A Midsummer’s Day Bream

A Mid Summer’s Day Bream

You could be forgiven for thinking that I only go fishing with boozy mates to enjoy a raucous few days away from the wife; a few hours by the bank and then a night out on the town swilling pints, scoffing curries and ogling saucy waitresses: but you’d be wrong. It’s a well known fact that the human male needs time to himself. (All the great male pastimes are generally enjoyed alone: golf, angling and of course the all time number one!) Accordingly, last year, I decided that it was about time I had a day’s fishing on my own.

It occurred to me quite early on that there are several significant advantages to solitary angling. Firstly, you don’t have to get up at some unearthly hour to satisfy the misguided notion that “the early bird catches the worm“, especially if you’re just going out for a day’s fishing. Furthermore, there is no one about to mock your lousy casting; no one to put you off by catching loads when you’re not; no one to borrow your last feeder; the list goes on.

I have to admit that there was another reason for a solitary day out. I had read an article on FishingMagic by Mark Wintle, prolific article writer and co-author of a book on pole fishing, about self-take photography and I fancied a go at it myself, assuming I was going to catch something worth photographing, that is!

So with my tackle in the back of my car along with my camera and tripod, the only remaining question to be answered was where to go?

There is a jewel in the heart of Norfolk that is Blickling Hall Estate Lake. This heaven on earth holds large stocks of quality roach; huge numbers of sizeable bream, a few into double figures; large tench; pike to twenty odd pounds and the occasional carp over thirty. I decided to pay it a visit in the middle of July last year.

Situated in a beautiful setting; nestling in a valley with the magnificent National Trust Jacobean house and gardens, the lake is a twenty odd acre gem. Tradition has it that the house was the birth place of Anne Boleyn and that her headless ghost haunts the place still. It was voted the most haunted house in Britain in a National Trust survey in October 2007, which adds spice to a late evening’s tenching!

The dam wall is the most popular area of the lake so when I arrived I thought I’d go for a bit of peace and quiet by choosing one of the platform swims among the reeds on the south side of the lake. I took my time setting up taking two trips from my car to bring all my gear. The previous evening I’d emptied half of a catering sized can of sweetcorn into two bait boxes, and put a kilo of method mix in a container to soak.

I get some funny ideas into my head at times and for some unknown reason I’d decide to fish sweetcorn all day, no change of bait which is something I rarely do. In fact I can’t remember the last time I went fishing without maggots but this was a different type of session for me so sweetcorn it was.

I put up my Daiwa ‘Lightening‘ heavy feeder rod with eight pound line and an in-line, small (28gm) Drennan method feeder. For terminal tackle I decided on a short, five pound hooklink of about six inches, to a size twelve hook; the bait was to be two hair rigged grains of sweetcorn.

I cast out about fifty-five yards aiming at a tree on the opposing bank, placed the rod in the bite alarm and commenced setting up my float rod and waggler for a spot of roach fishing. After about ten minutes there was a beep-beeping and I turned swiftly to my feeder rod, my hand poised to strike but the indicator was not moving. What was going on? Then I realised that the beep-beep was coming from the reversing alarms of the fork lift trucks on the opposite bank. The previous weekend the Hall had hosted a ‘Girls Aloud’ concert and the temporary stadium crews were taking down the scaffolding that morning. They were beep-beeping all day long which was not what I had in mind for a quiet day’s fishing!

I continued waggler fishing, catapulting a pouch full of sweetcorn every now and then; getting the odd bite and occasional six ounce roach. The morning was warming up; the reed warblers were warbling; small mammals were rustling in the rushes; bees were humming; it was turning out to be a very nice day. I reached down for some more sweetcorn to discover the baitbox surrounded by dozens of lively, buzzing wasps! Aaargh! My left hand was covered in sugary sweetcorn juice and the wasps were beginning to get mighty interested. I quickly washed my hands in the lake and rinsed as much of the sugary juice from the corn, finally replacing the lid hoping this would reduce the risk of being stung.

At about midday I had a good run on the bite alarm and struck into a decent fish. You certainly get your money’s worth when you’re fishing at fifty yards. It was obviously a bream; indolently nodding its way into my landing net to weigh in at 7lb 1oz. As I didn’t really think I would catch anything decent I’d left the tripod in the car so I took a standard photo as evidence for my sceptical mates that I’d actually caught something before returning it to the lake.

Blickling bream, 7lb 1oz

The roach fishing was going well when the bite alarm sounded again and I landed another seven pound bream. This convinced me that it would be worth my while to set up the tripod for my first self-take shot. Being mindful of the sage advice from Mark Wintle I took the trouble to set up a practice shot using the tripod box as a substitute fish. It was looking good. Half an hour later a run produced an almost identical bream on the bank and all was set for the self-taker. I laid the fish on the grass in the weigh sling near the spot I had chosen, quickly round to press the ten second timer then scuttled back to pick up the fish and assume the pose. The results can be seen in the third photograph. Hmmm… it’s not as easy as Mark would have us believe! I’m not one to mess about with fish so I returned it before I had time to check the photo.

Mark Wintle suggests a framing shot…

The best laid plans!

Blickling has but one drawback, you’re rarely on your own. There is usually a constant stream of walkers parading around the lake which can be a real nuisance. I recall one February day when I thought I would be guaranteed a bit of peace and quiet only to be disturbed by coach loads of bird watchers arriving desperate to catch a glimpse of a Great Northern Diver which had turned up. It was a tiny black speck in the middle of the lake! I have rarely seen such a collection of expensive binoculars, beards and dandruff in one place.

However, the Great British public have their uses. At about half past four I caught my fifth bream and as I turned to the grass behind my swim I discovered a small gallery had formed. After answering the usual questions about what sort of fish is it and was I going to eat it, I asked one of them if they would help me by taking a photograph, the results can be seen below.

Ask a passer-by

The rest of the session passed uneventfully, I caught a couple more bream, and continued with a pleasant day’s roach fishing eventually packing up at about 7.00pm. As I drove home past the golden fields of Norfolk barley, ripening in the early evening sun, I reflected on upon my day’s fishing. I think the jury’s still out on the self take photography; I certainly need some more practice. As for solitary fishing, it’s alright but you can have a lot more fun with your mates.