Wick Mere 'A Royal View'

I hadn't really been in a rush to get back down to Wick, mainly because, with the woods closed, the going swims were pretty much on rotation 24/7. When I think back to the previous year doing 'days only' I literally drove myself insane trying to bank my first carp, I must of done at least 25 sessions before breaking through. It was really very simple in the end, you had to be on the fish to catch them and because the woods were closed, they grouped up in that area and pretty much stayed there. Two swims gave you access to where they were hauled up, when I managed to get into either of these swims, I caught. For those of you that keep up with my blogs, you'll know that it all came good in the end, but it was a very frustrating journey.

The Day Closing Over Wick 'Summer 2015'

There were some whispers that the woods would open up again once the water had drained so the trees could be felled. No one was certain exactly when this was going to happen, I felt that once the carps 'safe zone' had been taken away, it might start to push them back into actively patrolling the whole water again. Having spent so much time fishing elsewhere I suddenly had a 'calling' from Wick to get back on its banks. Instead of planning a long drawn out session I made the decision that I'd do a half day visit, sometimes a quick, short, sharp, shot does the trick.

One of the things that always gets me excited about Wick is the stamp of commons that it holds. They're dark, long and really hard fighting, actually, as I sit and write this, it's been reported that a 42IB common has recently graced someones net. It doesn't surprise me at all, the mere is fairly large and has so much weed and natural food for the carp to feed on. Give it another few years and I think it's going to hold a very large head of big fish. It's a water that I will always visit and I believe there are still a few surprises ghosting around in its depths.

A Memorable Wick Capture

On the day of the session it was humid and muggy, partially overcast with patchy drizzle. My carp senses were in overdrive, it felt so right for a bite and I couldn't wait to get the rods out. I had a feeling the 50 or so miles ahead of me were going to feel very long. My mind was stitching together so many different scenarios, I was really hoping that one of the 'going swims' would be available, if not I knew I'd be having to fish in 'no mans land'. It's a proper head-ache when the swim you're in is as dead as a dodo, but you can clearly see the carp partying in an area of water that you just can't reach. 

This can be a common experience on Wick, they're not afraid to show themselves, more times than not, they put on one hell of a display as they leap continuously out the water. I've counted up to 30 shows in the space of a few minutes, it's as if they're laughing at you. Times like these I have very little going through my mind other than, Carp-1 Paul-0. Today was going to be different though, I could feel it, and I was going to do my very best to get one of those lovely dark commons in my landing net mesh.

On arrival I was very surprised to be met with an empty car park, it was looking like I was going to have the whole of the mere to myself. The adrenaline kicked in, I proceeded to get the barrow loaded at an alarmingly high speed and headed down to the waters edge. I was afraid that my excitement was going to cloud my judgement so I took some time out and slowly walked the whole of the water. Everything looked so perfect, the clouds were moody, there was a light drizzle and the world around me appeared so vivid. Standing alone with only my dog Eric as company, I really felt like I was stood within a water-colour painting. 

As expected, the carp were putting on a show, a few leapt clean from the water just by the island. I counted four shows along the back end of the woodland bank. It was pretty clear where I needed to be, so I headed round to a swim that gave me access to both the woodland margin and the island. Once in the swim it suddenly hit me just how heavy the weed growth was, this was going to be really tricky, not just getting a bait in but also sinking my line properly without it getting embedded in all the surface weed.  

Swim Position

Before even contemplating getting a bait out I wanted to have a feel around the spots that I was planning to fish. I didn't want to dedicate a great deal of time to this, solely because I didn't have a great deal of time ahead of me. Also, if there were fish in the area I didn't want to be spooking them away. A couple of measured casts later I'd found a few spots where the weed wasn't too bad. Usually in these circumstances I'd fish a 'safe' helicopter system but this time around I opted for my 'pop up claw' rig.

Pop Up Claw Rig

The above rig can be fished on both a rotary system or a 'semi-fixed/running' lead arrangement. Today I was going to use a 'POM' lead setup, this is similar to the 'COG' but without all the 'bells & whistles', simply put, you have a secondary running swivel on your hook-link that connects to a grommet in the lead. The hook-link is a lot longer than usual and I find when fished in combination with a perfectly balanced bait, it presents itself perfectly over low lying debris and weed. 

Secondary Swivel Pressed Into Grommet

The advantage to this setup is simple, if you have to ditch the lead then you're able to do so. I don't endorse ditching leads at all, but on the occasions where it would be detrimental to the fish not to, then I'm all for it. Dropping the lead on every take just for the hell of it, in my mind, is bad angling practice. Due to the amount of weed in front of me I was going to need all the help I could get to land a fish safely. 

The actual claw of the rig is produced by simply steaming a curve into a full length of heat shrink tubing, how aggressive that curve is, is entirely up to you. The final element in my mind which makes this rig so effective is the micro swivel on the hook, this creates what I call "a safe 360" effect. Meaning that whatever direction the carp comes on to the bait from, it allows the hook to spin around and hopefully take hold. 

Micro Swivel In Place Of A Hair

The image below shows the finished presentation from above, if you can visualise the water being nice and murky with weed and debris fluttering around. From a 'carps eye view', it sits proud offering a tasty little treat that any passing fish would find hard to resist. It always takes me a little time to balance the bait perfectly, it's key to get the hook-bait to sink super slowly so it rests on whatever is on the lake bed, you don't want the bait burying itself and disappearing into a mass of debris. Finally this will be fished on a leader, again, I'm not a fan of them but with the amount of shelves and swan mussels that are in Wick, it has to be done.

A Carps Eye View

So, now with all the technical waffle out the way, it was time to get on with some fishing. With both rods rigged up it was now a case of getting them on the spots. The left rod was wrapped 13 times, this put me directly under some overhanging trees right at the start of the woodland bank. Due to the crazy weed out by the island, I found a clearer spot directly out in front of me, 10 wraps placed me perfectly on this. My bait of choice was Strawberry Mivvi, I decided I was going to put out two fairly large spreads. I wanted to try and attract some fish in, taking into account a fair number of freebies would fall into the weed.

View From The Swim

The rods were out, the bait was out and now it was time to sit back and take it all in. There's nothing quite like sitting back and putting your feet up when you're 100% confident in what you are doing. The coffee came out and so did the sun, here I was alone on the mere with a proper "Royal View" in front of me and one of those long dark commons that I always seem to dream of could be moments away from making its presence known.

Too my surprise the left rod flew into action whilst I was enjoying my coffee mid-gulp, I shot up spilling it all over me and lunged for the rod. The fish took off up the margin at crazy speed and managed to shoot headfirst into a lovely thick weed bed. I kept the pressure on, there was a slight jolt and as quick as it was on, it came off. I took the positive "there were fish in the swim". So I brushed myself down and got the rod back out, followed by three modest handfuls of bait. This time I was going to 'lock up', this would hopefully put the breaks on the take, giving me a better chance of avoiding the same thing from happening again. 

Eric Keeping An Eye On Things

The afternoon progressed and the carp activity increased, there were fish showing all along the woodland bank and around the island. My expectations were through the roof, I knew it was just a matter of time before I received a gift. As I sat clocking the activity around me a carp jumped within yards of my left hand rod, it looked like a good fish. I was willing it to find my bait, in preparation for what might occur, I hovered close to my rods, I really didn't want to lose another fish to the weed. Perched, striking hand at the ready pure poetry ensued. The rod arched round and it was away, I was on it like a shot. 

The carp tried to take the same route as the last one, immense side strain stopped it in its tracks. I kept the pressure on, the fish was giving me some serious stick but I held tight adjusting the clutch accordingly. Very slowly she was coming my way, weed was strung all up the line and I sensed that there was a fair clump attached to the end tackle. The rod was creaking, carefully I continued to guide her my way, quarter of the way out, the fish surfaced, I briefly witnessed a long dark back cut through the surface layers. The adrenalin kicked in, I had to land this fish.

The closer it came the thicker the weed, it was 'touch and go' but with steady and gentle pressure I managed to tease her over my net, what a relief!. Parting the abundance of canadian that engulfed everything, I was met with a beautiful dark common, a classic Wick mere specimen. I didn't bother weighing her but I guessed she wasn't far off 20IB. Size is irrelevant, it was once again the process of this capture that interested me. The presentation was right and so was the location, once again, a short, sharp session had produced the goods.

A Classic Wick Mere Common

The rest of the day retired itself to evening, no more bites came but I was more than happy with the result. I made my way back to the car as the sun was setting, the world felt somewhat perfect for the first time in a long while. Now I'd had my 'Wick Fix', my mind was already thinking about where I was going to head off to next. I was feeling that my next trip might be a little closer to home, it appeared that Burrows was now calling me back and it was a calling I wasn't going to pass up.

The Stock Pond 'The Time Thief'

A considerable amount of time had passed since my last session, I'd managed to get out on a few trips but they all resulted in a blank. The weather had been so hot and I'd found myself scratching to get a bite pretty much everywhere I went, add a lot of work into the equation, a fair chunk of summer had flown by in a instant. I managed a few fish out the Braxted reservoir but they were nothing to really write home about. I still had a lot going on off the bank but I did manage to steal an afternoon in between everything. I chose to make a trip back down the stock pond, I was inspired by my last session. 

Looking back over my previous years results, I had one hell of a season, for me, the current year so far had been pretty tough going. I certainly wasn't getting out as much as I would've liked and the heat we'd been experiencing, without a doubt, had slowed the fishing down. Putting all these minor points aside, I work on the basis that you just have to work with what's available to you and make the best of it. I find that when we get prolonged periods of heat, it might be nice to be out on the bank but it's not always best on the fishing front. I think there can be a huge misconception about summer angling, for those of us who fish through all the seasons, you do find yourself looking forward to the warmer weather.

As we know, when the heat comes the fish start feeding 'more' and they're usually very active, I think subconsciously we feel that we're going to start hauling the minute summer arrives. From past experience I know that it's not always the case. Spring can be a very productive period, but if the heat hits quickly and water temperatures rise fast. The carp can become very sluggish and before you know it they're thinking about spawning. At this point, feeding isn't high on their priorities, then we have a "post-spawning" period and depending on the lake you're fishing, it can take a while for the carp to start feeding properly again. 

In conclusion, for me, the best times to be out on the bank are spring, late summer right through Autumn, up until mid winter when the first ice freezes the waters. When I have my angling head well and truly screwed on I find, if I'm not careful, I'm constantly looking ahead to the changing of the season or the impending months. The expectation is always there, that if fishing has been slow, 'the carp are sure to kick off' any week now. Adopting this outlook, life can pass you by very quickly, each pivotal point of every year in my mind is angling related. The saying "don't forget to the smell the roses along the way" is very fitting to this mentality. I really have to master living in the now and appreciating time, time is not something to be wished away, it can either be your friend or a thief, it's all down to how you choose to use it.

On the day of the session I had a few things to do in the morning, the plan was to get to the water just after midday. The stock pond is usually pretty good for a bite come the late afternoon, I wasn't in a rush. If I could tempt just one fish then I'd be more than happy. Half day sessions can be quite refreshing, for my perspective to stay finely tuned I need to balance my time on the bank carefully. When I'm on shorter sessions I'm inclined to try a number of different things that I usually wouldn't go with on my long day trips. If I get results then I will carry whatever approach I'm using over into my full day sessions. 

For example I really learnt how to fish adjustable zigs on a series of half days. Once I'd learnt how to make the method work for me then it was a lot easier sitting behind my rods on a long session feeling confident in the approach. It's not about how much time you're out on the bank, it's about how that time is used, that's what counts. I found that when I use to fish consecutive nights, a few days in, I was so dam tired that I really wasn't fishing effectively, I expelled most of my energy on trying to stay awake. My angling is all about the 'mindset', to finish my point off, "the less time you have the more effort you put in to make something happen".

Upon arriving at the pond I was met with a deserted landscape, other than the horses, coots and geese, I was the only human about, the main lake was also empty. The weed was flourishing, it was way heavier than my previous trip. I took some time to have a mooch about, paying close attention to both the reed lines. When the banks are deserted, the carp love to get behind the reeds, you can usually see them ghosting in between the stems. I didn't see any signs of them close in so I decided to target the open water.

The wind was pushing hard down into the bottom corner, this is an interesting little area, you have a small set of reeds out in the open. A lot of weed always gets pushed down and collects along the edge of both the reeds and the margins. There's nearly always a few fish passing through, there's a small gravel bar that gently descends from the point of the reeds. I was going to be fishing both my baits on it, one rod was going to be a foot or so off the reeds, the other, a couple of rod lengths along. 

View From The Swim

In the image above I've marked up where the 'gravel run' is located, it's only a few feet deep. In the back ground you'll notice flat spots, this is weed. Down to the right of my swim is a corner which was thick with the stuff, I had a gut feeling that a few fish would be holding down amongst it. I was really going to have to sink my line because I didn't want the fish to detect it if/when they were passing through the channel in front of me. Just like last time, I'd given myself one cast on each rod, I didn't want anymore disturbance than necessary. 

Regarding my bait, today I was going to use a combination of fruity flavours, I wanted to have a proper fruit cocktail going on in the solid bags. On the hair was a cut down Pineapple CSL bottom bait, the crushed boilies consisted of 'Strawberry Mivvi', 'Raspberry Ripple' and 'Honey Nectar'. I liked the idea of mixing both a sweet birdseed and Milk Protein bait together, I was going for maximum attraction on this session. Because the lake was chocked I knew there was going to be a hell of a lot of "naturals" to compete with. I wanted something that a passing carp just couldn't ignore.

A Fruit Selection

My hook link was a short trigga-link combi, the lead was my usual 2.5oz flat pear inline. All of this was going to be tightly packed into a medium sized solid bag. Thinking back to most of my sessions on the stock pond, I've always caught on the old school flavours. Combining them all together made complete sense, also it was something a little different to what I'd tried before. If I could tempt a bite then it was an approach that I would put into practise on my other waters.

Visual Attraction

So, with both bags tied I very carefully made the casts, it was such a short distance that I was able to get them spot on. Even though it was only a short cast I feathered them down, each bag literally kissed the water with two quiet 'plops', I was happy. I had the afternoon and early evening ahead of me, I took a seat, sparked the kettle up and prepared for 'the wait'. The stock pond is a place I could easily sit by even if I didn't have my rods out, I've mentioned it before but its location is special. It's all flat lands and vacant plains that stretch down to the estuary, there's nothing quite like looking as far as possible into the horizon to help untangle the thoughts in your mind, 'I live my life in knots'.

Testing A Bag in The Margins

A few hours passed, I'd be watching the water carefully when all of a sudden a fish cut the surface down in the corner to my right. The bank I was on was very high so I kept low to the ground and went to take a closer look, it was very clear too me that there were two carp moving very slowly through the weed. I sat quietly whilst they poked about, they were rather clumsy in giving themselves away. I put this down to the fact that they hadn't detected my presence, once again, this highlights how important it is to keep bank-side disturbance to a minimum.

I suddenly felt really confident, if those fish were to move out the corner and come my way, they were sure to come across one of my traps. Also, working on the basis that there might be other carp in the area, I was positive that a bite was on the horizon. Sitting calmly was very difficult now, I was anticipating a bite, I was really on edge, any moment my prize could reveal itself. Polishing my third coffee off didn't really help calm the situation.

3rd Coffee 

I continued to watch the carp until the activity disappeared, they were there for a good half hour before moving off. The wind dropped and the cloud came over, it was now approaching early evening, time had passed so fast. My anticipation held out and when I received a 'liner' on both rods, it became clear that fish were now moving in front of me. Minutes after the liners my left rod bleeped a few times, the bobbin dropped a few inches, paused and then BANG!, it was away. The fish went powering off up the lake, I leapt on the rod with lightening speed but the fish had already ploughed through a submerged weed bed. 

I kept my panic to a minimum, the whole reason I was fishing with a leader was if a situation like this occurred. I kept the pressure on and just held it, you don't need to "rip in to them" in these sort of situations. Once I'd reached the maximum pressure that I was willing to use, I held it at that point. I could feel that I was slowly gaining some ground, the carp was starting to fidget, a minute or so passed and the game was back on, it was out, I was relieved but the war wasn't over yet.

I was now fishing on a tight clutch letting the rod do all the work, the fish attempted to bury me again but I managed to stop her, she was tiring, so was I. Very gently I was teasing her towards me, I caught a glimpse of a lovely dark mirror, it looked like a fair size fish. The net was lowered, teasing her a little bit more.. RESULT! she was safely in the net. I gave both me and the fish a few minutes to recover, it was nail biting stuff. Clearing the weed that she was buried in, I was met with the sight of a lovely old mirror carp, and what a carp she was. 

The Battle Was Won

I was over the moon with this fish and another prime example of what the stock pond has to offer, it always amazes me the stamp of fish that are lurking in such a small water. Another short successful session was now underneath my belt, from a 'perspective' point of view, I really do enjoy quick trips, especially if you manage to catch. With each carp I catch I seem to get an injection of enthusiasm, in that very moment of releasing the fish I experience a high that can't be replicated through any chemical drug.

I packed up slowly, once everything was on the barrow I decided to walk around the water one last time, the light was fading and the wind was calm. The distant lights over in Rochester were illuminating the horizon line, there was no one around, not a single soul. It was magic, what other pass time puts you in such amazing places, as I stood there, now in darkness, I found it so hard to believe that I was only 30 minutes away from the capital. Loading the van, I was once again 'city bound', on the journey home I was planning my next escape, time to get back up Wick mere.

A Different Kind Of Wilderness

Micklem Mere 'Fishing For Mysteries' Part 4

A few weeks had passed since my last session, I had a lot of work to do, even though I wasn't physically on the bank my thoughts were. I go through stages where I really do find it hard to curb my obsession, it's hard to strike a balance between work, family and fishing. If I'm not careful my angling has a tendency to bleed into every aspect of my life, when the weathers warm I start getting the itch, I picture the waters in my mind and mill over the spots I'd like to be fishing. 

At certain times of the year I get flash backs to years gone by and the baits I was using at the time. I think back to when me and my friend would cobble all our pennies together, we'd go down to our local tackle shop and buy all the ingredients we needed to make Nash 'Sting Fishmeal'. We'd gone halves on a bait making kit, we use to stink our parents houses out on a regular basis knocking up kilos of the stuff. We'd be furiously rolling, deep in conversation, nattering about the secret carp that lived in our local club waters.

During the summer holidays we'd go fishing for a week at a time, our only connection with reality was when we use to take a trip to the tackle shop or supermarket to stock up on supplies. We use to spend most of our time on a lake called 'Holts', which is now known as 'Stream Valley Fisheries' down in Crowborough, East Sussex. It was on this water that I learnt how to fish, it was magic, located deep within a valley surrounded by trees, it was like another world. I remember fishing it a few years back and I literally got a lump in my throat thinking back to the amazing times I'd had down there. There was a small group of us that use to fish all the local lakes for the carp.

One of my fondest memories was when my mates Dad would occasionally bring down fish and chips and a couple of cans of beer, we'd put the cans in a bag in the margin to keep them cool, we'd secure the bag with a bank stick and as the sun started to fade we'd crack-em open and sit back watching the day end. It seems a shame that I'm not in touch with any of these 'old friends' anymore. But as we know, life happens and we all go our separate ways, I feel blessed to still be fishing and all these great memories will never fade. My angling journey has been so great and I will continue it until the end of my days.

'Holts' 1994'

The day of my Micklem session I woke up early to bright sun and a totally blue sky, summer was in full swing. Opening the window in my bedroom, the fresh morning air came seeping into the room, I took a deep breath and inhaled the new day, exhaling yesterdays remnants. It was a fine day to be alive, an even better day to get out and get fishing. Gone was the calm demeanour of my last few sessions, today I just couldn't get to the water fast enough. I wanted to witness the mere waking up, the bird life, the dew on the grass, everything, the sense of clarity that it all provides is something that I need to soak up. 

All these things might sound rather fruitless to the "non angler", but for me, all these elements are vitally stitched into my journey. My fishing has three separate elements, 'the environment', 'the process' and 'the capture'. All three married together is what makes my carp angling so important too me, it's what motivates me to get out there and get stuck in, it's all about experiencing the finer points in life that are so often lost. It's taking the core elements of what fishing is about, and if you keep them at the forefront of your mind, your enthusiasm is always primed and the flame never seems to flicker. With this outlook, never once have I felt burnt out.     

Micklem's Awake

I pulled into Micklems carp park as the sun was rising, there was dew on the ground, the atmosphere felt so fresh, the bird life on the water, as usual, was extremely active. I took a few minutes to load the barrow and then made my way down to the waters edge, I had the whole place to myself. Taking a seat on one of the handy little wooden benches, I decide I'd sit and watch the water for a while. Just being by the mere at that time in the morning was special, the only souls for miles around were just me and Eric 'my dog'. To be honest, I was so content within the moment that I didn't feel the need to get the rods out at all.

I could feel by the sun on my face that it was going to be a really hot day, I decided to head up towards the back bay area, hoofing it round with the barrow, I started to feel energised, all of a sudden getting the rods out was of top priority, I was excited. Today I'd left the spod rod at home, I was going to focus solely on solid bags, I wanted to keep the fishing nice and clean with as little disturbance as possible. Arriving at the swim the wind was pushing nicely into the back margin, this was where I was going to put one of my rods. 

Micklem Back Bay

The 'make up' of the back bay is very interesting, you've got shallow margins that suddenly fall away to depths in excess of 10ft, there are a few spots that go even deeper. I've found that there are sporadic patches of weed in places, hence why I opt for solid bags, I can sit confident knowing that the bait is well presented.

Thinking back to my previous sessions, I always see fish show in and around this area at varying times of the day. My plan was to fish one bait just off the overhanging bushes that lined the back margin and the other, quarter of the way down the marginal slope, in my mind I'd have two different depths covered. In regards to rigs and presentation, as mentioned before, nothing was going to be changed other than the deduction of the spod.

Solid Bag Mix

My solid bag was made up of both Salmon Marine and Multi-mix pellets, added to this was some Hot Chilli Hemp method mix, porridge oats and a generous 'gulp' of Almond Oil. My hook bait was a single grain of imitation corn topped off with half a 10mil Pineapple Cream match boilie, this combo had pretty much produced all my fish so I decided I'd stick with it. This was going to be fished on a short 'trigga-link' combi, the lead I was using was a 2.5oz gripper, this was going to be setup 'semi-fixed'. As usual, there's nothing complicated, for me the most important aspect is where the baits were going to be placed, it's all about the right location. Images of my rig can be seen here Micklem Mere Part One

Before making the bags up I performed a few measured casts feeling carefully for 'the drops', I wanted a short drop on my margin rod and a slightly longer one on the rod that was to be fished on the slope. My margin rod was clipped up at 13.5 wraps, this put me perfectly under the tree-line, the 'slope' rod was clipped up at the same distance, theoretically I was fishing both bags in line with each other, the only difference between them was the depth they were fishing at. Both bags were tied as close to perfection as possible, each cast landed exactly where I wanted it to, I was happy and finally fishing.

A Neat Bite

A few hours passed and the heat started to kick in, Micklem has a tendency to become a sun trap, even with the brolly up, it's hard to find relief. I took both my shoes and socks off, rolled my trousers up and paddled in the shallow margins. I love doing this on really warm days, it brings back memories of when I use to visit my nanny and grandad down in Littlehampton when me and my sister were kids. 

We spent so many summer days in the sea paddling about, when the tide was out we'd run for what seemed like miles to get to the water, the beaches were empty in them days. I started to sense that I was on my own little sentimental trip this session, what with my memories of fishing Holts. When I think back it makes me feel like I've been on this earth a lot longer than 39 years.

View From The Swim

For the first few hours or so I was getting solid indications that fish were in the swim. Periodically I was getting liners on both rods but as of yet nothing translated into a bite. I was convinced something was going to occur so I just sat tight, I was only going to recast when and if I got a bite. A couple more hours melted away and the sun really started to beat down, I'd spotted a few carp showing towards the back of the bay. There were a number of shows all over the lake. The carp had obviously become active, from past experience, if you haven't had any early bites, chances are some action will occur mid to late afternoon.

Eric Seeking Some Shade

The day was steadily passing, I was still getting the odd knock on both rods, I was surprised that I hadn't managed to even pick up a few small carp yet. I toyed with the idea of a recast but I genuinely didn't see the point, I was confident in my approach, I just had to stick it out. For all I knew some carp had clocked the bait but weren't up for a feed just yet, my hopes were now pinned on late afternoon. To be honest it was such a lovely day, just being on the banks of the mere was a gift within itself, fish or no fish, it's all part of the process.

The day had evaporated, before I knew it, it was now approaching 3 o'clock, I felt the magic hour was a whisker away, the wind dropped, the temperature dropped and a few patchy clouds moved in over head, it suddenly felt pretty dam special. Now with the water like a sheet of glass I tried to clock signs of feeding fish. The binoculars came out and I started to scan around the bay, carefully looking for streams of bubbles, anything that gave me an indication that fish were in the vicinity. Towards the back of the bay I spotted a few patches, there looked to be more than one fish having a poke about.

This got my blood pumping, "surely they were going to come across my bait". I sat pinned to my chair, I found myself holding my breath, urging one of my rods to go racing off. A single bleep shifted my attention onto my left hand rod tip, the tip nudged and then, BAM!! it was away like a train. Lifting into the fish, it felt pretty powerful, this certainly wasn't one of the many scamps, this felt special. I was using my light rods so every pull and tug was translating through the blank directly into my soul, "I love players rods". There was no hurrying it, I grabbed the net and walked just above knee height into the water. I was now well and truly connected to both the carp and the mere.

It was slowly edging towards me but I had to be patient, it topped just a few yards out and I was met with a fleeting fleck of bright orange. I was somewhat stunned and for a split second I was wondering what the hell I'd caught. The shock subsided and I suddenly remembered that there had been whispers about a couple of 'koi' that had been spotted during spawning. If so, it was very clear that I had one of them literally yards from the net. The buzz had now turned from excitement into panic - "I had to get this fish in". I increased the pressure, slowly guiding her my way, inches turned to millimetres, just a little further, as the net engulfed her, the relief and the joy washed over me in equal measure.

Micklem Gold ... Literally 

It was obvious that I'd unearthed one very special jewel, I have no doubt that there are more surprise residing under the meres surface. I know I repeat myself but this is what angling's all about for me, it's the not knowing, uncertainty can be a beautiful thing. Amongst the many small fish you tend to catch, there's sure to be a few surprises amongst them. That's one of the reasons why I've decided to put serious time into the place. I look upon it as a journey of discovery and with each fish caught a little piece of the meres story falls into place.

With a few shots taken, I got back in the water to set her free, it was a pleasure to watch her slowly drift off back into the abyss. No time was wasted in getting another bag tied and back out, if fish had moved in and were now actively feeding, I wanted to cash in on it. With the bobbin now set I took a seat and got the binoculars back out, there seemed to be some signs of feeding in the deeper water, more towards the middle of the bay. I felt there was still a good chance of another fish, in the meantime I sat immersed in the memory of my previous capture, what an incredible carp.

The next bite came pretty quick, this time on my right rod, it all happened so fast, it made me jump. Leaning into the fish, it had already bolted clear of the bay and was heading out into the main body of the mere. Again, this was a powerful carp, it was rocketing along, I adjusted the clutch tighter to try and pacify its momentum. This failed, it just kept on going, it was at this point my mind started fragmenting my thoughts, could this be a secret monster? I was dying to find out. I was now in the water again with the net by my side, the fish had clearly 'blown its load', it was now just a case of gently guiding her my way. Soon enough a lump of common carp was resting in the mesh.

Another Surprise

This common was a proper brute, its huge mouth was full of living natural food. I doubt very much it had been caught before, I was so pleased, two good fish in a day from Micklem was a right result. It goes to show that I didn't need to be spodding bait out to pull the carp in. It also demonstrates that with perseverance comes rewards, I've be very determined about catching some of the better fish and I feel I'm finally 'breaking through'. 

After returning it I slowly packed up and made the long walk back to the car park, everything was calm, me and Eric were still the only souls around. Looking back over the water as the sun started to fade, it looked very different, all of a sudden the idea of hidden monsters was more than just a rumour, it appeared that they were very real, I was already looking forward to getting back down and giving it another go. Locking the gate behind me and preparing for the long drive home, I thanked the mere for providing me with another day to remember. 

Braxted Front Lake 'Carved In Oak'

I woke up from the most incredible angling dream, I can still remember it as if it were real. This has been something that has always interested me, some dreams we remember forever with amazing clarity, others are instantly erased shortly after waking. I hate to think how many carp are left swimming around through my 'neural pathways'. I think many carp anglers may suffer from this, maybe thats why we whittle away our days trying to make these dreams into a reality. 

I read a book by Robert Bruce called 'Astral Dynamics', and he explains his theory on this subject, we all have something called a "Shadow Memory", this functions when we sleep, it has the capability, shortly before waking, of "downloading" all that we've experienced during sleep into the physical\conscious brain. Simply put, the dreams that we remember have been fully downloaded into our conscious mind, all the ones we forget, which is usually a vast majority of them, basically had their "spiritual USB cable" removed before they could be fully downloaded. It makes perfect sense when you think about it, it's just like saving information from your computer onto an external hard drive, pull the cable out before its complete and then it's corrupt. 

You do find that you'll remember parts of your dreams for a few minutes, maybe you'll get the odd flash back, but they soon evaporate, lost in the mind forever. Moving this into an angling situation it's all very reminiscent of that 'possible' catch of a lifetime that ditches the hook at the last minute. You've seen it, felt it and very much lived the experience, only for it to evaporate in front of your eyes, you stand helpless watching as your dream drifts back into the murky depths. You wanted to hold it and touch it, but it just wasn't in your reach. Will we ever experience that feeling again? Some of us make sure they do by pursuing their dream constantly until it's been fulfilled, this can be a draining experience that can very easily turn into obsession.   

The Human Computer

In my dream I was on the banks of Braxted front lake, there was no wind, I don't recall there being any sky either, the landscape ended at the tree line. The water was crystal clear, I was watching a big long common carp feeding very cautiously tight in the margin, practically inches from where I was standing. Very slowly it was working its way over a small patch of silt, I watched as it was gently sucking and blowing, picking away very carefully at what it wanted to eat and ejecting the rest. It was so engaged, like a fine tuned machine.

The precision and care it took was so focused, as I stood watching, I started to wonder how the hell we ever manage to catch any carp at all. They're masters of their own environment, maybe it's just luck, or maybe they allow us to catch them, just to give us the impression that we have a fighting chance of understanding their inner workings. Before I even got close to answering these questions and trying to catch the fish, I woke up. You can imagine how happy I was when I opened my eyes to the real world and had a trip up to Braxted planned.

So, with my dream at the forefront of my mind, I got up, threw breakfast down my neck, inhaled a couple of coffees and then set sail on my usual journey up the A12. It was cloudy, warm and drizzling heavily, perfect for a bite. Having taken a break from fishing the place for a while I had a new found enthusiasm, that's the advantage of fishing a number of lakes at the same time. With every water that I visit, my perspective is continually changing and my enthusiasm is always primed.  

The journey flew by in no time and before I knew it I was pulling into the car park, peering through the trees, front lake looked rather sombre in its mood. The complex was quiet with only a few anglers pitched up on back lake, the rain was relentless. I decided to take it on the chin and walk very slowly around the perimeter of the water. The wind was pushing down towards the car park end, after a short while procrastinating I opted to fish on the front of the wind just a few meters up from the car park. I've always done well from this section of water and to be fair, the far end up by the buoy looked completely dead. The only thing that was missing was a tumble weed.  

For those of you who may not of read my previous Braxted blogs, the conditions today were perfect. The lake tends to go into limbo when it's hot, it seems to pull the fish into the upper layers. I have tried both zigs and surface fishing on these occasions but I'm yet to get a result. I do find though, that if the day has been especially warm, it always looks pretty good for a bite from 4pm onwards. But I would rather fish when I know the conditions are right, rain, wind, snow, Tsunami, if the fish are feeding I will make sure I'm on the bank, none of it bothers me. Some of my fondest angling memories have been when I've been perched under my brolly holding on for dear life as nature, once again demonstrates, that she is fully in charge of our planet.

First Things First

I really wanted to "get it right" today, setting my brolly up and getting my brew kit out, I sat back for another caffeine fix and started to think. Coffee is like engine oil for me, it gets my neural transmitters firing on all cylinders, it's amazing what comes to mind when a 'caffeine high' kicks in. I hatched a plan a few weeks back on how I wanted to fish this session. I know I can get bites on single hook baits and mouthfuls, this time around I wanted to try something different. I was going to fish solid bags with bottom baits on short hook-links.

I didn't want anything blatant though, nothing that stood out like a sore thumb. I was going to compact the bags with really fine boilie crumb, I wanted the bait to blend in with the colour of the lake bed as much as possible. There are three baits that I use that would fit perfectly, Coconut Fish, Pineapple CSL and Halibut & Coconut, I opted for the Pineapple CSL. This is a bait that I've always felt confident in, but since the "Chase Lakes" era, it had fallen by the wayside for me. I'd never tried it on front lake before so I was looking forward to seeing if a few of the majestic commons that were hidden below the surface, maybe inches away from where I was standing, were going to be up for something new. 

Pineapple CSL

Sitting under the brolly looking out at the water, I went through my usual visualisation process. To my left I had a tree lined margin that slowly dropped down to 10ft, opposite I had a lovely deep run that leads to a quiet sheltered corner. There were enough 'fish holding' features in front of me, I knew that there was a high chance of a few carp visiting them at some stage during the day. The rain eased up so I used the opportunity to get set up, there's nothing worse than trying to work with solid bags when it's raining.

As explained before, I was planning to grind the boilies down into very small fragments and compact them into the solid bag as tight as possible. I opted to use small sized bags, in theory I was still fishing a 'mouthful' but there was a hell of a lot more attraction. The only solid item in the bag would be my hook-bait which I'd decided to cut right down. Taking the outer skin off made it blend into the crumb perfectly.

Grind Them Up

I was using a short 'trigga-link' combi fished as a 'blow-back' with a 1.5oz ball lead. In my eyes, this was a really tidy looking setup that would conceal itself perfectly within the bag. Because I was using a light lead I was going to fish my clutch tight on the take. This would help to pull the hook home as the carp bolts off, again, nothing was complicated, there's just a few minor touches that help to make it all work accordingly.

A Short Combi Rig & Cut Down Bait

I made a measured cast on both rods, I had a few chucks until I got the "drop" I wanted and then clipped up. On the left hand rod I was feeling for a fairly short drop. I wanted to be half way down the slope, on my right hand rod I wanted the drop to be slightly longer, the marginal shelf is really steep and I wanted to place my bait towards the bottom. Taking into consideration how many carp I've had from this area, I was convinced that it was a regular patrol route, if fish are about I find any bait put there tends to get picked up.

Ready For The Cast

It slowly started spitting with rain again so with two delicately feathered casts, both rods were out and I was confident. Settling in for 'the big wait' I felt quietly optimistic, it felt great being back on front lake again and I was pleased to be fishing it in a slightly different way. Many of you have probably gathered by now that I like to mix things up, I'd rather have a series of different options on all the waters that I fish, rather than be locked into one way of doing things. As mentioned in my last blog, if I settle for "one size fits all" I really don't feel like I'm fishing well. 

View From The Swim

As I sat looking out over the water, I started to think about life, it's a dangerous topic that I tend to find myself milling over an awful lot. Times are changing fast, technology is slowly embedding itself into everything around us. Is it possible to live a life offline anymore?. We now have a tool at the tips of our fingers that provides a platform to practically live and create an alternate reality. I can't help thinking that in years to come this is going to prove to be a real problem, it already is. 

The internet in its many forms can be a useful tool, especially if you use it for what it was originally designed for, which is 'information'. I feel the problems occur when you try to use it to compensate for all the aspects of your life that you don't have 'offline'. You can't live an existence that you're unable to touch or physically/spiritually feel, you can't feel love staring at a JPEG of someone you've never met. The worrying thing though, in the wrong hands the internet and social media can be a weapon, love might not translate from your online activity but hate does. The amount of hate I've witnessed online is not only disgraceful but a problem that continues to multiply, hence why I now limit my internet usage.

  
I might sound like a hypocrite with what I'm saying, the fact that I'm using technology right now, as you read these words. But the one thing I promised myself when I started this blog, was, it's going to be real, direct from the heart, and I hope through the masses of wires and microchips that able me to be on your computer screen this very second, it translates in a way that communicates with you. That's what it's all about for me, life is a series of connections, be it physical or emotional, we grow as humans by connecting and trying to understanding the world that's around us, the only reality is your own, in the here and the now.

Back To The Session

Having now tied myself in emotional knots, I was pulled back down to earth instantly. My right hand rod raced off, the bite alarm was screaming and the spool was rotating at a crazy speed. Grabbing the rod and leaning into the fish, the front drag clicked in and proceeded to sing. The fish was a dead weight and I had to let it blow its load on its initial run before even attempting to put the brakes on, its power was somewhat overwhelming on my light rods. The adrenalin gave me a serious head rush and my legs were shaking, any take I get from front lake seems to have this effect on me. I think it's because most of the carp that inhabit it are real lumps.

A few minutes in I started to gain some control of the situation, I kept the pressure on and adjusted the clutch accordingly, the tip action in my rod was cushioning the carps lunges. I could feel every movement, it was amazing, very slowly the fish started to tire and as it came close I witnessed the back of a very large common, it looked special. I kept the net out of sight and very patiently waited, 'whilst holding on for dear life', for the fish to drift on its side. She soon did and I gently eased the net under her ... result!

 Carved In Oak

When I witnessed this fish I was lost for words, sometimes silence says it all, its coloration was reminiscent of polished oak and its proportions were perfect. Even better still, because my rods are so forgiving there wasn't any evidence of the carp having been hooked. For me that's what proper angling is about, we seek to catch these amazing creatures, we witness them, hold them and it's our job to take care of them whilst they're in our presence. The closer to 'untouched' that they stay, shows we've done our job well.

On returning the fish to the water, I took a few moments to take it all in, slowly collecting my thoughts I dunked my rig and lead in a bag of ground-bait, I find this soaks up any water. It's a real pain when you're just finishing tying a solid bag and it starts to melt because the end tackle is still wet. Clipping the rod back up I cast the bag out hitting pretty much the same spot. The bite had come pretty quick so I was hopeful of another fish, I didn't want to get greedy though. The carp I just caught was more than enough, anything else was a bonus.

Settling back under my brolly, the rain started again, it was chucking it down. My swim was becoming severely water logged, I was on a sinking ship and everything was starting to get engulfed in clay. My feet weighed at least two pounds more than when I arrived because everything was sticking to them like glue. Undeterred, I put the kettle on and sat back to welcome the wait. 

Clay Feet

Hours started to pass and as morning bled into afternoon I started to pin my hope on a bite later on in the day. I was confident in my rig placement so I continued to sit and watch the water. Even though all remained quiet I was really confident, the wind had now dropped and the atmosphere around the lake had become so still, I felt like I was sitting in a watercolor painting. Time continued and before I knew it 4 o'clock had come and gone. It was around 6pm when I got a single bleep off my left hand rod, all my attention was now firmly on the rod tip. A few seconds later it gave off another bleep, I witnessed the tip nudge round slightly. 

Within moments the rod was away, it was a proper heavy take, both the clutch and alarm sung in unison, it was strangely poetic. As I lent into the fish it took a major u-turn and headed straight towards me. I was reeling like a madman trying to pick up the slack, eventually I did and the rod bowed over, I was "in the game", the carbon creaked, the clutch was ticking and once again my bloody legs were shaking. The fish came in close and circled continuously making use of the deep margins. I couldn't do a great deal with it so I just let it tire itself out, after a fine battle a perfect looking common revealed itself from the murk, in the net she went. Looking closely I'd had this fish before, I was more than pleased to meet her again.

An Old Friend

As expected, the fish was perfect and yet another example of why I make the journey up to fish these waters. After a few shots I slipped her home, maybe I'd meet her again at some point in the future, time will tell. I thought I'd get the rod back out for the last hour or so, it appeared luck was on my side. Clipping up and casting back out, I slowly started to pack away all none essentials, it had been a great session. I was pretty tired, wet and caked in clay but it was all worth it. The remaining hour passed with no action, reeling the rods in and packing my kit on to the barrow, I thanked front lake for, once again, being good to me, I can't wait to get back on its banks.