As with my local Allsmoor Pond on Monday, my other local Jeanes Pond, a couple of miles away, has caused me to suffer several blank sessions this winter too, but continued warm weather has brought the fish on the feed. Arriving in mid afternoon, I was plumbing the depth by 3 pm and deciding on feeding the bottom of the drop off, four metres out at five feet deep, fishing a few inches over depth with a BB tell tale shot 6 inches from the size 14 barbless hook on a 2G antenna float rig. This rig was bulk shotted to avoid, I hoped, the hundreds of 3 inch roach and rudd near the surface.

Next step was to mix up my feed, half and half liquidised bread with raspberry flavoured ground bait, and a sprinkling of ground hemp, the mix wetted down to form firm balls, that would only break up close to the bottom, in an attempt pass through the small fry quickly. Three egg sized balls were fed in along the drop off in front of me and I finished off setting out my stall, ready to fish, starting with a 6 mm punch on the size 14 hook. Dropping the rig straight down on the 4 metre pole, seemed at first to avoid the very small stuff, the first bite being a lift of the antenna and a small roach.

After a few more like this one, the float went in and kept going under and I lifted into a heavier fish, that ran off like a small carp, staying deep. The landing net came out and the wide gape of a perch came to the surface, trying to shake the hook free. Perch on the bread punch? With so many fry in the water, I’ve often taken perch on the drop, that chase fish after the punch and end up hooked themselves.

The four metre line was now producing lift bites from small four inch rudd and I tried an extra joint on the pole at five metres, putting in some very firm one inch balls of feed along that line, while going up to a 7 mm punch. This brought some instant dive aways of the float, from more small roach, bumping some and landing others. One of these bites producing a hard fighting rudd.

After this rudd, I noticed that large single bubbles were coming at regular intervals along the four metre drop off and moved back in the hope of a tench. A couple of lift bites brought small roach, and a similar lift saw a relaxed strike from me, only for the float to stay down and the pole to bend into a heavy fish, that made off slowly to my right stretching out the elastic.  I guessed that this was a tench, or maybe even a pike, as this was a slow rolling fight. The elastic was at full stretch and beginning to tell on the unseen fish, which turned back toward me, the float becoming visible for the first time. I broke the pole down to three metres as the fish rolled in front of me. It was a big tench and pulled it toward the landing net, which it thankfully swam straight into. Lifting the net up, I could see the hook in the top lip, which came out with a sharp push of my disgorger.

Laying the female tench onto the unhooking mat, I took a quick photo, only to be interupted by a couple of oriental ladies from Hong Kong. One only spoke broken English, the other none, gesturing to me holding an imaginary bowl, while scooping fish into her mouth! I shook my head saying that it was going straight back. Wagging her finger in disagreement, she repeated the imagined scooping of fish into her mouth. They were a very nice pair of ladies, who no doubt were refugies from the troubles in Hong Kong, after we handed the colony back to the Chinese, only for them to abolish democracy. No politics on here, but it needed saying in these troubled times.

The more fluent lady offered to take my photo, so here it is. Fame at last!

I’d been fishing for only about an hour, but I felt that anything after this four and a half pound tench, wouldbe an anti-climax and decided to get home for an early Tea.

The good old bread punch strikes again!

I’ve not known such a prolonged period of hard fishing conditions as the last few months. My local river suffered floods and pollution, where reliable swims for winter roach and chub were biteless. One friend turned up, as I was setting up in my prolific weir swim, where the outfall from the town’s supposed clean water is released into my local river Cut. Martin had been working his way downstream, trying swims and not getting any bites so decided to try “Ken’s Swim”, only to find me setting up my stickfloat rod. I’d already introduced a couple of balls of liquidised bread and was about to make my first cast, saying that the float would disappear first cast with a chub, or roach on the end. Nothing? Hard to believe, I kept at it for an hour, laying on, trotting through all over the swim. Not a touch. I packed up. A father and son, who usually fish the River Kennet, came back to the Cut to “bag up” for the last day of the river season, fishing several prime swims and ending up at the outfall. No bites!

Allsmoor Pond has always been a fish haven for me, one of my best catches of over twenty pounds of rudd, crucians and carp coming to the bread punch on a frosty February day with ice in the margins. Being within walking distance of my home, it is a regular part of morning walks with my wife and I have been monitoring the lack of surface activity each time, also talking with other anglers, who were biteless. Despite the gloomy replies, I have also fished with optimism a few times, convinced that fine canal tactics would work, which did on a warm sunny day, seven gudgeon and tiny rudd, but a week later another biteless afternoon.

A new week following days of sunshine and and I walked down at 3 pm to Allsmoor more optimistic than usual, surely the fish would bite today? Studying the surface, there were still no signs of activity, no cruising carp, or even small rudd dimpling the surface. Oh well, let’s give it a go. There were no others present and I set up in the hot gudgeon swim of the last blank, mixing up a small amount of plain liquidised bread, hooking a 6 mm punch of bread to the size 16 barbless hook and swinging out the 4 x 16 antenna float over the slowly sinking ball of bread. The float sat motionless for fifteen minutes, before a slight dip of the antenna indicated some interest. More dips and the float moved off. I lifted and a rudd skidded across the surface, not a bad one either.

With growing confidence, I mixed some new raspberry flavoured groundbait into the liquidised bread, adding water to form soft balls, that I plopped into an area eight metres out, watching them break up on impact to filter down to the muddy bottom.

Pin prick bubbles were soon bursting on the surface and the float slid under again with a better rudd fighting back.

A few more rudd and I was getting into a rythm, sliding the pole back into the rollers on the slope behind, then breaking down to the top two to swing the fish in. I missed a few bites, until leaving the float under for ten seconds resulted in a gudgeon.

A couple more gudgeon tap, tap, sink bites later, I was wondering where the rudd had gone, when after letting the float sink away, the elastic stretched out of the pole as a carp hooked itself. Lifting the pole was too much against the solid weight of the carp, as it sped across the pond, but I managed to put side strain on, while the pole took on a dangerous bend. I’ve only just bought this pole and the heavy elastic was putting us all to the test, but raising the pole to a shallow angle allowed some control over the circling monster. I have seen some very big carp in this pond and this was definitly one of them. It’s big bronze head came out and it’s tail slapped the surface, a good sign that it was tiring, although no-one told the carp that, as it turned and headed back across the pond. I’d gained four metres on the pole and it was heading my way, when I unshipped the pole to the top two and stuck out the landing net, which it passed under. Sensing less pressure, it turned and spurted away and the elastic pinged the rig back. Not broken, the size 16 barbless had come out. This is not the first time. I had started off fishing for bites and should have put on a size 14 once the bites had started coming. Lack of experience, as one of my matchman friends would have said.

Piling in the last of my goundbait and putting on a size 14 barbless to a heavier hook link, I started again. The water in front of me was churned up with black mud, which had encouraged the rudd to feed and they began taking the 7 mm punch of bread without hestation. This was the best of them.

At about 5:30 the rudd seemed to stop feeding, maybe they were all in my net? I wish! I was back to gudgeon bites, until one gudgeon stayed down and ran ten yards in seconds, before coming off. A small common, but more likely a nibbling crucian carp. Back in again another dip, drag, dip bite, that slowly sumerged. I lifted to a mini explosion of power, that surfaced to reveal a small dark crucian.

In again, yet another nibbling bite. These crucians can take an age to get the bait inside their upturned mouths. It was getting close to 6 pm and the sun was going down fast. I struck and swung in a small rudd! That was it. Time to pack up.

This new French raspberry groundbait seems to work. My old Belgian raspberry flavoured one has been changed, the packet is the same, but what is inside is very different. Someone suggested that it is due to new EU rules and certain food additives being banned. I used to use dried blood to good effect once, but after the Mad Cow disease outbreak, it was changed and not as good. Plain liquidised bread is also brilliant on it’s day, but anglers are always looking for the ultimate fish attractor.

A big improvement on recent outings.