Pilgrim’s Progress – read it every Thursday! A Change is as Good as a Rest
Those of you who read PP regularly will know that I’ve been in chub mode since late autumn. You’ll also know that I’ve been struggling as well, due to the weather (well, that’s what I tell myself, and it does make me feel better!).
I recently allocated some time to spend a couple of days on a river. All looked well until a day before I was due to fish, when we had an almighty downpour which just about put paid to my chances of doing some chubbing. However, not to be deterred, I decided to do something totally different. Although the rivers were in bad condition, there had been a reasonable rise in temperature from about 1 to 6, so I decided to have a session after stillwater carp.
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| The pool Stewart fished |
I headed for a four acre pool deep in the heart of Worcestershire. I had never fished the water before, didn’t know anyone who had, in fact I didn’t have any pre-knowledge whatsoever. But the club handbook said it contained carp, so that was good enough for me. It certainly was off the beaten route, accessed by a track that was akin to many I had travelled on during my times in the African bush. Upon arrival at the pool, I realised that even this stillwater had not escaped the effects of the recent rain. The stream that entered the pool had worked overtime to bring some colour into what I imagined would have been reasonably clear water prior to the downpour. As this was Teme country the pool was an orangey chocolate colour. Anyone who has seen the Teme in flood, as the clay strata through which it flows quickly colours the river, will know what I mean. It reminded me of a lake I fished a couple of years ago where the water would change the same colour during heavy rains. In the case of that lake it meant the kiss of death as far as fishing was concerned. Still, as this was virgin water for me, I didn’t know how it would respond. And after all, I was here now, so I may as well stick it out.
The first thing I did was plumb the pool. I find this is essential for a number of reasons. First of all it enables you to build up a picture of the water depthwise, and secondly, it will tell you what the bottom is like. As a result of the time spent plumbing, I decided to fish the dam wall, which at 12 feet was the deepest part of the pool. The bottom I discovered was clay, with a light layer of silt on top. A third benefit of plumbing is that snags will be revealed, although I didn’t discover any on this occasion, in the area I chose to fish.
I had decided to go all out for carp and so the night before Mrs Sedge and myself rattled up some carp sweets (boilies) in the kitchen. I also took along some sweetcorn, intending to put out a number of catapult pouches of corn and a handful of boilies into two different areas. The bank I was on was quite flat so I was able to fish off the pod. By 3.00pm on day one, I had cast out and was now waiting for some action.
As this is winter, sunset soon came, and even though it had been mild during the day the onset of darkness saw the temperature fall to just about freezing. As the evening wore on I had resigned myself to getting a good night’s sleep and maybe seeing some action the next day. But then about 7.00pm (two hours into dark) I started getting slight bleeps on the indicator. As I lay on my bedchair I figured there were either small fish ‘picking’ at the bait, or else I was detecting line bites. Either way, it meant there was something happening beneath the surface.
Then at 11.00pm, the continuous bleep of the indicator was telling me that something had picked up the bait and was well and truly hooked. I jumped out of bed and struck into what was a mirror carp of exactly 2lb 4oz 8drm! Still, I was struggling lately, I thought to myself, so beggars can’t be choosers.
After re-casting I made a quick call to Mrs Sedge. ‘Deb, I’ve got one’. ‘Great, how big is it’ she asked, with genuine interest. ‘Have a guess’ I replied. I don’t know whether I sounded excited at simply catching a fish, or whether she has an optimistic opinion of me, but the answer was ‘Fifteen pounds’…I should be so lucky…
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| Nearly a double |
That night I had another two carp (one mirror and one common), both singles and taken at midnight and 3.00am. Waking up the next morning for day two I was happy that at least I’d caught something. It had been cold in the night and now that the sun was poking through the trees, the raise in temperature would surely produce some decent fish. But nothing doing during the whole of day two. Not even a single bleep on the indicator to let me know that at least something was stirring beneath the water.
Settling down for the second night I wondered if the previous one had been a fluke. At 6.45 pm I was woken (I had dozed off) once more by the noise we all like to hear…bleeeeeep! Striking, I realised that although this was no monster, at least it was a better fish than the three the night before. A nice looking mirror carp soon gave up the fight and was on the unhooking mat. The second night was much colder than the first, but I still had two other good runs, which unfortunately didn’t produce fish on the bank.
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| And again, almost a double |
Day three, again like the ones before it, were totally dead. Only the nights had produced, which I felt was quite bizarre. In fact I had taken a book to read, which incidentally was a carp book. In the writer’s opinion, the best time in January and February was between 12.00 Noon and 3.00pm. Forget the nights, he insisted. And here I was catching fish with ice forming on the rain water which had collected in the ruts on the bank. Setting off on the long uphill struggle back to the car, I agreed with the saying…A change is as good as a rest.
I was tempted to change course and switch from my chub campaign to stillwater carping. But, there is also another saying…One swallow does not make a summer. So I was content in my heart to have enjoyed the experience, but to resume the pursuit of chub. Still, I knew I would be back to this pool in the not too distant future, as I intend to target carp when the river season ends in March. Although I hadn’t set any records on this trip, I relished the thought of tackling the water which appeared to be under-fished.
As I loaded everything into the car I was thinking how well things had gone. I hadn’t blanked, I hadn’t fell in, I hadn’t kicked any tackle in the water. Nothing had gone wrong. Until I tried to start the car…it wouldn’t work. (I know absolutely nothing about mechanical things, in fact I’m the sort of person that unscrupulous mechanics love. They can tell me anything and I believe them : “Your car needs some indicator fluid sir.”.”Ok, fill it up then.”). I immediately put Plan A into action – I pray, and then turn the ignition again. I usually try this a number of times, until the battery tells me its patience is wearing thin.
When that didn’t work I resorted to Plan B. I only carry one piece of car maintenance kit with me, a can of WD 40. So, popping the bonnet I proceeded to do what I normally do when the car doesn’t start – I spray everything that moves. But, still no life.
Plan C always works – call the AA, and they’ll send a man who can, in this case a really nice guy called Gary Veale. We had a really good chat as he got me going again. Gary’s story is typical of so many. He used to fish as a young man, but then left the sport behind. But Gary, any time you fancy a dabble again, drop me a line (pun intended) and we’ll see what we can fix up.
Next Thursday I’m going to introduce you to Mrs Sedge and the Sedgelings and tell you how my obsession with fishing affects their lives. See you next week…
The Reverend Stewart R Bloor
Sedgley International Christian Ministries
PO Box 1216, Dudley. DY3 1GW.
Telephone : 01384 – 828033
Web site : www.sicm.org
e-mail : missionscentre@sicm.org
