There is an old saying that the best laid plans of mice and men often go awry and so it was this week, when I spent a hot hour in the afternoon clearing a swim at my local pond, ready for a few hour’s carp and crucian bashing after dinner.

My early dinner got scuppered, when a friend of my wife called to invite her out for an evening with the “Girls”, before settling down for a blow by blow account of who had done what with whom since Lockdown. This was not too much bother, as I busied myself getting sorted and loading up the fishing trolley ready for the walk to the pond.

Spaghetti Bolognese prepared and eaten in record time and I was ready to go fishing, when it was my turn to receive a phone call. Having arranged with my brother for a motorcycle ride to meet at a pub half way between his Banbury home and mine the next day, he had just found out that the road on his side was closed. Trying to explain that I was running out of fishing time fell on deaf ears and a change of venue was scouted on Google, then a new route planned. Phew! Was it still worth going fishing? Of course!

I had hoped to be here for 6 pm, but it was now close to 7 and I first mixed up a damp mix of liquidised bread and ground carp pellets, throwing out four balls to cover an area eight metres into the deeper channel of the shallow pond. By the time that I had set up my pole, bubbles were already bursting on the surface and first cast brought a nice rudd.

A good start, but next cast was even better as the elastic stretched out across water, when I lifted into a crucian carp.

This fish had an ulcerated growth protruding from its gill cover, which had not affected its fighting ability, although it would not win any beauty contests.

Bottom activity was now throwing up black mud, staining the area and I was soon in again with another hard fighting crucian stripping out the elastic. Shipping back the pole quickly, I had to lift it behind me to avoid the high bank, breaking down to the top three to guide the carp into the landing net.

Fish were coming thick and fast, the 7 mm punched pellet of bread being taken on the drop, without the usual crucian dithering with the bait.

The carp in this pond have been mixing their genes for years, the next one fighting like and having more common features, than crucian.

Some nice rudd were also in the mix. The float would settle, bob and sink away taking line. The end result being pot luck.

The can be no doubt over this carp above, a true crucian.

It was a bit like fishing in a bucket full of fish. Flick out the small waggler into the bubbles, watch it settle, slowly sink and sail away, until the line began to tighten and lift into another elastic stretching carp.

There are larger commons in this pond, but they tend to occupy the even shallower silted up end at the inlet, while the crucians and smaller commons are free biting and easier to handle.

There are many colour variations among the rudd, my camera not doing justice to this green tinged golden fish.

This rudd had more red than gold.

This was the final carp of a frantic hour of catching fish, the sun was long gone behind the trees and rudd had reclaimed the swim.

This little cut down 2 BB Billy Makin Canal Grey works wonders in only two feet of water.

Short and sweet. The session had not lasted long, but well worth the effort.