Hard Times

I’ve been away with work for the last few weeks so had not been out much. But I’ve managed two opens at Cudmore in the last two weeks and I think I’ve learnt a few things so here goes. In the first match I drew peg 138 on New Pool 5 – an end peg at the wood end. This was the really windy Sunday (I’m sure you remember it) but the wind was mainly off my back enabling me to fish the pole when many others struggled.

On my uppers

I’m on a poor run at the moment and haven’t picked up anything for a few months, not even sections. Partly this is because I’ve not been out often enough, so I’m out of touch with the changing moods, but it’s also partly down to the way I’ve fished. In particular, I am sick and tired of trying to do too many things, and not doing any of them properly. So this time I decided just to do two things. Long pole along the side of the lake to my right (about 12m was the most I could manage in the wind) and the margin to my left.

My new, focused, stick-to-my-guns approach lasted about an hour. By this time, Jay DeClouet and Neill Lloyd opposite me had about 5 fish each on the bomb, whereas I had one F1 in the net. Much to my annoyance looking back, I got the bomb rod out, chucked it out halfway (the same line Jay was fishing) and didn’t get a bite, while he continued to catch.

So about 2 hours in, and having re-engaged my brain, I went back to concentrating on the pole. I’d been feeding the left hand margin with meat and hemp from the start, but it was too early yet, so went back on the long pole, small cube of meat on the hook, feeding meat and hemp through a toss-pot. I caught two decent F1s in the next hour, and decided to have a look in the margin. There were fish there but they were not interested. I foul hooked a lump first put in (it came off) and then had a few roach and skimmers but it was no good.

Out long again, I was still going nowhere and with time slipping away I had to try something. So I replaced my small toss pot with a big one, and decided to feed a full pot (maybe 20 small cubes) every 120 seconds, bites or no bites. Amazingly, after about 5 minutes I had a fish. Then another one. I ended up weighing 29lb, all off this line. This was nowhere in the match – Trev Robinson won my lake with 83lb and Lewis Breeze won the match with 100lb – but something interesting was happening. Every time I tipped in a pot of meat, I got a bite within seconds. If I missed a bite, and dropped back in – nothing. Cup in again, go straight in, and you got a bite. But if you didn’t get a bite instantly, forget it.

‘Too late’ was the cry

So what was going on? Eventually I sussed it. Unfortunately, this was not until the following Wednesday morning when I was having a cup of tea. The swim was 3ft deep (obviously pretty deep for a margin) and I reckon that when the feed was cupped in, the fish dashed out of the reeds, took the feed dropping through, and ignored (or were mega-cautious) about any lying on the bottom. The answer was too fish half-depth and keep dropping it in. So, another lesson learned.

Seconds Out, Round Two

A week later I drew peg 134, only 4 pegs away from the previous week but actually on a different lake. New Pools at Cudmore is 6 horizontal strips each about 35 metres wide, and peg 134 put me on Pool 4, 3 pegs in from the wood end.
I decided to fish the bomb to half-way across, pole in front of me at 7 metres, and both margins. I wanted to go as long as I could in the margins and went 8 metres to my left but could only get 4 metres to my right because of the nearside vegetation. I started by feeding meat at 7 metres and in both margins, and chucked out the bomb.

Mad Bomb

On New Pools I like to fish a light bomb with a piece of hair-rigged punched meat on a 12 inch trace. I loose fed 4 or 5 pieces of meat over the top with a catty. The bomb is a mad method, that defies many of the principles of fishing most of us grew up with. You chuck out a single bait, pretty much wherever you fancy, and then fire a few samples over the top, vaguely in the area that you’ve chucked your bomb. But don’t worry if it’s not that accurate – they seem to prefer it spread out. Then you sit back, whistle a merry tune, whilst idly looking around you and taking in the wonderful countryside. If you tire of this, fire out a few more loose offerings, and then ring your mate on the mobile to see how he is getting on.
A relaxing first hour saw me land four fish, which was about par for those around me, but slower than they were catching on Pool 3 – which I could see opposite me. I decided to spend 15 minutes on the 7 metres line, but got no joy, so I went out on the bomb again, figuring that the quick 7m trial had cost me one fish. By this time the wind in my face had got stronger, with the result that my small cubes of meat could not be fired out as far as necessary. So I resorted to punching out some bigger pieces which I then fired out one at a time. Bites were indicated by the rod being dragged off the rest, and after 2.5 hrs I had 9 fish – nothing special but still in the hunt whilst I continued to build (or so I hoped) my 7 metre and margin lines. I was feeding just meat to the left margin, and mainly hemp (with the odd bit of meat) to the right hand margin.

Bad Angling

After a quiet spell on the bomb I came in again and tried the 7 metre line. A bite straight always resulted in a foul-hooked barbel of 2lb which I landed, Back out again, a missed bite straight away. Back out again, the float buried and my grey hydro elastic streamed out of my pole heading in an easterly direction! This fish was properly hooked and was a lump. After about 5 seconds it inexplicably came off. When I shipped back in I was gutted to see my rig had snapped. At first I thought it had snapped but in fact there was no piece of broken line – the rig had gone. I checked the crow’s foot knot but it was fine. The only conclusion was that I had not ‘snapped’ the knot shut when attaching the double loop to the elastic. And yet I had still landed a foul-hooked barbel on it. Whatever, it was bad angling to lose a fish in that way. And damned frustrating as I’d just started to catch. So I re-fed, and chucked out the bomb whilst I found another rig.

Decisions, Decisions

In the time it took me to select a replacement rig, attach it (properly this time) and adjust the depth and shotting, I had two fish on the bomb. Good news but ‘what to do’ – stick with the bomb on back onto the 7 metre line? No contest really, so back onto the pole. But I had missed the boat – I had a few more bites but they were skimmers and roach. The proper fish were gone, and I never caught again on this line.
With 2 hours of the six left, and with a fish count of about 10, I came in on the left hand margin. The float disappeared, and I lifted into a mirror of about 3lb, which I netted. I re-fed left, and dropped in to the right hand margin swin, and the float immediately disappeared. Another carp. I landed this, fed the right, and went down the left again. Five seconds later the float buried, and another carp was on its way to the net. Happy Days! I nearly (but not quite) started to think I was ‘on’.
Another biteless 10 minutes on both margin swims soon put paid to that idea. But others were catching, so I knew I had to try and make it work. I upped the feed considerably to the hemp swim (right hand) and started to catch every 5 or 10 minutes or so. And adding an extra section on my left margin to really stretch as far down as I could also bagged me a few extra fish, and at the all out I had 24 in the net.

The Verdict

The scales gave me 75lb, which was best in the section so far, but behind Jon Davies’ 90lb from Pool 5. However, Pools 2 and 3 blew me away. Trev Robinson won it again with a cracking 113lb from Pool 3. He fished meat at 6 metres all day. Aside from being a good angler, there is something in the way he is feeding it. Not sure what but if I draw next to him this weekend I’ll find out. Other framers included two of my Last Cast team-mates Pete Mulheir and Pete Lowry, both with 90lb plus. (If they continue to cost me money they face an uncertain future in the squad!) And to make matters worse, there was an 80lb from the other end of my section. So, no goulash for Merce, but I was happy. If you go home moaning after catching 75lb you need to have a word with yourself.

I’m at Cuddy again this weekend, then off to Stafford Moor the week after. Down in glorious Devon I’ll be fishing a few opens (which are mega-competitive) but also some ‘£5 each’ knock-ups with my mates. So I should at least pick-up something, then again…