I had to stop looking at the clock. Time wasn’t going to suddenly speed up. I was waiting for a delivery. A present for someone. This was eating into valuable fishing but I guess I had only myself to blame for leaving things to the last minute. For now, all I could do was think of the fishing waiting for me, out in the countryside.
The weather was dour. Damp, windy and miserable. For a split second I was almost glad to be sat indoors. Only a split second mind. Time for a brew. I put the kettle on and checked the clock once more. A full four minutes had passed. I thought about the pristine carp and brown goldfish that would be nosing around in the deep, gin clear margins. Looking for food. My patience was running thin. Before the kettle had chance to boil the doorbell rang, and in a flash I was answering it, signing my name (I could have singed anything at that point let me tell you), and ushering the delivery man back to his van. No time to check the package. It was time to fish.
All this waiting around though had made me slightly impatient. There was no way I would be fishing just one peg now. Static. I’d lost too much time for that. Time to be active and make the most of what little time I had left. On arriving at the venue the rain began to hammer down once more. Undeterred, I started to creep into a few swims, looking for signs of fish. Be that actual fish or ever so slightly clouded water. A few small pellets and grains of corn were fed into four swims. I headed back to the car to get the rest of my gear. Namely rod, landing net, unhooking mat and flask. Oh and waterproof jacket.
A visit to the swim I fed first I could see all the bait still there. I stood for a few minutes and let my eyes adjust. No, there was nothing present here, so I headed to swim number two. On such a high bank I had to creep into position. In fact it almost required a crawl. I really needed to keep off the skyline. It was worth doing though. As I peered through the surface glare, five dark shapes were feeding with abandon. Not huge fish but that was of no concern. This was going to be exciting! I baited my hook with a grain of corn and slid my other rig component, a bit of rig putty, down the line about a foot. Four grains of corn were thrown into the swim which made the carp leave the area. Only briefly though. Just enough time to introduce my rig. I knew they would be back. Virtually at the same time as the hookbait settling the carp were back, dorsal fins bristling as they mopped up the pellets, and picked off the ‘sweetcorn cherries’ in amongst them.
With no idea what was in front of him, this beautiful little common carp vacuumed up my hookbait in around twenty seconds. The fight the fish gave was something else. Only three or four pounds but on light tackle it was a joy to catch. The fight had invariably disturbed the rest of the shoal and it was a case of introducing a few more morsels of bait before looking forward to seeing what was in swim three. The time I had been robbed of in the morning was now a dot in the back of my mind. Funny what a fish can do.
In swim three another lovely little carp came my way, a little smaller than the first. This was a feisty fish, not so much when in the water, but once on the mat it simply wouldn’t stay still. Better to think of the fishes wellbeing in a situation like this so it was returned without being photographed. The next swim produced another fish. A different species than the previous two. When the fish approached the bait it looked like another small carp. However, it was far more cautious. Once within an inch of the bait, it hung in the water motionless, observing the interesting yellow morsel. But would it take the bait? Nope. Several times it backed away from the bait only to return, and stare, before repeating all over again. On around the fourth or fifth time, I decided to move the bait slightly. Hoping to induce the fish into making a split decision. It worked a treat. Instinctively the fish grabbed the bait and I struck. A short, determined fight later, this deeply coloured brown goldfish was posing for the camera. A fish around two pound in weight. Lovely chestnut browns and deep bronzes, with hints of yellow and gold. An often maligned species, especially where crucians are concerned, and I can understand why. But in their own right they are a stunning looking fish.
With the rain getting heavier it was time to pack away. Three fish caught in 90 minutes on a method I absolutely adore. I was more than happy with the result. I don’t think I would have fished as actively with more time on my hands, especially given the conditions. Maybe the late delivery man did me a favour. No, not maybe. I know for a fact he did.
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Until Next time tight lines