The auction had been arranged by Lee Swords on behalf of Iwan Clarke, a young lad who had been diagnosed with leukaemia. The disease hadn’t responded to treatment in the UK so the monies raised for the young lad were to contribute to specialist treatment in the USA.
These auctions are an excellent way to raise money; not only do they give us anglers a chance to fish with a well-known angler but they also encourage us to get out of our comfort zone and maybe try something new.
I decided to book a 48 hour trip after tench with Fox tackle consultant, Nate Green. Our e-mail banter beforehand, swapping tall stories and fishy pictures, told me that however the fishing might turn out it would be a lot of fun. Of course, it had nothing to do with the fact that on searching info I found this picture of him and a tench of massive proportions!!!!
In truth, although I’d done a few overnighters on the Severn and the Trent after barbel I had never gone for a long stay session on a river or large reservoir and had always considered them more of a camping holiday. I did, however, have a brolly that had been out of the bag only once in 5 years. I had never needed it for my normal style of fishing, laying-on for tench next to the lily pads, two rod lengths out.
I had managed tench to 9.12 in the past so I had to admit that a chance to fish a place renowned for double figure fish was something of a driving force.
It was a long, long drive from Herefordshire to Kent but I made it in three hours, meeting Nate and his big wide smile exactly on time at 5pm.
We dumped our mountain of tackle in the two swims Nate had suggested and understood then why a wheelbarrow is seen as an essential part of the long stay angler’s gear! I was then taken around part of the lake while he explained the surface indications and bottom features to look out for. By now the excitement was building despite Nate’s explanation that the lakes had fished really hard that season, and that only a few fish had come out; indeed, even he had suffered a string of unsuccessful sessions.
The main baits were to be maggots, corn, worm and the mini strawberry boilies I’d added to my list.
We went through the various rigs that had met with success, helicopter and fixed lead styles that I had seen illustrated many times but had rarely used. Nate’s explanations made good sense. The leads were to be covered with a method-feeder mix and the baited hook, tied to a short link, pushed into the ball and covered method-feeder style.
I had tried my hand at spodding on another charity day with Ian Gemson but with limited success, so I let Nate do the honours. He then took me through the clipping-up and the line-marking process for which Nate had some luminous-pink plasticized stuff – new to me! The rods were my barbel 1.75 Torrix – just about perfect for the fishing we had in mind. I have to say, the approach was far slicker and more professional than this lazy angler normally manages. My swim looked perfect and easy to fish.
Time drifted toward evening. One or two fish would occasionally roll in my swim and the odd patch of bubbles could be seen a little further out, but Nate had noticeably more activity in his swim some fifty yards to my right where he’d set up base camp. The day had been stiflingly hot and the lake dead still so I didn’t really rate our chances; I prefer a nice ripple and moderate temperature.
Nate, meanwhile, had found a female mallard in the bushes and looking slightly worse for wear. Gently he placed it on his lap where it happily munched the maggots and corn he fed it, finally settling down close to the water by Nate’s bed chair.
Without warning and in a flurry of feathers and quacks a gang of mallard drakes came up the bank and ambushed the female, dragging her into the water and proceeding to take turns with her. I lobbed a few well-aimed stones and managed to net her to the side, her head and back dishevelled and bloodied. She was in a sorry state and I put her back safe beside my bed.
Having spiced-up my method-mix with a few broken and whole 10mm strawberry boilies I decided to put one on the hook. I have never used an electric bite alarm, preferring to use my own invention comprising the eye of a size 2 hook pushed into a small length of tubing fitted with a night-light and hooked over the line at the bottom rod ring. I had seen some gentle but very encouraging lifts as darkness approached so I was fired-up for action, and the method made a pleasant change from my usual silver paper / pinch of bread!
Some time close to midnight the indicator lifted, the bait-runner span and I was into a fish! After much thumping around a rather scruffy tench of just over 6lb came to the net – much to Nate’s relief no doubt and certainly to my pleasure.
Around 5am I tried to get some sleep but I simply couldn’t because every time I started to drop off I’d hear the drakes coming back for the female. Throwing stones, shouting and waving the landing net only made for a short break before they came back again! Eventually I dozed off for about twenty minutes only to find her back in the water and being shagged to death. Again I rescued her but I knew she was not far from death; indeed, she expired shortly afterwards – incredibly sad. I hadn’t the heart to despatch her earlier but I wish I had. This, apparently, is not a rare occurrence and the reader might like to Google it. It was quite horrific.
We fished through the next sizzling day with no bites and with just the odd sign of fish feeding and moving. But the birdlife kept the spirits up with a pair of colourful jays going back and forth, a lesser-spotted woodpecker close by, the ear-piercing song of the wren and a hungry juvenile robin keeping me company. Nate had gone heavy with maggots whilst my six pints remained untouched save for bird feeding.
I was still learning, with Nate and me talking about past fishing days and he showing me some stunning fish pictures. He loves perch fishing with lures and has caught some beauties and I suggest you search him out on Facebook and get some tips; you might even be able to arrange a day out fishing with him if you are lucky.
As my last night fell, a stunning sunset bathed the skyline and I hoped that another fish might come my way.
Midnight came, and the night-lights had been replaced on the bobbins. They hung without a trace of movement, then zzzzz!!! The bait-runner fizzed and I was into another fish, this time a good-looking tench just short of 7lb that gave a good account of itself, again caught on the boilie.
The same thing happened an hour or so later but this time a seriously stubborn fish had me thinking …maybe…maybe….. my legs started to tremble! I was gaining and losing a yard or so and then I felt a series of short, powerful bursts. Nate hovered by my side and ventured that it might be an eel….it was.
I let Nate net it, unhook it, wrestle with it, pose with it, photograph it, and get bitten by it. “It’s a specimen!” he enthused, “around three and a half pounds!”
“Good” I said….throw it back.
Later he cleaned my net.
There the action ended. I fished until 9am and reluctantly packed up, tired after just a few hour’s kip. Nate fished on without any joy; it had certainly been tough and this was confirmed by reports from the bailiff of only one other fish on the complex being caught.
Nate could not have tried harder and although the title of this article jokingly refers to camping, I’ve come to the conclusion that these guys put in lots more effort and time than other Fishers of the Angle – me included!
Graham Elliott
Copyright Graham Elliott 2016
