Lured into Lure Fishing – Part 6

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You Reap What You Sow

After experiencing a near miss on my last trip (see links below) Icouldn’t wait to return to Blithfield. Due to the near constant rainbuilding up to my last visit, from a fishing point of view the triphad been a total washout. The chocolate coloured water had meant lurefishing was almost a waste of time. I say almost as I did have a takefrom a good fish and one or two of the big girls did show. But thefishing, for me, was generally poor.

However, my boat partner Eric and I had decided to turn the poorconditions of the first two days in our favour and had purposelycovered as much water as possible during what we felt would be anunproductive trip. By using an echo sounder we were able to map outthe lake contours and take mental notes of any areas we particularlyfancied to produce fish. This meant that when conditions werefavourable we would have a good idea of which areas to try ratherthan waste a day in good conditions scouting around.

Still more rain

Disappointingly the heavy rainfall had continued since our lastvisit, albeit not as heavy as previous weeks but it was enough tokeep the water clarity poor. Upon arrival though it was soon apparentthat instead of the few inches of visibility offered on our lastvisit, a lure could be seen for at least a couple of feet whichalthough not ideal was a definite improvement.

We started in the area adjacent to the causeway where I had lost afish some weeks earlier, Eric working one of his new ‘rubbers’ whilstI obviously started on the lure which I had my only action – theorange bulldawg.

The day started slowly, not just for us but for everyone with verylittle being reported on the grapevine. Eventually rumour of athirty-pound fish reached us around lunchtime just as my enthusiasmwas starting to flag. The constant casting and retrieving wasbeginning to get to me but it is amazing how the spirit can be liftedby news of a big fish and suddenly I was working the water withrenewed vigour.

We spotted a few trout

After fishing the Southern end of the lake for most of the day wepassed under the roadbridge and headed into the quieter area North ofthe causeway. The water here is much shallower and we anchored upabove a slightly deeper channel in the main body of the lake createdby the River Blythe, which still runs through the length of theReservoir. Whilst fishing this area we spotted a few trout rising ina shallow bay in the Western arm hoping that trout activity wouldattract a few predators we drifted through the bay working our luresthrough the shallow water. I was using a ‘dolphin’ shaped jerkbaitcalled a ‘Thin Lizzie’ when my heart condition was severely tested bya kamikaze Rainbow Trout which hit the lure with enough ferocity tomake me think ‘Pike’. It soon became apparent that this was not thecase as a spirited fish of around 5lb repeatedly tailwalked and rantowards me faster than I could crank my multiplier as I attempted tostay in contact.

And then the weather took a turn for the worse

After this the weather took another turn for the worse and I wasglad of my Gore-Tex suit as the wind got up the rain began to fallsteadily. Despite this we continued to work hard, in fact very hardin an attempt to get just the once chance that would make all theeffort worthwhile. As dusk approached we slowly made our way back tothe boathouse, to make the most of every last minute we worked twolures behind the boat trolling slowly up the reservoirs west bank. Aswe neared the southern extreme of the lake we spotted an anglerphotographing a good fish, as it turned out this was taken by an oldfriend that I hadn’t crossed paths with for many years. Also he and afew other friends were all stopping in the same village pub as us, soas we unloaded our boat that evening we knew we were in for a goodnight.

Confidence with news of a 31-pounder

That evening the drinks flowed freely and with it the confidencebegan to climb, that last ditch fish had weighed in at over 31lbs andit had come as a huge confidence booster at a time when the vastmajority of anglers had experienced their third consecutive blank -me included. All plans were for an early night to ensure a clear headthe following morning but as I stumbled upstairs at 2am I realisedthe curse of the pike angler had struck again. If you get a group ofpike anglers, mixed with a two-day session and copious amounts ofbeer you get some of the tallest stories, biggest tales of woe andsome of the most amazing pike catching theories you could imagine.And this evening was no exception.

We tried everything

The following morning saw us going through the ritual of affixingthe echo sounder and checking the anchor ropes in the pouring rain -at least it cleared my head. The wind continued to blow hard all dayand once again we went through the full repertoire of tricks. Wefished heavy lures slow and deep, shallow lures just sub-surface, wefished anchored up and we drifted along various features slowed downby a drogue. Spinnerbaits, bulldawgs, dolphins and burts were alltried over and over again. Each time a new lure was clipped to thetrace another little ray of hope emerged to be quickly dampened bythe cold wind that was now blowing across the 800-acre water.

And then we turned to trolling

The wind seemed to be getting colder by the minute, one of thosebiting North-Westerlies that pierce through several layers ofclothing, biting your cheeks and causing tears to continually streamdown your face. By late afternoon the pain in our hands was so bad wecould hardly feel our fingers and we decided to spend the last coupleof hours trolling in the vain hope that the circulation would returnto our hands.

We both chose a Rapala ‘Super Shad Rap’, me in the perch patternEric favouring one with that many toothmarks it was difficult to seewhat its original pattern was. However just because we had decided totroll it didn’t mean we had called it a day, far from it. Don’t befooled into thinking that trolling involves nothing more thantrailing a lump of plastic behind a boat. No, whatever the method itshould be done properly and it takes quite a bit of trial and errorto ensure your bait is working at precisely the depth yourequire.

As it was so cold we both wanted to work our lures as slow and asclose to the bottom as possible. So various amounts of line were paidout and the speed of troll was constantly adjusted until we couldfeel the diving vane on the shad rap touching the gravel bottom atregular intervals. By feeling for the lure tripping bottom throughthe sensitive braid and by closely monitoring the echo sounder wecould see that out lures were working at a consistent 10-11ft deep.By following the lakes contour (achieved by keeping a constant 11-fton the sounder) we could be sure our baits were constantly workingvery close to the bottom. The idea being that if we bounced a lureright past the nose of one of the big girls it might just wake herfrom her temperature induced slumber.

The down side of this is that you need to retrieve your lure quiteregularly to remove any weed that it picks up as it scrapes the lakesbed. It may be easier to place the rod in a rest and await a take butboth Eric and I chose to hold the rod at all times, the reason forthis being twofold. Firstly the gentle vibration of the lure could befelt through the rod, ensuring confidence that the lure was workingeffectively. If it picked up even the smallest amount of weed thiscould be felt instantly as the vibration ‘dulled’, it was then asimple case of quickly winding in the lure, removing the offendingweed and getting a clean bait back out. Secondly in my experiencepike, and particularly trout water pike, have a habit of taking alure or bait very gently and if something did decide to sample my’plastic perch’ I was going to hit it – hard.

An then it happened

When it happened it took me completely by surprise. One minute Iwas sat hunched in the boat, watching the gentle throbbing of the rodtip the next minute I was playing a large fish with Eric hastilyassembling the net. I can however still remember the take vividly andthe ensuing fight. As we were exiting one of the many bays on thewestern bank the tip of my rod had slowly pulled round before kickingonce. In the same second I struck hard and the small lure rodinstantly hooped over. The fight was dour and unspectacular; shestayed deep as I slowly gained line. After just a couple of minutesshe surfaced for a couple of seconds just out of range before divingdeep, this was just long enough for me to see her immense girth andthe single prong of my lower treble neatly nicked into the apex ofher lower jaw. Heavy braid and a light hookhold can be a recipe fordisaster but as there was no anchor rope to worry about I rapidlyslackened off the clutch and let the rod take the bulk of the strainas she made a couple of short deep runs.

“What’s your PB Gary?”

Eric, who has seen many big fish grace his net was slightly calmerthan me and, as I played the fish he asked me “what is your PBGary?”

“I’ll tell you in a minute” I replied before we both burst intolaughter. Why I laughed I don’t know, I wasn’t happy – I just wantedthe thing in the net.

When she passed over the cord the relief was, as ever overwhelmingand I punched the air as we lifted her in the boat for unhooking.

What would have been a difficult task was made simple by the boltcroppers I had bought just for my lure fishing but which I will nownever be without for any of my piking. I just cut through the treblein the fish’s jaw and those points which were now entangled in themesh. The lure simply fell away.

You reap what you sow

I am a firm believer that although luck plays a part in anycapture ultimately you reap what you sow in this world and eventuallyif you put in the effort and hard work you will, in time, berewarded. The scales told their story and at 31lb 8oz all the hardwork, expense and heartbreak were forgotten in one of thoseunforgettable moments in an angler’s life.