TEEING OFF………
Luke Gray
Whitescale at 43.09
For the past season or so, I’ve been fishing a small syndicate on a private golf course. Although I’d been lucky enough to have some success the previous season, I still wasn’t happy with the bait I’d been using and found myself constantly chopping and changing. A good mate of mine who has been with Tails-Up for the past six or seven years asked me to have a look at some bait he’d been given to try out.
The next day he popped round with a kilo each of two different baits and a few tubs of pop-ups. After having a sniff (and taster), one of them really appealed to me. You know when you just smell a bait and instantly thoughts of all the different waters you think it would work flood through your head. Straight away my little syndicate came to mind.
Within half hour of chatting and sampling, I was convinced this bait was the one. It reminded me of a bait I’d used in the past and had had good success on, but for various reasons could no longer get hold of the it.
Another mate of mine, Dan, had also been umming and arring about his bait. He rang me up and asked me if I fancied a cheeky one down the local pub. With the conversation flowing as well as the pints, the talk soon edged its way onto bait and plans for the little syndicate. Smiling, I pulled a little freezer bag of boillies out my pocket and threw them onto his lap. Dan sniffed one, broke it open then popped it into his mouth …they’re alright mate. We chatted about the bait and decided to team up in an effort to share the work load.
I asked Dave if he could sort out a price for 35 kilos, and within a week I had the freezer brimming with the little red devils, ready and waiting for my pre-baiting campaign. I had two months of preparation before being able to wet a line and hopefully get amongst them! One thing I did know, was that baiting up was going to be a mare! The lake itself isn’t very deep and the birds can quite easily reach the bottom, and it can often be very frustrating watching the birds wipe you out once you’ve finished baiting. I tried getting around it by giving them plenty of bread or going up late at night while they were asleep.
Over the following two months we managed to empty the freezer of all its contents (plus a few cheeky bits from Dave), over two areas on the lake. Although there’s a draw for the swims a week or so before the start, I’d taken a chance and decided to concentrate on the area in front of the car park. It’s a fairly neglected area and felt sure I’d have good chance of getting that swim no matter how low I came out the hat. It’s a funny little swim, very shallow out to about 35 yards and much of the water is shared with a swim to the left known as the ‘lonely’. The lonely was a banker for one of the first swims to go as it commands such a large amount of the open water.
Not letting this put me off, I cracked on with the baiting, which itself was beginning to become a chore. The driving up there most days was fine, but the birds were becoming a real problem and I wasn’t sure how much bait the fish were actually seeing.
The swans had decided to take a ‘we won’t leave until the jobs done’ approach, and often I found myself (like many other anglers im sure) cursing the dopey bastards, and thoughts of strangling them or overdosing them on sleeping pills ran through my head many a time. Of course I would never have done anything like that, as they’ve got every right to try and survive like the rest of us.
Although they had learnt where the pre-baited areas were, I soon learnt roughly when they would call it a night and decided to plan my baiting around these times. If they were gona clear me out in the days, then at least the carp could get a look in at night!
As time went on, my confidence just grew. I was putting roughly a kilo of bait out every day or so, and on a couple of occasions the carp were on it big time. This continued until the day of the draw, me being me I was running late! The phone rang; it was Dave, ‘Where are you mate? You’re seventh out the hat! What swim you want?’ Praying that the car park was free, I asked what swims were left …’the single, the car park …’ interrupting I shouted, ‘Yea, yea, the car park’, touch! One of the last ones out the hat and I get the swim I wanted.
The night before the start me, Dan, Dave and Steve got settled in our swims ready for the off. Like the previous season we all knew how to have a social. The beer was flowing and all those carp stories we’d heard from Steve in the past were coming out again. Steve’s been around for while and the way he tells his stories you don’t mind having another listen. Once beer’ed and storied out, everyone drifted off to their swims for the night, in anticipation for an early morning start.
After slipping Mary back at a British record 67lb I turned to acknowledge the gathering crowd and for some reason Dave was chanting? ‘Luke …Luke …Luke…’ My smile soon turned into a puzzled frown as I could feel myself being violently shaken and rudely awoken by Dave. People who know Dave will understand but for those who don’t well, he kinder doesn’t know his own strength. I hold my breath trying to firm one of his killer handshakes, so what felt like someone throwing me around the bivvy was actually one of Dave’s wake up calls. The thought of drifting back to sleep soon slipped my mind when Dave placed a cup of the good stuff into my hands (morning teas are always the best!). Realizing we only had 45minutes, excitement got the better of me and I was in my tackle box like a shot!
With all the bait we’d put out during the close I made the decision to fish 3bait stringers on two of the rods and a counter balanced pop-up on the third. What with the swans being a nuisance I felt it would also attract less attention to my spots. Sticking two fingers up at the swans I cast two baits either side of the pre-baited area. Still not sure what to do with my third rod, I decided to sit down and get the kettle on. There was no rush to get the third rod out and pretty confident with the two on the spots, it was just a matter of waiting. Whilst sipping what felt like my 80th cup of tea, something showed up to the left towards the 17th tee. 20 seconds later it showed again. This put me in a bit of a dilemma as there was meant to be someone turning up to fish the lonely, and the fish was well in his water. This dilemma lasted all of 10 seconds, before picking up the rod, attaching a 3-bait stringer and tossing it the 70yards or so to where the fish had shown. Well ….it would have been bad angling not to, wouldn’t it?!
A couple of hours had passed and I found myself scratching. Dave and me had both seen fish in the area, and we couldn’t believe it hadn’t gone. It was really frustrating as the whole previous week they’d been munching like there was no tomorrow, so why not now?
Another couple of hours had again passed, and I could wait no longer. I’d been bursting for a piss for ages, but with all the fish activity it made it difficult to go. It had gone a bit quieter and fish had started showing on one of Dave’s spots, making the most of the quiet spell I shouted over for him to keep a listen out for my buzzers, whilst running like a headless chicken to the other side of the car park to relieve myself. Many of you can relate to what was about to happen (im convinced they were watching me), mid-flow …’BLEEEEEE …SHIT!!’. Refusing to run back amongst the golfers with my combats around my ankles, I shouted over to Dave to hit it. Legging it back still fighting with my top button, I grabbed the rod off a hysterical Dave and pulled into a solid fish. It wasn’t doing much, just hugging the bottom. Then at about 35 yards out it’s back popped up. Not wanting to jinx anything, we looked at each other and didn’t say a word. Still laughing, Dave stripped off, grabbed the net and made his way out to a decent depth of water. It wasn’t much of a fight, no complaints from me though as I just wanted it in the net. He did the honors, then turned to me with a big grin on his face and said ‘you know what it is don’t you?’ I smiled back and replied ‘how does she look?’ he answered with ‘F**king massive mate!’ Having seen all the commotion, Steve shouted over from the other side of the pond ‘what is it then?’ Dave shouted back ‘White scale …and she’s looking fat!’ quickly skipping his rods in, he made his way round. Although I’d had this fish last year, I was still well made up to see her in the bottom of my net again. While Dave did his best Steven Spielberg impression, me and Steve popped her up on the scales. She wasn’t as big as we all thought, but at 43.09 it was a new PB and I was obviously well chuffed.
After the pictures were all sorted we slipped her back safely and cracked open a well earned beer. A couple more beers later and we were back in our little green homes all hoping that the capture of White scale might have spurred the other fish on?
It wasn’t to be, and when I opened my eyes to turn my phone alarm off in the morning I was a bit shocked. I really was expecting somebody to be shaking me in the night to tell me they had one in the net. It was about 5.30am and I was just putting my trainers on when my right hand rod burst into life. Stumbling forward, I lifted into what felt like a bream. It did nothing all the way in, and was pleasantly surprised when a carps head popped up 10 yards out. It was obviously an early wake up call for him too, as it didn’t realize what was going on until it was in the net. It was a familiar face, a fish known as the sheep walk mirror. I had to wait a minute or so, while she calmed down, then secured the net and walked round to get Dave for the piccies. When I told him I had another one in the net, he sarcastically turned to me and said ‘I thought they don’t come out in the days?’ (I should just mention here that him and me have had contrasting success, with him only catching in the days and me at night!) Returning the sarcasm I replied ‘they don’t!’ We weighed her at just under 20lb and again put a smile on my face, as it was my first carp out the lake; although small it was nice to see it again. Once the pictures were done, we put the kettle on for a morning brew.
Nothing happened for the rest of the day, they were very active but they weren’t having any of it, they just didn’t want to know. As the previous night, it went by very quiet. The following morning, Dave called me to say he had one of the grassies in the net. It didn’t look too good, so we quickly sorted the pictures out then slipped her back. I could see he was a bit annoyed, but having fish all over one of my spots for 2½ days and just a grassy to show for it would annoy me as well.
Lying on my bed chair reading some old fishing mags, I heard a shout from Dan to Steve for some help. I looked up to see Dan bent into what looked like a good fish. The rods were soon clipped up and I made the walk round, camera in hand ready to pile some more pressure on Dan. Just as Dave turned up she was in the net. Steve had said to Dan that it was Clanger, so without checking Dan gave the shout ‘…CLANGERRR’, as he lifted the net we all suddenly realized that it wasn’t Clanger, but another fish known as Polo. Dan soon clocked on and shouted ‘sorry …POLOOO’
We all cracked up, the funniest thing was, we were all in his swim, but letting the golfers know seemed to please Dan. We weighed her at 38.02 a real creamy looking fish and one of the characters of the lake. It was a new PB and he was well chuffed!
Everyone had plans to leave the lake to get down for the opening day at Richmond Park. I knew I wasn’t going so contemplated a move. Before Dan left he managed to bag a couple more, a small common around 16lb and a mirror known as One-Scale.
With fish still evident, it was clear that they had moved into Gooseshit’s water and with Dan having three of the five that had been out I just had to move. Looking out from the swim, the bar is approximately 90 yards directly in front of you. The 18th hole is to your left, and the social bank is to the right of the bar. As you look over to the bar, there are two big lights which light up the lake like a Christmas tree, also giving me two markers to put baits to.
The rods had been out about four hours, when again frustration began to set in at not getting a touch or even seeing fish activity. Looking across to the bar, I couldn’t help but notice that a few of the barmaids were on their break. Maybe it’s just me, but being at the lake for a few days in the heat has a funny effect on a mans hormones. Discussing with my little friend JT (John Thomas) for all of 5 seconds, he convinced me to skip my rods in and go round for a quick pint. After getting my drink, I went and sat on the patio a couple of tables up from the girls. I wasn’t there long, when there was a tap on my shoulder, ‘hiya’, it was Laura. Now I should just mention here that whilst pre-baiting in the close, and the first few days of the start, me and Dave had slowly got chatting ( and flirting) with a few of the barmaids, and although he wont admit it, im sure it was no coincidence that he was set-up about 20 yards from the bar! As romantic as it was, we chatted about anything and everything we could think of. Whilst trying to get the conversation flowing on to a subject that we could both relate to, Clanger dolphined out, right in front of us. It was exactly where I’d had my middle rod. Looking shocked, she turned and said, ‘that was a big fish!’. My (attempted) smooth talking voice soon turned into an agitated, got to get back to my swim right now voice. Speeding the chit chat up, ‘erm …yeh, so what time you on your break tomorrow? (Leaving no time for an answer) Ok, great see you tomorrow then, bye!’. Leaving the beer, I sprinted back cursing myself for giving in to my hormonal desire for a pint. Using my pint glass on the patio table as a marker I cast a bait to the fish. More than happy with the rod, I sorted the other two out. Sitting back I couldn’t take my eyes off the area. Surely it just had to go. Just over an hour had passed and still not a bleep. Feeling that I’d blown my chance and still frustrated at me giving in to the pub and not expecting a take I passed out. I can’t remember what happened between me falling asleep and me standing with my middle rod in my hand, I seemed to have woken up playing a fish? Adrenalin soon kicked in and I started to gain control. It had kited 60 yards to my right and wanted more. I pulled hard to turn its head, only this time it powered back to the spot, then to the 18th hole. Just as I was forcing my second leg into the waders, she gave up. Wading out with the net and slowly gaining line. Pulling the fish closer, clanger soon appeared …Yesss! After getting her safely in the sack, I made a few calls to get some pictures sorted. Only Dan and Steve answered. Dan jumped straight in the car and made his way down, and Steve said he’d be down at 6am. Within no time, Dan turned up with the beers. Putting them aside he helped me with the weighing. At 40.12 it was my second forty in three days. I felt like a five year old who’d just got the present he’d always wanted, it’s amazing what a big fish can do to a bloke.
What seemed like ten minutes since we’d spoke, Steve turned up camera at the ready anxious to see the fish he’d been after for so long (sorry, had to rub it in mate). Carefully sliding the sack off her and revealing what can only be described as breathtaking, our mouths dropped. Sacking her had really calmed the fish down, and the true colours of this beautiful fish we’re at their very best. Steve and Dan did their bit of magic with the cameras before helping me return her back home. Congratulating me on the fish, Steve said ‘you might as well go home now!’ Holding back a smile ‘Na, there’s still a few left yet’, and besides I still had a few days left off work and wasn’t going to waste them. Thanking them both for their help they left, leaving me with all their empty beer cans to clear up.
Feeling exhausted and needing some sleep. I decided to get my head down. Dozing off, I heard a fish bosh, getting back out of the bag I could see it was tight to the 18th green. But it was so shallow that surely it couldn’t have been a fish? Expecting a tuffty to show it did it again, it was a fish. Skipping in the left hand rod and grabbing a handful of bait, I decided to cast onto the green, walk round and place the bait tight to the edge. Checking for no golfers, I cast across, ran round and crawled like it was an SAS mission not to disturb the carp. Peering over the edge, I could see two fish. One was ‘Breamy’ the big common and to my surprise the other fish was Whitescale. She was mouthing on one of the stumps that supports the 18th green. Having caught her only a few days previously, I really didn’t want to put any more stress on the poor girl, but Breamy’s head was so far into the silt, I just had to get a bait down there. Using a stick I’d found by the green I placed the rig and a small bag past Whitescale and into the cloud of silt. He looked so hungry you could imagine the sound of pig noises while he ate. Shaking with excitement I sprinted back to my swim to set the bobbin and clip up. Once the rod was sorted, I put the kettle on to take my mind off the fish. Feeling shattered I dozed off before even finishing my tea.
The next thing I knew, the Breamy rod was away. Half asleep and stumbling towards the rod, I somehow managed to kick the remainder of my tea (and mug) into the lake. Picking up the rod, the fish was already kiting hard to the right. Slowing the clutch down to gain some control, she plodded back to the 18th and started to hug the bottom. It was like deja vou, identical to when I had clanger a few hours earlier. After 10 mins of mucking about and a few hairy moments with the leadcore pinging off the dorsal (I hate that!), she was in the net. A quick look to confirm it was Breamy and that smile started to appear again! Weighing in at 25.10 it wasn’t a massive fish, but it’s the lakes biggest common, can’t be bad!
Looking out across the lake I noticed an angler had set-up in the lonely, he must have turned up the night before. I ran round to ask if he could take some pictures for me. Kindly he reeled his rods in and we made our way back round. Whilst walking back, he proceeded to tell me that he couldn’t get down for the start because of a holiday. He’d rang Steve Henry (Head Baliff) for an update, telling him that a few had been out but didn’t know which ones. As I was filling him in on who’d caught what, the guy’s temper was showing more and more. Each time I named a fish that had been out he replied with, ‘Naaah…’, as I continued he angrily said, ‘So there’s one left?’. Not wanting to piss the guy off any more, I mumbled under my breath, ‘erm …I kinda …erm, had that early this morning’. ‘You what? …. So all three have been out?’ ‘Erm …yea’. Don’t know why, but whenever I’m in an awkward situation I tend not to say much, just agree with one-word answers. With the guy still cursing his stupid holiday (how he put it) and feeling like I’d done something wrong we continued back to my swim, silently praying to god that he wouldn’t bugger the pictures up? After getting the pictures sorted and the fish back, I offered him a cup of tea as a thanks for helping out, looking annoyed he said, ‘Nah, I’m alright mate …well done!’ and just left. The poor fella was obviously pissed off, I felt for him. Especially as he’d done all the work party’s in the close.
For the next two hours my phone didn’t stop ringing, it doesn’t matter how many times you tell it, but you never get board of repeating a successful session. Another story to tell on those freezing social nights through the winter! Eventually turning the phone off for some peace and time to myself to take in all that had happened. There were a few things I needed to sort out at home and was running out of tea bags, so decided to pack up.
Pulling out the Car Park id noticed matey from the Lonely had gone, I imagined him doing well over 100mph home still cursing the holiday he so wish he never booked!
On the way back I dropped into Dave’s to catch up on his few days down Richmond. Stepping through his door, greeting me with that handshake he said, ‘so you like the bait then?!’, with a slight grin ‘erm …its alright!’ |
