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| a chunky one nearing the net |
What a great season it’s been
for big tench this year, in spite of what seemed to be a cold and dodgy spring
… and as for our ‘summer’ … best not to mention that at all. We all want to catch a
ten pounder don’t we and I’m no exception but any tench is a good one in my
view because they are such beautiful fish.
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| Martin with a ten plusser from Kent |
I’ve seen many big ‘uns, especially while
filming for ‘Catching the Impossible’, Martin Bowler and Terry Lampard catching several at
Mid-Kent Fisheries and awesome they look too. I’ve been lucky enough to catch
ones of 8/9 from five different waters so felt it was time I tried to up my PB
and even catch a double. Trouble is, not only did I respect the old closed
season, we also have a large garden and spring is a busy time out there.
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| view from the office window - nice! |
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| the wild flower meadow is a wildlife magnet |
Added to those obstacles to
success is my preference for float fishing and it’s clear from the angling
press that the way to bag a double is to bolt-rig maggots behind bite alarms.
Not quite my bag. However, nothing ventured, nothing gained, so I sought access
to the Cotswold Water Park’s Bradleys Lake and was granted the privilege of a
Spring Ticket.
My long time friend, Mark
Woodage fished it last year with good results, my mate Martin Bowler too, so
thought that with luck I might at least up my PB and even catch a double, for
most years Bradleys has produced one or two tench of my dreams.
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| Mark waiting for action ... for weeks this year |
It’s a beautiful lake, all
120 acres of it and though some might be daunted when faced by this open ocean,
I love the challenge of fishing into the unknown. What’s more, the place is
jumping with wildlife, the water dancing with insect life and the skies filled
with birds. On one memorable day this spring a thousand sand martins and
hundreds of swallows were hawking over the waves to replenish their fuel
reserved burnt off during the long journey from Africa.
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| so many sand martins the huge expanse of water was covered with them |
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| ... just say agh ... |
There are ducks galore and
the trees and bushes bounce to the songs of returning warblers that have
survived their perilous flights from south of the Sahara. Terns from even
further away dive for small fish, great crested grebes too, so even when the buzzers stay silent,
blanking is a delight!
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| the grebes certainly caught a lot more than us |
My first visit in late April
coincided with one of Mark’s early attempts … he’d blanked on the previous two
… but I felt a need to start putting some effort in and try learning a little
about the place and it’s fish life if I was to earn my stripes … and catch a
tench. We arrived in time to plumb our swims and bait up before dark and though
we saw no rolling tench, we were optimistic that next days sunshine would
encourage them to feed.
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| I think I was warmer in the Arctic with the ice bears |
I slept in my old VW nearby
but by 2am I was so cold I had to get up, put pullovers and coat on, light the
gas, drink tea and read a book. I hadn’t been so cold since filming polar bears
and wished I’d packed my arctic sleeping bag. The only consolation was a
nightingale that serenaded me all night from just outside the window.
Delightful.
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| Mark in Arctic mode - by 'eck it was cold |
Dawn came as a blessed relief
but when I reached my gear at the swim and lifted the covering tarp, the shards
of ice splintering off convinced me that even grayling would be difficult to
catch on such a day. However, Mark and I soldiered on, sustained by numerous
cups of tea, coffee and sausage sarnies. We blanked of course, not even a liner
raising our hopes … but the wildlife and banter ensured it was an enjoyable
day.
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| these naughty red-crested pochard were forever diving on my ground-baited spot |
I didn’t return for three
weeks but Mark fished at least one day each week and in the end he did actually
catch a tench! Now if you’re thinking he’s a plonker, think again. He’s a
really tidy and skilful ex. match angler and does know how to catch Bradley’s
tench, so I guess his excuse would be that a large deep lake during a cold
Spring fails to warm up like the shallower waters that were producing all the
doubles. What’s more, carp anglers were bait-boating their bolt-rigs and feed
out unbelievable distances, 150yds. or more, so I guess the tench had no need
to venture nearer the edge and in range of our feeders to fatten up for
spawning.
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| there was otter spraint on those rocks by my swim |
I’d decided on a two day
mission, picked my spot next to Mark and waited for a bite … and waited some
more. I had the occasional hint that there were actually fish in the
lake but maybe they were crayfish tugging at my baits?
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| a perfect fat lady for Mark ... but will the singing even start |
In the meantime, Mark caught
a chunky female tench of 5/14 so despite the fact that I am a plonker, I
was confident of some action, especially when I was told it was this very swim
where my pal Martin Salter had caught a beast of a tench only two weeks before. At
9/4 it was an impressive fish.
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| what an awesome beast - the tench is quite chunky too! |
Failing to raise a smile, let
alone a bite, I packed up at 20.30 for a bite of my own and a celebration of
the joys of fishing with Mark and his pal Matt. We empted various bottles in
the old VW and it was just like the days when making “A Passion for Angling”
with Bob and Chris, lots of banter, laughter and as good a fishing night as you
could ever wish for.
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| location caterers for both A Passion for Angling and Catching the Impossible |
Bought in 1989 as a location base for our filming, the
campervan is held together with rust now but still serves me well. It's been my escape
hatch from the world for twenty five years … and long may it continue!
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| my escape hatch from the world, hidden in some far off corner surrounded by wildlife and wild skies |
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| the black swan was lonely so fell in love with his white cousin |
We were up at 04.30 on a cool
morning, the water temp. having dropped over-night from 58f to 54f and the only rolling tench about
200yds. out into the ocean. I fiddled endlessly with my rigs and baits as did
Mark and it was he who caught a tench after a thirst quenching lunch, a fat female
of 6/6. Then after a tea break he caught a lovely looking male of 5/14.
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| a muscular beauty ... no, you'll be relieved I won't repeat that gag |
I was still fishless and
biteless … I told you I was a plonker … but not for long as at 18.30 my bobbin
rose sharply and held there and upon raising the rod I felt that very
unfamiliar sensation of a fish on the end.
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| praying the hook won't pull at this critical moment |
After a suitable length of time praying for it
not to come off it was in the net, my first Bradleys tench and a cracker to
boot, all 8/2 of immaculate female.
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| a 'proper' tench of 8/2 and a good 'un to start my tally at Bradleys |
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| back the beauty goes |
It was tricked by two fake
casters and a speck of plastic corn and I was just a bit pleased that I’d
fiddled around to achieve the right amount of buoyancy to create a balanced
bait. Childs play to a seasoned campaigner but a new challenge for a roach
angler like me. I tried for another but retired to the van at 21.00 for a snack
while listening to the dulcet tones of a nightingale close by.
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| despite dramatic declines, this is still a star bird in the Cotswold Water Park |
It was still singing next
morning, along with a persistent cuckoo but the most surprising wildlife was a
large hatch of mayfly.
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| a tasty meal for birds as well as fish |
We all associate them with shallow chalk streams but
here they were, rising in dozens from a deep gravel pit. The swans, ducks and terns were
delighted by this feast of tasty morsels.
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| always on the scrounge |
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| Gerry, Bob the catcher and John over acting! |
Other old friends arrived to
fish and a great bunch they all are too, but Bob was the only one to catch … so
the lake was well below par compared to the previous year. Mark only managed 4
tench this year when during the same period last year he caught 38 to a best of
8/10. I told you he was good!
I was fishless on my final
day and by 19.00 I was home, having spent 39 hours waiting for one bite … but what a tench I’d had the privilege
of catching … and what a lovely place to blank! As Arnie says “I’ll be back”.
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| a windy evening sky taken through my Polaroids |
