Shatterford Lakes on the off-chance

There I was, driving happily along the A442 in search of a) River fishing at Hampton Loade. I arrived there to find that I needed a BAA licence in order to fish! (Found out later that if I'd have walked the other way from the ferry, I'd have found a section owned by the Kinver Freeliners and could have paid a day ticket - Duh! Oh well, that;s for another day) and b) Poole Hall Fishery at Alveley. Disorientated by the early morning and lack of Shreddies, I headed along the A442 in the wrong direction, saw a fishery sign and turned in, only to find myself not at Poole Hall, but Shatterford Lakes. I didn't know it existed but after an extremely friendly welcome ( I emphasise this because I have since read that the reception here can sometimes be a small cereal flake covered in sugar - Frosty Ha Ha!) from Chris co-owner (I think), and a detailed guide the handful of lakes hidden away here, I decided to stay a while and fling a few hooks.

The day was over cast, but I tried not to. Just to the right
was Cardiac hill. I picked my way through the remains of
former anglers who underestimated its ferocity on the way
back to the car park!

My vehicle was pointed in the direction of a narrow but steep track that bordered several of the lakes here. I rolled all the way to the bottom and parked in a spot overlooking the most picturesque of the set, Stuart's Lake. Here it was but a short downhill tramp (they call the slope 'Cardiac Hill' but I can't imagine why?) to the pool side. A fellow fisherman with three rods in the water assured me that he was going great guns with the carp and catfish in this pool, although he had been there since November 2009 (I jest, only two days and nights) After departing wisdom and advice about luncheon meat and boilies, I shuffled along the side under the weight of my back pack and collapsed in a likely looking spot, Choosing the hair-rigged luncheon meat (Spam Spam Spam) approach.

Now, a few people (my next door neighbour Maud for one) have asked me 'Riviera Kid, what in carp's name is a hair rig when it's at home?' Now, I don't know what planet Maud has been living on since the 1970's but the hair rig is quite simply the most effective rig to use for carp EVER (excluding dynamite)! So, if you know all about hair rigging, you might want to skip this paragraph.

The hair rig - The delicious alternative
to dynamiting for carp

As you can see from the expertly informative picture, the bait is actually mounted on a small length of line (the 'hair') just behind the hook. It is placed on by passing a baiting needle through the meat, pulling the line through by the small loop tied in its end and then placing some sort of stopper through the loop to stop the meat falling off. You can buy plastic stoppers but as you can see in the picture, I have cunningly used a small piece of folded grass to add to the natural look of processed meat lying at the bottom of a lake! The theory behind this little beauty is that carp feed by sucking in potential food and spit it out before deciding to eat it. When this happens with the hair rig, the strategically placed hook 'skewers' them on the 'spit' (my non-technical phrase) stage of the operation. In my experience, you get a higher percentage of cleanly hooked fish using this method. You can buy sets of hair-rigged hooks from any good tackle shop (I like Hingley's in Stourbridge - Excellent) or you can tie your own using an extremetly clever 'knotless knot' method (see the cool video below  for a quick guide) I favour the buying method as trying to tie extremely small knots can lead to headaches, blindness and a severe case of perforated finger syndrome.

Big Jim. A carp of almost dustbin lid proportions!

Anyway, despite using this masterly tackle set-up, I didn't do awfully well in my day's session until the last half hour when I bagged my on and only common carp. A decent, if extremely portly, 6.5lb common. Throughout the afternoon, gigantic carp were scudding along the surface of the lake hoovering up and bread or floating pellets that I cared to throw in, except of course the ones that contained my hook, proving that fish can do internet research on fishing techniques also. Next time, I think that I might try one of the two specimen lakes that are here at Shatterford. A bit more expensive but probably worth it if you land a 40lb catfish.

Oh, and Cardiac Hill. Now I understand.

Riviera Kid

Return of the Pond with no name!

So here I am once more at this tiny little backwater (not in the literal sense. Or maybe it is? Who knows!) with my carp gear and sandwiches (see previous blog on Pond with no name for more background info). The pool still looks overgrown and idyllic, the car parking is still dangerous for non 4x4s, and the cost is still a fiver. The only new thing this season is a couple more cleared spots on the bank that can serve as pegs, and it was to one of these, at the less attractive end of the pool, that I was drawn.

The view from the bin zone. Not the nicest niff, but great
access to a remote island in the Atlantic. Notice the now
defunct cattle enclosure on the right, thankfully devoid
of defunct cattle!

It was an area situated right next the one and only dustbin on the site (nice smell of old meat) so not the sort of place you'd bring the wife or fiancee, but for me it looked ideal because it was opposite a small shaggy Island that spewed forth a couple of nicely overhanging trees. Its near to an area that I have had some success before but the newly cleared zone gave me a little more direct access to the spot of water that I wanted.

There are quite a lot of fish in this pool and I think a lot of them are wild. I decided I was going to hunt out a few of the big ones so I set myself up with a hair-rigged strawberry boilie that looked nice enough to have on a sandwich. I took my time to cast just in front of the trees, without, thankfully, the heartache and embarrassment of getting stuck in them. I employed a technique known world wide as the underarm plop (What? You've never heard of it? Where have you been?) to place my strawberry delight right on the button.

Carp a la strawberry delight. Notice the well organised
set up of the Riviera Kid. As tidy as his bedroom.

Now throughout the whole day, I only caught three fish. The first, a smallish bream who had an amazing talent for filling his mouth beyond all reason with boilie. The second was a fantastic looking common carp weighing in at 6.5lbs. Beautiful in colour and flawless in its sheen, I was quite convinced that I'd reached the peak of my day. A call along the bank to a fellow angler and he very kindly took a piccy (through gritted jealous teeth no doubt!)

Satisfied, I planned to take another hour or two to wallow in the great fish that I had just nabbed. The clouds around started to darken a little and the other three anglers all decide to call it a day and pack up, so I was starting to get the desire for chicken curry and a nice frosted can of Guinness myself. Just a few more casts. And boy am I glad that I hung on.

Wow, a giant torpedo of a carp. The yellow object that you
can see in the picture is actually a two-person kayak, just
to give you some idea of the size!

Do you recall that memorable scene from jaws when Robert Shaw is sitting around eating a cheesy cracker and the reel on his gear starts to gently click round a few notches. Everything goes quiet and just as he straps himself in to his reinforced seat, the fish takes off an the reel screams like a formula one engine and the rod bends like a grass stalk. Well, guess what, the same thing happened here. A few short clicks of the bait runner reel, I brace myself in my reinforced camping chair and suddenly the reel takes off, nearly taking me and the rod with it. After a good ten minute struggle and unheard cries of 'We're gonna need a bigger boat!' I managed to land the most glorious looking 14lb common carp. A personal record and wouldn't you know it, no one there to share in the victory or sigh the chitty. I had to photograph it on the unhooking mat but  it was the fittest, sleekest, most muscular carp that I have ever caught. I even thought for a short while that it might be a grass carp as it was so long and slender but on reflection, the snout was not upturned enough.

Anyway, with it safely returned, I did depart, happy, for a well deserved curry and glass of the dark stuff. Happy days

Riviera Kid

The Sweet smell of specimen fishing at Lavender Hall Fishery

When you've been catching carp for a while and the five to eight pounders are becoming a regular occurrence, you start to get a little cocky and begin dreaming of bagging a world record, or at least one that causes your biceps to strain and your back to ache a little when you pick it up. So with this in mind, Jocky and I decided it was time to drag our backsides down to what is commonly called a 'specimen lake!' thinking 'How hard can it be?' and 'We'll just use bigger lumps of luncheon meat!' - Easy! No.

Postman Pat finds a convenient parking space while
delivering the Riviera Kid's copy of the Beano spring
fishing guide

The venue we chose for our big game extravaganza was Lavender Hall Fishery in Coventry. We arrived early and after negotiating a small farmyard hay-bail storage style car-park we were pleased to find a picturesque cafe and tackle shop next to one of the five lakes that are contained here. After a pleasant chat to the friendly owner and a delicious cup of coffee (always a good barometer of a fishing venue in my book) we opted with bravado for the 'Station' specimen pool. At £13 for a day ticket, it's a little more expensive than we were used to, but with thoughts of landing a great white shark of a carp, we were more than happy to shell out the going rate. We collected our tickets, braced ourselves for a phone call to Norris McWirter and asked for directions.

A nice scenic picture of Jocky's chair. He was off checking
the voltage on the train line.

Now, you might wonder that 'The Station' is an odd name for a fishing lake. So did we. That is until we trundled on down in the red van and found that we were situated a mere twenty-five feet from a stopping point on the West coast main line (or something to that effect). Conveniently situated for vanless fisher folk or a quick shopping trip into the city, but a bit disconcerting when your best carp-summoning spells are broken with automated cries of 'Mind the gap' and 'Beware of the doors (of perception??)' Still, it didn't seem to bother any of the entrenched bivvied bods that were scattered around the its shores. I think Jocky found it a little more of a strain as he has a bit of a soft spot for locomotive engineering and the instant recall of West Midland train timetables. Thank goodness it wasn't an Eddie Stobart depot or I wouldn't have seen him for dust! 

Jocky's dream of a bream. We did think about frying it for
our sandwiches, but stuck to Snickers bars instead.

Anyway, to cut out the waffle, this specimen fishing is not as easy as it seems (No! You don't say!) You can't just chuck out your pound of ham and expect the lesser spotted giant carpicuss to roll in every five minutes. Jocky did at least have time to pour us both and excellent cup of coffee, and finish most of our lunch before he had the first hit. A nice bream. But hardly the fish we'd been dreaming of. A couple of lads camped out along the bank pulled out a great fish of about 15lb so that kept our spirits up. The next few hours were spent frustratingly pulling out 'smallish' silver fish and visiting the rather nice cafe, and to be honest, we were just coming to the conclusion that we were not cut out to be specimen anglers when, yes, you guessed it, We had our first big triumph!!!

Thomas the tank engine arrived on the dot of 4:15. A
real elbow-creaker of a common.

After a short battle of no more than ten minutes, The Riviera Kid struck gold with a decent fish of 10lbs. 'Only ten?' I hear you shout. Yes, only ten but actually my biggest carp to date and, we thought at the time, the start of a lucky streak. The fish looked ok but it had a bit of scale damage on its upper back. With one whale in the bag, we continued with renewed enthusiasm for a while longer. Alas, aside from a couple more silvers, we had no luck and reverted once more to the comfort eating of the cafe.


I think we were a bit too hopeful of cashing in big at our first visit to a specimen lake and rather underestimated the time that has to be put in to bag the big 'uns. I'm sure that there are people who strike lucky first time (plenty of photographs on the cafe wall of eight year old kids putting my ten pounder to shame) but I think if we really want to move up a class, a bit more preparation is in order. In fact thinking about it, I rather fancy one of those camouflaged bivvies, my very own lakeside kettle and one of those comfy little bed seats that I can snooze on whilst not catching anything. Oh well, dream on.


Riviera Kid

Once more into the fire of the Furnace . . .

Well, Jocky and I couldn't resist it. As soon as the sun threatened to pop out of the grey Spring sky, we dragged our Fairweather backsides out to the wonderful Furnace Mill Fishery in the hope of another amateur carp fest. Well, the weather wasn't that fair (bleak and rainy for much of the time with the occasional spell of sunshine - crumbs matey, I am Michael Fish!!!) but the fishing was! It just goes to show that Mozambique Matt was right, this place just can't fail to disappoint.

Spring hasn't quite sprung but the
Riviera Kid stalks his prey
in the foothills of beyond. With full
 view of convenient car park.

We were actually first on the scene again, and after a lovely 'waggy' welcome from Henry, the mild mannered spaniel, we paid our subs and began our trip on the quaintly labelled 'Mucky Meadow' pool just in front of the car park, choosing two likely looking pegs on the far bank. Light rain forced the early introduction of gorgeous green fishing brollies and we both let fly with large hunks of luncheon meat fished on a size 8 hair rig (adventurous eh - we were after the big game this time!)

It wasn't long before Jocky, once more, was the first to feel a tug on his waggler and sure enough, he pulled out a lovely common, a perfect golden nugget to get the day going. For the next two hours, we reeled in a steady flow of fish, ranging from 2.5 to 8lb, all caught on Cost cutter's best spam (mmm, don't know about you, but I can never resist a nibble - takes me back to school dinner in days of yore) Me on the ledger and Jocky on the float.

Jocky measures up and his fans are not
disappointed - The ruler is actually 8 feet
long! Just to give you a sense of
 the scale of our success!!!

I've said this before, but the other great thing about Furnace Mill, apart from the ever friendly welcome that you get, is the availability of tackle food and toilet facilities on site. The coffee is excellent and made to order. The only downside to our day up to that point was the invasion of the other bank by a gaggle of loud yampies, fishing in their nightclub gear and/or specially camouflaged chav caps.

Still, at least they settled down to a bit of fishing eventually, by which point my good pal and I decided to up sticks to another pool (There are just too many lovely spots to choose from here!) so we lugged our gear and sandwiches over to the Furnace pool and tried out the narrow section that looks like a canal.

I switched to floating bread as it had warmed up a bit and the great thing about this part of the pool is that you can see large, carp shaped submarines scudding along from one end to the other. I've also said this before, but the best kind of fishing that you can do is to stalk carp with nothing more than rod, hook, line and wet hunks of Warburton's. The feeling of anticipation as big, thick carp lips rise out of the water and suck up your offerings like a vacuum cleaner is unbeatable! Whilst I was up and down the bank, Jocky preferred the more sedentary approach, landing carp after carp from the comfort of his armchair (all he needed was his slipper and a pipe - see video) We successfully dragged out a handful of meaty fish until the daylight began to fade and the bastard midges began to bite.

Overall, I still can't speak highly enough of Furnace Mill as a relaxing, top notch venue for the pleasure angler. It's definitely worth a visit, if only to stroke the dog and taste the coffee.

Riviera Kid

Simply too big to handle - the best gudgeon
of the day.

Carp fishing at the Vineyard

Good weather, good company and a shed load of fish. What more can a man ask for? Good coffee? Dancing girls?Well, take a flask and put bromide in your brew, that's what we did when we rolled up at the carp pool at Halfpenny Green Vineyards near Dudley in Staffordshire in late July (not really on the bromide - isn't that what they use for painting fences?)

Riviera Kid on fire!

Being the fairweather type, the sun had to be shining, and of course it was on this quiet, picturesque little pool tucked just behind a vineyard (yes - an actual English vineyard that makes nice wine and sells strong cheese!) The carpark is dusty and rough enough to knock out your false teeth but leaves you only with a 45 second walk to the pool, beautifully kept, with about 20 to 30 fishing pegs in amongst the trees and the reeds and the lilies.

You pay £6.00 for a day's fishing and although there are a few bait and tackle restrictions that seem a bit petty (no boilies, no floating baits, no tins on the bank, no action man T-shirts, size 14 hooks or smaller - which is too small!) all you need is a big slab of best value luncheon meat and you're away.

Jocky on the ocky

My comrade for the day, Jocky (henceforth known as 'Jocky') hadn't fished since the last milenium, and then only down the local cut as a lad where you'd be lucky to bag one or two gudgeon in amongst the whales (in the Black Country, whales is what you have on your bike, one at the front and one at the rear!) And let me tell you, he was blown away and hardly had time to sit down and drink his bromide.

From the moment his waggled luncheon meat on a size 14 hair rig hit the bottom, he was pulling in the carp, none of them smaller than 1/2lb and plenty in the 2 to 3lb range. The biggest we had that day was a four pound GIANT mirror carp (to me, of course) which I called Gary, although a chap further up landed and whopping 18lb mirror after about half an hour's dancing. The best place to fish seemed to be right in the margins, and the chap who collected the money advised me to fling sweetcorn violently at the water just by my feet to bring the fish running. By golly it worked!

Gary

If anything, the fishing was a little too easy with time between fish being no more than twenty minutes at any moment. You certainly become spoilt and it could give the newbie a dangerously false view of the joys of fishing.

However, who wants to go somewhere and catch nothing? Not The Fairweather Fisherman matey-boy. So all in all, a great day out and some nice bushes to go and pee behind. Next blog, first time fly fishing at Delbury Hall.

Riviera Kid, The Fairweather Fisherman