FL13 - Page 167

Summer Tactics and Edges
curve, the tip suddenly sprang back
leaving me with my line swinging in
the morning air. I checked the line. It
was in good condition, but it must
have made contact with something
sharp in the weed, which cut the line
clean through. The rig was totally safe
so I knew the fish wouldn’t be in any
danger; the lead would have broken
away for sure, as it was tied on with
4lb nylon. With regard to leadcore, the
top bead would have slipped off,
allowing the leader to fall through the
uni-link swivel, leaving the fish safe to
swim free.
I had one more night left and John
was leaving at lunchtime. I really
wanted to check the areas that I was
fishing with the marker, to see how
big or how small the spots were. I
flicked the marker out to the left and
was getting a nice firm drop among
some light weed, so I was able to
draw the marker back about 2ft. I didn’t bother to use the marker rod on
the right-hand spot. I over-cast,
bounced the lead back to a small but
firmer silt spot and placed the line in
the clip ready for casting. Happy with
both areas, I reduced the distance
between the beads, only giving the
rig seven inches of movement, and
making landing the hookbait on the
money an easier task.
Eventually, I had both rods ready
with fresh pop-ups. Casting the rod
next to the weedbed was easy, due to
it being in the line clip, but when it
came to doing the other rod it was a
nightmare. How I do this in the dark I
don’t know. The swim was narrow
with loads of overhanging foliage so I
kept clipping the branches as I made
my cast. I took two steps to the left,
hoping that this would give me a bit
more room, and the very next cast I
was bang on the money. I was starting to get frustrated, but with both
rods done, it was time to sit back and
I don’t normally get in the bag in
the summer, but it was raining and
turning cold, so I thought, ‘Sod it, no
point in suffering.’ I always worry
about the zip getting jammed though,
so once I was in the bag I tested the
zip to make sure it opened – sad I
know. The zip passed with flying
colours so I went to sleep, but when I
was woken by the Neville absolutely
screaming, I pulled down on the zip
tag and nothing happened. I was
trapped in the bag! My worst fear had
come true. The buzzer was going
mad, so in the end I crawled out of the
bag, slid half my body over the head
part of the bedchair, and then flipped
my leg out the bag landing in a heap,
covered in mud. This happened a lot
quicker than it takes to tell!
By the time I reached the rod, the
fish was through the other side of the
weedbed, but I managed to turn him,
and was gaining some line when the
fight changed and I couldn’t control
the fish. The rain was so heavy that it
sunk the weed over my line and was
pinning it down, but if I could just
k e e p h i m m o v i n g, I h a d a g o o d
chance of landing this one. The fish
was about 10yds out when the tip
sprang back and I lost him. In a fit of
anger, I threw the rod in the bushes.
Cut off twice in one day! Just then,
Secret Dan turned up in my swim. He
said he’d heard the take, put on his
waterproofs, and then trotted round
to help. I told him what had happened
and thanked him for making the
effort. I reset the rod and got it back
out on the spot before boiling the kettle for a quick cuppa before I went to
bed. Gradually, I started to calm down
and saw the funny side of it; me
crawling out of the bag and landing
on the ground like a sack of shit!
Finally, it was morning and the sun
was full-on, doing a grand job of drying out my gear. I saw one fish down
by The Launch, again on the long
spot, but in front of me was dead. I
pushed the barrow round the steaming path to the car park and loaded
the gear into the car. I thought it
would be a good idea to grab the
marker rod and the little bit of bait
that I had left over, and check out The
Secret swim. They were definitely
getting in this area; I could see them
showing when I was fishing The Dog
Leg. I sent out the marker and found
my spot. It was small but situated in a
perfect ambush location, between
two weedbeds. The areas that I had
marked up in this swim previously to
this trip had now been surrounded
with more weed, and it wasn’t just
this swim that had a different look.
This end of the lake now had an
abundance of weed, making it more
appealing, to fish and angler.
I only had around 100 baits left
They were lovely and dark (Surrey).


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