The Pinnacle: Reaching New Heights in Fishing Techniques
What is a pinnacle? Is it a state of mind only present within an individual...or is it something real and tangible....
From an angling point of view maybe it could be fishing a huge windswept lake with unknown fish in its depths or a small wild farm pool that has never been angled upon...perhaps even some big carp on foreign shores. It’s all relative and personal.
Luckily I have experienced some of the above.
This is my pinnacle using Haith’s products...Some two years ago I was invited to fish for carp on what many people would describe a “history water,” but this is no ordinary lake as it`s steeped in history from the beginning of angling’s birth as we know it, and you can’t just turn up and fish!
The long drive to the lake seemed to take forever and eventually I found the lane leading to the lake, as I was carefully meandering through the narrow road a very large stag jumped down off the high bank nearly hitting my estate…I took this as a good omen for some odd reason.
Having parked up and tentatively walked to the lake I realised that I would never forget today as this was something that I do not have the vocabulary to describe. There hidden amongst centuries old trees was a glint of water, this was the place I had been hearing stories, tales and writings since I was young.
I met my two hosts and we excitedly shook hands, some information was directed my way and greatly received, and then they left me to my thoughts and own devices…
I soon had a very good look around in the bright sunlight and on the surface were several rather large torpedoes, just basking in the late afternoon sun.
Although it was warm and very humid I gathered my kit from the car and quietly set up on a swim that was almost vertical to the extreme - especially difficult to get myself and minimal carp kit down to a fishable safe level. I later found out that this famous swim has a rather dubious reputation in a very sinister way... Anyway....after what seemed an age I was finally angling - I had spombed a small amount of hemp, groats, sweetcorn and chopped homemade Robin Red boilies plus - in this fiendish mix - I added some Liquid Robin Red and around four or five table spoons of the actual base mix as well....now on this occasion I didn’t opt for my usual Haith’s boilies, I was using two fake but uber critically balanced plastic pink corns on the sharpest home honed hooks I have....but with a difference, the fakes had been languishing for a long time in Liquid Robin Red..
In short I was looking for one chance, just one take! If I landed it, then and only then would I deem myself a proper carp angler - not a catcher of carp but an angler...
Soon the day began to draw to a close but still I angled on with nothing to show for my efforts not only this, the lake seemed to get dark a lot quicker than anywhere else I have ever fished, in short there was without a doubt a strange atmosphere; not a sound nor a breath of wind...nothing...
I forgot to mention that due to the nature of the swim I could not erect a shelter or set my bed chair up, so I did what anyone would do and that was to sleep on a slope, on the floor next to my rods...luckily I also practise bushcraft in the wild coastal woods where I grew up/live so I was not fazed to sleep on a poncho tarp under the stars on a dangerous slope in a swim that has a very sad history...
Now there is a method to my madness, you see there are snags and there are snags one thing I did not want to do was mess up my chance of landing just one of the famous fish...
During a long and uneventful and fitful night with myself many times having to check myself from sliding over and into the depths a little window of light appeared up and above the great canopy of ancient woodland around the lake...and, as the darkness came to light, a sight that would quicken the pulse of any angler became visible; there over my two baited spots was a mass of fizzing and bubbling...I waited full of anticipation....I knew that, this was it. My chance was here and NOW!
It doesn't matter what type of fishing you do, the best indicator of all is the main line; it tells the story...so I carefully watched that line where it entered the pool like a buzzard watching a rabbit on Rough Tor...Every now and again the line flicked and moved, with no auditable sound from my sensitive alarms...
I was still watching the water like a hawk, and noticed straightaway that the fizzing and bubbling had stopped - but I wasn’t concerned. I don't know if this is some sort of sixth sense I have or it’s because I was so very tuned in but my inner most thought told me to keep still and get ready...at this precise moment, my line tightened before my indicator arm even moved and then all hell let loose: I had hooked a beast! It was heading straight for the very significant left hand snag, I knew it had reached it because at that point the hook came out and the lead and rig landed next to me with a rather sad `plop`....now if ever you fish with me you will learn I NEVER get down or disheartened at the loss of a fish...not even from the famous pool - as I knew that even though I had lost one the others were catchable.
So a quick recast and out onto the same spot as last time, and there was still a lot of fizzing going on too...I was still very confident.
It wasn`t long before I started getting liners again...then it happened again; the left hand open water rod took on a life force of its own. After a spirited fight in the upper layers and with no dramas, laying in my landing net was a beautiful history fish - maybe it had been caught beforehand by famous anglers...who knows? But at that moment this was “my” time.
As I photographed the wonderful creature in the morning sunlight I realised that in a strange way I was a little sad, maybe I thought this place was better kept as a dream only and not to experience it in a worldly form. I then told myself off, sorted the rod out, recast and put the mini 28 trangia on for a quick cuppa...
Just as the `one pot does it all` boiled, the right hand rod line tightened, the spool on my small Ultegra whizzed, I was in again this time though I knew where that snag was and after a very hairy fight with my 2.5tc through action rod almost creaking at the butt another `proper beauty fish` lay in the already wet mesh.
I was happy.....I photographed this one too, not easy on a uber sloping bank I can tell you! I slipped the fish back into the ominous depths. What had just happened was my window, and I was aware that the moment had passed as all bubbling had ceased and the lake looked dark and brooding once again, almost sinister.
It was time to pack up and go.
Exist to fish and enjoy the countryside
Written by Adam Roots
