Autumn leaves and the South Downs

My latest angling trip was a far more relaxed session than usual, for the main part because I only went for a day. I was on holiday in Bognor Regis in an area that seemed starved of specimen day-ticket waters, so instead I ventured deep into the South Downs and opted for a fairly straightforward trip to Mill Farm Fishery in Bury, famous for holding the British Record silver bream. However I was not here for bream (I never am), so I opted for the specimen lake, which contains a head of around three hundred fish, mainly doubles with a good handful of twenties and a sprinkling of magical 30's, but not the sub-10lb tiddlers present in the other two ponds on the complex. Due to not being on the bank every weekend in the past few weeks I decided I would use the opportunity to guarantee myself a few runs, as with winter fast approaching I may have not got the chance to do so again before the years' end. 

I arrived on the bank at nine o'clock, and was set up and in the water by ten. Due to Mill Farm's boilie ban I instead opted for tiger nuts, fished snowman-style on KD rigs tipped with fake corn with little sticks of crushed tiger nut done in Korda's 'funnel web' system. Knowing that the bottom was even and lined with clay plus the fact I was short of time I left the marker behind and chucked one rod in the middle, and with the other edged up to the island sixty yards to my left until I was six inches off the bank, where the leaves and their golden autumnal hues would not have looked amiss in one if Turner's watercolours. I did not bait up, knowing it was a waste of bait seeing as I was only fishing for a day, and instead decided I would have to find the fish as they were relatively high in numbers. 

The picture does not do the leaves justice

KD Rig with balanced tiger nut 

It was dead on one o'clock when I was sitting down admiring my handsome new matrix buzzbars and Korda bobbins that I had my first run on the island rod. The run was hardly a one-toner due to the angle the line left the rod, and I was alerted to the bite as much by the rod tip arching over as the bobbin shooting up. I struck and immediately felt the reassuring nodding accompanied by the fish stripping line from the clutch, so much so I had to hold the spool to keep the creature from the sanctuary of the snags. After the fish gave a good account of himself I slipped the net under a handsome 13lb common.

A lean Mill Farm common

Before recasting I walked the line down the bank to the clip and measured the line on the right hand rod exactly the same, as I planned to put both rods out on the island. I cast the left rod back out, it again hitting the clip and quietly plopping in the exact spot as last time. I cast the right hand rod a rodlength to the right of the other rod, again tight to the island, but before I could even clip the bobbin on I could see the line on the left rod kiting off to the island, before the alarm roared off once more. For a moment it seemed as though the fishing was happening faster than I could handle, but after landing a pretty 10lb ghost carp the action all but dried up after a frenzied half an hour. 

First ghost carp

I tried different techniques to buy a bite, including chucking a rod under some marginal cover along with a few handfuls of tiger nuts as the shadows grew long,but the day had been done, but we had to be out by sunset and with sun dipping below the trees it was not long before I decided enough was enough and I packed up. 

I spend the vast majority of my time on the bank chasing 'lumps' and as a result I blank a bit more often than I'd like to. I enjoyed my session at Mill Farm, as did I enjoy coming home in the evening and watching the football. In my experience different is rarely better, but I like catching carp and in this case a change was welcome.  

An evening at Tarn

My last session on Tarn was a surreal experience to say the least. Conditions were perfect, a mild south-westerly blowing gently across the dark, choddy water with the barometer reading low in the mid 900's. Now Tarn is not an easy water by any means, which made it all the more special when the screech of my alarm awoke me at 0830 Sunday morning. I was chuffed, playing what felt like a good fish, so chuffed in fact I didn't realise the furious fish was heading straight for the trees thirty yards to the left. I was snagged in no time, and even though the lead clip did it's job and dropped the weight instantly, the carp was gone. All the previous hours spent on the bank at Tarn waiting for one fish, only to loose him. I'd done the hard part, yet failed to land him. 

Fast forward a week and I was on the same pond, the same peg in fact, but this time I was determined. I had a score to settle with Tarn; and the elusive beasts that lurked within its silty, one thousand year old depths. First thoughts couldn't have been more different from the previous week, with high pressure, however the increase in temperature inspired me.

Tarn, complete with marker

The week previously the bailiff had  informed us of the old river bed in front of our swim, as the pond had originally been created a millennium ago by damming a tributary of the Wey. It was the only area without two feet of silt, and with the marker in place I fired out half a kilo of Mainline Cell to give a good scattering along the riverbed, despite the gulls hassling me. We arrived at 1600 and I was fishing by 1800, ready for dusk.

rigging up, complete with hat-hair

Feeding completed I opted for my usual KD Rig, as it was what had worked the week earlier. The rig itself was a longer-than-usual length of supernatural, as even though I was fishing on a relatively hard patch I erred on the side of caution due to Tarn's choddy nature. On went a 15mm Cell popup, along with a stick composed of crushed cell. Paprika and salt added and smothered in Goo, the rig was cast to where I'd baited. On the second rod I had a snowman rig, this time with a Cell bottom bait tipped with 10mm pink popup, and a dozen free Cell offerings, again oozing with Goo, and again casted to the baited area. Setup complete, the only snag was the top of the bobbin that sits on the alarm screw had broken, so I had to sellotape it on, but now everything was ready! Time to sit back and relax. 

KD Rig and Snowman (bottom). Which would work?

Goo, plus goo'd hand

A long and action-free evening passed, save for dad getting liners on his margin rod. Luckily it was a mild night with the cloud providing a quilt of insulation, and I kipped down at 2330. I slept well until 0830 when the trill of the alarm awoke me in glorious fashion. I shot out of the sleeping bag without even unzipping it, and before I knew where I was I was doing battle with a hard-fighting Tarn carp, nodding around the swim while I was shaking my hot water bottle out of my pyjama leg. He fought hard like the one the week before, but this time I was focused, I was in control. I could barely contain my excitement, I had caught a carp in exactly the same fashion in exactly the same swim within an hour of the last one, but this time he was mine. When I first caught a glimpse of him the beauty of the creature struck me, with a dark head and chocolate-brown flanks fading to a cream belly. As I edged him into the net he suddenly shot out and I panicked, remembering the time not long ago dad lost a monster tench in the same fashion. I swiveled down to absorb the lunge, and before long he was in the net again, secure this time. It didn't enter my mind the size of the fish, as in the water it only looked around mid-doubles, and it was only when I hauled the net from the water did the size of the fish register in my brain. 23lb! My new PB and a strikingly beautiful fish with no mouth damage and deep colouration, the sort Tarn is known for. After a few trophy shots and a weigh I released him, and before I could even turn him upright he shot off, back into the murky depths where he came from. 

Job done! A superb 23lb Tarn Mirror, my new PB

(again with bed hair)

 The rest of the session was uneventful, save for a change from the snowman to another KD Rig on the right-hand rod. Hope you enjoyed reading, join me on my carp quest next week as I attempt to (hopefully) tear Tarn apart and better my PB.

Tight Lines!