The FM Catfish Fish-in

FishingMagic’s First Ever Catfish Fish-in

AFTER MONTHS OF PLANNING, here it was. The catfish fish-in. This was the first fish-in I had ever organised, and indeed the first I had ever been to. It was also a first time experience for quite a few of us. The months of planning had all gone smoothly and it was time to get it under way.

The drive to Beaver Farm fishery, located just outside of East Grinstead, was more uncomfortable than I had anticipated as the transport for the trip was a heavily overloaded car owned by Evan – and it was overloaded before I had even put my stuff in! Knowing it was going to be a tight squeeze I did my best to travel light, but as I’m sure most of you know, travelling light for a two day stint by the side of a lake can only be so light….

After travelling for just under and hour, with what felt like a 50lb bag on my legs, we finally arrived to find Nick and Christian already there, so we all quickly decamped by the side of the lake at our chosen swims, with Emmo not too far behind, promptly followed by the appearance of Cakey and Mark.

The whole crew was there, but one.

The weather was nice on arrival. A hot sunny day with a gentle breeze. Not bad catfish conditions, but not great given the whole of August’s weather prior to our arrival.

Time ticked by, and regular checks of the phone were to prove fruitless, until the bad news is received that Budgie, our resident and only catfish expert, had broken down on route, and was unable to make it. This was to prove to be somewhat of a problem as only Cakey had had previous experience with catfish, and the rare encounters he had had were of the unintentional kind. But as we all know, the show must go on !

Tuscany Lake, the theatre that was our lake for the duration

The light begins to fade as dusk falls slowly, imparting that warm feeling every angler gets when they know that they are moving into the time when things will happen.

The preparations have been made and we start fishing. Various tactics have been employed, whether it be placing a big bed of pellets and particles on a drop-off, and fishing livebaits over the top, or just fishing a single livebait or lump or luncheon meat over various features.

having set the traps and ready to relax for an hour into darkness there is the inevitable beeping of bite alarms ringing around the lake as we all set our rods down. Then there was not a single sound stirring around the lake, but with the night still young, it was time to have some food.

Providing food for seven hungry mouths whilst by the side of a lake is no mean feat as I’m sure most of you are aware, but Evan rose to the challenge and served up a perfect pork and bean stew which would have warmed the cockles of the most seasoned of anglers. This was apparent by Nick’s enthusiasm in particular. ‘Mr Shimano’ was quite taken aback with the stew also. Now, for those of you who haven’t the faintest clue who Mr Shimano is, he was our nightly entertainment, and proved to be the source of entertainment for the second night also, with his antics being the butt of most of the humour that night, with Cakey’s quick witted comments providing many a laugh also as we shared the stew under the nights sky.

After consuming our fill of dinner, we all gradually made our way back to our pits for the duration.

The sky was clear, with not a single cloud in the sky, and the air was warm enough to let us wear jeans and a jumper as Evan, Cakey and myself gathered for a chinwag, discussing all sorts of things from catfish to stars to bizarre theories, of which Cakey has a few. That night, although beautiful, was also all too peaceful. No one had a run, apart from three seconds of heart stopping screaming from Cakey’s alarm, only to find a small jack pike of about 2lb had snaffled his livebait. A censored mumble from myself, and no doubt Cakey, saw us return to the peace of our own rods, and not a lot else. Finally at 5am, I decided to call it quits; having stayed awake for most of the night I was ready for some sleep, so wound in and crawled into my sleeping bag for what was intended to be a couple of hours, but I didn’t rise again until almost noon on the Wednesday.

Having missed the chance to go early morning tenching on one of the other lakes, I decided it was time to get everything ready for the evening ahead.

Not a lot had been going on, but a few beeps from what appeared to be Christian’s alarm saw him lift into a fish, only to be bumped off seconds later. He arrived round our side of the lake a few minutes later to tell us the news, and by the look of shock and disappointment on his face, he was not joking. It was a terrible thing to happen, and knowing that could have been the only chance of seeing a catfish on the bank, it was all the more painful.

After commiserations and a quick chat on tactics again, the rigs needed making, bait needed preparing and also, equally important, dinner needed buying.

So after a quick recce around the lake, Evan and I headed off to buy some food, ready for a Great British BBQ. And a Great British affair it would prove to be, as the weather on the Wednesday was less than inviting. Cloudy, breezy and with not so short, sharp showers frequently coming down.

On return to the fishery it was apparent that the weather was not going to change as the heavens had opened and everything was a muddy mess; but we’re British you know, and a few hours later after the nightly preparations had been done, and baits were in the water, we decided it was time for the barbecue.

Huddled under the shelter of a few trees, cowering from the short sharp showers, we had a veritable feast at our disposal. Once again, thanks to Evan’s expertise, we had a good number of sausages, burgers, buns and sauces waiting for us to consume, and we didn’t disappoint. The weather did its best to dampen our spirits, but with a sky as black as tar, and only a few head torches for light, we all had a good sized dinner as well as a good laugh too, with Mr Shimano providing most of the laughs again.

Snipe lake, this could very well be the lake for many of us to catch on next year

Bellies full and the night well underway, we all decided it was time to get back to our rods and stay alert. Residing back to our luxury one bedroom, self catering apartments, complete with lake view and ensuite bathrooms, we all settled in for what we thought would be another uneventful night.

The night was a lot colder than the previous night. Not a single star could muster enough shine to break through the dark clouds that sat overhead, threatening to unleash the rains upon us at any moment, but they held off, apart from a few more short showers leaving us sitting inside our bivvies. A break from the rain at roughly 11:25pm saw me dart out of my bivvy for a quick stretch of the legs before crawling back in, for what would only be a few minutes.

Here it was, the moment we had all been waiting for. No sooner had the clock struck 11:30, when I heard what I thought was a faint shout. I poked my head out the bivvy to see Evan looking back at me. I asked him if he heard something, and he wasn’t sure, so off we went.

We had to pass Cakey’s tent first, and then Emmo’s We stuck our heads around the sides of their bivvies and asked, “did you hear something?”

“Not a sound,” they both replied.

But we carried on regardless to the end of the lake, towards Mark who was on the other side. We saw a single head torch beam dancing by the lake’s edge.

“Are you into something?”, I considerately and quietly enquire, so as not to wake the others on a false alarm, but am duly greeted with a bellowing, “get the damn net would you!”

As quick as a flash we ran to Emmo’s bivvy and pinched his net, asking him politely if he would like to join us, as it would appear that Mark was into something. No sooner were the words out my mouth than he had sprung out of his sleeping bag and was with us, racing around the other side of the lake to find Mark’s rod bent double as he wrestled with the leviathan from the deep.

A quick shout to Cakey to “get round here, and bring the camera!” soon got him stirring, as Evan made his way round the lake to give Nick and Christian the news. Personally, I had never been night fishing before, but even though I was mere a spectator, watching a fish like that come up to the surface and roll, in the pitch black with nothing but a few head torches on it was incredible.

A few times we caught glimpses of the creature Mark was attached to, but in the dark, you don’t see much at all. Occasionally we saw its head come up, only to see it roll the full length of its body before disappearing again. But never did we see its true size. The fact that it was a substantial fish was in no doubt though, indicated by the frequent grunts and groans of Mark as he wrestled some more.

“I cant move it,” he says more than once, “it’s just sitting there like a dead weight”. At which point it powers off again, stripping more line off the reel before Mark can regain what little control he had in the first place.

After what felt like about 15 minutes it was almost ready for the net. Dragging it closer to the net, it didn’t go in first time, and needed another five minutes of playing before it finally folded, and sunk despairingly into the mesh. Congratulations to Mark came at this point, as the size of the fish was insignificant. To merely get one on the bank was an achievement in itself, and it was no more than we could have hoped for.

It needed two of us to lift it onto the unhooking mat. It was clear it was a big fish, and everyone was there to witness it, everyone but Christian who was still tucked up in his bivvy, sound asleep, none the wiser to what had just happened. But not wanting him to miss out, I ran round and unzipped the door. I swear to god, I have never seen someone wake up and get out of a bivvy as fast as Christian did then. Still not the slightest bit awake, I tell him the news that Mark has got one. At first he doesn’t believe me, but I reassure him as we make our way back round to where the action is.

Already unhooked and prepared for weighing, we all decided to have a quick guess as to what we think it weighs. “A good 20,” says Mark, Evan guesses 30, myself, 35 and Cakey says he thinks it might be a scraper 40. How wrong we were. Upon lifting, it was obvious it was bigger than what we all thought, flinging the scales round to a staggering 53lb! With smiles all round, although none quite as big as Mark’s, photos taken and congratulations handed to him, the creature was slipped back into the water, perhaps never to be seen again by any of us.

Mark, with his 53lb cat, the biggest fish of his life, and only fish of the trip

After the excitement it was apparent that none of us had realised it had started raining, and with a quick glance to the skies above, it didn’t look like it was going to stop soon. Crawling into our bivvies once more it would be the last time any of us would be out again until mid morning as the rain lashed down non-stop for eight hours, covering everything in a thin layer of mud as it pounds down relentlessly.

Morning had arrived and the rain still fell. I glanced outside to see if it’s going to stop soon, but it didn’t look good. After some careful consideration, I decided to brave the elements enough to have one last cast with a couple of boilies to see if a carp was hungry, but no joy. A few line bites from what I expect were bream, but not a lot else.

Sadly though, it was time to start packing up, and Cakey and Emmo had already made a start, filling their car slowly, getting ready for the long drive home. A quick last walk around the lake saw me in Mark’s swim one last time as the bailiff, Nick, walked past. We give him the news that we had one, but couldn’t understand why no one came and got him. The truth is, I was banging on his door for about 5 minutes, but he was fast asleep and dead to the world. Upon telling him the size of the fish that was caught, his face lights up as he tells Mark he has caught the biggest cat this year, which just adds to the size of the grin that is still on his face. With one final thing needing doing, we all gathered in the car park for a group photo, letting the bailiff do the honours.

The Catfish Crew after a few days by the lake at Beaver Farm Fisheries

With photos taken and people ready to leave, handshakes were passed around as Cakey gave news of his carp trips to France, which incidentally sound great, so be sure to ask him if you’re interested. One by one people drove off back to their homes, and finally Evan and I were also under way, making our way back home in a car that didn’t seem as cramped as a few days before, but equally full to the gunnels.

With one final note, I would like to thank everyone for coming and making it as good as it was. You’re all a great bunch of guys, and it would be great to do it again sometime. Congratulations have to go to Mark once more as he may never catch a fish of that size ever again, and to do it on an FM fish-in, and it being the only fish of the trip, makes it all the more special.

I would also like to thank Beaver Farm Fisheries for being excellent hosts, and Nick the bailiff in particular for spending as much time as he could with us, going over rigs and tactics, as well as also giving us some suitable hooks as he knew Budgie sadly hadn’t made it.

For those of you who are interested, and I hope many are, there will be another FM catfish fish-in next year. The dates haven’t been finalised as yet, but we are looking to go around the June/July time of year, so as to try and guarantee some better, more catfish-suitable weather.

Although having the two days by the side of the lake was good, we just didn’t feel it was quite long enough, so three days was suggested, and has been agreed upon. There is also a good chance it will be a midweek affair like it was this time. The lake of choice is called Snipe, and after speaking to the bailiff some more, it is apparent that there are a lot of small cats in there, around the 10lb mark, but not so many bigger ones. It is however a far more picturesque lake with lily pads in abundance, as well as a few islands. There is also a good head of carp going to mid 30’s, and some tench going to 9lb, as well as the usual silvers. This lake is twice the size of the lake we were on, so twice the numbers would be needed. The lake holds roughly 18 people, although we might be able to get away with a few less if need be, but 18 is maximum.

I am going to write down this year’s names first, so with eight names gone, you’d better get in there quick if you want to come along. You can either mention you are interested on the existing thread on the forum called “Catfish fish-in ; confirmation thread”, or email me directly through the website.

Please look at the fisheries website if you feel the need to. Although it is a little out of date, it gives a good idea of what the place has to offer.

Cheers for reading guys, and I hope you enjoyed it enough to be inspired to come along next time.