As I set the rig to the correct depth, in this case just an inch over, a golden flank rolled a little behind where I had fed. You couldn’t ask for a more positive indication. Definitely fish in the area. But what were the fish I was attempting to catch? Well, quite honestly, I was happy with anything. Today was just a few hours fishing on the float with no great concern about what came along. I hoped maybe some brown goldfish, crucians and tench would featue. Maybe a small carp or two. There was the outside chance of a grass carp if I was really lucky. One thing was for sure, I was looking forward to wiling away some time and getting lost amongst the ripples.
I had fed the swim with a mixture of small pellets and some corn. The pungent fishy aroma of the pellets and visual nature of the corn would ensure the attentions of any nearby fish would be focussed. As I usually the swim was given ten minutes to settle and for any feeding fish to gain confidence. The small patches of bubbles appearing with increasing regularity told me that the fish were indeed getting their heads down. A single kernel was slid onto a size 16 hook and the remaining dregs cleared from my flask’s cup. With that, I gently flicked the small peacock waggler out, sank the line and waited. Hopefully not for too long.
The float bobbed and waved almost instantly but I knew this was the small rudd pecking at the float, shot and bait on the way down. I had to wait for a positive bite which developed just a few minutes later. The strike met with that classic thumping sensation typical of ‘crucian type’ species. One I will never tire of. Within seconds though, a handful of solid gold was in the net and a content grin etched across my face. Only a small fish but it need not matter when the fish are as pretty as these, and the fishing as intimate. Once returned, another kernel was hooked and the float sent out. Once more, instant attention from the tiny rudd as the rig fell through the water column. A few minutes passed before another fish was on. Again a chunky crucian ‘wannabe’ maybe a little bigger than the first, certainly plumper, if not longer.
The swim went through a little quiet spell after this. I sat wondering if a bigger fish had moved in and pushed the smaller ones out. As yet though there was no signs of that. No sooner had those thoughts popped into my head, than swathes of pin prick bubbles were sent to the surface. I seemed that a tench, or maybe two, were feeding in earnest. The float was surrounded by tiny reflections of itself and I knew it would only be a matter of time before the tench caught sight of the sweetcorn nearby. Until then, the float tip teased me before eventually dipping and then sinking from sight. The fish bolted for the nearest snag, a tree to my left, but heavy side strain saw to it that its roots were never reached.
On light lines these fish were really giving a good account of themselves. The light rod I was using, whilst not only cushioning any lunges when the fish were within netting range, also allowed me to feel every twist and turn of the fight. There’s one thing I don’t like to do and that is fish any heavier than needed. As long as I know I’m not putting the fish in any potential danger, why would I want to ‘mask’ the thing that is one of the best parts about going fishing. The tense moments of playing a fish can sit long int he memory.
After the commotion of the rogue tench, it took a while for the swim to settle. When the fish returned I caught a succession of brown goldfish, a solitary tiny crucian and three small common carp all around the pound mark. Three hours had passed by all to quickly and I decided that after with the next fish I would have to leave. In true fishing style, it turned out to be a lovely fish. Dark, bronze and brown colours. A deep bodied fish with a liking for pellets and corn. It gave the float rod a real work out as it circled defiantly in the margins before turning on it’s side and conceding defeat.
Around two pounds of stunning conditioned brown goldfish. It capped of a wonderful session of close in waggler fishing. The conditions had not been too great. A strong wind causing problems with undertow but extra depth added to the rig soon sorted this out. There was a few sharp showers but even they couldn’t dampen my enjoyment. I’m glad spring is here. It means there’ll be plenty more sessions like this, all the way through summer too. I can’t wait for more!
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Until Next time tight lines