THE JOY OF FISHING
WITH MARTIN BOWLER
Twenty yards away was a clear area of water that I could reach without crossing floating weed and one that would afford me good presentation without the need for multiple casts.
Normally this approach would require patience, but in May I could rely on the carp’s Achilles heel – greed! I chose to fish a single rod to minimise disturbance. The reel was loaded with fluorocarbon mainline and an E-S-P ready-tied rig on a helicopter set-up would give me perfect presentation.
I fired out 2kg of Sticky
Krill boilies oozing liquid and powdered attractant. With this scent trail and the wind pushing down towards the weed beds I knew the carp wouldn’t be able to resist, and an hour later I had my answer. As the fish found the new larder and their lips pushed into the silt, a cloud of mud rose from the bottom. I knew what to expect next as the bite alarm summoned me to action.
Why I get so excited about a process I’ve gone through thousands of times I don’t know, but I enjoyed every minute of the fight right up until my prize was in the net.
Before I did anything else I picked up another rod, already baited and clipped up, and cast it out to make best use of this feeding opportunity. It was just as well I did, because the moment I got the first golden-scaled beauty inside the weigh sling the alarm once again sang a joyful tune and the line pulled tight.
Two beautiful carp were the perfect way to celebrate May, but her generous nature meant there was more to enjoy the next day.
Tench are the totem fish of this month that I can never ignore, and once the carp had retreated back into their weedy refuge I was on my way north to a Midlands gravel pit. Gardening is popular in May, but before I could get a few hours’ sleep in the van I needed to do my own aquatic version of it. The Canadian pondweed was already dense, and I needed 20 throws of the rake to cut out a strip and expose the gravel. I then baited up with hemp and maggots and left it to stew while I retired to the van.
It was a welcome rest, and being close to the lake I was afforded the beauty of daybreak. I didn’t need to be up with the dawn chorus because I knew that a couple of hours of light were needed to stir the tench – but why miss the sights and sounds of the season?
My tackle revolved around two bolt rig feeders with short hooklengths made up of 3ins of 15lb fluorocarbon to a size 11 Super Specialist hook. A push stop was
attached to the hair and passed through a segment of lobworm before being turned on its side to hold the bait in place.
With a handful of maggots in the feeders and scent oozing out of each end I had little doubt the tench would be attracted. To make doubly sure I’d recast every 45 minutes with an underarm swing.
As I’d predicted, it took until the third cast to get a bite. The reel spool spun and the indicator bounced up and down with such ferocity it could have been a take from a carp of the previous day.
I wasn’t surprised to find out that a male tench was responsible – with its huge fins and angry demeanour, it fought against the tackle until all of its energy was sapped. It was a lovely way to get underway, but I hoped the swim would fill with big yellow-bellied females. I’m an angler who weighs his fish, and these would carry the extra ounces.
In the event, the lake decided to reward me with an equal split, and five male and five female tench provided sport right up to lunchtime. Their beautiful emerald-scaled flanks perfectly matched the lush landscape bathed in dappled sunlight.
At the time I was happy but now, looking back, I appreciate those fish even more. I’ve never taken May for granted and I now know I never will. It’s the best time of all to be an angler and celebrate the natural world.