It’s been a year, so far, of reflection and evolution on many levels, as I’ve evolved personally so has my fishing, my life in general and angling are so entwined these days, a hobby has become my essence.
At the same time my fishing has never been so challenging and frustrating, so much so it’s causing me to ponder my motives, even my own mortality. The particular piscatorial pool I happen to be paddling around in is searching for leviathan high back crucian carp in vast Scandinavian lakes with maximum predation along with maximum frustration. They’re not only hard to catch, they’re quite rare, with a reward that’s verging on Tantric.
The predation insures the fish reach their maximum size potential if combined with ample natural food, their high backs are reputed to develop as a kind of self defence mechanism, making them harder to swallow. I discovered the crucian carp potential of a local lake by accident a few years ago whilst tench fishing; having limited success in the beginning it sparked me into concentrating my efforts this year.
I’m no specimen hunter, just a pleasure angler really, a lift method martyr since my school days as well as being profoundly inspired by John Wilson in his earlier years, a simple common sense approach, Avon rod for just about everything, centrepin reel, shoulder bag and Conoflex net pole etc. It’s worked for me up to a point, and caused me to shun recent advancements in angling almost militantly, until this year that is.
I’ve never felt so compelled or driven to chase one single species as I do now, I’ve always hedged my bets, medium sized baits, float fished directly on the hook, usually in the margins, fishing for bites and bonus fish as they came along, just enjoying the various ballets of the float. And of course carp fishing, but since leaving the UK it has died a death sadly. Discovering an old adversary from my childhood, only in gigantic proportions, has sparked an angling renaissance, the biggest since old JW relieved me from my Jaguar match rod and a tacky bait waiter. This present revolution is all due to me seeking the wily old crucian carp. Whose pursuit, here at least I’ve likened to the angling equivalent of Russian roulette, each blank session like an empty chamber, adding to the almost unbearable tension and expectation of the next session, until out of the blue, up comes something that totally blows your brains out.
A large crucian is not only a magnificent fish to see up close, but an adversary that’s simply so unpredictable compared to most fresh water fish, he’s indifferent and endlessly frustrating, and for me the later has become part of the fascination and the buzz, a real bone of contention. I am, as I write, in the throes of love affair and a fishing season that’s seen the chamber click round endlessly without any luck, driving me, pushing me to seek and try alternative methods, venturing outside of my usual Stillwater Blue comfort zone.
A Stillwater Blue sits perfectly in a gently rippled pool
I’ve found myself delving in to the vast smorgasbord of modern terminal tackle. Even had me pondering electronic bite alarms and multiple rods, pondering only I might add, usually when I’m sitting on the bog with the Leslie’s catalogue, most of which does sicken me. I’ll always be a minimalist tackle, one rod angler, don’t think I’ll ever buy into the unnecessary accessories lark, or home from home angling and all that. Or the current excesses of the modern bait market, with its extravagance and attention to dietary detail that most wouldn’t make when say packing their own kids lunch boxes.
I’ve started fishing strategically for the first time in my life, can almost taste the bile in my throat as write that, STRATEGIC! Not just causally fishing over hemp willy nilly etc, but consciously trying to empathize, plan and make a concerted effort, goal orientated, those first steps from pleasure angler to specimen fish fixation I suppose. I’ve finally realized and accepted, kind of reluctantly I might add, that a centrepin reel on a Stillwater is a waste of time when all is said and done, if you don’t want to compromise at some point.
I’ve fallen in love with the fixed spool reel again; it’s been a total liberation from the old spinning cilice, I’m really enjoying the flexibility for a change. The biggest learning curve though has been that bolt rigs and hair rigs do not make your fishing automatically easier or unsporting somehow, but it does save you ploughing through endless roach, rudd and big crucian carp.
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| A Nano Bug bobbin |
I seem to have made float fishing obsolete, totally by accident, whilst becoming a reasonably good tench & bream angler, in fact the tench fishing has been spectacular. I’ve found delight in bottom hugging fluorocarbon mainlines, bobbins and bolt rigs, not to mention boilies (hard paste) and even baitrunner reels. So as some aspects of my angling have finally evolved for better or worse, so have I.
The realization that life’s not forever Noel, that there isn’t at nearly forty years old, an infinite amount of summers ahead to squander away, it’s quite a chilling wakeup call, but maybe healthy to embrace, times not to be wasted fishing though sepia Polaroid’s if I want to witness a few more spectacular fish (or at least tench) before the big sleep. Put it this way lifetime guarantees on new tackle are getting considerably shorter, and rudd shit seemingly never ending, something had to give.
I’m stripped bare, no hunching or squinting, I twiddle my thumbs waiting to lean into an already (sometimes) hooked fish, I’m fishing, but am I angling? Then the penny dropped after giving it some thought, the bobbin has replaced the float for me, it’s seemingly just as sensitive, yet mere feet away, so you can choose to add electronics into the equation or to be hands on. Sitting on top of your rod or rods, learning a whole new ballet, that of the bobbin, watching the whole thing unfold, from mere tremors as fins waft the line or lifts an drops, to full blown runs and a clicking baitrunner, reminiscent of centrepin in many ways.
So unless camping out and sleeping why on earth anyone would want anything bleeping away is beyond me, but then who knows maybe I’ll be sitting behind a pair of Delkims one day. Then of course there’s still the matter of general watercraft and location etc. So not much has changed really, not as much as I would have guessed a year or so ago, well apart from my unlucky streak with the crucians.
Whist writing, I must have tempted fate, I caught this nice crucian a few mornings ago on a small inline method feeder & 10mm boilie. Another new method I’m getting to grips with, and a devastatingly effective technique for the pleasure angler, I’m totally sold on those Preston Innovation moulds. And the more I think about it, the most bet hedging I’ve ever done, more lucky dip than being strategic angling.
But most importantly I’m having fun, however uncomfortable or frustrating my compulsion.
Tight lines
William Wyatt
