Pitmans Pond 13th May 2007.

It has rained most of the weekend and so when the sky clears while walking the dog, it seems almost rude not to throw some hemp in a bait box and the last of the cockles and head off to Pitman's for a few hours. With the wet weather, there is always a good chance I’ll have the place to myself and this is how it turns out, when I arrive around 4:30pm.

The water seemed to be about right for margin carping and I elect to go for swim three on the basis the place was deserted and the rain was likely to return and carp were rolling here anyway. The lilies have grown since February and this patch is, in my limited experience here, a good bet if you sit quietly.

I tackle up a semi cocking pheasant quill and 8lb line (as I’m by the lilies) with a No.4 'tell tale' some 4 inches from the hook and put 2 cockles on a size 10 'No. 7'. I fed some hemp and sat on the unhooking matt and 10 minutes later, despite the strong right-to-left drift had a sliding bite and skittered a 0.5lb Rudd onto the bank, somewhat overpowered. Well it’s a start. Another bite 10 minutes later yields an eel of around 0.5lb, which resisted well, as eels do and I slide it onto the bank and tweak out the hook and let it slither back the way it had came. I've not bothering with taking notes today, wanting to focus on the fishing, which today is an easy feat. I almost reach for the pen when a carp breaks cover under the other bank, showing dorsal fin and tail top as it noses around in the brown water, mocking me from the far bank. I can wait.

The bait was being stolen off the hook every other cast by busy Rudd, too small for my hook, mobbing the bait making the float twitch and skitter. Hard work, until you settle down. I get a sliding bite, which I lean into, only to get a bow wave rolling away from me towards the other bank with its generator. I have another 2 Rudd, a little more than 0.5lb and then the rain comes back. I trudge back to get coat and brolly and while letting things settle, swap my pheasant float for a small goose quill which has greater buoyancy and put 2 BBs on the trace, one 6 inches from the hook and another 4 inches above that to counteract the strong flow and ripple. I swap the hook for a size 8 after the bow wave incident.

I pour a cup of tea. With the prevailing weather’s sky hidden from view, the focus abruptly switches to the new float, one of those ‘buzz’ moments – obediently it bobbed and slid away and I struck up and across, avoiding the brolly and pulling the fish away from the lilies. A 2lb Tench battles hard and is then overwhelmed.

Tench are never a hardship for me, even if overpowered. I follow this with another Rudd and then a further sliding bite turns into a sandbag that dogs about, hard on the bottom. I realise I have one of the larger Common Carp and I’ve lost a few of those after these wallowing fights, so I pile on the pressure, get a view of a long body and a full set of scales and winch (well nearly) the fish into the net.

Well I say ‘winch’, it took five or ten minutes and my arm was aching by the end. Relief.

I needn’t have worried the hook hold was good. Nice fish, which scaled 11lb 4oz. Not bad. I debated packing in with the mission accomplished, but the rain had eased so I dropped the brolly and carried on and took another Rudd.

Then a fast bite turns into a Mirror Carp of 9lb or so that makes it half way across the lake twice, with the brisk wind making the line sing its one note song, but thankfully it doesn’t try for the lilies too often.

The fishy feeling continues and I take what was to be my last Rudd this evening.

The wind drops suddenly and the water acquires a flat calm, notching up the tension. Then a really positive take and this fish fights extraordinarily hard and for a few minutes I think I have another carp.

It hugs the bottom despite the Avon and strong line and tries repeatedly for the lily patch. A very hard fighting 3lb Tinca is brought grudgingly to the net. I'm surprised at its lack of size (my conclusion today, while jotting, is that it hasn’t been caught before). I again debate leaving on a high note, but decide to hang on until 8pm, so I finish of my Earl Grey.

A good decision in the end as the last bite is quickish and I strike on autopilot, thinking 'Rudd' and a largish fish bolts into the lilies. I resort to “last man standing” tactics to retrieve the fish, which means a lot of side pressure and a walk up the left bank. I free the fish, along with several lilies and then we descend into a battle of attrition with the fish trying to hide in the bank under my feet.

Netted with one of the lilies, a small leather of around 7-8lb maybe, but heavy with spawn so returned more gently than usual. Job done, I head home for scrambled eggs on toast – free-range eggs, actual butter. I’ll wait for a month before returning and let the fish spawn.

On Sunday morning I woke early from a dream, which featured fishing. I was in a corner swim in a peg that was in hindsight recognisable as the peg for this evening jaunt. I could only manage to catch a turtle, which I had to release by cutting the trace to stop me getting my fingers snapped. Eventually I got a bait cast to a big carp and getting a good bite, found my rod and reel had changed to a reel of green whipping thread, which broke just as I was thinking I had a chance, as whipping thread is quite strong...OK a bit odd. Not even prescient really.

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