Darryl Dunn’s hard work paid off in fine fashion recently. Targeting a ‘heart break’ pit which is notoriously tricky, Darryl had a session to remember, well done mate!:
‘Last year I was fortunate enough to get offered my dream ticket on a small syndicate in Cambridgeshire. It contains what, in my opinion is the best looking carp to swim in our waters.
The ticket doesn’t start until early June which is always going to put you at a slight disadvantage to those who have been fishing through from the spring. To say this venue can be hard at times is an understatement.
And By the end of the year I had managed just four bites, resulting in 1 carp and 1 bream landed. The weed in this shallow pit can be savage and had claimed two of my precious bites.
This being my second year on the ticket I have been able to hit the ground running starting in early March. The first two visits the venue still looked very wintery and bleak. I saw very little to go on but found quite a bit of last summers weed still there. This is always a good starting point and a very likely area for the fish to have wintered up. I fished singles on both of these trips but sticked out a few kilos of bait in and around the weed as I left. As the weather has warmed and spring has started to take effect I have slowly increased the bait both during and after sessions.
This week I was able to get down for a 48 hour session. I had been down the week before and primed the area as I left. The weather was much warmer than my last visit and the weed had already started to hit the surface in many areas.
A quick scout about showed nothing to go on so I decided to sit for a while watching the water in the swim I had fished the week before. After about half an hour a fish stuck its head out bang in the middle of the baited area, shortly followed by a couple more. The stock in this pit is fairly low so three shows was plenty enough for me. I soon had my gear sitting at the back of the swim and the throwing stick out.
I didn’t want to go mad but I soon had a hundred or so baits spread over an area I could comfortably spread three rods over. Three cork ball pop-ups were soon tied onto chod rigs of 25lb bristle filament and a size 5 ESP Stiff Rigger.
The first bite came within an hour of the last rod going out and resulted in a stunning 31-08 common. It was still sporting the last of its winter colours and covered in leaches. This helped to confirm to me that they had been sitting up in the thick weed beds over the winter.
The perfect 31lb 8oz common
Just as first light was starting to break the next morning the second bite came. After a spirited fight, hoping from weed bed to weed bed I slipped the net under a lovely dark mirror of 21lb 4oz. Happy days!!
21lb 4oz mirror – lovely!
In my hurry to get to the lake I had left something at home in the fridge so I planned to reel in at lunch time to pop to the local shop. Just as I was sitting there thinking I will give it another half an hour before reeling in the right hand rod pulled up tight. By the time I reached the rod it was already deep in the sanctuary of the nearest weed bed.
I applied some pressure and felt a few dull thumps through the rod. Slowly but surely things started to moved and the thumps got heavier and heavier. I was convinced I was attached to a big, big fish. A huge ball of weed surfaced with with a big old leathery tail sticking out of it. I netted it first time and started to rip away at the green jungle only to be greeted by a little 14lb mirror. Not what I was expecting to find but more than welcome anyway. Less than 24 hours fished and I had already nearly matched the number of bites I had all of last summer.
The forgotten supplies were quickly replaced before fresh hook baits were tied on and placed back on the marks. The weather conditions had by now changed considerably with a stiff cold wind blowing straight into my face.
Any signs of activity had stopped and I really thought it was game over. I still had another night available and you can’t catch them at home! I saw no more signs of fish anywhere on the lake all day, and I eventually retired to the sleeping bag thinking it would be another fruitless night.
At 6 O’clock the next morning the middle rod was singing a merry tune and the clutch was slowly ticking away. As I reached the rod I could see the fish swirl on the surface. I lifted into the fish, the rod kicked over twice and then went slack. I stood there dumbfounded. I wound the rig in the find the hook point covered in thick silk weed. This had obviously masked the hook and stopped it going home.
A few sighs and muttered expletives and it was time to get a fresh bait tied up, check the hook and get the rig back out there. It went out first time without too much disturbance, but once again that cold wind was starting to pick up. I was convinced my chance had come and gone.
The kettle was on, tea and porridge consumed and even with the odd loss it sure beat being at work. At ten past seven the same rod was away again, and once again even on a tight clutch the spool slowly ticked. Straight away I knew this was a much better fish. A huge flat spot appeared on the surface as the fish kicked hard into the weed. There was no convincing it otherwise and soon the fish was deep into the green forest of canadian and silk weed. A healthy dose of pressure was steadily applied. But this was only met with the odd heavy kick as the fish pushed deeper and deeper into the weed. I slackened the clutch off and placed the rod back on the alarm.
After about twenty minutes the fish started to move and I picked the rod back up and tightened the clutch back down. I could still feel a large amount of weed but at least it was now moving, all be it very slowly. I had gained maybe five or six yards of line when all of a sudden the load lightened considerably. It was gone.
That was the last of the action for that session and the game ended 3-2 to me. I had managed more bites than I had all the previous year.
These fish are in excess of 40 years old and I cannot tell you how much each capture means to me. But this also has a knock on effect of how much the losses hurt. But that’s fishing’.