Thank you for sending over this account & photos Colonel, much appreciated & home bakes delicous!.
16th
June 2015 The Colonel’s First ‘Glorious 16th’ in a Long, Long Time
It’s been a very, very long time since I fished ‘the first
day’ of the New season, and I know exactly how that aversion came to be. Back
in the early 80’s, yes, really 35 years ago, I was a committed ‘Specimen
Hunter’, having formed a Specimen Group of like minded anglers in my local
area. We were privileged to be very near a now famed Cemex gravel pits complex.
In those days I was also a father of six (and still am, of course), so did not
have the time available for serious Carp fishing; I therefore concentrated on
the Tench and Roach, which grew to specimen size in these lakes. I’d previously
observed a good number of decent Tench in one of the lesser fished lakes and
set about a baiting campaign in a hidden swim with difficult access. Long story
short, when I arrived on 16th June, late, due to family responsibilities,
I found my pre-baited swim occupied by two other anglers, both members of my
Group. They’d already grassed a 7 pounder and were intending to stay put for
some time to reap the rewards of my not inconsiderable efforts ……….. gentlemen
anglers they were not, and the taste in my mouth was of the nasty kind. Hence
my aversion to wetting a line on ‘the glorious 16th’.
Paul’s kind offer to allow me to cast a line at Lonsdale,
2015 might present the ideal opportunity to confine those memories to the
dustbin of history. With a slight feeling of apprehension still nestling in the
pit of my stomach, I took the familiar journey to Lonsdale Park with Paul’s
battling Roach in mind and, most appropriately, a newly restored Chapmans ‘Fred
J Taylor Roach’ rod to christen. Of course, Merlin was with me just in case
some heavier ‘magic’ was needed.
There being no-one about, I left a couple of jars of my
Gaffer’s Three Fruit marmalade on the kitchen table to accompany my home-baked
fruit loaf which I know full well tickle my hosts’ palettes, then stealthily
approached the lake. It was oily smooth and the air was muggy, in need of a
good thunderstorm ……… hopefully not today, though, as I’d not packed a brolly
!!!! As always, I launched a goodly handful of squeezed bread mash a rod length
out, to ‘stir ‘em up’. Three or four pieces of crust hadn’t succumbed to the
liquidiser the day before and refused to sink with the rest of the white cloud,
stubborn to the last. Served ‘em right, when an apparition appeared, greedily
sucking them down. ‘Mmmmmm’, I thought, ‘I reckon Merlin may need to cast his
spell…….along with a fresh piece of crust, impaled upon my trusty, sharp steel.’
First cast, the crust was ferociously attacked almost at my
feet. They were that close in the margin. Second one, just a vicious, knocked
the crust off the hook, giving the fortunate assailant a free meal. Third time,
lucky !!!! Merlin didn’t need a strike. He arched over, the hook well and truly
set and the game was afoot. The Carp was the smallest of the gang, but I was
relieved, as the strongest line I had with me was 4lb BS on my baby Mitch 408.
Consequently, the little critter led me a merry dance. I did enjoy the tussle
immensely in this lovely pool that is devoid of any nasty snags, to my
knowledge. As long as sufficient side strain can dissuade a trip to the
marginal vegetation, the day is generally won with patience and a strong wrist.
So it was this day. My net was wet, Merlin and I were happy. With the swim well
and truly ‘stirred up’, I could assemble ‘Fred J’ at my leisure.
I love ‘The Lift Method’. There’s something mystical,
surreal, about a float rising up, Excalibur like, above the pool’s mirrored
surface, when you consider it’s normal bite indication is a disappearance
downwards, into the depths and out of site. Employing it this day was
particularly poignant to me; using a technique promoted by my childhood angling
hero, Fred J Taylor, in conjunction with the rod bearing his name. A delightful
symmetry, I felt. Although a method primarily with Tench in mind, it also works
admirably for other species prepared to pick a bait up from the bottom and,
especially with Roach, as it gets the baited hook quickly past the ‘little
‘uns’, to the lake bed where the likelihood of bigger fish is greater. However,
my faith was severely tested when I hooked small bream after small bream when I
believed I should have been catching big Roach after big Roach.
A change over to Merlin and a running leger with golden
grains as hookbait brought a little improvement in my luck. Chub, not Roach,
graced my net now. They gave me a good scrap at around 2lbs a piece and half a
dozen in number, but they were not the roach I so wanted. Back to the ‘FJT’
rod, the float and the FJT Lift it was, but this time corn on a gilt hook, to
see if I could fool them.
Izaak smiled upon me that afternoon, and it worked!!!! The
big Roach moved in, finding the corn to their liking. The float never remained
stationary for over long. Slow lifts mainly, with the occasional instant
disappearance without notice, just to keep me on my toes. They were all around
the same size, comfortably over the pound and in pristine condition. I even had
the heart stopping moment of knowing I’d got myself another ‘two’, when I saw a
giant Roach hooked well and tussling hard a rod length or so away, with ‘FJT’
well bent; then the deceitful creature morphed itself into a Roach/Bream
amalgamation weighing 2lbs and 2ozs ……… why do they do that to us? It did scrap
darned hard though and was still kicking like the devil in the landing net.
All too soon the smaller Roach wised up, realised where the
food was and moved in, by which time I guess I’d winkled out a lot of their big
brothers anyway. Best to quit while I was winning. Time to head homeward. I’d
achieved all I’d wanted and more but, most importantly, a ghost from my past
had been exorcised.