Well, it's been several weeks since I last sat down and penned a piece but if truth be told I don't have much material to write about currently.

I have managed several quick overnighter's on "Raptor" with nothing to show for my effort - in fact nothing has been landed by anyone since one of the big commons came out 4 weeks ago.

The water level is very low, at least a foot and half down and as far as I am aware the fish haven't spawned yet which is worrying so I intend on staying home for the next week or two and hopefully things will sort themselves out.

The highlight since my last entry came last weekend when I achieved a life long ambition of photographing a Kingfisher as it sat on my rods, I actually missed it the first time, it then came back a second time briefly which I managed to capture on my phone - I then set up my SLR to ninja mode and hid under the sleeping bag in the hope it would make an appearance for a 3rd consecutive time.

I didn't have to wait long, a mere 5 minutes later the male Kingfisher appeared again and seemed very comfortable as I clicked away, in fact it actually looked like it was posing - a truly unforgettable experience and a moment I shall treasure for the rest of my life.

I do unfortunately have some sad news, I made a tough decision a week ago and decided to give up my CC Moore sponsorship - it was a very tough call to make but I was putting so much pressure on myself whilst on the bank and at home that I just wasn't enjoying my fishing anymore - so something had to change.

CC Moore were fantastic during the 18 months that I was sponsored by them and not once did they ask anything of me or put pressure on me to deliver results which I shall be forever grateful for but I feel that the pressure I was putting on myself was jeopardizing what should be an enjoyable and relaxing experience.

With regards of future bait use, I have not jumped ship for more bait and if truth be told I'm really not interested in anymore sponsorship deals as I'm looking forward to having the freedom to do my own thing and fishing just for me.

I know this isn't the normal style of writing that you're used to seeing on this page but I don't want to hide anything and wanted to clear things up before questions are asked.

Until next time,

Smithy

It’s been a lot longer than I intended it to be since I sat down and wrote a piece, but unfortunately my head just hasn’t been in it and my mojo disappeared.

At the end of June we suffered the heart ache of a second miscarriage within 7 months, so understandably I haven’t been able to be far from home, several hospital visits later and my wife was finally on the mend – I kept my head busy by rolling pop ups in the kitchen and planted a couple of small fruit trees in the garden in memory of the little angels that we will never get to meet whilst keeping an eye on the kids whilst my wife rested up.

It was last week when I felt that I could slip away for a night, my Pete rang to see if I fancied a social on Duncan Kays old mid-northants water now known as Elsons and can be fished on a day ticket.

I felt it was just what I needed and it coincided with Pete’s birthday so if the leviathans didn’t want to play ball we could be certain that a good social would be had.

We planned on fishing the Sunday night in the hope that the busy complex would be quieter, so with the Monday booked off work I set about having a good sort out of the kit on the Saturday night.

With summer suddenly engulfing the country in an unexpected heat wave I had to lighten the load as I expected I would have to keep very mobile just setting little traps – I looked at everything I normally take, if I hadn’t used it in the last 3 sessions it got chucked.

Sometime later the gear that had been on a huge weight loss program was loaded in the van before spending a few hours with the wife and kids asking her on more than one occasion if she minded me going.

Evening soon turned to night and eventually I went to bed hoping that the muggy night wouldn’t keep me awake and sometime in the early hours I fell asleep not waking until 10am, the last few weeks had completely drained me and I was well overdue a decent sleep – I awoke feeling a lot more upbeat than normal and seemed to have a different fresh outlook on life.

I had planned to meet Pete down the lake at 3pm but by early afternoon I was getting itchy feet and ended up leaving home a fair bit earlier than I had needed to, although it was a good job that I did as it seemed every road that I tried to use was closed, it was 2:50pm when I eventually pulled through the gate so sat in the van with the blowers on in an attempt to keep cool whilst I waited for Pete to arrive.

It was just after 3pm when he pulled through the gate, we headed over to the small hut to purchase our tickets, fill our pockets with cans of cold drink then set off on a couple of laps of the lake.

It didn’t take long for us to find the fish, in the second swim we walked into had fish absolutely everywhere!

We stood watching them for a good 10 minutes slurping at the scum on the surface before Pete suggested we go and look for a few more – I just looked at him and laughed before saying “you are joking, they are all here – sod the walk, get the rods!” Pete just laughed and said “Come on, we’ve got all afternoon” so off we trotted.

An hour later we had looked in every nook and cranny off the small water and naturally I was right, every fish in the lake was in the second swim that we had walked into!

By the time we had got back to where we had originally started someone had turned up and was casting near to the showing fish from the corner, nowhere near where I intended going but I thought he may actually do me a favour by pushing them down to me if I could keep my swim quiet enough.

Within 10 minutes I had jogged back to the van, loaded the barrow and jogged back to the swim full of excitement – its didn’t take me long to tie up a couple of zigs, I didn’t want to cause any disturbance with a marker so guessed the depth I should be fishing and tied up 4 foot zig’s on both rods with a small bit of black foam as a hookbait then flicked them out 20 yards to where the fish were cruising I then felt the lead down – it felt to me about 5 foot deep so I had done pretty well with my guestimate.

With the rods out I set up the bedchair in the shade and stuck the kettle on for a well-earned brew before sitting back and soaking up the atmosphere of this old little water.

The hours flew by and before I knew it Pete arrived in my swim holding a take away menu in one hand and a fork in the other whilst making strange grunting noises!

I glanced through the menu before ringing up the order for delivery, the very pleasant Indian man on the end of the phone told me that he would meet me in the lay by next to the lake in half an hour which gave me plenty of time to rig the rods up ready for the night, fresh rigs were tied and hook baits attached before I propped the rods up against the oval and went to meet my new Indian friend.

A short while later I returned to my swim, Pete was sat on the floor clutching his fork and something that can only be described as a dog bowl, the bag was snatched from my grasp and half of it tipped into his trough before being devoured by what looked like someone who hadn’t eaten in 6 months!

After I had finished my curry I got a few pva bags tied up with micro pellet, snail and a good helping of GLM inside and flicked both rods down the edge, slackened the line right off and was confident I would be answering the call of the Neville at some point in the next few hours.

It was lovely to be sat by the water and the temperature dropped to more bearable levels, we enjoyed a couple of beers and chatted about what had happened in the last few weeks and hoped for better times to come – during the whole evening we were treated to an arial display by the fish and both commented that it wasn’t a matter of if but when!

It was just before midnight when Pete went back to his swim and flicked his rods out for the night, I fired up the coleman for a last brew before bed – as I sat listening to the fish roll I couldn’t help but notice the boshing was getting more intense, due to the sound any chance of sleep was hard to come by and over the next couple of hours the sound changed from of a boshing to thrashing.

It was 2am when I come to conclusion that the fish were starting to spawn again, so went to get off the bedchair and get the rods in – just as I started to walk down the steep slope my left hand rod let out a one toner.

As I got down to the rod I could just about make out in the moonlight a group of fish chasing each other up the margin which had obviously picked up my line – my suspicions were confirmed and both rods were brought in and propped up against the oval.

They were making such a racket that I all but gave up on sleep so put the kettle on and had a smoke, it was just after 3am when Pete walked into the swim laughing “you’re awake then!?” he said, “how did you guess?” was my reply!

I made Pete a brew then we sat and discussed what to do in the morning, both deciding that we would pack up and go and look at another lake to see if we could nick one of the surface before it got too hot, but if truth be told if I hadn’t had a beer I would probably have packed up in the middle of the night and although I was probably fine to drive I just wouldn’t risk it and never will.

Pete left my swim at about 03:30am to try and get some kip, I did the same and eventually drifted off to the sound of the leviathan’s having sexy time!

It felt like I had only been asleep 5 minutes when I awoke at 6am, I literally had to peel my eyes open before I could stick the kettle on and roll a smoke, after a quick brew with the rods already propped against the oval it only took me 5 minutes to get packed away and the kit loaded on the barrow.

I could hear Pete doing the same next door and by 7am the van was loaded, because I was spooled up with fluorocarbon and didn’t bring a floater outfit we just took Pete’s Floater rod, net, mat and the few essentials that we needed including plenty of water!

We found the fish instantly on one of the other waters and it didn’t take long to get them going – within 20 minutes Pete had a nice little mirror on the bank, we took a couple of photos as quick as we could as the sun was already beating down its’ ray with some force, the fish was soon returned and we attempted to get them going again- but this time it was me holding the carbon!

The fish seemed to be on edge since Pete’s fish and didn’t in all honesty show much interest, we gave it half an hour before setting off to one of the other lakes to find some that may be up for it.

Half an hour later we had found a group of fish that looked well up for it, Pete said “shall I get feeding then?” I replied “no need mate, they are up for it!” and without a second thought cast out my single mixer hook bait – only 10 seconds later the hook bait was taken and the surface erupted, the fish which was probably only a small double put up a great account of itself with some powerful runs and just when I thought I had it under control and ready for netting the hook pulled – the air was blue and a few choice words were chosen!

A few of the fish drifted off and once again looked slightly on edge, we fed them for a good 40 minutes flicking only a few chum mixers out at a time, I waited as long as I could before introducing a bait which when I did was taken with confidence and a battle began once again, with several rather impressive runs I felt confident that I was attached to a better fish and within a few minutes we were greeted by the sight of small but absolutely stunning common, it might not have been a chunk by any stretch of the imagination but words cannot explain how much that fish meant to me – after a few quick pictures I cradled her in the edge as she gathered her strength and just has she waddled off thanked her for what she had done for me.

With a fish each on the bank, we gathered our bits together and headed back to the car park and headed for home, both feeling rather chuffed - both for different reasons.

As I sit writing this now, I feel like the cloud has lifted and can’t wait to get back out and chase a few chunks once again – a quick phone call to the bailiff on “Raptor” has lifted my spirits, it’s quietened right off with most of the members struggling for a take they have pulled off for easier waters which means I better sign off for now and get the van loaded ready for tomorrow.

Until next time,

Smithy

Well I was hoping to be sitting down to write this piece whilst floating on cloud 9 but in truth nothing could be further from the truth.

Since my last piece I managed a couple of quick overnighters on “Raptor” but left each time with nothing to show for my efforts, it was as if having a weekend away from the water after having a take on each consecutive session previously had given me a mental block of some description.

After a text out of the blue from my old friend “Dumpy” we arranged to have a long overdue social on Sandmartin Lake on the Bluebell Lakes Complex, it had been over two years since we had last had a brew together so I was looking forward to a good catch up and talking about old times and sessions in years gone by.

As planned we met at the lodge the following Saturday, my brother in law “Martin” also joined us for the night so after a quick natter in the car park we purchased our tickets and made our way around the lake with buckets firmly in our hands.

The lake was very quiet with only one other angler on the water so we had plenty of water to choose from, I quite fancied the swims opposite the road bank on the end of the wind but “Dumpy” suggested the road bank – after a bit of banter I managed to persuade him that the end of the wind was the better option and with that we went and fetched the vans and parked them up in the car park at the end of the bank.

It didn’t take long to get the barrows loaded up to get the kit to the swims and before we knew it we were all standing in my swim having a giggle and a smoke before we got our serious heads on and got the rods rigged up.

I kept things nice and simple, the left hand rod was fished helicopter style with a 9 inch hydrolink hook length and one of my homemade Live System Pellet shaped hook baits on the hair – this was cast out 15 yards just past the tree line and was followed up with 30 ten millers catapulted over the top.

The right hand rod was fished with my normal lead clip arrangement and a short braided hook link, the hook bait was a 10mm Live System snowman presentation with a small PVA bag of 10 miller nicked onto the hook – this was then cast 40 yards out and landed (Eventually) with a firm donk.

Being only on a social overnighter I didn’t bother leading around with limited time, the lake was very quiet and the last thing I wanted to do was push the fish towards the opposite bank instead opting to just feel for a drop but it later transpired that I was fishing in 16 feet of water!

With the rods out we spent most of the afternoon sat in my swim chain drinking coffee, with laughter echoing out from under the canopy I think we succeeded in pushing any fish that were in the vicinity to the other side of the lake – well that’s what I keep telling myself but in hindsight I reckon “Dumpy” had his location spot on although I would never admit it!

By early evening my sides were aching so much from all the laughing, most of it admittedly was at my expense but still it was great to see old friends again, however I soon had the last word after watching “Dumpy” trying to light the BBQ for two hours, at first it was funny but I could see it was getting to him so after having a bit of input of chucking some petrol on it I left him to it and went and made some pesto pasta determined not to go to bed hungry!

After I had finally filled my stomach “Martin” walked into my swim just as the light faded with a pack of caramel digestives in his hand, being the big brother of his future wife he certainly knows how to win me over!

We sat up well into dark watching the water, my earlier thoughts of “Dumpy” being right with his location was confirmed as we saw several good fish come clear out of the water in the moonlight towards the far margin – if I wasn’t spooled up with fluorocarbon I may have stood a chance of getting near them but as I was it just wasn’t worth even attempting it, I was on a social and exhausted from giggling all day so a move at midnight just wasn’t going to happen either!

Eventually at some time during the early hours “Martin” vacated my swim so I succumbed to my tiredness and climbed in the bag, my head had barely touched the pillow before I fell into a deep sleep unfortunately sleeping uninterrupted until the first rays of light broke over the horizon.

I rubbed the sleep glue from my eyes and gazed down at the hangers which were exactly where I had left them, it was quite a chilly morning with a nip in the air so I stayed in the bag and stretched out to the kettle, fired up the coleman and eagerly awaited the first brew of the day – the kettle seemed to take an age to boil but eventually I soon had a steaming hot mug of the good stuff firmly in my grasp to watch the morning unfold with.

My 6am it felt warm enough for me to climb out of the bag, so I fired up the coleman for the umpteenth time and went to see if “Martin” was awake and fancied a brew, he was already awake sat on the edge of the bedchair and greeted me with a very chirpy “MORNING” – I was fully expecting him to follow that up with “Couldn’t do some photos could you? I’ve got a lump in the edge!” but unfortunately other than a few liners during the night he had nothing to report.

After sharing a couple of brews I went and sat down by my rods for the last hour willing one of them to rattle off but unfortunately it wasn’t meant to be and I was soon packing all the gear down, saying my good byes and barrowing back to the van with my tail still firmly between my legs.

With the social done and dusted I was keen to get back down “Raptor” to redeem myself, I knew that it was going to busy the following weekend so decided another Friday afternoon off work so I could get down there lunch time to guarantee me getting a swim, I was getting slightly disheartened having to do this as it just doesn’t seem like fishing to me and it was beginning to ruin the nice thoughts that I had of the place as I had fully expected it to quieten down by now.

I was down there by 1 o’clock on Friday and it was a good job I had made the effort as there was already 5 people on the little 6 acre lake, I grabbed a bucket out of the van and made my way up to the quietest end of the little lake and dropped my bucket in one of the remaining free swims, as I had walked up I recognised a friends oval so with a swim secured I made my way back up the bank for a chat and to see what had been occurring in my absence.

I was greeted with news that my mate had landed one of the A Team that morning and it was looking good for another, I spent the next hour sat on the grass in his swim gazing at pictures of some of the fish he had landed during my absence – he had really done well and I was chuffed to bits for him.

I soon noticed one of the guys up the bank was packing up, I really fancied the area and had seen a fish show there whilst I was chatting so I bid my mate farewell and made my way back to the van to grab the rest of my kit.

I was soon barrowing through the long grass at speed, the angler that was packing up was now stood in my mates swim so I barrowed straight past to the top of the lake and parked up the barrow to claim the spot, then went and fetched by bucket from the swim that I had previously secured.

With everything now in the swim I set up a rod as quick as could with a 3 ft zig and flicked it out to the island to the right of the swim where I had seen the fish show earlier whilst chatting to my friend, before I could even think about getting the other rod sorted I had to have a drink it was roasting, a litre of cranberry juice went down all to easily and didn’t even touch the sides!

Whilst lying in the sun I contemplated what to do with my other rod, in the end I decided to leave it on the quiver for a few hours, keep the swim quiet with just one rod out and see what occurred.

By 5pm several more people had turned up and the lake was fully stitched up, if I was turning up now I would have turned around and gone home – it was at this point that I decided I couldn’t keep taking time off work just to get a swim, I would leave the venue alone for a few months, head back to “Snag” and try to see to unfinished business and hope that the little venue would quieten down, failing that I knew it was very quiet in winter and carried a good winter form too.

With everybody else now casting out and baiting up I thought I would take the opportunity to get the rods sorted for the night, the zig rod was replaced with a 10mm Live System snowman presentation and PVA bag of 10 millers nicked on the hook then flicked back out to the island.

The left hand rod with fished with 2 glugged 10mm Live System bottom baits on the hair and again a small PVA bag nicked onto the hook before being flicked out to a spot where I had enjoyed some success on a previous session which was now unfortunately some time ago – I just hoped that this being my last session for some time it would see me climb the wall that I seemed to have come up against.

Finally the heat from the sun had begun to subside and the temperature was much more comfortable and with the rods out there was nothing more to do than to sit back and enjoy a perfect summers evening.

The evening flew past in the blink of an eye, it was dark before I got round to cooking up some dinner and after that was demolished I went and sat by the rods to see if I could hear anything rolling in the darkness, however the only thing I could hear was the flock of geese that seem to be doubling in numbers everything time I come down to the intimate water.

It was midnight when I eventually climbed into the bag and I drifted off very quickly, the next thing I heard was a few bleeps from the Neville – I sat up and smacked my head on the centre of my oval which didn’t seem to bother me at the time as my adrenaline was pumping but when I realised I was awoken by a liner it began to hurt a little more, but still I was confident so drifted off back to sleep fully expecting to be awoken by the Neville screaming for my attention.

Unfortunately it was the geese that woke me up just before 6am and as I fired up the coleman for my early morning brew I couldn’t help but feel deflated, time was running out and I would soon be saying goodbye to the lake for the next few months at least.

It was about 07:30 when my Neville let out a few bleeps then tightened up, I was on it in a flash – my heart was pounding to the point I thought it was going to burst out my chest, however the feeling lasted only a few seconds when the tell-tale tap tap on the rod tip told me that a bream was the culprit, I unhooked the little critter that was about 8lb or so and returned it safely before sitting on the bedchair with my head in my hands.

After several cups of the good stuff I decided to call it a day, my slow pack up didn’t take long and I was soon barrowing through the long grass towards the van, I stopped off to say good bye to a few friends and wished them well before promising I would be back soon and I certainly wasn’t going to be a stranger then sadly and rather unwillingly left for home upset and disappointed that ”Raptor” wasn’t the place of peace and solitude that I had hoped it would be, but in hindsight with the stock that it has I really couldn’t expect it to be – you can only keep things quiet for so long no matter how hard you try to keep things quiet, word always gets out.

Until next time,

Smithy