my way around to peg 8. I walked a lap of the lake just to see if I could see any obvious signs of fish. It all appeared quiet, due to the time constraint I decided I'd fish peg 8 again and approach it in the exact same way I had over the previous sessions, at this point "if it ain't broke, then there's no point in trying to fix it".

A few casts with a bare lead on braided line saw me locate both the bars that run from both points of the island. The right hand spot was still nice and clear, the left spot locked up slightly on the retrieve, that told me the weed was still there. If anything it actually felt like it had thickened up a little more since my last visit. I didn't want to fish a pop up so instead of messing around trying to find a slightly clearer patch I though I'd make own. I got my trusty 5oz Fox 'Grappling' lead out and gave it a few casts thinning out a nice little area to place my bait. The lead brought back some hefty clumps of weed, it was fresh and smelt good, no wonder I was getting a lot of bites from that specific spot. I had a very strong feeling, that if I was going to get a bite today it would be from the rig fished within the weed. 

Fox Grappling Lead 5oz

Bait wise, I was sticking with the Tiger-Fish, this has been producing the 'goods' for me lately so it was a 'no-brainer', to add something a little different. Both baits would be topped off with a single white 6mm 'Coconut Cream' pop up. This would add a nice little fleck visually, I like the idea of topping off slightly darker baits with a little bit of color. My rigs we're going to be the usual semi-fixed inlines, this session I'd upped the lead to 3.5oz. Both hook links were combi rigs using the 'Trigga-Link' in 30IB and Sufix 'Magician' in 25IB. These two specific materials blend really well together, I'm finding myself using more of the Sufix range since it all went a bit strange with Kryston. Once my old Kryston stock has been used I think I'll be using Sufix exclusively. I've been more than impressed with what they've got on offer, I'll be writing about some of the other materials they produce in future blogs. As most know, none of my rigs and presentations are complicated, however I find myself getting rather anal in regards to the end tackle that I'm prepared to use.

6mm Pop Ups

I don't want to be using something that isn't tried and tested, I'm not sure if the 'newly packaged' Kryston range is the same as the original. The original range was outstanding and it didn't need changing, it had years of reliability behind it. To be honest I'm becoming more and more disillusioned with what's coming out on the market for carp anglers, prices seem to be going up and quality is definitely going down. We're pummeled with 'gimmicks', 'fashions' and 'buzz items' that don't usually stand up to the job they're supposedly designed for, in my mind a lot of it is just cheaply made shit. That's why I've been finding myself looking at some of the 'lesser known' brands, it's these guys that have something to prove. Unlike the mainstream brands that appear to be resting on their laurels.

The Perfect Combination

  Separation

Both rods were clipped up and ready to deploy, I flicked the left one out first, the rig sailed through the air, kissed the clip and disappeared into the void. I waited, a few seconds later I received the 'DONK' I was looking for. The same procedure was repeated with the right rod, the rig sailed, kissed the clip, disappeared and delivered another perfect 'DONK'. Back leads were slid down both lines, I tightened up, hung the bobbins and proceeded to position myself for the inevitable wait. On all my previous sessions I'd got a little 'trigga-happy' with the throwing stick. Today I was going to adopt some constraint and opted for two heaped handfuls over each rod, I didn't have a great deal of time so I wanted just enough bait out there to pull them in. To be honest when Cants starts to receive a lot of angling pressure, which due to the fish it contains, is inevitable, I can see myself cutting right down on the amount of bait that I use. This has already started to happen on a few of my other waters. So much goes in all the time and I think it's starting to have a reverse effect, I personally think it makes the fishing a lot harder than it needs to be. When the carp have so much bait to chose from and get through, it's logic that the fishing will slow right down. I'm finding that a mouthful in the right location is proving far more productive nowadays, than shoveling it in.

View From The Swim

The afternoon crept along, the skies above were changing fast from gloomy heavy clouds with drizzle, separated by the occasional sunbeam piercing down on the surface of the water. It was one of those days where everything felt fresh and clean, it's hard to believe that only a few hours ago I was clawing my way through the rather unforgiving streets of London, this was literally a world away and it's a world that I feel very thankful for. It's impossible to feel grounded living in the city, everything around you creates friction, there's endless souls clashing into one another. Every where you turn people are racing around within an inch of their life chasing after 'the wage', 'the promotion', that one leg up that might just get them out the rut of it all, many though are working all the hours under the sun and still don't have another money to forge some kind of meaningful existence. When I witness this going on around me, very little of it makes sense and I find myself questioning exactly why we are put here. I'm positive it certainly isn't to work yourself into an early grave. Just as I started to sink into an abyss of contemplation, my right rod was away. 

The bite alarm was screaming, the clutch, equally as loud, the rod was bending round so tight, I could literally hear it moaning, all the bites from Cants go the same way, from nothing to chaos in three seconds flat. As I lifted the rod up I had no other choice than to just let the fish take line. It whizzed off to the left kiting tight towards the nearside margin, it was gunning for all the marginal snags. I sunk the rod to keep the line low and started to apply as much pressure as I thought I could get away with. I was slowly gaining a bit of ground but it wasn't really having any of it. Bolting out to the open water, it was darting all over the place, every time I thought I was starting to win, it would tear off, striping line as it went. Closer it came, I lowered the net into 'scooping' position and teased the carp towards me. This was a bad move, the second it spotted it, it fired off back out into the open. I was starting to get a little impatience but, from experience, the worst thing you can do is try to rush the situation. I held on, applied some more steady pressure and eventually eased a bloody lovely looking mirror over my net.

My First Cants Mirror

I was totally blown away with this fish, its lovely chocolate color complimented its majestic scale pattern perfectly, not only that, it put up one hell of a fight, one of the hardest I'd experienced from any previous Cants fish. A few pictures were taken, a 'thank you' was exchanged, and back she went. It was a really good call to clear a bit of the weed away to create a clearer spot to put my rig. I clipped up and pinged the bait back out, followed by another couple of handfuls of freebies. An hour or so past and with that came multiple shows very close to both my rods. It was clear that a few fish had made their way down, I sat quietly watching, poised on the edge of my seat. These situations can be both magical and tense all at the same time, you can't make those fish take your bait. You can only hope you've done enough right to help produce the desired end result. As the minutes continued to tick by the fish action increased, the wind picked up and the skies started to darken. Two things were going to happen, I was going to get another bite and leave victorious, or this magic moment would pass and I was going to get a drenching of a life time. Peering behind me, the clouds creeping ever closer in the distance were looking rather threatening.

Possible Armageddon

As I was sitting there visualizing the possibility of a Tsunami washing me down the proverbial drain, my left rod fired away .. result!. I was on it like lightening and another immense battle commenced, this fish pretty much mimicked the one that came before. The initial take was nuts, you couldn't really do anything, then it shot tight down to the left towards the snags. Just like before, I lowered the rod down into the water and applied side strain, holding my breath as I went. This fish was so close to getting under the branches, if I allowed that to happen I may as well kiss it goodbye. It was so tense, I felt a bit of grating on my line, I prayed that everything would stay intact. Gently it was coming closer, now out of the danger zone I lowered the net down and as the fish surfaced just out in front of me, I performed the penultimate 'scoop', in she went. The relief I felt was marginally indescribable, with the heavy weather moving ever closer I peaked down into the net to lay my eyes on the prize. It was an immaculate common carp, a fair sized one at that.

Minutes Before The Downpour

This carp was long, lean and as clean as you could get, a few pictures were taken and she was gently slipped back home. It was now my turn to slip back home, I had a sense that if I wasn't quick I'd be sailing. I got all my gear together and packed away in a very undignified fashion. I was half way between the lake and the van when the sky fractured and the heavens started dumping all its unwanted sins on my head. I slipped and slid back to the car park, threw everything in the back of the wagon and leapt into the driving seat. The rain drops were like bullets on the windscreen, I got another good soaking opening and closing the gate. The drive back to London was pretty treacherous, I had the fan going full blast to keep my windscreen clear, I was literally surfing along the surface of the A12. It had been a busy day, there I was in the teeth of the city, I escaped deep into the country, caught two pristine pieces of the wild and I'd literally sailed home. If anyone ever tells you that fishing is boring ....... don't listen to them.

Cants Mere 'The Perfect Sky'

So here we are in the middle of a heatwave, the world outside my window is burning up in more ways than one. There's discontent, a distinctive sense of unease as the perpetual propaganda machine insists on keeping the population fighting amongst itself. London town feels more like a concrete desert rather than a buzzing metropolitan city. It's during these periods where I usually grab my rods and get the hell out of town, but with the severe heat continually pounding down on the waters. I'm finding the carp are literally fixed in a docile trance - 'which in turn puts me in one as well'. I need adrenaline in my life, something to get the blood flowing and the heart pounding. Angling provides all these things for me and without it I really don't feel right at all. However, part of angling is to understand when you're using your time wisely and when you aren't. I've said it before, but you've got to go when you know the fish are up for it - whatever the weather. Summer can be a very misleading part of the season, it might be nice out on the banks, you can get a nice tan and sunbathe, but the long and short of it is, it really isn't the best conditions, especially when carp are involved.

On the whole, it has been really tough, I've managed to pick a few off but, for the most it, I feel I've been 'flogging a dead horse'. This can have a few downsides, from an angling point of view, you can burn yourself out easily when it's clear that it just isn't happening. Secondly, and on a more personal level, with no means of escape, I'm subjected to the painfully ordinary 'everyday' that I've spent my life trying so hard to avoid. The days just seem to drift on by, I work and try to write but if you're not stimulated then there's nothing to really write about, all in all it's a very frustrating time. So to ease my slightly 'shackled' feelings I'd like to take you back to a 'short' afternoon session that I did up on Cants mere. This blog harks back to the start of summer in 2016, it's hard to believe that so much time has passed me by but when you're in a perpetual state of 'pursuit', time just doesn't come into it, you're forever focused on the next water, the next cast and the next potential piece of the wild being eased over the landing net cords. Factor in the constant search for words, both poetically and for the blogs, you really don't have much mental space for anything else.

Escape The Monotony

My past sessions on Cants had been successful and I knew there were some more good fish to be had, word still hadn't really got out about the size of the carp that now resided there. I was sticking to my original plan, I'd focus on the water hard and when the crowds started to arrive I'd simply ghost off and start fishing somewhere else. Over the last year or so I've started to choose my waters carefully. When the banks are heaving and everyone is chasing the same prize, it sucks every ounce of enjoyment out of it for me. Hence why I don't just jump on the day ticket circuit, the idea of turning up to Linear or Farlows and hemming myself in between hundreds of other lines is my idea of hell. I value isolation and peace far more than the chance of a 30/40IB fish. There's part of me that feels if I did fish these types of places I may well have a few bigger carp underneath my belt, but I've got to stay true to myself. Part of my own fishing is the continuous search for the perfect space. That destination between the 'here and now', that feels like the perfect home, it's a location you can't really describe in words, but you know in your heart when you've found it.

The Perfect Sky

On the day of the session I was pretty eager to get going, for two main reasons. Firstly the conditions felt spot on, it was really overcast with rain showers and a lovely strong wind. As I stepped foot outside, hung right above my head, was the perfect sky. I've fished under this type of sky before and I've always had a good result. Secondly, after the best part of 25 years of searching, I'd finally managed to get hold of a mint set of the original Tony Fordham, Sportex Kevlar carp rods. I'd always dreamt of having a set of these from the moment I'd laid my eyes on them, harking way back to the days of Crowborough tackle. I managed to pick up a set of three for an amazing price, they've got a super thick blank, they're as light as hell and they have the classic purple whipping that was the first thing that caught my eye. I think it's safe to say that another part of my angling life is very much complete owning a set of these rods. I was itching to use them and I thought that Cants would be the perfect place to give them a good go. If they could withstand the crazy thrusts from some of those long commons then they could survive anything. The tackle was packed and I was soon 'zig zagging' up the A12, the rain was beating down the windscreen and, every so often, a gust of wind would catch the van, it was pretty treacherous but when the water is calling you, you've got to listen.

The Dream

As expected, when I arrived at the venue the car park was empty, the rain had eased and the wind had dropped, this gave me enough time to do a quick lap of the water and get myself setup. Looking at the clouds gathering in the distance it was clear that I was going to be getting a right old soaking today. But I knew the fish were going to be feeding so I was prepared to 'take it on the chin'. After a quick scout about it was clear to me that there were some fish tucked up in the back bay. I could see at least five separate patches of fizzing, it was a 'no brainer'. I picked the swim directly opposite, this gave me a lot of options. Because carp were clearly in the vicinity, I'd give myself one cast with each rod. They'd be no clipping up or faffing about, both rigs would go straight out followed by a couple of handfuls of bait, this would be spread around the whole of the bay area. I wasn't going to feed directly over the top of each rod. The fish were there so I wanted to get them rooting about, if I was going to start piling it in I could kill the situation before I'd even started. I was going to take on the role of an 'angling sniper', get everything in position as 'covertly' as possible without alerting the carp to my presence.

View From The Swim

Bait-wise I'd opted for the 'sweet plum seed', it's super effective and one that I want to start using more. Because I wasn't familiar with this specific section of the lake I was going to ditch the bottom baits and fish low-lying pop ups. Judging by the amount of trees surrounding the bay, I suspected there was fair amount of junk on the deck. Rig-wise, as usual it was straightforward, I'd be fishing 1.5oz inline leads with a relatively short hook-link. This might sound a little odd for fishing over possible debris, but I didn't want to give the carp an inch. There have been at least two separate occasions in the past where I've witness carp ditch a pop up on a long hook-link. I wanted everything short, compact and discreet. I fish this rig on various hook-link materials, my favorite being a 'Trigga-Link' combi. Today I'd opted for the 'Rig-Morale' hydro link in 25IB, I'd cut the fluorocarbon inner core out, just short of the hook eye, this created a lovely hinge effect. Add a PVA nugget on the cast and that should ensure it lands well and sits primed ready for a carp to come along.

A Simple Pop Up Presentation

So with both rods ready I now had to gauge the correct amount of 'oomph' to put into each cast. I hadn't really helped myself opting to use a set rods I'd never fished with before, I was going to go on instinct here. Picking up the first rod and preparing for the penultimate casts, it felt slightly odd, the old Sportex blank is much thicker than any rod I've used before, and it's incredibly light. Raising the rod above my head, I really felt like I had 'history in my hands'. A short sharp jolt saw the lead fly seamlessly through the air, as the rig cut through the waters skin, I waited for a 'DONK', I didn't get one. The impact of the lead hitting the bottom kicked up a small explosion of bubbles, I was definitely in the silt. The second rod went out as poetically as the first, I was now fishing. I catapulted roughly two handfuls of bait all around the bay, I wanted the fish to start actively seeking out each individual boilie. If they started to get into a rhythm, I had no doubt that one would trip up on my hook bait.

As the heavy clouds started to move in overhead I just managed to get the brolly up before the heavens fractured. It happened within seconds, the sheer power and velocity of the rain was unbelievable. If I was on a ship it would of sunk, never to be seem again. I perched underneath my fibreshield clinging onto the storm poles. It's seen me through many storms before, the gusts of wind where rocking it backwards and forwards. For a second I though that 'Armageddon' might've finally arrived, coming to take back a planet that's rightly his. In all fairness I wouldn't blame it if it did, when I look at the sheer misery and destruction that the human race has inflicted on the earth, it makes perfect sense to me that 'the powers that be' would want to take back what is inherently theirs. Whilst the chaos continued I held on for dear life and tried to focus my mind elsewhere. Through the madness that was unfolding I could see clear feeding bubbles coming up all around the bay, the fish were clearly feeding heavily.

Armageddon

As I sat still clinging on as if my life depended on it, the water started to flood in underneath my brolly, within a few minutes there was a small stream running under my feet. It was all strangely exhilarating, all the colors of the trees were so vivid and the air was clear and fresh. The concrete desert of London seemed a million miles away and I couldn't help but think how lucky I was to be able to escape it every so often. Eventually everything started to ease, the rain, that minutes ago resembled bullets, was dispersing, the clouds that resembled my perfect sky started to clear, and before I knew it. The sun was shining and it felt like a completely different day, it's as if the world had cleansed itself of all the wrong doings. As I crawled out from underneath my shelter, I soaked up the atmosphere, paying close attention to the million and one rain drops dripping and 'plopping' off the trees and thumping onto the ground. I had such a profound sense of clarity, now all I needed was a carp to complete the picture. 

Cleansed

Peering out across the water it appeared that the feeding had slowed down, I really hoped that the sudden sun was going to throw them right off. I've experienced this before, everything is perfect, it's looking like a bite is on the cards. Only for the sun to start beating its heat down, thus moving the goal post considerably. A few hours past and the conditions stayed exactly the same, there was no point in me recasting or applying anymore bait. The swim was setup perfectly, patience was the key. The afternoon was swallowed up in a blink of any eye and I really started to doubt that anything was going to happen. I watch the water, the rod tips and waited, I was urging something to happen. Just when I thought that all was lost, two fish topped in the bay, they were perfectly synchronized. Directly below where they showed, streams of bubbles starting flooding to the surface. I was on edge, it all seemed too perfect.

The world fell silent .. then ... 'BOOM', my left rod was away, a huge eruption came from where I'd placed the bait. This was a big fish, I could feel it in my bones. I lifted into dead weight, the fish powered off to right with such force. I tinkered with the clutch, the 'Sportex' blank was not arched right around. Every so often it would creak - which was slightly worrying, I put this down to the fact that they really hadn't been used and the varnish/resin was expressing its disgust as they were forced out of retirement to handle such a beast on their first outing. The rod handled the carp beautifully, I was making good ground and with some careful consideration the fish was slowly coming my way. Not before too long I finally had it in netting distance, I still hadn't laid my eyes on it. All of a sudden it surfaced, it was a common and it was rather large. With my legs shaking and my arm aching I slide the net into position, 'slowly does it' ....... 'RESULT'. Peering down at the beast that laid waiting in my net, it was clear that it was a very big fish.

After The Storm, The Beast Arrives

To be honest I was totally speechless, this was a serious creature, it's as if the violence of the weather I'd experienced earlier had manifested itself into the shape of carp, and I'd gone and tamed it. The width of its back was crazy and both the color and proportions were nothing short of perfect. A few shots were taken and I slipped her back home, it was a surreal experience watching it gently glide off into the nothingness. I didn't bother casting back out, my expectations had been surpassed so I thought I'd leave on a high. It had been a short, crazy day, 'Armageddon' had arrived in the shape of a beast, a cleansing of the world through biblical rainfall had washed all the 'ills' away, and I had a chance to use a set of rods I'd been obsessing about for the best part of two decades. Who said fishing was boring?. The low evening sun accompanied me on the journey home, and as I approach London town I saw Canary Wharf looming on the skyline in the distance. I knew I was entering back into the apparent 'real world', a land of confusion, a place that offers a strange sense of isolation, the polar opposite to what angling provides. I would do my very best to survive until the next opportunity came for me to make my escape. I sensed it wouldn't be too long before the water was calling me once again.

Concrete Deserts