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

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