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Pilgrim’s Progress

May 2, 2002

The Reverend Stewart Bloor, perhaps better known as Sedge in the pages of FISHINGmagic, is an ordained Minister and Director of the Sedgley International Christian Ministries.

He is also a very keen angler, having come back to the sport in 1995 following a break of several years. In this regular column he will tell us about his progress as an angler – his thoughts about the sport, what he learns, the fishing trips he makes, the anguish, the humour, in fact everything he experiences as his angling career develops.

GO SOUTH, YOUNG MAN

In my pursuit of bream I’ve taken out an RMC Spring ticket that allows me to fish Kingsmead, one of a number of gravel pits found close to the M25 in Berkshire. So, for my first session, I loaded the car with all the necessary gear and set off ‘darn sarf’, as they say! As for the ‘young man’ part of the title, no I haven’t been taking advice from Brian Clough. This was to be my last fishing session as a thirty-something. The Big Four-O was less than a week away.

Kingsmead gravel pit, but will it be kind to me over the next few months?

Checking out the road map prior to my visit, I found out that I was literally fishing down the road from Staines. Now, I must be honest and say I’m not that ‘hip’ (do they use that word nowadays?) but I do know that Staines is the home of none other than Ali G. So, to increase my credibility amongst today’s youth, perhaps I should say right at the start of this article, I was going to spend three nights ‘in da bivvie’ and I was hoping to catch me a ‘massiv’ bream. Apart from that I don’t know any more Ali-speak, so I’ll quit while I’m ahead! Hang on though, doesn’t he say ‘float like a butterfly, sting like a….’ Oops, sorry, wrong Ali!

Although I live near Wolverhampton, the journey into Royal Berkshire only took a little over two hours due to the fact that most of it was conducted by motorway. I literally cruised along – until I reached Europe’s largest car park that is. Yes, I’m referring to the M25! Sir or Madam, if you have to travel that highway during peak times every day – I salute you. Mind there’s one thing – the patience you will develop will help you no end if you decide to become a specialist angler in pursuit of big bream or carp!

Arriving at the venue, I was impressed with the serenity of the lake and the surrounding area, which is not built-up at all. It was so quiet. Even though London was literally down the road, and the busy M25 was only a few minutes away by car, the only sound to threaten the silence was the singing of the birds. As I basked in the tranquillity, suddenly my peaceful world was shattered in two as a jumbo jet, which appeared from nowhere, threatened to decapitate me!

Then, in an instant, I recalled what Neil Wayte had said to me about Kingsmead. Something about being on the flight path for Heathrow, he said. Actually, as I discovered during the session, it was more like the runway! Some of the planes were so low you could almost see the whites of the pilots’ eyes! With planes taking off constantly from early in the morning until late at night, I considered investing in a double glazed bivvy.

Groundbait mix: What self-respecting bream could resist this concoction?

Anyway, less of this pre-amble banter. How did the fishing go? The swim I elected to fish was devoid of features such as bars (I spent some time casting out with a marker float), so I chose to fish one rod out into open water at about 60 metres and the other rod fairly close in. I baited up well with hemp, corn, dead maggots and boilies, these being catapulted out, with brown crumb as the carrier.

I arrived at the pit mid-afternoon so I had plenty of time to set up and get ready for the evening. As daylight gave way to dusk, I scoured the water for signs of fish rolling – preferably over my baited areas. Although the odd fish did show itself, generally the action above the surface was very quiet. But what would it be like beneath the surface, which after all, is what it’s all about? Well, let me say, I managed to get a very good night’s sleep. In other words, my bobbins didn’t budge!

Local anglers fishing overnighters had occupied the two pegs next to me. As they left to go to work, a quick chat informed me that they too had blanked. I certainly am not one of those people who gets satisfaction in bringing people down to my level, as it were. But in angling terms, when you realise that you weren’t the only one that failed to catch, it does bring a degree of comfort. At least you know it wasn’t just you! I find that by comparing catches one begins to get a good picture of your own ‘performance’.

The first full day on Kingsmead proved to be sunbather’s paradise! After quite a chilly night, I stripped down to my Wolves top, moved my bedchair out of the bivvy and stretched out, basking in the powerful rays that radiated from the sun. As the mid-April temperatures soared to an above average 16/17 degrees, combined with no breeze at all, the day had the feel of summer about it. However, it wasn’t really what I was after. As I looked at the pit, the mirror-like appearance of the water, with not even a hint of a ripple, was the kiss of death as far as bream are concerned.

Still, as day one came to an end, I looked forward to night number two. About an hour or so into dark, the buzzer on my open water rod came alive. As line peeled off slowly, I struck. I certainly wasn’t greeted with the lifeless lump of a big bream, or even a big carp, which of course is what the majority of anglers fish Kingsmead for. As I reeled in, I found that I had caught an eel. As I got into my sleeping bag that night I was covered in slime, but not the slime that comes with catching a nice bream!

The first fish of the session

Day two was very much the same as the first, although there was a nice breeze that blew across the water. I did have two runs during the day, but I had the feeling they were eels. But whatever they were, I didn’t connect as I struck. But at least I had that wonderful thrill of the buzzer emitting the sound we all like to hear…beeep…beeeeep…beeeeeeeeeep.

As the day came to an end, a bearded face suddenly appearing in the door of my bivvy startled me. It was Neil Wayte! We have been corresponding via e-mail for over a year now, as for some time I’ve been intending to fish Kingsmead. (I like to plan my campaigns well ahead!). So it was nice to meet him in the flesh. We had a good chat for a couple of hours and then Neil went on his way and I settled down for night number three.

Again, as the night before, an hour or so into dark and my open water rod is connected with a fish. It was a definite case of d