INSIDE THIS WEEK
BRITAIN’S MOST TRUSTED VOICE IN FISHING
“They’ve finally woken up!” Martin Bowler takes us on a tench fishing adventure to remember
OMINOUS storm-laden clouds swept across a darkening, leaden sky. The 30 nights of frosts at the start of spring had morphed into 30 days of rain and now, soaked as I was, I almost wished for a return of the cold weather.
Propped against an old stone pillar, I watched my carp rod and asked myself why I was willing to endure the elements.
Social media plays a big role in my job and angling is my livelihood, but if it all ended tomorrow you’d still find me
fishing, come rain or shine. It’s been my life for so long, and my enthusiasm for the sport has never dimmed.
I’ve fished for an obscene amount of time, but not once have I been bored. My secret is simple – variety.
There are so many venues to visit, species to target and tactics to try that 10 lifetimes, let alone just one, would barely scratch the surface.
So, as the rain dripped off my hood and the fish kept their distance, I was already planning my next adventure. By the time I’d stowed the wet tackle in the back of the van I knew where I was going next.
The weather remained unrelentingly awful and a night under the brolly was spent listening to the rain. I should have caught and I hadn’t, and I should have moved on but I didn’t. Instead I sat tight in my swim as a new day dawned.
Bedchair life can bring its
rewards, but the temptation is always to wait for the fish to come to you rather than to actively seek them out.
This morning was a perfect example, with signs of carp feeding in a couple of other areas and me convincing myself for two wasted hours that if I was patient the fish would ultimately move over my baited spot.
When the dark clouds finally broke I took it as my cue to put most of my tackle back in the van, leaving me hands-free to move speedily. I was happy to be hunting and no longer a bankside couch potato.
By now the initial signs of feeding had faded away, so I waited patiently to make a cast, constantly walking the bank and scanning the lake. When I spied a patch of coloured water I was in position inside a minute.
If you find the fish feeding there’s no reason to overcomplicate matters. For my roving approach an E-S-P readytied rig suited me perfectly, in this instance a size 6 Gripper combi rig. Attached to the hair was a Sticky Krill Tuff One hookbait, and with that I was ready to cast out a set-up good enough to fool any carp in the land! If that sounds too easy for you, fair enough, but I was happy as the rig sank into the stirred sediment and the lead landed on firm ground.
I was feeling so confident that I saw no need for a second rod, which would only have compromised my stealthy approach. With the bobbin clipped on, I finally got to enjoy the more mellow side of spring. Songbirds could once again be heard over the whistling wind, and wild garlic flowers turned their little white faces to the sun. My alarm soon sang too, drumming out a hurried rhythm worthy of any woodpecker.
“This,” I thought, “is what fishing is all about!” Strangely enough, the carp on the end of my line didn’t share my views and tried to vent its displeasure by diving into a weedbed, but my landing net was ready and waiting to thwart its plans.
The chunky bronze mirror put a smile on my face and a couple of hours later, with a second carp under my belt, I was content to call it a day. It was time for a new mission.
“I was happy to be hunting and no longer a bankside couch potato”
The tench is the totem of spring, and my next early alarm call saw me heading to a gravel pit in the hope of doing battle with a few plump tincas.
It would be lovely to always floatfish for them but that isn’t always possible – indeed, today even a feeder wouldn’t reach them. A fresh wind was blowing into my face, and if I was to achieve a 70-yard chuck to a clear spot I needed to adapt.
My 2.25lb test curve rods were just about up to it, and 15lb line was certainly not too heavy. The rig I chose needed to offer the benefits of a short hooklength/ bolt rig feeder combo while still casting a long way, so I was using a 3oz inline lead.
A double ring Uni-Link swivel was attached to a 3ins hooklength of 12lb fluorocarbon ending in a size 12 hook. The second ring was an anchor point for a PVA mesh bag of maggots, with the hook nicked into the tag of the bottom knot.
I could now reach my chosen spot and still fish effectively, and once I’d cast out my two rigs I Spombed over the zone a dozen times with a couple of pints more of maggots.
Line bites were almost immediate as a shoal of tench moved in on the disturbance.
With each lift of the bobbin I knew a proper bite was imminent, then the reel spool spun to tell me the trap had been sprung. This tench, like the carp of my earlier trip, hoped the weed would intervene to avoid it having its picture taken with me but the hook held firm all the way to the net.
It was to be a busy morning, with beautiful plump fish in their emerald green livery falling to my inline lead set-ups. They were addicted to maggots and I was happy to feed them their fix. As quickly as I Spombed in the grubs they ate every one, but for some there was a price to pay if they wished to fill their big yellow bellies.
It was a wonderful morning, but it might surprise you to learn that I had no interest in repeating the process on my next adventure. Fishing, like the sweets of childhood, is best enjoyed as pick and mix!