FL11 All pages - Page 67

The Pink Linear
On more than one occasion I had two
runs at once.
in; there was line everywhere. I managed to salvage the middle rod, but
the left hand one, which was dragged
in, was in a hell of a mess and couldn’t
be saved. I recast, deciding to just use
the two rods and sort the left hand rod
out in the morning. At 1.30am the
recast rod was away again. Virtually
straight away I could tell it another
good fish, taking long heavy runs trying to reach the snags of the island.
While playing the fish in the margins
the remaining rod had a take, and
complete panic ensued. I upped the
pressure to get the fish in the net, but
not too much, as in the back of my
mind I knew there was a high risk of
getting a hook pull. After what felt
ages, I netted the fish, folded the net
over it in the margins, and then pulled
into the remaining rod, which had
luckily decided not to kite left. This
fish took what seemed like ages to get
in, and took me all over this end of the
lake. When I did get it in close, I managed to scoop it up first time with the
first fish still in the net, which was
lucky, as I felt that my arm was about
to drop off.
I peered into the net and was pleas-
antly surprised at what I had. The first
fish was a mirror and weighed 32lb
4oz, and the second was a common of
23lb exactly. The mirror, I was to find
out later, is one of the known big’uns
of the lake called Big Scale.
Two more were caught during the
night, but were much smaller. I felt
the bigger fish had been through, and
now the smaller ones were clearing
up the remainder of any bait left out
there. As morning came I decided to
get another couple of kilos out, and
then try and get a couple of hours’
I was woken at 11.30 by a very welcome mirror of 26lb12oz, which made
the early morning spodding well
worth the effort, and then during the
afternoon I managed a couple more,
the biggest going 12lb 8oz. After that,
I lost one, which I knew was my own
fault; I was tired, and I gave it too
much stick. That evening I spent
spodding and sorting my rigs out
ready for the night ahead. The low
pressure had moved off, and things
slowed down for the next three
nights. I did catch a few, but nothing
like that first night. Also I was getting
more average size fish, in the upper
double to low-20 range. Anyway,
every evening I kept the bait going in,
in the hope of pulling the bigger fish
back in.
On the last morning at 7am the
right hand rod, which had always
been positioned on the outside edge
of the baited area, screamed off at an
alarming rate. I pulled into the fish
and instantly got flat-rodded as it took
line out into the lake. After a while I
managed to gain control, or so I
thought, when it decided to kite left in
the direction of the island. I wound
down hard and pulled the rod down
low and to the right as the fish
skimmed the bush line of the island.
At one point I thought it had made
sanctuary as it became stuck, but
after a bit of pulling it was on the
move again. Eventually I got it in front
of the island, eased off the pressure
slightly, and got into the enjoyment of
playing it. The fish continued to make
big heavy runs across the bottom of
the lake, and was refusing to come up
in the upper layer of the water.
I waded out to get to the edge of
the marginal shelf, and eventually it
started to come up. A guy I had met
the previous evening had packed up
and was loading up his van, and
when he saw I was in, he came over
to watch before he headed off to
work. The fish was tiring, and, inch-


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