The Indian Summer is long gone, now we have cold foggy mornings and thermals on to go fishing, with no sign of sun before lunchtime and darkness by 5 pm. On Friday morning, a weak sun was peeking through the mist, as I drove my wife into town. Seeing the drying roads, she commented that I hadn’t been fishing this week. “Not bothered” I’d replied. Sad, but true, going fishing at this time of year requires enthusiasm, which I didn’t have. A frosty chill on the water, lowers the body emperature of cold blooded fish and can shock fish enough to stop them feeding, so who wants to sit in the cold and struggle for bites? Not me, but by the time that I had returned home, the sun was bright and warm on my skin. I changed my mind. Allsmoor Pond is very close to my home, it is very shallow and quick to warm up, with a south facing aspect. At least I would be warm.

Of course, although I had got my liquidised bread from the freezer and swapped my float rod for a pole in quick time, I arrived at Allsmoor to see that the mist was rolling in again, shrouding out the sun. Only a month ago, the lily bed was stretching over in my direction, now it had died back to the far side. There were no signs of fish movements, although there was a plus point, there was no wind and no leaves littering the surface. It didn’t take me long to set out my stall, strawberry flavoured groundbait, a 4 x 16 antenna float rig to a size 16 barbless hook with a 6 mm punch of bread and I was ready. A few small balls of groundbait out at 8 metres, soon persuaded a rudd to respond to the punch with a slideaway bite.

As I steered this small rudd past a branch in the water, it became entangled in a length of line attached to the branch. I pulled the line in. I intially thought that it was a night line, a baited line left in the water over night, for a carp to swallow, to be pulled in and taken for food the following day. Thankfully there was no baited hook, but the line was a surprise, it was at least 20 lb breaking strain. The biggest carp that I have had out of here was 8 lb and that was on the pole with elastic and 5 lb line. No need for this stuff.

I coiled it up and cut through the coils with my scissors. It was tough old line. Who would fish with anything this strong? Poaching was rife in this pond at one time and I am sorry to say that I have found many here over the years, but none with a fish on. A favourite was to attach the line to a brightly coloured aerosol can, which was then tied to the end of a whippy branch. When the carp swallowed the bait, it would run and hook itself against strain of the whippy branch. This was the method used by a gang of four East Europeans, that was emptying another local pond of carp, they would sit on bank side seats and watch for movement of the aerosol can from the opposite side of the pond. They would then go round and collect the carp and put it in a wetted canvas bag. These four were observed and caught by the club secretary, who was also a retired police sergeant. There were live carp in the bag, which were released. I don’t know what happened to the gang.

The rudd were feeding, but I had no sign of my target carp, but the rudd were obliging, despite being very cold to the touch, so continued taking them at regular intervals. Nothing big, but keeping me busy, pulling back, breaking down to the top two sections, unhook, rebait and extend the pole and swing the rig out over the baited area again.

Colour variations, usual red fins.

Green fins.

Orange Fins.

Usually, when a carp comes around into the swim, the rudd move off, but this did not happen, the only quiet periods were taken over by gudgeon.

The path around the pond is very narrow and every minute, or so, my pole blocked the path, while supported behind me, as I unhooked a fish and rebaited the punch. I was aware of a pair of trainers to my right, as I blocked the path again and appologised to the legs, saying that I would only be a minute. The legs had a voice. “Don’t worry, I’ve been watching you from the other side of the pond. It’s good to see a real fisherman, who knows what he is doing fishing this pond.” This began an All Our Yesterdays conversation about match fishing in the 70s, through to the 90s. We had both fished for competitive teams in Open Matches, Winter Leagues and Nationals and both had been tutored to fish the Bread Punch by top London anglers on the Grand Union Canal. He still had his rods, reels and poles of thirty years ago. We laughed over the fact that I am still using my 50 year old rods. He was no longer married and was considering taking up fishing again, all he needed was a new keep net, as his old one had been eaten by mice. It was now 4 pm, the fog was coming down and the light was going fast, so we shook hands and I began packing up.

I had gone up to an 8 mm punch, but still caught rudd, or gudgeon, trying to attract a carp, but I think the cold weather had put them off. Last month I had seven common carp, three of them around two pounds, but today was a different story.

Summing up, this was not my expected result, a few common carp would have brightened a dull day, while I wonder what has happened to the many crucian carp that were the main attraction here a couple of years ago. At least I’d met a like minded angler, who may just get his rods out again.