Along the bank I walked, briskly making my way toward a possible peg, though grass and beds of daisies, the session ahead playing out in my mind. I hoped that by the end of the day a crucian or two would have joined me on the bank. I have become a little obsessed with them of late, but sometimes I feel its better to let things run their course, than to try and stop them.
A metallic ‘thunk’ interrupted my thoughts. Then a scratchy, sliding sound. In the corner of my eye I saw a shiny, silver mouse scurrying toward the water. A silver mouse? That must be wrong. Sure enough it wasn’t a robotic example of the mammal but my iPod. In the most frustrating of all motions, one slow enough to see every detail but fast enough not to be able to do anything about it, it met the water, fluttering down into the depths and out of sight. I stood perplexed. Seven years of it being my time source when out fishing (I don’t like wearing a watch) and it has never fallen from my pocket. I guess whatever can happen will happen. Eventually. I took a deep breathe and let out a sigh. The lake had received my offering. I hoped it would repay me in some way during the next few hours. Silver for gold.
After fifteen minutes fishing it appeared that the lake had indeed begun to reimburse me. A stocky and furious crucian was already in the net. A fat two pounder that didn’t take too kindly to being swept away from the banquet it had found. I have caught a fair few of them during the past few weeks but I never get tired of just how terrifically they fight. Plunging down powerfully every time they are teased closer to the surface.
I caught five crucians over the next hour. Usually so delicate and frustrating, today they fed with abandon, the float vanishing confidently and never once did I feel a bite would be missed. A bumper catch was on the cards and I planned on relishing every second. Feeding after every fish seemed to be the key. After two hours I had caught eleven crucians, all bar one over two pound, a truly ridiculous amount of quality crucians. I needed to take stock of what was happening. I needed a cup of tea. A mistake in hindsight.
For in the interim, as I enjoyed Lady Greys finest, a shoal of tiny fish moved into my swim and I found it pretty much impossible to get a bait past them. At least a bait that the crucians wanted. A bigger bait evaded the hungry horde but was not attractive enough to tempt the cunning crucians. It was a small bait or nothing. The lake had turned against me. Maybe it had looked through my iPod and was less than impressed with the music on offer. Kraftwerk, seriously? Send this guy a shoal of tiny fry fish. For a frustrating two hours I couldn’t catch a crucian. Nor the tiny fish; too small too hook but large enough to steal my bait. Swines! Agonisingly the crucians were still present, sending up bubbles, and rolling in the late afternoon sun.
As the sun sank and the shadows lengthened, eventually and now much needed – if only to save my sanity – the shoal of tiddlers edged away. I was able to get my bait back into the crucian zone. Instantly, and a little cruelly, I caught one straight away, and then another, before latching into a memorable brace. Like peas in a pod their weights were identical. Two 2lb 14oz crucians on the bank takes some beating. Not quite a brace of three’s but I simply didn’t care. In the end I totalled 16 crucians, 15 of which were over 2lb in weight. How many more could have been caught if it weren’t for the dreaded shoal of fry halting progress is anyones guess. What a truly amazing few hours. The lake had certainly compensated me handsomely.Thanks for reading this update. You might like to head over to my Facebook page. Once there if you ‘like’ the page, you will get all the blog, twitter and Facebook updates in one place! You can click the link at the end or hit like to the top right of the home page. Don’t forget to share this with anyone you know might appreciate it using the social media buttons below.
Until next time,