At 4am one late spring day in 1987 I opened the front door to be greeted by skies filled with racing grey clouds, wind roaring through the trees and driving rain. The car was quickly loaded before everything could get wet, I threw my Bob church one piece waterproof and flask onto the passenger seat and closed the car door. Silence.
At that time I was living back in my home village of Great Shelford in south Cambridgeshire. It’s a quiet village and at 4am in the morning it would be silent. The only thing you would occasionally hear would be the electric milk wagons from the local dairy making their way around the deserted streets, dropping off clinking bottles in dark doorsteps.
Rod Hutchinson mentioned the madness that drives you from a warm bed and the arms of a woman to go fishing but it’s not just madness of the mind, but also of the body. That first breath of fresh spring air on opening the door, the chill of the morning biting at you and the wildness of the weather. In the spring you can have sunshine, rain and racing clouds darkening the sky all within minutes of each other. The world is waking up and puts on a full show, who doesn’t love this time of year?
At that time I was living back in my home village of Great Shelford in south Cambridgeshire. It’s a quiet village and at 4am in the morning it would be silent. The only thing you would occasionally hear would be the electric milk wagons from the local dairy making their way around the deserted streets, dropping off clinking bottles in dark doorsteps.
Rod Hutchinson mentioned the madness that drives you from a warm bed and the arms of a woman to go fishing but it’s not just madness of the mind, but also of the body. That first breath of fresh spring air on opening the door, the chill of the morning biting at you and the wildness of the weather. In the spring you can have sunshine, rain and racing clouds darkening the sky all within minutes of each other. The world is waking up and puts on a full show, who doesn’t love this time of year?
I turned the key and the engine kicked over, into first gear, lights on and I was on the road. It was 4:15 am; I flicked the wipers on and turned up the ventilation. I was heading for The Fen, Drayton Fen, in search of tench, big ones too. Back in 1987 a 7-8lb fish was still a very large specimen and places where they could be caught were far and few between. But the fen, that had em’.
As I drove out of the village and towards the city of Cambridge the rain got heavier and the sky darkened, dawn was on hold for a while. By the time I reached the main highway out of the city heading north the rain was coming down so hard I had to reduce my speed to a crawl. The road was awash with water creating huge pools and at times, the car aquaplaned. I reached the turn off to the lake and pulled over, time to catch my breath for a while.
That was a mad journey I said to myself as I instinctively reached for my flask and poured out a cupper. I sat there for a while contemplating the end of hostilities in the darkened sky above me, I must be mad! Five minutes later the rain eased, I emptied the last mouthful of tea from the cup, put the Peugeot in gear and headed for the lake. Luckily for me a very good swim for Tench was adjacent to the car park, so with the car nicely reversed and the tailgate up I began to tackle up. The rain returned but luckily it was coming from the south behind me, I chuckled to myself, shivered, then reached for the flask again.
As I drove out of the village and towards the city of Cambridge the rain got heavier and the sky darkened, dawn was on hold for a while. By the time I reached the main highway out of the city heading north the rain was coming down so hard I had to reduce my speed to a crawl. The road was awash with water creating huge pools and at times, the car aquaplaned. I reached the turn off to the lake and pulled over, time to catch my breath for a while.
That was a mad journey I said to myself as I instinctively reached for my flask and poured out a cupper. I sat there for a while contemplating the end of hostilities in the darkened sky above me, I must be mad! Five minutes later the rain eased, I emptied the last mouthful of tea from the cup, put the Peugeot in gear and headed for the lake. Luckily for me a very good swim for Tench was adjacent to the car park, so with the car nicely reversed and the tailgate up I began to tackle up. The rain returned but luckily it was coming from the south behind me, I chuckled to myself, shivered, then reached for the flask again.
The bait I had found to work best with Tench was casters, twice as expensive as maggots yet four times as good and I always had a couple of pints with me. One rod, my hand-built John Wilson Avon was put out on a swim feeder packed with ground bait (Hemp, brown crumb and casters). This was cast three or four times at the start then every 15-20 minutes or so to build up the swim. The margin rod was a thirteen foot float rod with a large waggler float. Both had 8lb mainline with a strong size 12 hook. The casters were threaded onto a 1lb hair attached to the hook with a fine needle then a small half inch ball of groundbait was squeezed around the hook.
I stood back under the tailgate of the car sweating slightly from all the exertion and began to take off some layers, it was getting light. Ever since I had discovered this swim and the Tench it contained I had been excited and consumed. Although I had spent many mornings over the years fishing for them I'd never caught as many big ones as I had from the fen.
Pulling my waterproof one piece back on, I noticed the float rod had an alarming bend in it, it took me a second to register, racing for the rod I managed to grab the end of the butt as it whipped round, straightened and then the line went crack!
I stood back under the tailgate of the car sweating slightly from all the exertion and began to take off some layers, it was getting light. Ever since I had discovered this swim and the Tench it contained I had been excited and consumed. Although I had spent many mornings over the years fishing for them I'd never caught as many big ones as I had from the fen.
Pulling my waterproof one piece back on, I noticed the float rod had an alarming bend in it, it took me a second to register, racing for the rod I managed to grab the end of the butt as it whipped round, straightened and then the line went crack!
The flask took another beating as I re-tackled the float rod. Thankfully I thought to myself, the swim feeder rod was on a bite alarm so I'd get some advanced notice. I turned to look at it as if to confirm my thoughts only to see the bobbin rattling in the butt ring and the alarm staying stubbornly silent. Another one of those seconds passed, another hopeless dash for the rod was made and oh my, the bloody fish was still on the end! Three and a half seconds later an 8lb pound bream bellied up ten yards out and came sliding into the net. It saves a blank I said to myself, I switched the bite alarm on, well this was fun.
The rain had eased off, the wind had dropped and the lake surface rippled. I got out my folding chair and sat closer to the rods which were both now back out.
The float dipped and a sprite of bubbles fizzed on the surface, then another. I sat tensed up, my hand tightening around the cork handle ready to strike at the merest hint of that float disappearing. It dipped sharply again, damn! I missed it, I leaned forward as if ready to pounce, coiled like a spring. The float darted under, the rod came back with a whoosh and the tip bent over oh-so-sweet and then it thumped off.
The rain had eased off, the wind had dropped and the lake surface rippled. I got out my folding chair and sat closer to the rods which were both now back out.
The float dipped and a sprite of bubbles fizzed on the surface, then another. I sat tensed up, my hand tightening around the cork handle ready to strike at the merest hint of that float disappearing. It dipped sharply again, damn! I missed it, I leaned forward as if ready to pounce, coiled like a spring. The float darted under, the rod came back with a whoosh and the tip bent over oh-so-sweet and then it thumped off.
Suddenly all that tea gurgled in my stomach, I hadn't even had time for a sandwich yet. The rod jerked and pulled over as I let the clutch slip. The wind picked up, I felt completely alone, focused entirely on that moment, I looked around as if to confirm reality in some way. I stared up, the skies were dark and moody, clouds raced across the sky like a herd of wild horses. The rod went over again and the line grated on weed. I could hear the birdsong getting louder as the dawn chorus began. Far in the distance across the other side of the lake the local church bell rang out. Two kingfishers flashed past as a crack in the clouds sent shafts of light arrowing across the lake. The fish thumped again but less so, I heaved a little and a bottle green flank hit the surface. I took a deep breath and felt all the tension leave me. Stretching out with the net I scooped up my prize, carried it up the bank and laid it on the wet grass.
Staring down at my prize I knew I’d broken the 8lb barrier, a solid fish and a morning's fishing to remember. It had been an engrossing journey this last few weeks to this fish. I’d started off slowly but determination, a switch to casters and this more sheltered bay had produced the results I sought, a tremendous feeling of achievement swept over me.
I emptied the flask into my cup and opened up my sandwich box, the float rod was left to lean against the car. I wasn't in a rush anymore so I sat and savored the moment. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the skies began to darken once more. I envisaged another crazy trip home, silent darkened roads replaced with thundering lorries and driving rain. I didn't care, everything was alright with the world, sweet as in fact.
I emptied the flask into my cup and opened up my sandwich box, the float rod was left to lean against the car. I wasn't in a rush anymore so I sat and savored the moment. Thunder rumbled in the distance as the skies began to darken once more. I envisaged another crazy trip home, silent darkened roads replaced with thundering lorries and driving rain. I didn't care, everything was alright with the world, sweet as in fact.