Angling from the start - take kids fishing

Saturday the 2^nd of June

I have been promising to take my two nephews, Will and Tom, fishing for a few years now though in all honesty they are probably only now at the stage where it would be worthwhile, meaning they might be able to sit still for more than five minutes without running riot! At a recent family bash I promised their dad Paul that this year we would actually do it and a date was arranged to spend a few hours down on the canal, though as the date approached I thought better of that plan, with it being the jubilee bank holiday weekend the canal was going to be busy and the extra boat traffic would create problems. After a bit of thought and advice from some mates I settled on a small farm pond which although local to me I had actually never set eyes on, but I was assured that it was stuffed with small fish and that was exactly what I wanted, a day struggling for bites would lead to boredom and I wanted to give the lads a day to remember.

We arrived at the crack of 10.30 and on peering over the five bar gate at the water my heart sank, the pond was tiny and full of weed, the one or two swims on it were quite steep and I had visions of wet feet, or worse. But after we made our way on to the banks we could see another piece of water glinting through the trees and on making our way towards it things started to look a bit more promising. It turned out that there were actually two ponds and the second was much more appealing for a beginner, not much weed bar a few small sets of pads, a couple of small islands, and a reasonable amount of flat bank to work with, all we needed now was some fish.

My initial plan when the intended venue was the canal was to set the lads up with a short whip each, the thinking being that taking the reel out of the equation would simplify things and eliminate one source of tangles, I well remember when my Dad used to take us fishing when we were young, I don't think he spent much time fishing himself and he certainly spent an awful lot of time un-picking tangles that we constantly got into. The problem was that the pond contains carp and hooking one of those on the whip would be entertaining for all of two seconds, so I dug out my trusty Drennan waggler rod along with my Daiwa Whisker whilst saying saying several prayers that they would return home intact. Both are cracking rods, true classics that would be difficult to replace nowadays but I don't own anything else that would do the job while still being light enough for a kid to use. My first proper rod was an Abu glass fibre float rod that I could just about get my fingers around the butt off and which weighed a ton, this pair didn't know how lucky they were, I just hoped that they didn't trample my prized carbon.

I set up the first rod with a 5bb insert waggler and swung it out with a swan shot clipped to the hook to plumb the depth, less than four feet, float adjusted and out it went again, less than three feet, hmm, adjusted again until I found it was two feet at the most, blimey that was a shocker. I wandered around to several other swims and found exactly the same so we stayed put though I must admit that did my confidence no good at all. I passed that rod over to Paul while I set up the other rig, this one with a float more suitable for the now established depth, and was relieved to hear a shout go up almost immediately as a small roach was swung in, phew, pressure off then.

First one for Will

Tom gets in on the act

Double trouble!

Myself and Paul then looked after one of the lads apiece with them swapping over now and then, usually when it seemed that the other swim was producing more fish! A steady number of fish came our way, mostly roach and rudd with some lovely fish pushing 8oz's, plenty of sticklebacks that kept pinching the bait before the proper fish got a look in, a couple of gudgeon, the first I've seen for a long while, a couple of skimmers, several small crucians and the specimen of the day was a small common carp caught by Paul who funnily enough seemed to be holding the rod quite often himself!

Dad gets in on the action

Tangles were also a regular feature of the day I must admit, though I should also admit to causing some myself. I found the hardest thing was to try and get the boys to strike with the correct amount of power, it was often either too feeble or else the float shot out of the water and ended up on the bank, usually signalling yet another tangle! That was something else I remembered from when I first started fishing, one particular memory that stands out is of me looking up at a tree behind me to see a small roach swinging from the branches after an over enthusiastic strike.

One happy lad

Starting to look quite proffesional

Tom caught himself a carp

The lads did really well, we had thought that two or three hours would be enough and that they would lose interest but in fact we ended up fishing for almost five hours and I'm sure that there wouldn't have been many complaints had we stopped for longer. There was the odd bit of compeitiveness as you would expect and a few minutes of disillusionment now and then, soon cured when the next fish arrived, but all in all it was just pure fun fishing. No doubt about it us adults had a cracking day too, I really enjoyed introducing the lads to the sport and will certainly take them again, I get the impression that it might be sooner rather than later as apparently they had a "wicked day uncle Rob"!

Linch Hill - Willow pool, roach heaven

Wednesday the 7^th to Friday the 9^th of March

I arrived back at Willow at 3pm on Wednesday afternoon and with the swim I fished last week free it would have been very rude not to have taken advantage, to be honest from what I saw on my last session the fish are now very active and I've seen them across quite a broad area of the lake but I know this spot well, the rods were still clipped up and they were out fishing within no time at all. A mate had picked me up one of the new mini spombs earlier in the week and I used that to put five loads of maggots out over the rods, in well over ten feet of water they would have spread nicely and given a different effect to just using the feeders. When I fist saw them advertised I imagined that they wouldn't be quite as small as they are and I was very pleasantly surprised, what an excellent bit of kit for my style of fishing, I can see that getting used a lot this year its absolutely perfect for baiting over the tench rods amongst other things.

With dusk approaching fast I got the cooker fired up for another boil in the bag curry, I'm not sure how widely available these meals are but I picked them up in Asda a few weeks ago and they are the business if you like a bit of authentic Indian grub, in fact they are made in Mumbai!. They come in a box containing a foil packet, five minutes at a good boil and your ready to go and the foil keeps it warm for a good while so you can knock up a feast, biryani ready and waiting while the paneer in sauce was cooking. The water had crept up to the boil but the gas was obviously running low and I was just considering changing it when the right hand rod started to do its thing and I was into a fish. Just as it was approaching the net but still a touch feisty the middle rod absolutely screamed off, I'd seen that the one I was playing wasn't huge and quickly bundled it into the net before picking up the other rod. This fish started fighting a bit further out and I was starting to suss out that the rudd seem to fight more than the roach in general which rang true this time and after a protracted, splashy, fight under the rod I scooped the big carp net under a bar of gold bullion shining up at me in the torch light. I secured that net on a bankstick and quickly recast both rods before dealing with number one, a rudd of 1lb 8oz which I slipped back. The second fish was something else, at 2lb 12oz's it broke my pb of last week by an ounce and truly was the most incredible looking thing, I'm not sure that pictures will do it justice.

The pan certainly wasn't looking any nearer to boiling properly so I turned it off and switched gas canisters before firing it up, it was just hitting the right temperature when I was jumping up to bend into another screamer of a take. The fish came in easily before starting to plod about on the marginal shelf and then rolling in the torch beam showing that it was a big lump of a roach, in the net she went and this was something special, it almost seems silly to say that, I've had a week of somethings special. A perfectly formed roach as fat as butter lay on the mat, slipping her into the sling I knew that it was well over 3lb's and the scales made it 6oz's over, mindblowing stuff indeed, two pb's in the space of half an hour or so, I was quite simply blown away, I just didn't know what to do with myself.

I'd turned the stove off while I dealt with the pictures and it was just back up to the boil when I was into another rudd, again of about 1lb 8oz's, followed by his twin not long after, I finally got to eat sometime shortly before 9pm when the action stopped. With my nine days of enforced abstinence now thankfully over I sat back in my chair and cracked open a much needed beer, absolute nectar! The night air was cooling fast and the unhooking mat was covered in a sheen of glitter, the stars shone brightly and a great big moon smiled down as I reflected on what had just happened, it was just too much to comprehend, my mind tumbled with a million thoughts, almost too much to bear.

Thursday morning started with sunshine and became a glorious day with only the odd wisp of thin cloud in sight, the birds were singing and Thomo was a happy man. Going on the results so far I was not really expecting action during daylight hours but I carried on working the feeders and thought that perhaps I should cook a bit earlier that evening. It really was a lovely day to just lounge about next to the water I had no complaints at all about being left in peace by the fish, I read a bit, listened to the radio and just kicked back.

Mike Townsend arrived mid afternoon and after a natter went round to my right to set up for the night. The carp had been active all day and I had heard some commotion in the far corner which I thought was more carp until Mike shouted over that it was an otter, in broad daylight obviously with no fear of us whatsoever, where will it end?

Just as dusk's curtain fell I was into a lively fish and as I predicted another rudd, in general the roach have fought much less energetically, another "pea in the pod" job at a pound and a half, a lovely fish nevertheless but the past weeks events had made it look tiny. I sat behind the rods with great expectations but it just didn't happen, that was the last indication I had, the odd fish rolled in front of me but not in the numbers that I had heard on previous nights.

Five am saw me packing away ready for the long drag up the motorway, Mike had blanked through the night too and was moving around to my bank to try his luck, I wished him the best of luck and was on my way. By seven thirty I was ninety miles away making a brew in the kitchen and by nine I was at work, a tough routine but the only way that I could string two nights together, as it turned out the second night didn't pay off but it could just as easily have turned out differently.

Linch Hill roach - The stuff dreams are made of

Friday the 2nd of March to Sunday the 4th

Back to the saga of the Willow roach, if you missed my earlier sessions here they are

Linch Hill roach fishing part 1
Linch Hill roach fishing part 2
Linch Hill roach fishing part 3

Well if I wasn't feeling knackered on Wednesday night I certainly was on Thursday, a hard day digging out shrubbery following the early start had left me feeling a wreck. At the start of the week my plan had been to go down to Willow first thing on Thursday and stop until Saturday but work meant that the trip had to be delayed by 24 hours, as I sat on the sofa on Thursday night I really did consider not going at all I felt so shattered, a far too early alarm call again the next day wouldn't help things at all. But as is usually the way with my fishing I went into mission mode, got everything ready and loaded and told myself to get a grip. And then the wife asked me if the central heating should be on as the radiators were cold, oh no. I checked the thermostat, that was ok, checked the pilot light and nothing, tried relighting it and it held a low flame before going out, that was all I needed, The mrs said not to bother she'd manage without but it was on my mind by this stage and bothering me, perhaps I should just cancel the trip. I tried the pilot again every few minutes but still no joy, sat on the sofa with my mind racing a thought occured to me, I keep some tackle under the stairs in the same cupboard as the gas meter, I'd only gone and caught the lever with my rucksack and turned the supply off!

I picked my mobile up to check the time first at 2.17am, oh, got back off to sleep and picked up the phone again at 4.20am, ten minutes before the alarm was due, how does that happen so often? I shoved the phone under the duvet to dull the ringing and hopefully not wake the wife while I dozed until the dreaded noise started, having to really force myself to get a shift on. A swift brew of double dose coffee and I was on the road with a distinct dose of departure lounge syndrome, you know when you really shouldn't be awake at that hour, your heads fuzzy, stomach feels like it hasn't been fed for a month, minds in another place? I was delighted to find that yesterdays fog had returned in places and I was in and out of thick banks of the stuff throughout the ninety mile trip. As usual the morons were out even at that hour with the misconception that switching on a rear fog light means that they can drive blindly at a hundred miles an hour.

I arrived in the Linch car park at about 6.30 shortly followed by Vince Williams who was down for a day session after the roach, with the milder weather plenty of other cars were lined up and we were both hoping that Willow wasn't rammed. Onto the first bank and no one in sight, mind you there was no lake in sight either just a wall of swirling fog, so much for casting to far bank markers then. I left Vince to set up while I carried on to a swim I fished on I believe my first session and near where I had seen my only definate show of roach so far, albeit almost two months earlier. A carp angler had caught a roach from a bit further along the previous weekend so there was certainly a change in the area, in fact that fish was the first roach of the year to be caught as far as we know.

I knew exactly where I wanted to be casting in relation to the far bank but as all I got was the very odd shape of a tree or two as the mist moved it was a struggle. I got the marker rod out and found the clear area first cast, clipping it up and then walking it out along the bank so that I could do the same with the fishing rods, then took an educated guess and managed to get them out where they needed to be.

When the fog finally lifted it turned into a lovely spring day, not a breath of wind and mild, I kept the feeders going in at roughly hourly intervals and watched the odd carp crash out here and there, no sign of any roach though. When Vince came along at 5.30 to say that he was off home I was thinking that my chances were dwindling, an hour of daylight left and everyone had said that daylight was the time for bites. As the light faded so did my hope, just the opposite to when perch fishing. I was sitting behind the rods at 7pm when the middle one started bleeping, thats strange I thought, must be a bite! Ok it was a bit more frantic than that, chaotic probably describes the scene, back went the rod and I felt a weight on the end kiting slightly but not feeling heavy at all, after a few seconds whatever it was came adrift and I wound in a rig with float stop slid down to the feeder. It certainly didn't feel like a big roach so after recasting I sat mulling things over and decided that it could have been a cray or a small fish. Just then something very roach like topped right over the spot which brought more questions than answers to mind, could it have been a roach,? Oh god I might just have lost the one bite I'd been waiting for.

I got a boil in the bag curry on the go in the bivvy doorway just as a breeze got up, I persevered for a few minutes but the wind was taking all of the heat from the pan and so I dropped the door to give some shelter though I had to sit holding the flap away from the stove to stop the fabric going up in flames. Just as I decided that the food was warmed up sufficiently the middle rod gave out another flurry of beeps, the pan was picked up in one hand, cooker in the other, door pushed open with another and the last one grabbed the rod, you get the picture! Yes I was in, mind you it felt small again, I just couldn't work out what was going on, no pressure at all from the other end just a weight coming straight towards me, I didn't have the chance to think for long as just like that it swam straight into the net. I shone the torch down into the mesh, looked back up, and just stood there smiling to myself for a minute. This was a proper roach, beyond anything I had ever set eyes on, sterling silver flanks and crimson fins shone up at me from the mat as I zero'd the scales, I didn't even consider guessing what it weighed but when the Avons made it 3lb 2oz's I wasn't surprised, what a stunningly beautiful fish. I popped her into my carp landing net secured in the margins while I set up the camera equipment, back on the mat it looked even better the second time round, too big to be real. After I slipped her back and watched her glide off into the lake I picked up the phone to text a few people and then thought better of it, I just wanted to sit alone with my thoughts for a while so thats what I did, perched on the edge of my bedchair with a bowl of half warm curry and a silly grin.

The next few hours were just a daze, I dearly felt the need for a couple of celebratory beers but I was under doctors orders to lay off while taking a course of tablets so no chance of that happening. I just sat out behind the rods in the the warm night listening to the odd roach roll out in front of me and down to my left. By 11pm my head was spinning and I really did have to get some sleep, it didn't come easily though and I reckon I must have lay there thinking for an hour before drifting off. Then I was woken by a bleep, I looked out at the rods and one bobbin was an inch or so low, then I thought that it had been like that before I went to sleep, anyway I needed a pee so got up. I was just walking back to the bivvy when the same rod bleeped again and the bobbin dropped a bit more which definately deserved a strike which was again met with the same light resistance. This fish had a little bit more spirit than the first one and pulled a little in the margins while I concentrated hard on not putting too much pressure on, the combination of a size 18 hook, 1 1/4 test rod, and 50 gram feeder with a big roach attached is a frightening thing I can assure you but all went well and in the net it went. The scales made this one 2lb 15oz's, I really was dreaming.

I had set the alarm for 6am in order to watch for a dawn show of fish but it seemed a bit pointless now, I knew that I wouldn't be moving anywhere and I needed some sleep badly so it was gone 7.30 when I poked my nose out into daylight. A couple of blokes were just setting up further along the bank and one wandered up into the swim, "Martin Bowler is it?" he asked, I think he needed to go to Specsavers! The day passed pretty much as the Friday, keep casting the feeders, attempt to scare off the tufties when they invade and generally enjoy the sunshine.

The two blokes down for the day packed up at 5.30 and reported no action as they passed me, within a minute of them leaving the right hand rod dropped back sharply and I was into a fish. This one pulled a bit right from the start and I was a bit worried about it snagging the other lines, then it weeded up and I feared the worst but just holding the pressure on did the trick and got it moving. In the margins it battled away for quite some time until finally beaten a shiny golden flank slid across the surface into the net. When I joined the lake I had fancied the chance of a big rudd as well as the roach and my wish had just come true, 2lb 11oz's of gorgeousness lay before me.

Not long after I had returned that fish another rod was bleeping away, in fact this one actually started to take line from the reel making me even more cautious as I bent into it, another frantic fight followed and another rudd came to the bank, 2lb 8oz's that one and not in the greatest of conditions being riddled with leaches that I attempted to remove as best I could, what incredible fishing, I don't think I've ever seen a rudd close to a pound let alone the class of these monsters.

The forcast for Sunday was for rain to come in from dawn and progressively get heavier to the point of torrential, I had no intention of hanging around anyway so set the alarm for 6am and thought I'd try and catch up on some sleep by turning in early. I was just starting to doze off when the right hand rod shot off, a proper run this time with the spool spinning fast. Once I had bent into the fish it slowed down and behaved itself right up until it got above the marginal shelf where it gave me the run around for a good while, keeping my heart pounding and mind praying for a good hook hold until I envelopped it in the net. I really do believe that by that stage I was so stunned by the accumulation of events to have become almost numb, it was a huge roach, 3lb 4oz's, stunning, wonderful, amazing, huge!

As you might expect I was suddenly wide awake after putting her back, I sat up for a while listening to roach rolling continuously further to my left towards the island before turning in for the night. I was awake at 4.30 and couldn't get back off, a cockerel was crowing away and the first spots of rain started to tip tap my nylon house with a warning of things to come. I decided to pack up there and then, beat the rain and get back home, something I always look forward to no matter where I've been or what I've been doing.

I was flying through the back lanes of Oxfordshire when Simon and Garfunkel's Mrs Robinson came on the radio, time for a full volume sing along at 5.30 am with a great big stupid grin on my face!

A special place - Swithland reservoir

Sunday the 12th of February

No fishing for me this weekend with quite a few jobs to do around the house, errands to run and a christening to attend but I did manage to get my waterside fix yesterday morning when we took the dog for a walk, not being a great fan of walking without a purpose I usually try to persuade the wife that we should head for somewhere fishing related, sometimes I even win!

The venue for today was to be Swithland reservoir which I hold a permit for and isn't far from home. We parked at the top of a lane a little distance away from the water and made our way cautiously down the ice coated tarmac track looking across to the rolling hills of Charnwood forest with Beacon Hill in the far distance and the viaduct of the Great Central Railway cutting through the trees. Looking back uphill towards the car we stopped for a moment to admire the house perched on the edge of the fields with a view to die for, in fact the view was what made the place, it could be a two up two down for all I cared with an outlook like that. The temperature was still below freezing point approaching midday but it was a stunning day with the sun reflecting from the snow coated fields making the landscape glow and we passed several other folk out enjoying the day before we reached the locked reservoir gates that create one of the things that make a water special to me, privacy and peace. With no public access to the water only the angler, estate worker or water authority staff can walk the banks and on locking the gate behind you the feeling of being in a privileged place can't be ignored, in fact we were stopped by a patrolling Severn Trent warden within a few hundred yards enquiring as to what we were doing there, as soon as she departed happy that we weren't trespassing we had the place all to ourselves. A small strip of clear water towards the far bank was alive with waterfowl, other than that a huge sheet of ice lay before us.

Walking on the lake bed

 I'm told that when its full to capacity the reservoir covers around 160 acres though at present it is just slightly higher than its minimum due to the incredibly dry summer and we were walking on what would normally be the bed. The railway viaduct splits the water in two visually and a silt trap and overspill weir running almost beneath the line does so physically, when at or near capacity the entire water is as one but for several years that hasn't happened and this year just a trickle of water came down from the weir into the stream bed of the lower half or bottom lake while by its nature the top lake holds its level. The two halves are very different, the top is only a few feet deep and this year was choked with weed, very few swims are available and in fact the largest area of bank is inaccessible due to huge reedbeds, swamp, and undergrowth. Brazil island sits on the middle of the overflow weir and supports the centre of the viaduct, a mysterious and tempting piece of the unknown which is out of bounds to the angler. The bottom lake takes on a more typical reservoir style with depths at capacity down to thirty plus feet at the dam, probably twelve feet or more less than that currently. When full the water laps the bankside trees and for such a large body of water swims are few and far between, with the water low much more is available but then areas of sinking mud are also exposed and these pieces of bank have to be avoided.

Tracks in the snow - the bottom lake looking towards the dam wall

I have only held a ticket for one season and my fishing has been limited to winter sessions after perch, my results total two fish in a rough estimate of one hundred and fifty rod hours, its tough, in fact its tough for virtually any fish. Jack pike are fairly abundant, small fry have been seen at times over the years and obviously the predators live on something but you can fish a maggot for ever and a day and not get a touch. The water is best known for bream, it produced two British records up to the year 2000 the largest being 16lb 12oz's, it still does hold big bream though numbers are dwindling and that fish has only been surpassed by one ounce in subsequent years. In the mid 1980's it produced rudd to very close to record proportions notably to Brian and Jon Culley, some small rudd still exist they think, the monsters are long gone. Potentially it has a superb track record for producing huge fish, in practice it is an incredibly difficult water that has also suffered the ravages of huge numbers of cormorants. So we can sum the fishing up as being slow, incredibly slow, you could easily spend an awful lot of time there with nothing of note to show result wise.

The viaduct

 So is it such a special place? Yes it potentially could produce a huge fish, its track record proves that, but there is much more too it than that. As we walked across the crisp snow crust the eyes were constant drawn to tracks, mammals and bird prints were everywhere but ours were the first human marks to break the surface since the snow fell a week earlier, the isolation was wonderful. And then the noise, it took a few seconds to realise what it was, the answer was nothing, not a thing, no traffic, no planes, no civilisation, just the occaisional bird and then in the distance came the whistle of a steam train approaching. We stood and watched the plume of smoke rising above the tree tops and then the vintage engine and carriages came into view, I'm no train buff but what an incredible sight as it crossed the arches above the glassy reservoir surface and then silence descended once again.

Last week I was considering what tickets I would have for the next season and thought that maybe I would let my Swithland place go, after yesterday I'm not sure that I can, I  could quite easily spend my time down there without even casting a line because finding such a complete escape from modern day life is a very rare event.