After Martins visit the night before I was full of confidence, we discussed the many options available to me and reckoned I had picked the right area to be in. I was still concerned about the rest of the Fjords and what was going on as I am never really happy just sitting tight in one swim and so regular forays out along the north bank and up to the Stake Pit were made to keep my curiosity at bay. It's not that I don't believe that 'camping' works because it assuredly does I am just simply a fidget by nature and hanging around in one place can bore me somewhat. The night passed uneventfully except for two bleeps off the right hand rod in Meadow Lake which came to nothing. I woke in the morning to a dull and overcast sky with slight drizzle and haze, lousy weather to spot fish I thought but it might be conducive to a good session so I drank my first coffee and started to think about my chances for the day ahead. By six-thirty the sun was breaking through clearing the drizzle and haze giving me the promise of another hot sunny June day.
Like many of us I am always trying to 'work out' the carp, trying to figure out a strategy that'll bring the maximum return for my efforts, so to combat the long hours and onset of boredom I keep myself as busy as I can doing just that. Having settled into the spit swim and made a good start, seeing fish and finding spots I started looking for options that would give me more chances to catch a fish. The bar I was fishing to the right could actually be fished at shorter range and thus much more successfully by fishing a small swim further up the spit that I nicknamed 'The Hole'. It was a tricky little swim to fish as it was underwater and there wasn't much room for rods, certainly none for a bivvy which, in my estimation made it a great swim! It also provided unrivalled close access to the bar and looked perfect for short sessions off the back of a pre-baiting, it gave me an ideal view of the lake too. I had decided not to fish the gap at the other end of the spit simply because I felt I had good areas covered already and also because the weed growth that had erupted recently around that area. The sort of weed I saw proliferating the most was the bright green (almost florescent) candy-floss type that blankets the bottom of a lake and comes out covering your rigs in green slime, it didn't look promising I have to say.
Before I started fishing I made copies of the satellite maps for all the lakes on the complex and so I pulled them out and started to study the one for Big Fjords. The first thing you notice is the bars; they are really evident and clearly marked, giving you plenty to aim at. The one that caught my eye the most though was the 'forth bar' just to the left of 'the gap' and right of the bar I was presently fishing, it was closer to the gap and looked like another good place to intercept fish. With a little careful pruning of the reeds at that point along the spit I could get two rods in there and fish it. 'Bills Arm' also gave you the option to fish the other end of it which was tantalisingly right next to the gap leading into 'no-carp bay'. Often a misnomer of course, I had been informed that carp did indeed get in no-carp bay and looking at the satellite pic I could see why. It was like an egg box and a perfect place for a carp to feed in. I have come across this type of subterranean landscape before and done well. Created I presume from the spoil of gravel extraction they are simply mounds left by Lorries backing up and dumping their contents. Anyway the fact is that you have so many gradients with the up and down of the mounds it not only gives you an abundance of spots to choose from but also increases the chances of the right environment for all that live there and get eaten by the carp. I prefer to work the tops of them, especially the ones that shine up gravely yellow when looking down from the branches of a tree.
Mozzy island over on the north bank also interested me as any fish entering or exiting the Fjords on the north bank would also use this as a route especially if they were moving in and out of the Stake pit. The more I looked at the map though the more places I found where I wanted to place bait so I simplified it down to exclude options and make the task easier. As it stood there were only a few options open to me on Big Fjords limited quite literally by the swims available. I was on the 'spit' in the only bivvyable swim there was available due to the height of the water, there was perhaps one bivvyable swim on the north bank, the 'end swim', one on Mozzy Island and one left of Mozzy Island. On the southern bank of Big fjords there were a couple more swims around no-carp bay so all that left was 'Bills Arm' which seemed to be permanently occupied. Now I had the choice of course to find the fish no matter where they were and fish for them and this had been successful for me in the past .It was part of my strategy but given that I knew the fish were present in Big Fjords and moved around it quite a bit I also reckoned that it might be possible to sit tight in good areas, bait up and wait. One thing I did not want to do though was spread myself too thinly and chase myself around as that can easily be done on such a place when you start to look at all the options available.
The morning passed uneventfully except for second breakfast and whilst I had the rods out for rebaiting and positioning, a quick trip down to a spot that I had come across in Meadow Lake's north-east corner. I had found this whilst wading out onto the shallow margins after one of my trips back from a circuit of the north bank of Big Fjords and the southern bank of Reach Lake. The spot was in three feet of water and shined up bright gravel yellow; three feet in diameter it was completely clean right down to the hard gravel of the lake bed, on closer inspection I could also clearly see that it had a crater like depression to its bottom. The lakebed around the spot had a thin covering of silkweed and silt so it defo looked like a regular feeding spot for carp. The previous evening I had placed a handful of baits on and around it and so when I made my way down the spit towards it I was quite excited at the prospects. I gingerly waded out to the spot to see if the bait had gone trying not to make any noise or sudden moves in case any fish were present, as I did so a small jack pike of about three pounds suddenly darted out of the reeds to my left startling me for a moment. I edged closer to the spot, leaning as I went to try and get a good look-see as soon as I could. The water was clear and I could easily make out the weed covering on the bottom all around, another few steps and there it was, completely clean too! I stood there for a while looking about but saw no activity so I placed another handful on it and left.
By mid-morning I had spotted carp making their way down the third bar and pulling right swimming right past in front of me. By lunch time with the rods remaining silent I decided to pull them in and go for a walk to see if I could find any other fish activity. As I walked off the spit I made my way into 'The pump house swim' on Reach Lake and baited up the margins. I then walked up the south bank of Reach Lake towards the bridge that took me over to the North bank of Big Fjords and Mozzy Island. Although I liked Mozzy Island with its intimacy, inviting islands, bars and snags I felt that since it was only a short cast from the north bank 'End Swim' which covered the bar area nicely then that would be a better swim to angle from, safer too. Whilst I was there I spotted a few carp loitering around the bay near the end swim but could not make out there size. I moved back across the bridge and carried on up the south bank of Reach Lake bumping into Mark Johnson while on route. We stood and chatted about this and that and our chances of course. Mark noted that he had only had two fish out of there and felt he was not doing as well as he might. This of course is a good attitude to have as it spurs you on but, one that you should not let overcome you since angling is a wistful sport at times and chances can change dramatically from one day to the next. As it happened Mark went on to tame the place well and truly later on in the year catching many of the residents including 'The Friendly' at a tad over forty pounds.
After my chat with Mark I moved on further down the bank and then made a circuit back to the spit. When I got back the carp were yet again along the north bank of Big Fjords cruising along the surface so I made my way back to the swim. The carp continued to cruise around the bars in front of me giving me the confidence that I was still on fish and a move wasn't needed. I sorted out the other rods and got my head down for some well-earned kip waking to a regatta out on Meadow Lake an hour or so later. The weather had cooled after the afternoon sun and the cloud cover started to pull over shutting out its rays so I made a hot strong coffee and pondered the inactivity of the rods. I decided that I needed to go for another walk so I withdrew my rods and went to check the spot on meadows north-east corner and 'The pump house swim' on Reach Lake where I had baited up earlier on. The bait on the meadow lake spot was still evident so I went and sat by Reach lake and watched the yahoos out on the lake speeding up and down in there ski boat on what must seem to them like a puddle.
The wash created by the ski boats was something to be seen and the damage and bank erosion all around Reach Lake was very noticeable. I find it hard to believe that an owner of a lake that wanted its natural beauty to be unharmed by anglers and thus restrict the lease so much could allow such an activity to go on and do so much damage for so long, but there you go, I long since gave up on there being any real logic in this world. The wash created by these boats as they speed up and down will wipe out any rods present and fishing can be made impossible. Most anglers on there, even the very experienced take their rods out when the boats come on, only putting them back when they have gone. This can mean that you only get to fish between nine pm and nine am making it hard going for many.
I wandered around to the north bank of Reach Lake where Mark was bivvied up and bumped into my mate Rob Farrent. Now Rob is one of the best anglers I know and some people have quoted him as having an uncanny sense for where the fish are, a 'sixth sense' if you will. Well, there are only five senses to my knowledge and if he has a sixth then it would undoubtedly be his work rate and not any surreal added sense. When I bumped into him Rob was ensconced in the reeds in the north-west corner of the lake near the Ski club with his rods out of the water watching the ski-boat yahoo's do their thing. As we chatted about his chances he pointed out the carp sitting in the thick weed thirty yards out and to the left of his swim bobbing up and down in the wash created. The one thing that stood out about Rob was the amount of moves he made trying to stay in touch with the fish which moved up and down the forty acre lake at will. Sometimes though you would find him in a swim he had been in for a few days, but not often. I stuck this to the back of my mind knowing full well that I was doing the opposite but I had to try it out, I had to see if I could bait spots and trap them. Like I say 'You don't know what you don't know' and you only find out by seeing things through to a conclusion.
By the early evening I was getting all three rods sorted out in Big Fjords having taken one out of Meadow Lake. Carp were still present but were now only drifting around below the surface, hardly showing themselves at all except for the odd ripple or surface wobble here and there. The spots were easy enough to find as I had marked my line so all I had to do was clip up and cast to it along the reflection I had picked out on the far bank. One thing I did notice about the top of this bar was the large amount of Eel grass that was present and came back with the rigs which I believe is always a good sign. Three more handfuls of my pre-digested fishmeal bait went out onto each rod after being cast and I played chase the boilie with the seagulls winning all three rounds. I settled back in the swim and cooked up a curry relishing every mouthful as I had hardly stopped all day to eat. I was fishing better than I had in ages and so confident that everything was set right I zipped down the mozzy net and got into my bag, falling asleep immediately, completely exhausted.
After more than three decades choosing life (fishing) instead of money (work) I have been fortunate enough to spend countless nights by the bank fishing, so much so that I think my internal clock is set to fishing and not work. Because of this I sleep light and wake at dawn wherever I am so I would venture to guess that I am at my most comfortable by the bank! That night I think I was more than just physically exhausted but mentally too and I slept soundly until around 10 pm when I was woken by the middle Delkim firing off on a blistering run. I leapt out of the bag making for the door and bounced straight off the taught mozzy net like a nutter on a trampoline ending up sprawled across the bedchair in a daze. What? I can see out of the bivvy? Gathering my thoughts I remembered the mozzy net and raced to lift the zip and forced my way out. If I had bought the whole lot crashing down on me at that moment I wouldn't have cared in the slightest. By the time I had got my waders on and made it to the rod the run had stopped so switching on my head torch and turning the lens to 'spot' I watched the tip of the guilty rod that had so rudely awoken me.
Nothing, not the slightest twitch on the end of the rod or the line entering the water could be seen, I stood hands ready to lift the rod and engage the bait runner. It couldn't have been more than five seconds before I decided to pick up the rod and have a feel. Nothing, not a thing, so I wound down a little and pulled back the rod hoping for resistance, nothing again, I kept winding down and lifting the rod quickening my pace, nothing. Resigned to my fate I wound the rod in and walked back to the bivvy to re-bait, cursing that bloody mozzy net and swearing an oath never to zip it down again. I put on a fresh hook-bait and made a sweet toss to the spot, re-baited with another two handfuls and went dejectedly back to my bivvy. I switched off my head torch and just stood there in the darkness breathing in the cool night air and cursing the mozzy net once again for good measure. I had lost a fish, I had screwed up and I felt it like a smack around the back of the head that only my dad could give me. As I leaned the rod against the bivvy and searched around for my bait box the lone rod in Meadow Lake fired off, I jumped straight up hitting my head on the bivvy strut knocking off my head torch while I raced the two paces to the rod. The run had stopped with the bobbin hanging at the top; I hovered yet again over a guilty rod and watched the tip and line, nothing. I lifted it out and noticed that half the bait was missing, Eels! I crawled back into my sleeping bag and mulled over the two runs in my head, looking out into the darkness I figured that the culprit was definitely Eels on both rods giving me the start and stop runs and with that comforting thought I drifted back off to sleep.
It wasn't until just before first light the next morning that I was yet again rudely awoken from my slumber by a screaming Delkim. Racing out of the bivvy I effortlessly slipped into my waders and dashed to the rod. The tip was bent right around and the spool was spinning beautifully! I clasped the reel handle wound down, heard the bait-runner dis-engage and lifted the rod back, this time it was met with solid resistance. I wound down again and felt the carp pull out to my left; good I thought away from the margin and piled on right hand side strain. As I stood there in the darkness chest deep out at the edge of the reeds with a bent rod in my hands I stole a moment to capture it all in my mind, this is why I was here and this is how it feels I thought. I was alone in the darkness, in the wilderness of Big Fjords, a tiny speck in the universe doing battle one to one with an unseen beast on the end of my string. This is what I sought every time I went fishing but I knew that no other lake had ever given me this feeling.
Blanking is vital if you're to feel like this, failure is built into the equation of happiness, happiness like this cannot exist without failure.
The light was just starting to glimpse gently over the horizon and I could see the line against the ever lightening sky. I had the carp boring up and down in front of me trying to bury its head in the weed and make for either margin but each time I managed to counter its moves and within minutes of its last ditch surge towards the island in front of me it was ready for the net. It went in first time and I just stood there exhausted from the emotion of it all.
You need to catch a fish now and then as it can be desperately annoying not to! We set ourselves goals and some are set too high, mine was to catch three or four fish that year. I would of course like to catch the know ones, the old un's but to be honest I knew that I was going to be over the moon with just getting a result.
For now it was mission accomplished and so the next day I went home simply brimming, life can be good eh?
Steve Whitby