Crucian Carp
I should have been in Kent tench fishing, but instead I found myself standing next to a lovely, mature lake in deepest Surrey. The tench would have to wait a while longer, whilst I indulged a desire to catch something much rarer: a big crucian carp.
It is a sad indictment of the state of our fisheries that species such as the crucian carp (and dace, rudd, bleak, ruffe, etc.) appear to be in serious decline, especially if you are searching for specimens of the said species. There are certainly few places better to catch a specimen crucian than Godalming Angling Society’s fisheries centered around their Marsh Farm complex, and I was now stood on the banks of their club lake, Johnsons.
This lake is certainly a goldmine, containing a massive head of all species it would seem. And of course, whenever precious things are discovered, a gold-rush follows, with in this case, anglers travelling from all over the country to try and catch one of these beautiful fish.
It seemed, that for once, my timing was impeccable. As I walked along the bank an angler had just netted a fish, and as he laid it on the unhooking mat my eyes nearly popped out of my head, it was a crucian, and it was enormous! The strong south-westerly wind had obviously got them feeding, and despite it being mid-afternoon, I had obviously arrived in the middle of a feeding spell. I didn’t need telling twice, and pretty sharpish for me two rods were cast out in the first available swim.
The water sloped away ever so slowly, but around 35 metres out there was an emerging bed of stringy Potamogeton, which would give the fish some cover, and broke up the monotony, so I clipped the lines up, tied on powergum markers and picked a couple of far bank features to fish towards.
Bait was to be 4mm softened pellets, the smallest I could hair-rig; although I had only about a 30% success rate as most of the things split. These were fished to a 3lb fluorocarbon hooklength and size 16 barbless hook. My reasoning being that this would be finer than most specimen anglers would dare fish, giving me an advantage. I knew this gear was well up to the job though, having taken carp up to 24lb on it in the past.
Small flat method feeders would introduce just groundbait; a mixture of green talapia and brown halibut mixes, with no other feed. Not exactly traditional, but very effective, and fishing a float under the rod top as the traditionalists might prefer would have seen me fishing in four inches of water!
It took exactly eight minutes for my first bite (give or take). The bobbin jerked and the next moment the Baitrunner was doing its job. A tench, a nice one too, but not what I was after, still it was a fish! By dusk 29 more of the blighters had put in an appearance, but amongst them, like specks of gold in a sea of green, were five crucians, and what fish they were!
The first weighed 3lb 4oz 8dr. The second equalled my old PB of 2lb 14oz, but the third! The third weighed 3lb 15oz 8 drams! A very old friend of mine, Martin, who happens to be a bailiff on the lake, was drinking coffee with me at the time, and it was fantastic to share such a special moment with such great company. We took a few pictures, slipped the fish back, and I did a little jig around my bivvy.
I wound in around 10pm; the action had slowed down considerably, and I was knackered from all the tench activity. The rest of the session passed in a flash. It would have been easy to sit back and take it easy after catching a big fish so early on, but it was obvious that I had arrived just as the crucians were going on their annual feeding binge, and I should take advantage. At the end of my allotted two night trip I tallied up the catch as roughly 60 tench, one small carp, and 38 crucians, all of which weighed more than 2lb, with 23 over 3lb. That third fish remained the biggest, but several other big threes came to the net.
As you might imagine, it didn’t take me too long to make a return visit, but this time the lake seemed to be in a different mood. Yes, fish were being caught, but after feeding up, and being caught, they were not going to feed with such gusto again. Spods seemed to be flying everywhere, as carp and crucian anglers alike attempted to attract as many tench, coots and tufties as possible. I certainly didn’t fancy being a part of this melee, so set up camp some way from the going swims, but still in a favourable area.
On this trip the fishing was certainly slower, with just five crucians landed and perhaps another two bumped off. The first night I was lucky to find the crucians willing to come right under the bank and picked off three fish within feet of the bank. Another fish put in an appearance from the same spot around mid-morning. I persevered with both rods right in the edge, but almost missed a trick. At dusk the crucians put on a great display, rolling around 20 metres out. I should of course have immediately cast one rod to them but, mistakenly as it turned out, thought that this was just a prelude to them visiting the shallow margins under cover of darkness.
By first light I had realised my mistake, but was it too late?
With the sun up I could see the bottom where I had been fishing and it was devoid of fish. One rod was cast further out where I had spotted the fish the previous evening and the morning rolled on. I was visiting my parents later in the day, so wanted to be away by lunchtime and was really just waiting for the dew to be burnt off my bivvy before packing up. The odd tench did a good crucian impression, but really I felt that the session was pretty much over, and just sat eating breakfast and drinking coffee.
Then, out of the blue, a slow jerky bite developed on the rod cast ‘long’. I leaned into it and felt the jagging fight that could mean a crucian. The fish felt quite heavy so I took my time expecting at any moment for a green back to emerge, but no, deep down I saw a flash of gold, and then another. A big crucian surfaced, glided across the surface and into the waiting net. The latter stages of the ‘battle’ were over so quickly that I had not seen the fish properly, but when I lifted the net it felt heavy.
Opening the folds of the net I was greeted by the sight of my friend from the previous week, the 3lb 15oz fish. Only this time my neighbour in the next swim kindly confirmed a weight of 4lb 1oz 8dr on my match scales. That would do for me! Now it was definitely time for one of my mum’s special fry-ups and the long journey home.
‘Proper’ Carp
I must admit my carp fishing is generally limited to a couple of trips a year at the moment, as there is just not enough time to fit a proper campaign in for them amongst all of the other species that I want to target. That isn’t to say though that I don’t try to keep my finger on the pulse of what is going on, and there are a few fish that I will hopefully one day fish for. Top of my list is probably ‘Colin the Carp’, the king (or perhaps queen) of the Shallow Pit on the St Ives Complex. I guess it is a ‘he’ as this fish has been at a steady 47lb, give or take, for several years now. This fish just epitomises to me what a big British carp should look like, and one day I will fish for it. I do love the name Colin as well, it has an almost Pythonesque touch to it, after all, what else would you call a carp?
There is of course the lure of even bigger fish, and the opportunity to up my PB will one day come around. For now though, I like to keep my hand in with a few special sessions with friends, normally with some filming or feature work thrown in for good measure. And so it was that I was able to accept a very kind invitation from the guys at RH Fisheries to visit the Sitch, one of their fisheries situated on the Shropshire border. Joining me would be Carl and Alex Smith, of YouTube fame, and the plan was to try and put together a nice carp fishing film and hopefully catch a few fish.
I don’t find carp the most difficult of fish to catch, simply because I am long enough in the tooth to be able to cut through all of the complexity (aka hype) that seems to come with modern carp fishing. Carp are fish, no different to any other, find them, don’t scare them, and get them feeding and you will catch them on the simplest of rigs.
Having visited the Sitch once before I knew that the fish were not too difficult to catch, and with around 450 in 26 acres, there was a decent head of fish to go at, from mid-doubles up to thirty pounds plus.
The Sitch really is a stunning venue, being completely surrounded by mixed woodland and effectively cut-off from the outside world by the dense vegetation. The water is shallow, averaging around 4ft, with hard puddled clay covered by a century’s worth of fine silt, although being well oxygenated the silt is fresh smelling and never very deep.
Some anglers struggle to deal with silt, and the lack of obvious features in silty venues, but on a well-stocked venue you have to remember that the fish will often come to a decent application of bait, if you put it close to them. The liberal application of Monster Squid boilies out towards the middle of the lake was the plan. Feeding 50-100 baits at regular intervals, rather than filling it in from the start.
I use a simple version of the old silt rigs that came to prominence with guys fishing the Shropshire meres back in the day. I suppose the modern equivalent would be the naked chod rig, except that I use a bottom bait or snowman on an 8-inch hooklength, rather than a pop-up. I’m quite happy fishing unfashionable rigs, as long as they catch fish!
The weather was kind for our arrival on the Monday, with pleasant overcast conditions, and no rain, but by Tuesday morning the wind had dropped and the sky was filled with heavy cloud. It was one of those dank days when the rain rarely pours, just steadily falls from the sky. Waders and waterproofs were the order of the day and keeping the inside of the bivvy dry was imperative as mud and dripping water from my waterproofs threatened to soak everything.
The carp though certainly found the conditions to their liking and runs came right through the day, only slowing up at dusk. One fish followed in the early hours of the morning, and then a final flurry of action came after dawn. We packed up around midday on the Wednesday with each of us catching fish, mainly upper doubles, with three twenties, the best a cracking fish of 29lb.
Summer?
Finally, on the 31st of May, it appeared that summer was on the way. A leisurely start on a small well-stocked tench pool in the Midlands was the plan. The tench fed freely for the first hour before the sun came through strong and bright and the fishing took a turn for the worst. I must admit I couldn’t really care less. For the first time this year the sun cream came out of the car and I sat back dozing in the sunshine, drinking coffee and soaking up the warmth like a lizard emerging from a long winter’s hibernation. The odd mayfly searched for a mate, the trout in the lake behind me were rising freely, and the odd dragonfly quartered the reed beds searching for a mate.
Perhaps Summer had arrived right on time?
