The Rye Dyke in High Wycombe

• The Rye Dyke
• First Carp
• First Double Pike (up a tree)
• Second Carp (up a tree)
• 2lb Roach
• Jack Piking
• Tench on a slider

The Rye Dyke is an artificial lake created in 1923 by the Marquis of Lincoln, with open playing fields on the south side ("The Rye") and on the North bank, mature beech trees. It runs roughly West to East and is about a mile long, with the West half being broader, some 50 yard across, and shallower, being about 3 feet at the margins and about 7-8 feet in the middle. It's a bit deeper than you think, like most water that you can see the bottom of. There was very heavy weed growth in this half, and this in part was what drove the "no lines under 6lb b/s" rule in the late 70's and early 80's.

The Eastern half is narrower, down to 15 yards in places, with beech trees overhanging and with the bototm sharply shelving as you move away from the bank, with depths of 15 feet in places. At the end there is a waterfall (some 10 feet or so) into a small stream that continues onward to the Thames via Bourne End.

The Dyke is fed at the West end by a clear stream from the Wycombe Abbey School grounds. Where the stream enters the lake there is a pool, "the Boating Pool" which was "fishing verboten" then. Fishing was only allowed from the South bank in any event.

The lake contained a lot of pike, many jack, a good head of carp, at a time when carp were not common with 20lb fish, and plenty of good perch, roach, tench and a good school of chub, which were often seen but almost never caught. On balance it was a hard water to fish with the clarity of the water and thick weed working against you most of the time.

The pike are still there it appears.

***********

Carp #1 (1978)

I had decided, for some reason I cannot remember, to buy myself a roach pole. I think that with the amount of Thames fishing I did, and the large numbers of bleak and gudgeon, plus the press banging on about bleak bashing, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I ended up with a 15 foot hollow fibre glass pole, with a flick tip ring. At this stage (circa 1978) elastic inside the pole was unheard of. I made myself a couple of pole floats - one of which was an empty biro refill with a very slim antennae glued in the top. It worked rather well - and I decided to take it down to The Dyke to test both the pole and the float. I attached the line to the end of an 18inch piece of elastic, which was secured to the pole with an overhand loop knot pulled through the tip loop on the pole. The line was attached to the elastic the same way.

After some messing around (the highlight of which was my brother catching a pike of 3-4 ounces, which during unhooking clamped itself onto his thumb, and took some prizing off again, blood was involved, not the pike's), I settled on a swim about halfway up where the weed was very thick, but there were plenty of small roach and rudd. With a 2lb b/s bottom and a size 18, plus single maggot I was amusing myself catching these small fish from small gaps in the weed. I must of caught half a dozen or so, when one of the gaps produced a trail of "needle" bubbles moving towards me. I did what anyone would have done, and dropped my bait in front of the trial, and away went the float.

I struck, confident of another 1oz rudd or roach.

All hell broke loose. A large lump powered through the weed, and towards the middle of the Dyke. I would like to claim I played it expertly, but it would be a bared faced lie.

What I did do, was hang on for grim death to the pole while the fish, now obviously a carp, swam around in large circles in the middle of the water. I would swear that at one point the 18" of elastic reached some 15 feet in length. It ploughed thourgh the weed beds with no apparent effort - how the line held I will never know. Eventually and improbably, after an eternity (about 15 minutes more likely), the carp tired enough to be netted, and was.

What I connected with a was a common carp, fully scaled and fat with spawn. We had no scales and could not find anyone with any, so we marked the length of the fish on the landing net handle and returned it, with some regret due to not knowing the weight. Using a length to weight conversion table we got from somewhere, the weight was estimated at around 6.5lbs (but with spawn was more likely 7-7.5lb).

This was not good for the nerves, but it did make me aware of the potential of the pole at an early age. There is tremendous shock absorption with a good pole set up - even with the basic rig I had here...

Fish up a tree #1

On one of the many Dyke sessions in 1979 or so, we were doing our usual thing of stalking and looking for small pike and we ended up on the last 2 swims by the boating pool. This had a "no fishing" sign in the middle, classically. I decided to see what I could see in the boating pool, and decided the best way to do this was to climb a few feet up one of the trees on the left hand side of the last swim, where brother has settled in for some serious "ledgering worms". Getting about 6 foot up I looked down to see a large pike directly below me (and in retrospect, luckily facing away from the tree & me). "Lurking" to be sure. Interesting.

I climbed down the tree, moving very slowly, and went to get my trusty 9 foot fibre-glass float rod, (which had the backbone of a stick of celery to be accurate). I put on a big bunch of lobs, usual trace (three plaited strands of 7lb line, size 6 long shank fly hook), and as far as is possible climbed the tree with rod in one hand and much stealth. Brother looked on with amusement, but decently kept still and quiet and sceptical all at the same time. No mean feat, but not unusual for him. I ended up lying on a sloping branch with my arm around the branch and the rod in front of the branch about 8-10 feet above the water – an objective view might be that I had not really thought things through. So far so good.

The pike, if it saw me at all, probably thought I was some large sort of bird (Greater Spotted Twitfisher maybe). I dropped the writhing bait into the water about 2-3 feet in front of the fish. It didn't move, a good start. The bait drifted to the bottom weed carpet, perhaps about 2-3 feet down. Nothing happened. I waited. Still nothing happened. I stopped holding my breath, and risked breathing normally.

More nothing. Check clutch and anti reverse…no effect on the pike. I briefly considered jiggling the bait up and down, but decided if the fish was in no hurry neither was I.

Then the fish slowly started to angle itself downward lining up on the still seething bait, and as I watched it slowly agitated the rear fins to the point where it "pounced" on the bait. I let it chomp a few times, and heart in mouth, tightened up and struck.

Pike-like there were few long runs, but the water was clear and snag free (except for the sign and a few low hanging tree branches). After playing it for a bit, I belatedly (some would say) considered the second half of the problem...

When the worst of the battle was over I had to back down the tree, not letting go of the (rod) fish. First problem: getting both hands onto the same side of the tree (any side) without letting go of the tree or the rod. This was accomplished, with requisite care (and a couple of near misses), and then onto land with the fish still on (and by no means docile). I then had to pass the rod around at least one more tree to get to the swim my brother was in, to get the net under it. I'd got the hang of it by then. No problemo.

Taken up with the moment the brother forgot to be sarcastic for some time. Netted, the fish was a bit over 13lb, and was my first double and the only one for a long time...but bigger than an 8lb bass (at last).

• First point: worms are really underrated as pike bait.
• Second point: pike cannot resist an apparently free lunch.
• Third point. Obviously a complete fluke? Couldn't happen again? The very next week...

Fish up a tree #2, carp #2

So there we were again, and I just had to look up the tree again. Well you would wouldn’t you? Yes you would. Anyway I did. Not a pike in sight, not even a little one.

BUT there were 2 or 3 carp, rooting in the weed...so down the tree, see previous tree story, and off to get my trusty 7ft rod, and a tin of luncheon meat. Plan A was to bung in some chunks and then lower a bit on a size 8 with the ground bait. Simple plan, all the good ones are. Stealth still needed. Brother, still, quiet and disbelieving. Carp, luckily, heads down in the weed.

So I lobbed in about 6-8 chunks of meat and then dropped in the hook bait. Déjà vu? One carp obligingly picked up every bit of bait except mine. Really. I could have screamed. But then it went twice round my bait and picked it up. Just like that. Like you would pick up a biscuit from a plate as you were on the way past.

Did I hit it? Too right I did. Unlike pike, carp are built for long runs with some power. Unlike the 9 foot celery stick, the "blue pool cue" had a 2.5lb test curve and 10lb b/s Perlon right through to the hook. And solid fibre-glass has a spring to it that hollow does not. Despite the handicap of the tree, with which I was now quite familiar, the contest was quite one sided (in my favour, thank you), despite the carp being only my second ever. So get rod on one side of the tree, down the tree, mind the fork, along the bank, round the second tree, into the net. Receive sarcastic applause.

A small mirror, on the scales, a bit over 8lb. But who cares? Really?

Of course I went up the tree several times subsequently (well, every time I went past, wouldn't you?), but never had that kind of luck from that tree afterwards.

• First point: the first rule of fishing ought to be "you never really know until you try it".
• Second point: something about the hook bait was not quite right for the carp. I mean, it went for it anyway, but it did leave it until last, and went round it twice (the line must have been vertical in the water pretty much). Interesting.
• Third point: short rods have their uses. They don't get caught in tree branches so much for a start.

Jack Piking

The Dyke, as intimated elsewhere, had more jack pike than average. At least it seemed this way. The water was usually so clear that it could just have been that you could see them I suppose. Anyhoo..

It was relatively easy to catch jack pike - I used to do it on purpose, and evolved a simple tackle and method that caught dozens up to 3lbs, and a few over that (only ever one "double" though). The rig was simple. You used a wire trace, made from 6/8lb Elasticum wire, about 18" long, and a single large longshank fly hook, about No. 6, at the business end and a swivel at the line connecting end. Both the hook and the swivel were attached by winding the tag end of the wire around the standing part 6-8 times, and then twisting the tag end with the main body of the wire for about 3 inches.

This must seem crude but it was all you needed. Bait was a bunch of worms, the more the better. If you wanted more casting weight, then you used a few shot on the top end of the wire trace. If the water was clear (which was mostly), then you stalked from swim to swim and looked for the fish. On spotting one, you keep behind the fish if at all possible, and keeping low cast well past (5-10 yards even) and over the fish, and then quietly reel the bait in, past Esox's sharp end, about 3 feet from it. This distance is close enough for it to see your worms, and far enough away not to spook it, usually. Let the bait fall to the bottom, when it's about level with the nose...

Now you wait and watch. You might have to wait 5-10 minutes, but usually, the pike will slowly tilt until the body is angling down towards the bait. The rear fins will agitate slowly, edging the fish nearer and finally with a short lunge it will grab the bait, sometimes accompanied with a slight twist of the body. The flash of white from the gill covers and under the chin, gives you firm indication of a pickup. Give it a few seconds, while the fish chomps to itself (literally no more than 5 seconds) to ensure it has really got the bait, they do miss sometimes, and strike.

If the water was cloudy, you put on a self cocking float, and setting the depth to a bit over the water depth (which was a roughly uniform 3 foot at the broad end of the water), just went from swim to swim giving it half an hour or so in each one. Each swim had banks of thick weed and many had trees with branches trailing in the  water, great hiding places for the pike we were after. The broader shallow end of the Dyke worked best, with the last 25 yards by the sluice gate good as well. The deeper and narrow section did not produce as well, and it may well be no coincidence that most of the biggest pike I spotted were in that area.

Three times when fishing for jack, I caught roach over 2lbs - twice with the wire trace rig described above, once described here, and once when float fishing in coloured water.

You can learn a lot about pike if you get the chance to fish regularly like this, in clear water. First and most obvious, is keep quiet, low and behind the fish. The prey was off if disturbed. Secondly, the larger the fish the easier it was to spook. You could make a real hash of getting a bait to a 1.5lb pike, and still catch it. A bad cast to a 5lb fish and it usually was a missed opportunity. Also the smaller the fish the faster it leaves - a small jack will when spooked often dart off. A larger fish will amble off. Really good ones will fade into the background like the Chesire cat.

It was much harder to stalk very large pike. I almost never got close enough to cast. They kept further from the bank for the most part as well. The other thing of note is that often pike were in rough pairs, sometimes visibly so. Even when you could see only one fish the another might be around. Several times I cast to a fish, only to have another unseen pike take the bait, often not even noticed until the flash of white as the bait was taken. this also underline the effectiveness of the mottled markings as camouflage.

Occasionally the pike would miss the bait on the lunge. You could usually get away with stealthily withdrawing it and re casting. If a pike hovered around without taking it, giving it a nudge would usually help. The movement would get it's attention.

I refined the end tackle by creating a trace made of 3 strands of 7lb Perlon, pleated together. The idea was pinched and modified from a section in a book about fly fishing for pike. I made this by taking three lengths and 3 feet long, and using a bulldog clip on a bit of wood, pleated 3 strands together for about 2 inches, about 4 inches from one end. Then(holding the ends carefully), double over the short length you have made, nd combining the 3 strands at each end of the pleated section, pleat together for about and inch. Then leave out one set of 3, and continue pleating until you have about a foot length. Yes it took a while. It helps to have good light, and also to put a swan shot on each of the ends, much like bobbins in lace making. When you have the length you need, put a blob of nail varnish on it to stop it unravelling.

You then whip over the eye splice with fine thread, covering the loose ends. Give the whipping a couple of coats of polyurethane varnish,which is flexible when dry. On the other end you whip you long shank hook onto the trace. I would tie an overhand knot in each of the three nylon pieces, and whip over them. Finished whipping about and inch long. Again polyurethane varnish 2 coats. I only ever make 2 of these, and caught many pike on them (and another 2lb roach plus more than a few perch). I never lost one to a "bite off". I changed the hook whipping a few times also, as after a dozen fish it tended to look a bit "worked over". If I was fishing like this today I would just use a thick braid (I know that's contentious).

This method accounted for dozens of pike from 0.5lb up to 13lb. Why on earth we never graduated to sprats and other deadbait and tried for larger fish I do not know. We saw many much larger pike, and I saw several that with hindsight, must have been 20lb+. These days, I'd be inclined to pop the worms off the bottom, and put a few slivers of red tinsel on the hook, in with the bunch. Although the many trips here skew the figures as it were, I think I probably have caught more pike on  worms that any other bait. It is true to say, I never go pike fishing without a few...you never know if you see a fish, it might take worms even if not really feeding.

Tench on a Slider

On one occasion I took my nine foot rod down for some proper fishing, and took some corn with me. I had made my way about 2/3 of the way along the bank to where the water narrowed and deepened, and chanced upon a cloud of silt in 10-12 feet of water. I assumed that this was tench on the feed and with barely suppressed anticipation started to tackle up. A more haste less speed moment if ever there was one. The first issue for me was the depth and I rigged up a slider float that was based on large porcupine quill with an elasticum wire slider eye whipped on the side. I bunged a large hook on the mandatory 6lb mono, and loose fed corn all the while.

I was concerned that setting the depth would spook the fish, but with exaggerated care I had to do that, and succeeding by virtue of plumbing to one side of the cloud and hoping the depth was similar if not the same and over-casting some way to avoid the terminal tackle splash.

I removed the BB by the hook used for this adjustment and over cast and reeled back over the cloud and slipped the bale arm to allow the line to pull through the float to the stop-knot. This is of course the feeling we all go out for. The float dipped almost right away (which is the other feeling we go out for), and one tench on the bank around 2-3lb. Release and recast, and another, and few minutes later a third. Delirious by now with thoughts of a red-letter bag, I recast...

...and a jolly boat, of the sort rented at the other end of the lake, crashed though the over hanging beech branches next to my swim and over the top of the silt cloud. Sheer bad boatmanship on their part, and sincere apologies were proffered, but it was too late for the remaining tench, which had fled.

The excitement of the previous 15 minutes was reflected equally now by the sense of lost opportunity that enveloped me while I spent another hour on the spot, on the off chance the school would return. Drat and double drat. That was my 2nd 3rd and 4th tench (ever) anyway. Both the good and bad moments engraved on my memory for my posterity.