A Specialist Anglers Diary: Estate lake tench

Saturday the 3rd of May

Well the forecast was far from encouraging and neither were the catch reports of the other lads who had fished midweek but I wasn't going to go another week without a days angling and so the alarm was set and I headed off to my tench water not long after 6am. You certainly couldn't say that it was warm but the air was still as I loaded the van before setting off down the back lanes and there iss a certain pleasantness about being the only soul on the road in the half light that most folk never experience. I'm not a superstitious person but I do always take notice of magpies on the way to the lake, none of that saluting business I just like to count them, one for sorrow, two for joy and all that business. Well on rounding a bend there on the verge sat a pair of the pied crows, not a bad omen I thought, and then better still number three popped up over the hedge, three for a girl, one big fat lady tench heading my way maybe? And then a couple of minutes later a single magpie crossed in front of me, follwed a few hundred yards later by another lone bird, was it pushing my luck to call them a brace?And does one, or even two single magpies cancel out a previously seen pair, or triplet?

I drove through the gateway into the estate and an empty lake unfurled in front of me, lovely. With the pick of the water I decided to head round to the far bank in amongst the woodland, last spring the spot had become a favourite of mine due to snag laden island margin out in front but in their wisdom the estate had taken the chainsaw in hand and the tree's from the water leaving a seemingly bare far margin which is infact now festooned with underwater debris left from the works. With that in mind my chosen area was out in open water and after clipping a rod up to range I set to in marking the other rod to the same range by walking the line out along the track behind me. I propped the rod up against a spindly tree while I marked the correct distance and then trampled my way back through the undergrowth to retrieve it. I paused and took a good look around but couldn't quite make out which tree I had leant it against, it couldn't be far away though. I walked a bit further and still no sign of a rod, a bit further on and I momentarily felt my legs connect with a obstruction which responded with a crack that instantly told me that I wasn't going to like what I saw. There wrapped around my two left feet was some line, attached to eighteen inches of carbon, and then another ten and a half feet of carbon, oh dear I muttered, as you can of course imagine.

I count myself fortunate that in times of trouble I do tend to keep relatively calm, this is probably quite a good thing as that was in fact the third rod that I had destroyed in six months, though it has to be said that only this one was due to obvious stupidity on the part of yours truly. After a minute or so of gawping at my newly aquired swingtip I came to the conclusion that it was indeed broken and that I was going to have to go and pick up a replacement from home which fortunately wasn't too distant. All of the recently assembled kit was packed away and off I trudged in in the direction of the van, though being a clever so and so I decided that I would take the back way this time to save paddling through the quagmire that the lakeside path had become, except that half way along I discovered that the new route was actually ten times worse due to a tractor churning through and I had to tip toe my way past great trenches of water, resorting to scaling a bramble covered bank at one stage. Back on the road again and out into the countryside I tootled along thinking that I had done well to remain calm and collected and that karma would pay me back when I saw him, all alone and proud as punch, and this time I did salute Mr magpie, with two fingers!

By the time I finally got back into position, with the rods marked up safely this time, it was nine am, so much for an early start. The wind picked up gradually and up went the shelter, before much longer on went the thermal jacket and after another brief period where I tried in vain to convince myself that they weren't needed on went the thermal trousers too, what a lousy spring it has been weather wise, it's no wonder that the fishing has been so poor.

Camera's don't feel wind chill

Both rods were armed with the trusty maggot feeders and were topped up lightly with a scattering of partiblend mixed with groundbait via the mini spomb. As much as I love the spomb it isn't really ideal for a stodgy mix like that, a small amount of bait trapped between the fins on loading causes problems and in hindsight I should have realised that and packed a small pocket rocket instead, you live and learn.

Excellent for the right type of baiting

Kit to catch monkeys with!

The right hand rod showed a very stuttery drop back bite mid morning, most un-typical of these tench, bream like in fact, but it was a tench alright although it wasn't a specimen by any description, size or looks wise, a blotchy 4lber in fact, but it was a fish. I persevered in the swim until gone 2pm and decided that a move was in order for the last few hours but that didn't improve matters, the only bites I encountered were from the now famous scruffy blackbird who's cheek has to be seen to be believed. He thinks nothing of diving into the bait tub right next to you and at one stage actually flipped the loose lid off to get at the wrigglers inside. When the rain started to come down I retreated back under the brolly taking the bait with me and even then she followed me, but it provides some entertainment and nothing else was very interested so I let her help herself.