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A 10lb tench with a little help from Fred J - 27/05/16

Was Fred was watching over me?

 

My interest in tench fishing was ignited when Fred Taylor wrote about 'the lift method' in the angling press.  I followed his advice catching more fish than I had ever done before including the infrequent tench to around 3lbs. I was chastised by my Headmaster for choosing Fred's book entitled “Tench” published in 1971 for a school prize instead of some boring reference book on school subjects. I was no model pupil, and I think Fred would have approved of me buying something I really wanted.

 

Over the years, I have moved around until I settled in Devon over 20 years ago. Sadly, most of the pools and lakes with lilies have now become carp puddles so there are few waters around holding decent tench.  I became a world expert at catching 4lbs 15ozs tench before catching three 5 lb’ers in a month but even then, the biggest was only 5lbs 2ozs.

 

Moving forward in time, I was chatting to my friend Mick Cutler about this and told him of my biggest and he managed to hold back the laughter. He said I should go up to Kent where several waters there hold tench to over 10lbs. I said this was probably just anglers' talk, but he swore it was true and duly invited me up to have a tenching session with him.

 

After comparing diaries, I pinned him down before he had chance to change his mind, so a  three day (two night) session was agreed for the end of May on a water of Mick’s choice.

 

I then blurted out that I had never fished in a bivvy, didn’t have a bed, never used boillies and didn’t use a bite alarm.   He asked when I was joining the 20th century let alone the 21st!!

 

Anyway, Mick said he could lend me a shrouded umbrella. The local angling journalist Wayne Thomas loaned me a folding bed that belonged to his son, so with the basics in place and with my wicker basket packed with food and my storm kettle, I was off.

 

I arrived on the Monday at around 4pm and got myself set up. A cane Avocet rod, Mitchell reel; my Fred J Taylor Trotter rod. The rods were both set up with simple running legers and three maggots on a size 12 hook and the bite indicator was a piece of silver paper.  I had a catapult for firing out the loose feed so, as this limited the range greatly, I fished in the margins.   

 

When the light fell and I drifted into sleep in my newly made camp bed.

As the next day dawned, I was wide awake and couldn't wait to fish so I recast and proceeded to catapult fresh maggots around my bait. I'm sure you can imagine what the anglers there thought. They liked the look of the cane rod and were very courteous but I don’t think they fancied my chances of catching a big tench.

 

The first (second and third) fish I caught were eels, and decent fish of around 2lbs or so. Not my favourite species but I was glad to see the water held nice specimens.  Mick persuaded me to switch to rubber maggots as this was the only way to stop the eels from devouring my bait.  I set them up on one rod and sweetcorn on the other.

 

Mick fished through the night and had a carp of just over 26lbs. By now he'd taken pity on my fishless state and when he had a second run kindly shouted me to take his rod, I was glad for the chance to land a tench of 5lbs 10 ozs.

 

That was the end of the action for the day, but I got so much pleasure from simply sitting by my rods, watching the birds and taking the occasional photograph.  Fellow anglers will know that there is more to fishing than catching.

 

Les had to take his net back when he left the water so Chris Brown, who

manufactures nets, lent me one of his so that I could keep fishing.  I was lucky to be with such a generous group of people and Les didn’t even cuss me when he realised his net was full of eel slime!

 

On my third and last day, my sixth sense told me that I had just one more change to catch my own tench and as if by magic at around 9.00 am, my silver paper ran to the ring and I struck into a fish which I quickly realised wasn’t another eel.  It ran to the left, then 15 seconds or so into the fight the line went slack and the fish had gone. “What would Fred have said?” asked Mick.  I replied that I was sure he would have had some choice words for the occasion.  I looked up to the gods and restrained my bad language, all I could do was laugh at my bad luck. 

 

My scheduled departure of 12 noon arrived all too soon.  Reluctantly, I started to pack away my tackle.  The makeshift bivvy, the chair, the cane rod, rod rests - all that was left to put away was my treasured Fred J Taylor Trotter and just as I bent down and laid my hand on the handle, the silver paper shot forward. Amazingly, I was in the perfect position to strike into a hard running fish which stripped the line off the spool. If the take had been just seconds later, I would have wound in the bait.  As my prize neared the bank it surfaced and I shouted: "Mick, I'm in."  Hurrying along from the next swim, he grabbed the net and as the excitement mounted, we saw that it was not just a tench but a big one!  Mick did the honours and landed the fish.  He unhooked it and left it in the net for a couple of minutes to recover whilst he set up the weighing tripod (another thing I hadn’t brought with me) and I searched for my camera which I’d packed away.  The weight of that monster - 10lbs 4ozs - I just couldn’t believe my good fortune.  I was gobsmacked. 

 

It does go to show that traditional tackle and techniques pioneered by some of the greatest anglers of all time still work along with some serious good luck. Fred J used to greet the day with 'nice one God.'  Next time I have a tipple, my toast will be to dear old Fred for the knowledge I gained from reading his works.  It had after all brought me the best prize of all, a double-figure tench from a secret lake, in the company of good friends.  Thank you Fred.