Baron's Ponds 21st June 2007

What I know about these lakes is that the sign for them could be seen on my way to where I happened to be working this week. As the permission to fish the weekend was unlikely, Thursday evening represented a chance to get out; so taking that chance was in order. I called the number and got the impression the water might be over commercial for me, but I was committed. I head for the water at a bit after 5pm and getting there was slightly re-assured to see a lot of trees and overhanging branches, always good. The other good thing is that there wasn't a scrap of litter anywhere in the place. There are 2 ponds, perhaps the lower of the two is an acre, the higher perhaps a tad over twice that.

I opt for the lower pond, no reason, but the corner I choose is the windward corner, furthest from the car park, with a border of scummy wind-drift. Fish cavort as I set up, which an excellent sign. I go for a pole float and a size 14 straight onto 6lb mono and go with the Avon, which makes it sound like a choice, but it's the travelling rod.

The water is almost spot on 3 feet deep, which is the high side of the lake (as opposed to the damn side) so not a surprise. I put in some corn and a grain on the hook and start out catching from the off. Bites seem slow to develop, with a lot of twitches between the actual float dipping away. I get several Roach in the half-pound range, which is nice, then a monster Gudgeon, easily my 'pb'. I'm greatly cheered by this, but the only other Gudgeon I see falls of the hook later on. I get a solid lump after a bit which turns into this Crucian, at least I assume this, although it has a little of the 'common' about it. This is also a 'pb' as I've never caught one quite that big, but I decline to reduce it to a number and leave the scales in the bag. The evening is cool and overcast, and around this time I add a sweater to the shirt, but it's pleasant out here.

I get more good Roach, and then a very solid fish which I let run, and after some drawn out play, a very good Roach appears, which might be 1.5lb. Another smaller Roach follows and a few minutes later a smaller fish, then a very heavy fish that takes some getting in. Before it hoists its dark green colours, it's clearly a Tinca. It looks around 4lb or a bit more and its mouth is scarred. I carry on with the Roach, and after a bit the bites dry up and around 7pm I stick on a pickled cockle (really), which gets an immediate run away and I get a 2.5lb Tench. I stick with cockles for another 30 minutes, but not a twitch. I switch back to corn, get one more Roach and then the bites vanish, metamorphosing into twitches that never turn into bites. Small things, maybe.

At 8:30 I give in and move to the 'damn' side of the larger lake for the last hour or so. Sated with fish I am prepared to gamble for the fall of dusk. It's a grey evening and the odd scatter of rain has persisted. I check the depth, around 9 feet and overfish 6 inches with corn. I scatter a bit more for luck, sit back from the bank, sink into it and wait.

Carp have been moving in both lakes all evening and to my right, 20 minutes later, a large fish swirls on the top, dark backed, a good 'double'. Another lighter, olive almost, clears the water in the middle, crashing back into the silence, the ripples reaching me a little after, the wash of a passing ship. Seems to be the right place. Other fish suck the vegetation no the far bank. After a bit, bats appear, flying very close to me before swerving to one side. This is nice. I finish my tea, made with hot water blagged off our customer.

I watch the water's ebb and flow, caused by a steady breeze running up the lake to where I'm sat, making the surface run. When the breeze drops the water relaxes back in the other direction. I adjust the rod tip to anchor the float against the flow, so my bait isn't edging around the bottom.

I can't shake off the feeling that I'm not alone and keep looking, and wanting to look, over my left shoulder, thinking someone is standing in the shadow of the trees, seen perhaps out of the corner of my eye. On one occasion I see a rat hopping off down the path, but nothing else.

Despite merging with the scenery, I get nothing approaching a bite on cockles or corn, until it's too dark to see. Ah well. I pack up deliberately, resisting the temptation to look up the bank into the inky gloom under the trees. The rain starts with grim intentions as I walk to the car, last one out. I'll come back and try the larger lake for a full evening later in the summer.