Braxted Reservoir Part One 'The Trance & The Hypnotists'

This blog is going to be in two parts, in the second part I'm going to be accounting for a nice relaxed session up on Braxted Reservoir. There's a link at the bottom of this post that will take you directly to the session blog. In this first part I'd like to try and explain to you my viewpoint on "the outside world". I refer to "the outside world" as the place beyond the sanctuary of the waters and rivers we fish. What effects society has a tendency to bleed over into angling, I hope you can see the connection I'm trying to make. Some of what I'm going to say might sound like the ramblings of a madman, I'm fine with that, sanity is overrated.   

Having spent the last couple of months focusing solely on Cants I felt inspired at the prospect of shifting my attention elsewhere. In some respects I'm my own worst enemy because I never consistently stick to one water for a long length of time, once I start to catch regularly, I have a tendency to move on, coming back to 'said water' when it takes my fancy. I like fishing this way because it widens my perspective and keeps me thinking, I don't get bored. As we know, every water is different and the more scenarios you find yourself up against, the more your knowledge base expands and alters as does your experience. As mentioned before, I'm still writing my 2016 sessions up, existing as an angler in 2019 my viewpoint has taken a major shift. I'm starting to get the urge to branch out further afield, I mentioned the slight frustration I was feeling in my previous blog. I'm seriously considering taking on a big pit of some kind, something that I can really focus on and get into a rythm of fishing on a regular basis. I like the idea of bleak wide open spaces with little, to no knowledge of what the water contains. Part of me feels that my 'club water days' are slowly coming to an end. Over the next few months I'm going to be considering my next move very carefully.

In regards to big pits, I feel the seed was planted decades ago but its just taken a while to firmly root. Many moons back in the days of the VHS video I remember watching a film of Andy Little and David Seaman fishing a huge desolate water, it was a deep old gravel pit with an unknown stock. The film documented 7 days of fishing, I recall the endless thought process they went through to try and extract the mystery that lurked within its eerie depths. They worked tirelessly to try and make something happen, it was on the 6th day that a breakthrough occurred. For a good few days they'd been constantly feeding their swim, both of them stood there, each with a throwing stick and they just kept on applying bait. Carp finally started to show, I can literally see it in my mind now as I type these words, out across this huge hostile landscape, life was emerging. Single shows turned into multiple acrobatic displays. The bottom was clearly starting to get kicked up and then ... 'BANG' .. it all kicked off. There was something about extracting life from something so wild and untapped that had a long lasting effect on me.

Below The Surface

 

I had a recent conversation with a friend when we were discussing the very simple subject of existence, one point I made, which pretty much sums up where my mind is at was, "my interest is focused below the surface, dry land is far too obvious" - What I mean by this could be seen as complicated, "try and bare with me whilst I go off on a rather long tangent"

Lets Take A Trip Down The Rabbit Hole
  
On a day to day basis you pretty much know what's going to happen, we wake and we work and we abuse ourselves trying to get by. We're all continually chasing after something, an idea of happiness that's been cleverly implanted in our minds by a number of influences, a happiness that may not actually exist. Personally I'm still trying to work out what that 'happiness' is, one thing I'm certain of, it doesn't involve expensive cars, big houses and loads of money. I believe 'it' contains a far greater amount of substance than anything material. Along side that, you can literally predict the day to day conflict, it's completely out of hand, a massive majority are now so divided in their views and opinions that it's almost irreparable. In reality this shouldn't cause problems, but it does. Due to the current 'political climate' in the UK, never before has a line been drawn so deeply between the population. I'm hearing all these 'slogans' and 'buzz terms' that in theory, don't actually exist. Through the years they've been made to exist, I see this as a product of 'social engineering', many think they have their own mind and their own opinions, it can come as quite a shock when people wake up and realize they don't. Your opinions are formed and shaped by the information you're exposed to, I believe a vast majority of this 'information' is manipulated and designed to get a reaction and create friction. I started to write a poem about this and there's a line in it that says, "We're all infected with a virus, it's called media bias" - this line resonates with what I'm seeing around me, not just in the UK but all over the world.

It's Us Against Us

More than ever before people are defining themselves by meaningless labels, no longer do we use our names, you're either 'Conservative' or 'Labour', you're a 'Remainer' or 'Brexiteer', you're 'left-wing', 'right-wing' or 'center'. All these terms don't exist, they've been made to exist and each one has been given a meaning as a mechanism to divide and split the collective consciousness. There really doesn't need to be any divide because we're all sharing and existing on the same frequency, we're experiencing the same consciousness. A prime example I can give of the 'collective mind' operating as one was during the last world cup. I sensed a huge shift in peoples attitudes towards one another, we were all supporting the same thing. This produced an overall feeling of unity and it gave us all an amazing feeling of hope, for those that control, hope is a very dangerous thing. Once England got knocked out it took a matter of days for the usual divides to take hold again, the feeling in the air literally changed over night. But this gives us a glimpse of what society can feel like when our collective consciousness comes together. The more I observe the world, the more I believe that we're living in an engineered reality and as humans we're literally trapped in a collective trance that we can't break out of. 

  

Lead, Don't Follow

The creators of this trance are what I call the 'hypnotists', these are the mechanisms that keep us dumb and fixated on the 'unimportant'. They include the corporations, the media in all its forms, Hollywood, the music industry, the entertainment industry, the television companies, think tanks, celebrities, the list goes on, they're all around us in every area of our existence. It's these hypnotists that influence us on a day to day basis and many are completely unaware that this is the case. They form our world view, tell us how we should think and what we should feel, who we should like and who we should hate, what we should have and what we shouldn't. They do the thinking for us and many just take it all onboard without question. I believe the less self-belief you have the easier you are to influence, if you believe in both yourself and your actions, you'll have a natural resistance to this hypnosis. We have our own minds for a reason, and that's to use and develop them. The saying, "if you don't use it you loose it" rings very true here. And looking at society and the world in general, I think more people are losing their minds as opposed to using them. Before the worldwide web and smart phones it was far easier to remove yourself from the thought-control, but nowadays it's almost impossible. Until we break this trance the conflict and ill feeling is just going to escalate further. So how do we wake up? I don't think it's possible, as a race we're too far down the rabbit hole to be able to claw our way back out.

Down The Rabbit Hole

 

The idea of a 'trance' might sound utterly ridiculous to some of you out there, I can understand why. Surely to be in a trance we have to be asleep?. This isn't necessarily the case, both 'shock' and 'trauma' create a sleep like state even though our eyes are wide open and we're fully conscious. There are forms of hypnosis that can put you in a dream like state whilst you are completely aware of your surroundings. It's this form of hypnosis that our television set provides. How many times have you been watching TV only to realize that the hours have past and you've literally lost all sense of time. Another common symptom of how effective TV is as a trance inducing tool, how many of us find ourselves falling asleep in front of it, only to find that when we go to bed we can't seem to fall asleep as easily. Surfing the web has a very similar effect, I find that your awareness is locked so firmly on your screen that you're blind to anything else. If you're not careful a whole day can disappear and all you've got to show for it is a dozen or so carefully edited and choreographed social media updates. We're looking in the wrong places for substance, the term 'habitually distracted' comes to mind, we're so preoccupied with the 'meaningless' that we've lost sight of the 'meaning'. None of this is our fault, we're up against a finely tuned machine. Billions of pounds have been invested into learning about the human mind and how to manipulate it. Why is the trance so successful? There are many layers to this question but I have a main theory, it's perpetuated by targeting the lowest common denominators in our psyche.      

Don't Question, Stay In The Trance

A few of these denominators include the ego, vanity, greed, envy, anger and possibly, delusion. I believe we live in a society where these traits are being continually targeted and massaged. The more they're stimulated the more prominent and 'normal' they become within us, they're like muscles, the more they're worked the more they grow. When it comes to an outer influence stimulating the higher traits such as honesty, courage, imagination, loyalty and dependability, I see very little working towards bringing these to the forefront, it seems these traits are continually getting buried. The trance isn't contained to just one area of our lives, it's functioning in every aspect. In recent years angling has become infected, I think it's safe to say that, back in the late 70's and 80's, carp angling didn't really contain any 'hypnotists', it was all pretty much below the radar and only those on the waters knew what was going on. Unfortunately nowadays it's a very different story, the corporate machine has come and raped every ounce of honesty and beauty that carp fishing once held. We now have master hypnotists controlling and dictating to a 'mass' that's so consumed by the trance that a vast majority of independent thinking has been removed from the equation completely. Looking back over the lowest traits listed above, I see them all within modern day carp angling, ego and envy being the strongest by far.

Drop The Lead, You'll Land More Fish

It's at this point in this post that people may well disagree with what I'm trying to say, or they simply don't quite understand the point I'm trying to make, which is fair enough. But lets try and step outside of our angling minds for just a moment. One consequence of the trance that I find utterly absurd is dropping the lead on the take, I understand there's an argument that it's safer for the carp if you're fishing near snags or in weed. However, I don't think it should be dropped in any situation, if the weed and the snags are that bad then you shouldn't be fishing in that specific spot in the first place. But .. alas .. the 'catch at any cost' mentality is another symptom of the trance. When you look at it in the most straightforward way possible, we're traveling out into the countryside to occupy a place of beauty. We're placing ourselves in and amongst many living creatures and casting our lines into waters that contain their own ecosystem and universe. I was under the impression that anglers respected their environment and we simply slotted in and out without leaving a trace. But it would appear not, now we're dumping a highly toxic material in the waters in the name of "fish care". Does anyone actually understand just how ridiculous that sounds? unfortunately many many people don't see it as a problem. The master 'hypnotists' in modern day carp angling have such a huge influence that people are blind to the fact that we are slowly destroying the one thing that we're all suppose to love and look after. Is this statement over the top? ... no I don't think it is.

Monkey See Monkey Do

This is where 'celebrity obsession syndrome' rears its pathetic head. Through my eyes 'celebrity' is another meaningless word, it creates division, it's us, 'the lower' & them, 'the higher' - it's an illusion. It would appear if someone is on the television, in the movies, in the magazines and now on You-Tube or Instagram with millions of followers, all of a sudden they're elevated into a supreme being. They're propelled into the stratosphere, untouchable by us mere mortals. Suddenly everything they wear is a 'must have', everything they do has to be copied and everything that they say is gospel and, of course, 100% the truth. People will blindly follow 'celebrity', as if in a 'trance', and that's exactly what it is, all these apparent celebrities are just different examples of the 'hypnotists' I'm talking about. It's these same 'hypnotists' that convince hundreds of impressionable girls & boys to look a certain way, even if it's detrimental to their health. It's these same 'hypnotists' that distort their face with botox, thus inspiring many a 'beautiful' young person to do the same thing, disfiguring themselves in the process. In my eyes 'celebrity obsession' has an awful lot to answer for in this day and age. People need to develop their own mind and their own sense of self and stop relocating their self belief in a 'tin god'.  Let us not forget that it's this same 'celebrity obsession' that influenced hundreds, if not thousands of 'anglers' that dropping lead, a poison, into the water ways is exceptable and a new 'cool approach'. It's these same 'hypnotists' that teach you how to spend your hard earned money on outrageously overpriced tackle that you don't really need - just so you look the part out on the bank. However, one thing that's become very apparent, they certainly don't teach you manors, etiquette and consideration, these are all the good, valuable traits that, as mentioned before, aren't stimulated nowadays in any way.

So let us go all the back to my original point "my interest is focused below the surface, dry land is far too obvious" 
   

The above paragraphs explain how I see the world, it's not a forced viewpoint, I wish I had a far more "happy go lucky" way of looking at things, unfortunately I never have and that isn't going to change now. I find everything I see in the world around me to be an 'obvious' symptom of both the system and the collective trance. When I look to the waters, especially the idea of huge desolate pits and the possibilities that they hold, there is no trance, there is no 'left', no 'right' or 'center' and there is no divide. The information we receive when we're out in the wild isn't 'engineered', it's real, you don't know what's going to happen, nothing is obvious, there are no forces controlling or manipulating the outcome, only nature itself. I've spoken about all this many times before, those of us that fish are lucky, our 'get out clause' from the bullshit is when we cast those lines into infinity. Uncertainty in any other area of our lives is a stressful situation, but it's that same uncertainty that fuels us to get out and fish, it's that uncertainty that keeps us fixed behind our rods for countless hours, days and weeks. When you're away from the bullshit you can actually discover yourself and get a little bit closer to understanding who you are and what you want out of your life. How many people say they go fishing to "get away from the stresses and strains of everyday life". Have you ever asked yourself why you feel stressed and strained?, it's because our lives have been engineered to be that way, and since 'day one' its become normalized and accepted. When you get the time, cast your lines and break the trance. 

Braxted Reservoir Part Two 'Escaping The Trance'

Braxted Reservoir Part Two 'Escaping The Trance'

The sun was high in the sky and there wasn't a cloud in sight, it was a good day. I had a chance to escape the system/trance for a short while, I'd made the decision to head up to Braxted reservoir, it's a water I like to fish when I don't want to fry my brain thinking too deeply about trying to get a bite. When I first joined CAA the reservoir was a water that I'd get really excited about. It contained a lot of 20's with a large stock of upper doubles. You could always guarantee that you where going to have a great day. Unfortunately in recent years I've found 'the res' has become a shadow of its former self, it's now overrun with hundreds of small carp and they've really effected the biomass of the water. Because the club don't own the fish they can't manage the stock like they did so brilliantly on Cants mere. This blog is from summer 2016, it was around this time that I started to see the waters deterioration. 

After a few more visits during 2016 & 2017, come 2018, I'd pulled off the place all together. As I sit writing this, I haven't fished the reservoir for well over a year, and to be honest I don't plan to fish it again, which is a real shame. But putting all that aside, it feels good to revisit the 'res' having not fished it for so long. A week or so before this session I'd taken a trip down to Burrows for literally a few hours. The session was so short that it wasn't really worth writing about, it was a lovely warm evening and I just felt that I had to cast a line. It was an 'off the cuff' decision that produced an 'off the cuff' common, it was a beautiful carp caught close to a sunken tree. It proves that sometimes it pays off to just go to the water, keep everything as simple as possible and see what happens, overthinking and over planning isn't always the way to go - I was very pleased with this capture.

Short Trip Success

On the morning of my session I felt lazy, I didn't see the point in rushing, the 'res' is good for a bite at most times during the day. To keep my head clear and avoid the possibility of 'thought pollution' I kept both the television and radio off, my wife had gone to work so I opted to eat my breakfast in silence thinking about the day ahead. The windows of both my front room and bedroom where wide open, the sun was beaming in, the net curtains were swaying as the breeze flew through my front window then exiting out the back. In the distance I could hear the sounds of the city, there were sirens, a constant hum of traffic and the occasional rumble as the train trundled along the track that's situated just a short distance away. I love mornings like this, especially when I can get 'the hell outta dodge'. Once the van was loaded I eased my way through the roads of SE7 and down onto the Woolwich road. The traffic was awful and as I looked into the distance I could see that the Woolwich road flyover was jammed right up. 

Living in London, this is the price I have to pay for not getting up at the crack of dawn, from feeling so relaxed I now started to feel wound up. Sitting in a static jam with a thousand exhaust pipes spitting poison, it was clear I needed to get out of the city before it got the better of me. As I looked at all the cars and all the people in these cars staring lifeless ahead of them, I couldn't help but think they were all in the trance that I'd spoken of in my last blog. So here I was desperately trying to escape the system, trapped motionless with a lung full of poison, as me and hundreds of others sat contained in our 'four wheeled' prison cells. I had no choice but to just sit there, silently wishing that those around me would just evaporate. After a very slow crawl I eventually found myself engulfed by the tubular hell that is the Blackwall tunnel, I can't put into words just how much I detest this 'eyesore'.

The Rat Race

Going northbound through the tunnel never feels quite right, I'm heading towards the city and everything gets really claustrophobic. The buildings tend to swallow the sky and everyone is fighting their way through the streets. Coming back southbound has a completely different feel about it, it's as if I'm escaping. Living on the outskirts of the capital is the perfect place to be, you generally don't feel trapped, everything appears more spread out and I have an exit route to the waters literally at the end of my road. Exiting the tunnel and now moving at pace, London was soon a speck in the rear view mirror. I opened the windows of the van and let the warm fresh air blast all the cobwebs of the city out of my ears. The journey flew by and as I turned off the A12 and on to the final stretch to Braxted, I was feeling excited. Pulling into the car park it was practically empty. Taking a quick wander, there were a couple of guys on back lake, front lake was empty.

The Walk Of Doom

Once my barrow was loaded I took a moment to prepare myself for the killer walk up to the reservoir. There's no easy way of doing it, it's a long hike, mostly up hill and just when you think you're getting to the top. You turn a corner and the hill gets progressively steeper, it's at the top of this final slope that the prize awaits and the dam wall end of the 'res' comes into view. As I stood at the peak of the hill I was hit by a lovely warm breeze that was firing down from the shallows, I took a few very deep breaths, I really needed them after the crippling walk. The res is surrounded by farmers fields so the wind can really pick up, when it's warm the carp have a tendency to get on the front of it. I didn't bother walking the water before setting up, I decided to be 'predictable' and fish tight to the dam wall over a heavy spread of bait. It's not brain surgery extracting the carp from the 'res', keeping it simple was the way to go. My bait of choice for this session was the 'tiger-fish', I'd been doing really well on it. Before even setting my rods up I put out about half a kilo making sure I spread it all over the area that I was planning to put my baits. Today was going to be pure boilie fishing.

View From The Swim

Regarding my rigs, I fancied a change, I'd been using my semi-fixed setup for so long. It works fine and I'm 100% confident in it, I just felt like using something different. I decided to revert back to the good old running rig. I feel this specific setup is so underused nowadays, I'd always done well on it. I can't help but wonder if some of the fish living in the more pressured waters are starting to get use to 'bolt-style' setups. I think this is something I'm going to explore over the coming months, when you think about a fishes instinctive reaction to bolt upon feeling resistance. How long does it take for a carp to go against its instincts and simply eject the bait upon feeling the weight. When I first started carp fishing I used the running rig exclusively. In past blogs I've made it no secret that initially I just couldn't get my head around the concept of a bolt rig. I was totally convinced that upon feeling the lead the fish simply dropped the bait and buggered off. Personally I believe this happens more than we think, are those single bleeps really just line bites or has a carp just ejected us, I guess this is something we'll never truly know. In the meantime I think a running setup is something I'll be moving over to.

A Simple Running Rig

    

With both rods now rigged up I was ready for the casts, I wasn't going to bother clipping up. The area that I'd baited was large, I felt that I didn't really have to worry about being super accurate. I knew that when the fish move in they're 'sure as hell' going to find my hook bait, they have a tendency to be in groups and they seem to feed heavy. Both casts were executed, both rigs plopped into the water and a soft "DONK" was felt as each came to land on the bottom. The make up of the bottom near the dam wall is mostly soft clay and silt, I love this specific area because you can literally see the carp moving in and feeding. You can almost predict when the bites are going to occur, you'll get a mass of 'fizzing' and then all hell breaks loose. Now with both baits in position I proceeded to put out another large helping of tiger-fish. I must admit, I've got to be careful because I find myself getting strangely addicted to using the throwing stick. I get a real sense of satisfaction listening to the sound the boilies make as they whizz out the end of the tube. To aid accuracy I like to give them a dip in lake water, they tend to exit the stick better than when they're dry.

Give-em A Soak

With the rods out and the bobbins clipped onto the lines, I got my swim organized and took a much needed seat. Looking through my scope I could already see some fizzing coming up in several areas where I'd put the bait in. My left hand rod which was positioned slightly further along the dam wall was bleeping and knocking. Within a matter of minutes it was away, I was on it fast and as I lent into the fish it bolted hard up towards some low lying branches. I could tell that this was a good carp, it was heavy, before I even managed to gain proper control, it had bolted under the branches. Everything went solid, as fast as the fish was on, it was gone, leaving me with a sick taste in my mouth. The rig was now very clearly stuck, I suspected there was probably a "get out clause" underneath the branches that the carp use to ditch many an angler. I cupped the spool and very slowly walked backwards keeping the pressure solid and consistent. Further and further back I walked, the mono was literally as tight as a 'military style' tripwire. I kept walking backwards, then ..... 'ping', the rig was free and as I retrieved it, thankfully I'd managed to bend the hook out leaving zero tackle in the water. 

Red Arrow Points To "Get Out Clause"

In my mind this was a false start so, after taking a long deep breath, I tied on a fresh hook-link and propelled the rig back out. Give or take a few inches, it pretty much landed in the same position. I now knew where the fish were going to head if that rod went off again, I decided to lock the clutch right up, I didn't want to be giving an inch. I put some more bait out, concentrating on spreading it right up to the spot the carp had ditched me. With the throwing stick still in hand, my right rod tore away. This fish bolted sharp to the right and headed straight towards the corner. I applied some serious side-strain to pacify its initial run. After an early explosion of energy the fish came in pretty easy. I had a feeling this carp must visit the bank a lot, it literally waved the white flag and jumped in the landing net. I felt slightly underwhelmed, it was a nice surprise to see a mirror engulfed in the mesh, considering most of the carp in the 'res' are commons. Unfortunately it was pretty beaten up, I took a few quick shots, applied some "propolis" to some of its old battle scars and quickly slipped it back.

      
A Weathered Looking Mirror

I got the rig back out followed by another helping of bait, during all this I'd been receiving liners on my other rod. There were definitely carp in my swim, it hadn't taken them long to move in at all. I reckon due to the wind direction there were fish milling around the area before I'd even turned up. With both rods back out I took a seat and continued to peer through my scope, I could see fizzing all over the place, it wasn't long before both alarms and bobbins were fidgeting like crazy. It was my left rod that was the next to go, the bobbin shot to the top and the rod started to get dragged off the rest. I was on it before 'panic mode' kicked in, the fish shot up fast towards the "get out clause", I managed to steer it away easily, this fish clearly wasn't as large as the 'escape artist' that had imitated 'Houdini' earlier on. It kited right out into the deeper water directly in front of me, I just let it run and slowly eased it towards me. I was enjoying this fight, the fish was frantic but it was a very pleasurable experience, thanks to my "3IB Ballistas". After a spirited tussle I slipped the net under a little silvery common.

Bite Number Two

Before taking a few photos I fired another couple of handfuls of bait into the swim. My other rod was bleeping and knocking so I slipped the carp back quickly just in case it went off, I didn't want to be juggling fish. I got the rod back out, hung the bobbin and sat there peering through my scope. There were clear signs of fish in the area, from a distance the swim looked pretty lifeless. It shows the importance of having a scope or binoculars of some type. I've got into the habit of using 'magnification' most of the time, it's amazing what you can see if you really look, there have been times when I was going to reel in and reposition my rigs, when on closer inspection with a scope, you could clearly see that there were carp in the vicinity. So there I was sitting on the edge of my seat peering through my 'magnification', both rods where crackling with liners. It was tense stuff, I knew a bite was imminent, sure enough my right rod screamed off. Picking it up I suspected this was one of the smaller carp, there was no pull and it was zigzagging all over the place, it wasn't taking any line, I even loosened the clutch just to hear the addictive 'ticking', it came in close and literally jumped into the net. It was another 'weathered' looking fish. For some reason, with each bite that came I was feeling more and more uninspired.

A Uninspiring Third Bite

I slipped the fish back fed the swim some more and got the rig back out. I don't know exactly what it was but I was starting to feel somewhat deflated. This was very odd for me, it was lovely being out on such a warm and bright day but the overall feeling of the 'res' and the fish I was catching appeared to be putting a dampener on proceedings. Even though the session was suppose to be a laid back affair. I couldn't help but think that I now wanted far more out of my fishing than waters like the reservoir provide. I wasn't enjoying catching these carp, it had nothing to do with the size of them, it was the condition that was getting me down. I think the carp in the 'res' are so pressured and many of them have been caught loads of times before, add the amount of small carp living in the water to the equation, and it all just feels a bit crap. The magic I felt when I first fished the place had clearly vanished. Whilst I sat contemplating the situation, my left rod tore off. Just like the bite before, it was shooting from left to right but it wasn't taking any line. Only when it was under the rod tip did it wake up, as it surfaced I caught a glimpse of another nondescript common. As I lowered the net it made a last ditch attempt to escape but was soon engulfed in the mesh.

  

More Of The Same  

Slipping the fish back I decided to reel my other rod in and stop fishing for awhile, I suspected that a large-ish shoal of smaller carp might be sitting on my bait. The plan was to let them clear me out and hopefully they'd move off, then later I'd cast a couple of singles back out and see if I could tempt a better fish. The large carp always seem to come later on in the day. It was 3:30pm now so the plan was to cast out at 5pm, I put the kettle on, brewed a coffee and decided to go for a walk around the water. I made my way up towards the shallows, looking out over all the fields, there wasn't any sign of another human anywhere, I had the whole place to myself. Just for a second I wondered what it would feel like to own my own lake, it's always been a dream of mine, being all alone with only the water as company, I imagined that both the reservoir and the fields that surround it were mine. I think it would feel pretty special to own your own secret water, you could hand pick the carp and give them a good home, I wouldn't fish it. I'd leave them alone to grow up and have a peaceful life. I imagine time spent watching both the fish and the water mature would be a very cathartic experience. There would be no restraint or control, nature would simply take its course.

Amid The Fields

As I reached the shallows I half expected to see loads of fish milling around, it was surprisingly quiet, I spotted a couple but nothing to really write home about. Sipping my coffee whilst the odd twig cracked underfoot, I felt better just existing by the water than actually having my rods out. Now on the opposite bank from where I'd set up, my swim looked a mile away and the dam wall looked huge. It's amazing how the perspective of both the swims and the water can change depending on where you're standing. I made my way down the bank and onto the stretch of the dam wall, all the branches were overgrown and obstructing the path. I clambered through until my swim was in view, with the mini expedition over I daydreamed and watched the water right up until 5pm. Then both rigs, each with a single hook bait, got launched back into the swim. Now with the bobbins hung and a newly found enthusiasm, I sat static staring across the water. 

The early evening is by-far my favorite time, activity on the water tends to increase and the 'magic-hour', more times than not, tends to produce a take or two. It was dead on 6pm when my left rod ripped away, this was a violent bite, I immediately it was a better fish. As I lent into it my 'Ballista' arched right over, I swear I heard the blank give off a 'yelp'. With the clutch humming, the carp made its way across the open water at a serious pace. This was the first bite of the day that I felt excited about it was pile-driving, left, right and center, I was embroiled in a real battle. With the sun slowly lowering, I was still totally alone with the water to myself, standing connected to a mystery that was minutes away from coming into view. As the carp came in closer, it surfaced, it was a long looking common with a lovely grey back and white belly. Catching a quick glimpse, I was eager to get it in the net, closer and closer it came, it was now in spitting distance of the landing net. After one last run around I was soon netting a beauty of common carp.

A Perfect Fish To End The Day

Once the fish was safe in the cradle I took time to admire it, there was one slightly damaged scale that I treated. Apart from that it was spotless and a solid reminded of why I use to love the 'res' so much. I know that between the hoarders of tiny carp that now inhabit the place, there's always going to be a few secrets swimming around somewhere. I decided not to cast out again, instead I reeled both rods in and slowly packed away. With the sun lower in the sky than it was an hour ago, I took one last look at the 'res', the mallards were fighting and the coots were skipping along the waters skin. I trundled down the hill and onward through the farm yard, the scent of cow poo hit me as I past the the cattle buildings. It had been a strange day, it was only towards the end that I started to feel inspired. I just genuinely feel like I've grown out of the place, it would be November when I'd revisit the res for my next session. In the meantime, in the short-term, I'm going to be heading back down Burrows for a series of sessions where I concentrate all my efforts on a section of the water that I call the 'bottle-neck'.

The journey home was easy, I flew down the A12 at a leisurely pace, I was driving towards the sun, minute by minute it slowly fell below the horizon line. As I edged closer and closer to London I could feel the traffic getting heavier, I could feel the system closing down around me. To avoid the 'thought pollution' I kept the radio off, once home I didn't switch the television on. Between now and the next session I was going to do my best to avoid the 'psychological ball & chain' the media like to put on our thought process. But I knew it was going to be tough, it just a matter of time before both 'the trance' & 'the hypnotists' would do their best to muddy the waters, to continue to divide all of us. I was counting the days till I could, once again, make my escape and leave our engineered reality behind. It turned out I'd be back out within the fortnight, I look forward to sharing the next set of sessions with you. It's and interesting section of water that I focused on with some equally interesting results.     

  

"When you get the time, cast your lines and break the trance". 

Cants Mere 'Head In The Past'

Its been a while since I've had both the time and focus to take a seat and put 'fingers to keyboard'. Now with Spring finally in full form after, what seemed like a very long, cold and miserable Winter, my head is well and truly lost on the waters once again. This year I've joined a new club and I've been totally obsessed with working out the two venues I've chosen to focus on. I managed to get a few Winter trips under my belt, not as many as I would've liked, however I was lucky enough to land some nice fish. When the temperatures really dropped and the snow came, it pretty much killed off all the action. I used this time to get on with work and bury my head in some 'carp fishing literature'. Every so often I have to revisit the past to help me understand how certain things have evolved, not just in fishing, both music and drums as well. Looking back can help you see things in a simpler, less confused way, and because the past is now very much ignored, taking inspiration from it can change the way you view what you're doing in the 'here and now'.    

I found myself reading Kevin Maddocks 'Carp Fever' for the 30th time and getting totally sucked into 'Carp County - Kent and the Evolution Of Carp Fishing'. Both of these books hark back to the 'wonder years' of carp angling and it became apparent, 'as I was getting lost among the pages', it's the distant past of our beloved sport that inspires me the most. I find this puts me in a weird place because, the now over-saturated and extreme commercialization of carp fishing has turned it into a very different beast, one that bares no resemblance to what it once was. You've got to be careful when it comes to 'nostalgia', you can look back through rose tinted glasses and convince yourself that things were so much better 'back in the day'. When in reality that isn't always the case, however I feel with carp fishing, the best days are very much behind us. I consider myself lucky because when I started at the beginning of the 90's, I feel that I experienced the tail end of the 'glory days' and those early years will stay with me forever. 

Those Days Of Magic

I understand 'progress' but like I've mentioned many times before, 'progress' doesn't always make things better. I know it depends on what specific field we're speaking of. Obviously 'progress' in both science and technology has been, and remains to be both unbelievable and invaluable. But in other areas it can tear the heart and soul clean out of the issue. For me elements of apparent 'progress' in carp angling amount to simple 'convenience'. The main aspect that really catches me about the 'pioneers' of the past was the sheer determination and focus to catch. Size didn't come into it, it was simply about getting the bites, if a monster came along in the process then that made it all the sweeter. But the true fundamental was learning the 'craft' of real angling and enjoying the whole experience and journey. 

When you read the two books I've mentioned above, the enjoyment, the journey and the friendships made along the way were on par, if not more important than the fish they caught. Each element fueled the other, there were no distractions, marketing campaigns and a barrage of unnecessary products to pull you away from the essence of what you were doing. Reading about how excited these guys got landing singles and doubles is where the real honesty lies for me. The gear they used was basic, with a vast majority of it being homemade, the clothes they wore were standard, completely unfashionable and usually not up to the job. But none of that mattered, it was about the waters and the fish that lived within them.

Nowadays I think for many, this has got completely lost somewhere down the line. I'm personally having a hard time trying to find inspiration. So many waters are over fished and from what I'm seeing the carp are suffering for it - this is something that I will be touching on in a future blog. I've come to understand, for me to feel inspired about my own fishing, I have to keep my head well and truly out of the 'modern day', and quietly continue to try and walk my own path. Paying too much attention to the 'current carp circus' can really muddy my perspective. I find this leads me to stray away from the 'circuit/named fish waters', targeting places that may only contain a few larger fish. 

But to be honest, I prefer it this way, not only does it make it special when you catch some of the larger residence. It minimizes the stupidity and contact that you can come across when a water is full of big carp and everyone is chasing them. In regards to the magic I once felt back when I first started, I do feel it's still possible to obtain. I just think you've got to put more effort in trying to find it. So, to all you guys and girls out there that love their fishing, who sometimes find themselves void of inspiration. I urge you to dip back into our angling past every now and again, I'm sure you'll find something that will connect with you and help to keep your flame burning bright.

Innovation - Not Imitation

In this blog I'd like to account for an afternoon session up on Cants mere, after my last trip being such a success. I was itching to get back with the hope I could trick a few more carp into taking my carefully positioned treat. After a quick job in the morning I headed up to the water for midday, the conditions were very different to last time. It was warm and bright with a very light breeze, this helped take the edge off the heat from the sun. I was scooting up the A12 with the windows of the van fully open, the further I got from the city, the sweeter the smell. 

As I left London I was clearly inhaling the fumes from a thousand engines, you could see a giant cloud of smog looming over Canary Wharf. There were sirens, car horns and a general mood of frustration, this all slowly melted away when I hit the back roads just a few miles away from Cants. The air was clear, clean, with the occasional 'whiff' or horse manure, if I could blend the smell of 'carp slim' into the mix then it would almost be the perfect aroma. Finally arriving at the gates to Cants, I shuffled the padlock in my hands, opened it and proceeded to drive up the bumpy path to the car park. I was now in a 'secret world' only a few knew of, best of all, I was the only one on the whole complex.

Dumping everything on my 'ever deteriorating' MK11 carp porter, I made my way down to the banks of Cants, passing Blunts on the way, I couldn't help but stop and take a moment to observe the peace. I spotted a few dark shadows just under the surface of the water, I stood there transfixed until they slowly glided out of view. As the first part of Cants came into view, I could see a lovely gentle breeze pushing down towards the car park bank. I made my way around to swim 8, left my gear and then took a slow walk around the lake. Everything appeared to be quiet, I couldn't see any fish in the upper layers which was surprising considering the warmth and scum lines that were developing. I decided to keep it simple and approach the water exactly the same way as I did last time. Swim 8 gave me access to the two bars that ran down either side of the island, they produced for me before so I saw no reason why they wouldn't again. 

Tiger Fish

I'm not usually so one dimensional but considering this was my second session on the place, I wanted to work my way in slowly. For those that may have missed my first session, you can view it here Cants Mere Part 1. My approach was going to be exactly the same as the previous trip, simple semi-fixed bottom bait rigs with a nice spread of boilie over each rod. My hook-link material was my ever faithful 'Trigga-Link' combined with 'Sufix' Camfusion. The hairs were long, fished on a 'blow-back'. As usual I'd opted to use my 5.3mm rig rings, these provide perfect separation and free movement of the bait. I'd run out of Pineapple CSL so I'd chosen to use the 'tiger-fish'. To finish the whole thing off I was going to use small mesh bags containing 'multi-mix' pellets with a sprinkle of hot chilli hemp ground bait. This would not only spice up my hook bait but also add a nice dash of color.

Mesh Bag Contents

A few measured casts with a lead and braided line saw me locate the bars super quick, both rods were clipped up and pinged out with no fuss, I then spread a fairly large amount of bait around both areas. I wanted enough out there to attract any carp that might be passing through, today there was no time for subtleties. Large beds of bait worked very well last time so I was hoping to mirror the success in the short time that I had. I may only be fishing to what amounted to 5 or so hours but I sensed the carp would be up for a fair bit of grub, everything in the 'ether' felt right. Bobbins were hung and the alarms were switched on, I was now officially 'angling' and it felt really good. It seemed like an age had past since I was last out and if there's one time in my life where I can clear my mind and align myself with the world, it's when I'm perched behind 'the carbon', watching, thinking and waiting.

The universe around the lake was buzzing with life, the trees were creaking, every branch was stretching towards the sun, the bees and insects were buzzing incessantly and the continuous politics from the geese and ducks were whipping up the waters surface to a foam.  All these things might seem obvious for some but when you live in a void of continuous bodies and industrial clutter like London, you learn to look, listen and appreciate all the tiny little aspects you're so often starved of. I consider myself very lucky that, literally, just at the end of my road I'm straight onto the motorway, turning right is my escape route up to Chelmsford and turning left takes me right into the heart of 'Carp County' itself, Kent.  

 View From The Swim

Sitting back in my chair, it took all of three seconds for me to get locked into my usual ritual of watching both the water and my rod tips. My focus would move from the waters skin and then to the tip of the blank and back again. I started to get visions of those old 'cat' clocks with the eyes that moved back and forth, no wonder when I leave the water at the end of each session my vision is distorted as if everything appears to be rippling. The reason I do this is pretty straightforward. I don't want to miss anything and there's been so many times when my tips 'nudge' and 'knock' without registering on the alarms. Anything that signals to me that fish are about is valuable information. It turned out that I didn't have to be so acute in my observations because I started to get some major liners on my right hand rod almost straight away.

 The Tips, The Water, And Back Again

Through the next 20 minutes or so the liners kept reoccurring and I had absolutely no doubt that fish were feeding on my freebies, I knew it was just a matter of time before my rod went off. I sat on the edge of my seat waiting for the imminent chaos to occur, I knew I had to be on my rod quick because, for experience, the carp in Cants fire away like rockets. Sure enough the bite came, the rod melted off at such a pace that, even though I was expecting it, it still surprised me. I was on it fast, as expected the rod arced round and the clutch 'whizzed' and 'whirled', I let the fish run and take as much line as it wanted. The first minute or two I let the fish 'blow its initial load', then I started to tease it my way. Due to the deep margins, when it came in close it was powering downwards. There were a few tense moments involving the marginal snags but eventually I eased the fish over my net cords. It was a lovely looking mirror, long with a dark bronze coloration.

Cants Bronze

It was nice to catch a mirror considering they're pretty thin on the ground in most of the Chelmsford waters. It was clean all over and scale perfect, however it did have some mouth damage which was sad to see. I treated it with my Propolis and speedily got it back home. I'd like to use this time to express my concern about the increasing mouth damage that I'm coming across. It really does appear to be getting worse and to be totally honest its starting to get me down a lot. I understand that sometimes it's unavoidable, we all occasionally get dodgy hook holds and some hook-link materials have a tendency to cut more than others, but I don't think that the damage I'm seeing is purely down to that. I think its got more to do with some people having no real understanding of how to 'play' a fish correctly. I feel this is down to lack of education, the mags and DVDs may promote how to look after your catch whilst on the bank but few, if any, actually demonstrate how to 'play' a fish safely.

Side Thought

Nowadays with the mind control-fashion of 3.5 test curve rods, heavy lines, cluttered rigs - and instant anglers, it's no surprise that the fish are suffering for it. In my mind these types of rods are solely designed for distance and maybe solid bags, you can land all sizes of carp on a 2.5 - 2.75 - 3IB test curve rod with no bother. If anything you have more chance of landing it because the blank is far more forgiving so the chance of the hook 'tearing' out is minimized greatly. Not only that but the fight is far more pleasurable and instinctive because you can feel every tug and pull. The whole point of playing a fish is to tire it out, if this is done correctly then the whole procedure of unhooking, weighing and taking a few photos is made much easier. If the carp is tired it wont be flipping about, thus minimizing the chances of it getting damaged whilst out the water.

I find when a fish is ready for the net it will signal this by going up on its side, yanking, hurrying and rushing it in is not the way to do it. Remember that any damage or deformity that you inflict, the carp will have to live with for the rest of its life. Not only that but it spoils the whole 'catching' experience for the anglers out there that want to be seeking out well conditioned fish. I feel that, as anglers, when we catch a fish, the whole point of the procedure is to return it as if untouched. I think that all of us should keep this in mind and aspire to achieve it, when I have a session where all the fish have been returned to their home in the same condition they came out, then I feel I've not only achieved what I set out to do but it makes the whole experience far more fulfilling for, not only myself, but for others that will go on to catch those fish in the future.

Back To The Session 

After a few quick photos I slipped her home and got the rod back out. I held off on putting anymore bait out, I only had a short time left so I didn't see the point. In true angling style, the time was running away from me and before I knew it, it was early evening. Half day sessions can be very frustrating because when you're just starting to get into it, it's time to pack up. I decided to wait it out until later, the chance of another fish was too tempting, even if it meant getting home late. It was a pleasure to watch the day play out and as the sun started to lower slightly, and the breeze evaporating to nothing. The atmosphere of the water completely changed and I had a very strong feeling that something magic could happen.

Closing The Day On Cants With Eric

Last knockings started to crawl towards me but I sat tight, I'd had a few 'bleeps' on my left rod but nothing came from them. Strangely, 15 or so minutes later, my right rod started to pull and knock, the bobbin would gently rise and drop again. I was now completely transfixed on both the water and my rod tip as if, in some strange way my intense concentration might magically make it go off. It just so happened that a few minutes later, it did. The alarm screamed and the rod tip bent tight round, the fish had bolted straight towards the snaggy channel to my right. 

As I picked the rod up it was 'pile driving' towards the snags, I tightened up and gave as much side strain as I could. I quickly found the sweet spot on my clutch so, just as the rod was about to lock up, it would feed off just the right amount of line. As mentioned previously in this blog, no 'yanking' or 'heaving' took place, I didn't want to get this carp in to find that I'd cut its mouth up. Steady, sensible pressure was maintained until I managed to turn the fish towards me, it was a crazy fight and right down to the last second it gave everything it had. The fish revealed itself as it slowly went up on its side to signal defeat, it was a long dark common, easily in the low to mid 20IB bracket.

A Truly Incredible Carp

This was a serious fish and the photo above really doesn't do it justice, firstly and most importantly, the hook hold was nice and clean, it was super long, dark and each scale was perfectly positioned. The sheer power in the fight was nothing short of 'spectacular', last knockings delivered me with a prize that I'd never forget. I took a minute to admire it, got some shots and sent her back home - in exactly the same condition she came out. In my mind I'd accomplished exactly what I set out to do, I packed up slowly and as I made my way back to the van the sun was starting to fade, the heat of the day had ceased and the world was a few hours away from sleep. Driving back down the bumpy track to the gate, I shuffled the padlock once more, which gave me entry back into the apparent 'real world', a place I'm not so keen on. Locking the gate behind me, I had a vision that the time on both Blunts and Cants would simply stop and slip into some kind of strange cryogenic trance, and upon my return they'll wake and everything will spring back into life once again.