Within a few miles of my home, I am very fortunate to have a wide variety of excellent fishing, yet never satisfied, I am always searching for somewhere new, ideally with better fishing. Carp have put in an appearance in my local river and they were high on my must catch list, but I have had a hankering to fish a club water over twenty miles away since before we were all locked down. My previous visit, over three years ago, had put some decent roach and pound crucian in my net during a brief morning session and I had always intended to return to give it a good go.

Rising early, I set off to beat the traffic and was doing well, until I hit a tailback in the filter lane off a busy dual carriageway. Two changes of the traffic lights later, I had turned up the hill towards my desired venue. The traffic was slow, but then it stopped again. A train was heading into the station and the level crossing gates had come down. Hand brake on and wait. And wait. Two trains, one in either direction. Sit and relax. The gates went up and we were moving forward slowly. A truck, held up like the rest of us on the opposite side, was trying to force its way across my queue, from a fork in the opposite direction, to join the traffic coming towards me. Horns blared and arms were waved from windows, until someone gave way and we moved on. Not far. The local school had opened its gates for the multitude of 4x4s to drop off their precious cargos. Cars were entering my road from all sides. In my day we walked, or cycled to school, but today’s parents believe that some form of evil harm will befall their offspring, so get out the gas guzzler.

At last I was on the country road, then driving down the rutted track to The Pond, parking at the Dam to avoid the crowded carpark. There was plenty of room for the van in front of another car, leaving space for its exit. Tackle on the trolley, I made my way across the dam towards another angler and stopped for a chat. “How’s it fishing?” I knew the answer from the look on his face. “Rubbish.” He was fishing two rods, had arrived the day before and had one crucian carp, then bivvied up for the night, risen at 4 am, lost one fish at 6 am and hadn’t had a bite since. As he said, rubbish. I moved into the swim next to him, it having a bed of lilies to my left.

It looked perfect, but where were all the anglers on the far side? The carpark had only one car in it. Oh dear. Looks like it has been rubbish for quite a while. The Bush Telegraph had spoken.

I had intended filling it in with the same strawberry mix, that had given me a big crucian, a common carp and two tench, plus a string of rudd from my local pond earlier in the week, but decided that a quarter of what I had used, would be safer. There was no sign of surface activity at all, no bubbles, or fish topping. Plumbing the depth, there was a sharp drop off from four to six feet half way along my side of the lily bed and set my 2 gram antenna float to fish three inches off bottom, with a 7 mm bread pellet on a size 16 barbless hook. I put in one small ball close to the lilies, followed by the float and waited.

After five minutes, the float gave a half dip, followed at intervals by others, before it eventually slowly sank below the surface. I struck. Missed it. The bread was still on the hook. Five minutes later I missed another bite. Same story. I punched out a 5 mm pellet for the hook. A better bite and a rudd in the landing net.

My neighbour was soon at my side, keen to see me catch a fish. We watched as the float dithered and half sank. The strike brought the elastic out briefly as a fish fought deep, then ran out to open water. Not a monster, but a hard fighting little crucian carp.

Two fish in ten minutes, maybe it would not be so bad after all. My neighbour was very interested in the bread punch and the pole, as I managed to miss the next two bites and drop another crucian, when I struck the fussy bite too soon. I put in a second small ball of the ground carp pellet and liquidised bread mix with a sprinkling of strawberry flavouring, dropping the float in over it. These bites were taking forever to develope, but patience was rewarded with another rudd.

This one was heavy with spawn, being barrel shaped. Maybe they were preoccupied with spawning and not feeding. My new friend lived in Watford, a 50 mile drive away, a long way for one fish. He had decided to start packing up, but returned when my net was out again. He had been using Peperami sausage as bait and offered me a piece, which I tried as a small cube on the hook. We talked of clubs and waters that we had in common, while we watched the motionless float being ignored. The ten minute trial was a failure and the bread went back on for more knocks leading to a fish on.

A roach this time, but again so lightly hooked that I was netting them all. I tried fishing higher in the water through the cloud, but after missing several bites and hooking a four inch roach, I went back down to the bottom. Time was ticking on and the one remaining angler on the far side was loading his car to leave. The occasional bubble was now rising from the edge of the lilies and I was encouraged to stay by another roach.

Convinced that my float rig was too heavy, I switched to a much lighter antenna float with a size eighteen hook. I think that this was more for my benefit rather than the fish, as the bites did not improve and my miss rate went up. Finally I hooked a roach, how I don’t know, as its lip was missing.

By now I had decided to join my neighbour, who was still ferrying his various bits of equipment back to his car. As if to taunt me, the float went under with a rudd, while I gathered my bits. The sun had come out and was already hot on my back, enough of an incentive to leave I thought.

One day I will visit this fishery at a more productive time.

I had time to pop in at another pond on the way back, maybe that was fishing better? I didn’t bother getting out my gear and wandered over to the pond. Three friends were fishing at adjacent swims. “How’s it fishing?” “Rubbish.” The grass is not always greener on the other side is it? I climbed back in the van and continued home.