I stepped out onto the hotel patio at dusk, my favourite time of the day, when Bats flit in the purple sky and the Owls, woken from their daytime slumber become active, noisy, the socialites of the night.
Then daytime arrives and although all I can hear are Finches and Sparrows the Owls and Bats are still out there somewhere, but, no matter how many times I walk those woods, no matter how much I strain my neck looking up amongst the deepest darkest branches I have yet to see them. The transformation between night time and daytime is complete, like two different worlds.
It's the same whilst fishing; anglers get to experience this almost Jeckle and Hyde land where they are visited regularly by day yet haunted at night by the unseen. After nights their ears are trained to pick out each one, scurrying, rustling and hunting. There are also the sounds of the pool, great fish leaping and crashing, usually at the other end of the pool to where I am fishing, but sometimes close by, and it is at this time that I become alert, optimistic, ready to be acquainted with some creature from another world. For it is this other underwater world we become addicted to, yearning to unlock it's secrets, longing to make contact with its residents, deep, dark and mysterious, a puzzle we try so hard to solve.
Sat in the grounds of the country lodge the sun shone upon my neck as I contemplate, pen in hand, of where I really want to be. The challenge of a new season and a new water beckons. I closed my eyes, felt the warmth on my neck and picture myself sitting by that pool, secluded, quiet, waiting in anticipation of connecting with my first fish from that most intimate of pools. The stories from long ago are fresh in my mind having read the tales of adventures past. My mind's thoughts move onto such things as pitch shall I choose, will I find fish among snaggy bays and under overhanging trees, can I implement my favourite method and catch them from the surface. These things I considered everyday leading up to my maiden voyage to a place previously explored yet so new to me. Will I be as successful as the legends that have passed before me and emerged victorious, conquerors of a place once thought impossible, true masters of the gentle art of angling. Sadly some of the monsters of the deep have retired, gone to swim happily in another place but the survivors, growing in both size and cunning are the legends of the future, and hopefully the prizes of the next chapter in my quest.
As I sit here and write of a place I have yet to see through my own eyes the news comes through of a friends triumph. So they are real, they are catchable! Confidence and enthusiasm heightens and I build a picture of a paradise yet to be discovered, where every fishless hour will be like catching a twenty on some other, less beautiful pool such is the passion I already feel.
On the way home from Nottingham, whilst watching Buzzards and Red Kites the phone rang, I looked at the screen and saw it was my Mum, I asked her to call if a letter came through the door with CEMEX stamped on it. She confirmed that it was indeed my ticket and I quite positively gleamed. All the way home my mind was on one thing alone, Yateley!! What swim, what bait I should take, all these thoughts were making me dizzy. When I got home I gathered the kit from the shed, loaded the car and left for the motorway via the shop for supplies. A quick stop at Yateley angling centre for a few bits and on to the lake.
I pulled into the car park to find quite a few cars already there. I crossed the little bridge across the river and there it was, The Match Lake!! The first part I came to was a bay with a fair few anglers camped around it. A bit further on and I came to the out of bounds area they call the jungle, and I could see why. The swim to its right, The Birches, was one I'd like to have got into but it was occupied, I suppose that's the problem with arriving on Saturday afternoon. I did a quick circuit of the lake and the area I liked the look of was opposite a long island, an area called the Canopy Swims.
I barrowed the gear round to the swim and got the marker rod out but after getting hooked up on countless underwater obstacles I decided on a swim a few along called First canopy. In front of me was a large sunken tree in the water off the island with clear spots either side, two Sausage Oil baits were cast into these spots and the other rod down along the right hand margin.
I set the house up and lay on the bed taking in the atmosphere of this wonderful place wondering what fate has in store for me.
There were a few Geese and Ducks in front of me but they left me well alone. I brought with me the water rules which came with my ticket and I had just started to read them when my left hand rod screamed off. I ran out in my socks and struck into what felt like a Turbocharged snag!! After ripping a good fifty yards of line off I started to gain some back ever so gradually. The fight was immense and after 15 or 20 minutes I saw a Catfish tail slap the surface. Just as I thought it was beat and I reached for the net it found a sudden burst of energy and went on another 30 yard sprint. Eventually after quite some tugging and pulling with tired arms I netted the beast. It was very well behaved on the mat and posed beautifully for the self takes. What a fight and at 33lb 8oz it was my first Yateley fish and a new PB Catfish!!!
I got the rod back on the spot and after pulting out a few freebies I sat back to watch the sun set, I sat there and with a big smile on my face I said to myself "I think I'm going to like it here!!"
At 8:15pm the sun had almost set, the temperature started to drop and the first Bats made an appearance. I could hear Ducks, Geese and a distant Peacock. Dusk was beautiful and I could think of no place I'd rather be. The evening brought the odd liner and I drifted off to sleep, quite contented at around midnight.
At 2:15am I woke to the sound of my alarm, the left hand rod was once again away; I sprang up from my bed and struck into another hugely powerful fish. Obviously another catfish but this one tore off even more line and its charges even faster. After around half an hour of holding on for dear life I gradually gained whatever line it let me until I had it quite close in and then slipped the net under what looked like another PB. This one weighed 47lb 12oz and although well mannered on the matt, it did make the self takes somewhat difficult, as you can see from my facial expressions!!
So, 2 fish for 80lbs, not a bad start, although I was longing for a Carp. I didn't think my arms could cope with another Moggi, not tonight anyway!! I got the rod back out as best I could in the dark and hit the sack.
I woke up at around 7am on Sunday, the bird life was noisy and planes queued up overhead ready for their decent into Heathrow. Apart from a few liners the rods remained quiet. The sky was grey and I was in need of an extra layer. By 9am the sky had cleared and there were bright sunny spells appearing, it looked like it would be a lovely spring day. The cold breeze coming from the east came and went, gaining pace then subsiding, then only to gain pace again. All through the afternoon the rods only sounded when a twig or some weed drifted into my lines
At 5:30pm, whilst listening to the FA Cup Semi Final on the radio I had a slow lift on the bobbin of my left hand rod, I ran out and hovered but it just slowly fell back to its original position. Just as I sat back down I heard my alarm tear off so I turned round only to find that it was in fact my middle rod this time. I struck and could feel that it wasn't a Cat this time, I steered the fish towards me but it kited to the left and into the bay. I applied pressure and persuaded the fish to head back out into open water in front of me, then I saw its dorsal fin break surface and a dark back, a Carp at last!!! I netted my prize and admired a definite 20lb Mirror. On the scales she went 23lb 5oz, Result! I took a few self take, released her and got the rods back into position.
An hour late, football over and it was sadly time to get packed away. It was time to call an end to this wonderful session. I bid farewell to the marvellous lake and prayed that she be as kind to me on my return visit
Friday 16th April, my second visit to The Match Lake and this trip was to be a longer one than last weekend, with Monday and Tuesday booked off work I'd planned to fish 4 nights. I finished work at 12:30 pm and after stopping for supplies I got to the lake at around 2:00. When I pulled into the car park I saw 6 cars, not a great sight as there were certain swims I wanted to get into. As I crossed the little bridge I saw that Common Corner and Lazymans were both occupied. I walked on past the Jungle and to my surprise found The Birches empty, Result!!
I plonked my rucksack in the swim and trotted back to get the rest of the kit from the car. Once in the swim it was obvious where the first rod was going, around 15 yards along the left hand margin was the entrance to the jungle. About 5 meters across and roped of this was the only was in and out for the carp. I dropped the first rod just off this rope with the aid of a little sideways cast. I clipped up and marked the line to make things easier in the dark. I then got the marker rods out and after a few casts found a nice hard gravely spot about 30 yards out between some weed beds and another spot round to the right a bit at around 20 yards which was also gravely. The rods were cast to their sots and a few free offerings were introduced. Time to build the house, get settled and have a nice long awaited cuppa and a Bacon sandwich. The sun was shining intermittently, often hiding behind small clouds and the wind was blowing down the lake straight at me.
9 pm and the lake was dead still, the odd Duck and Goose were still active but the wind had dropped and all that could be heard was the nearby road. At 9:30 pm I received a slow take on my middle rod but nothing came of it. It started to get dark, all I could see were the silhouettes of the trees on the far bank were all I could see, a Goldcrest, Britain's smallest bird visited me that evening along with a pair of Jays. Optimism for the night ahead was high.
Saturday morning and what a morning! The rods were still but this was the moment The Match Lake showed me its magic for the first time, not fish but the atmosphere. I woke a little after 6 am very cold and when I first looked out I was greeted by a thick, heavy and extremely cold fog.
Then I saw it......a more wonderful sight you will not find, a spell had been cast across this fabulous place. It was a view to behold, the perfect morning. I re-baited the rods, got the kettle on and sat back in total admiration for the lake that had completely stolen my heart. As the Sausages sizzled I watched ghostly columns spiralling higher and higher, to the left a large fish leapt clear of the water and landed with a loud crash shattering the tranquillity, and as the ripples subsided all was once again back to its former glory.
I was expecting the sun to rise, burn away the mist and for everything to become much clearer and the morning progressed, but as it was by 8 am it was just the same as it was when I woke. The spirits of the lake were very busy. For almost half an hour I watched a Nuthatch scale the Birches in search of its breakfast, by 9 am the fog had started to lift, blue sky's appeared and all at once I could see the surface of the lake surrounded on all sides by green.
At midday, with the rods still quiet and the sun shining I decided to go for a wander, explore a few marginal spots and have a natter with the other lads. I wound in and put the marker float back out just to re-calibrate the spots. With a little more effort I now had all 3 rods fishing on or just off the gravel bar leading into the jungle in the hope to trip them up on their way in and out. I walked around the lake looking into likely looking areas but saw nothing. I got to the Party swims and where I met Spike and Adam, proper good guys with more than a few stories to tell. After a brief chat I left them and peered over a bramble and into the Copse Lake, there was a big dark mirror happily sunning himself in the afternoon sun. I walked on and came across a group of 5 fish, again in the Copse basking over a shallow gravely ledge. I observed for a while and made my way back round the Match Lake and back towards my swim; I got to the jungle and peered in. There they were, I counted a dozen or more Carp lazily drifting around. This made my heart race, their in there and I have their patrol route covered in case they decide to come out.
With new optimism I returned to my swim, re-baited the rods and cast them onto their respective spots. Lunch was a Bacon Burger with a cup of tea and some footie on the radio. The temperature was high and the lake was as flat as a mill pond. It was 6 pm, I had enjoyed the first 24 hours of my session, however, I was wondering if this was going to be a productive trip, was my first session a fluke? I sat on a tree stump watching the water when at 6:15 my indicator on the left hand rod flew up, I bent into a good fish which tried to gain sanctuary back in the jungle. With a fair amount of side strain I got the fish out into open water and slipped the net under a mint condition mirror. She weighed 23lb 9oz, a Carp at last! I returned her, cast back on the spot and introduced a few more baits. Time to sit back, relax and watch the evening draw in.
It was another cold and quiet night, no fish crashed and no liners came to the rods. I woke to the sound of my alarm at 5:15 am on Sunday morning; I slipped on my crocs and found my right hand rod was away. Fish on!! After sinking the other two rod tips I managed to play and safely net a fine looking Leather Carp of 23lb 12oz. A fairly old looking fish with a few scars. It caused me a fair bit of hassle during the self takes.
She was returned, the 3 rods repositioned and a celebratory cuppa was in order. Sunday morning was amazing, clear sky so I awaited the Yateley sunrise. Mist danced upon the surface and the world started to materialise out of the dark.
After a breakfast of Sausages and Tea, I re-hydrated my baits and then kept myself occupied by watching a Perch and Swan Mussel in the margin, observing Woodpeckers and keeping a close eye on the lake surface for signs of fish. By 9:30 am the sun was out and it looked to be another glorious spring day. Sunday brought an uneventful morning, I had gathered by now that the best times for a bite were Tea time through until early morning. So, the afternoon was about relaxing in the sun, footie on the radio and the traps set to intercept any fish moving through.
As the evening drew ever closer and the sounds I'd grown familiar with had started, the sun was gradually blanketed by the Beeches and Elms behind me and the air felt a little cooler, out with the fleece and on with the kettle. I sat and drank that Tea close to the rods, just in case. Through the night the wind increased and was pushing down into my position, it was a chilly wind and to be honest I wasn't sure what effect this would have on the fishing. As it turned out I received a few liners throughout the night but by the morning the rods were as I'd left them.
I woke up on Monday to a different kind of day, the cold breeze was still there, albeit a little less strong, and the sky was overcast with the odd brief sunny period. At 8:30 am I saw a good fish roll in the jungle entrance, I was thinking that with the clod wind blowing in there they might be reluctant to hold up. Maybe the deeper spots would produce during the day today so fresh baits were cast onto the usual spots and the first brew of the day was made.
At around 1:00 pm I decided to rest the swim for a while, I wound in, baited the spots and popped round Stewi's swim for lunch. At 2:30 I returned to my swim and set the traps ready for my last night of this session. It was a warm afternoon, the light breeze had swung round to the left a bit and I sat by the rods watching another episode of "Coot Wars". At 7 pm the sky darkened and it looked like it we could get a shower. 8 pm and no rain but the sky was still ominously dark. I sat in the bivvy thinking about a cup of tea when my right hand rod burst into action, I ran out and struck into nothing. Just then a Coot surfaced looking very guilty!! I re-cast the rod and sat back, 5 minutes later the same rod was off, once again I struck into nothing and once again the same Coot surfaced. A pouchfull of Mixers saw him on his way and he left me alone after that. The rod was repositioned and I got back to the fishing. Then the rain started, only a shower but with it came enough cloud cover to ensure a much milder night.
Monday evening was the most calm and still of the session, apart from the odd bird singing and the distant church bells all was quiet. I was laid out on the bed happily watching the rods when something caught my eye, on closer inspection it was a Carp, not 2 feet from the bank cruising under my rods with its dorsal and tail out of the water, cheeky git!! I was stunned, what on earth do you do in that situation? I tossed a few Mixers up the margin a bit just in case he came back and got hungry.
At 11 pm I felt the urge to do something, I stood in my swim catapulting pieces of bread roll around and once the ripples subsided I returned to the bivvy, made a bacon roll and a cuppa and sat back to listen out for any slurps, the night was eerily silent and the fish would easily give themselves away. The odd scurrying in the dry leaves on the ground and my ticking watch were all that could be heard, even the Owls slept. At midnight the church bells rang 12 times. I started to doze off. At 1230 am I received a fast take on the middle rod. Upon striking I could tell it was one of the Catfish by the amount of line being ripped from the spool. After a 15 minute tug of war I netted the Cat somewhere around 20 -25lbs, unhooked it and watched it swim away. The first couple I had last weekend were a novelty and good fun, but it was down to the serious business of searching the Carp out. Any future Cats, unless huge will be unhooked in the water.
The rod was re-cast and I climbed back into the sack. 2:30 am and I was up to another run, this time my right hand rod. The fight felt more like Carp this time, I played it gently but soon caught sight of another Cat in the headlight beam of similar size to the last one. Another swift un-hooking in the margin and the rods was cast back out. Now the Owls were awake. I had a few more liners throughout the night but no more fish were forthcoming.
I woke at 6:15 am to the sound of a Woodpecker very close by, I was tired and it sounded as if he was perched on my shoulder banging my head. I crept out quietly to try to get a quick picture of him but he flew off as I stepped on a twig. The sun was shining and the Match Lake looked splendid.
I set about making breakfast and began to start packing a few things away. The best time for a bite was now gone and I had things to do at home. This session showed me two things, the first being how this place can be so rewarding with its effortless beauty and stunning residents. The second being how moody it can be making you wait long periods where you can see but not catch them. It is safe to say that I am well and truly hooked on Yateley's magic, needless to say I'll be back for round 3 on Friday, just two nights but I will be exploring a different swim trying to build a picture of the lake and work out the various spots. With the barrow loaded I thanked the spirits of the lake for a fascinating 4 days and for being so hospitable.
Friday 23rd of April was my third visit to the Match Lake, a 2 night session and this time I fancied the larger end of the lake. During my other visits I had noticed a fair few fish cruising down that end, doubling up with the surface fishing possibilities during the lean period in the middle of the day. The swim I chose was the Gate swim in the far corner of the lake, a small secluded swim commanding a nice section of snaggy margin to its left. I barrowed my gear to the swim and ten went for a wander round to Gravelies and NF. In front of these swims were a few fish swimming just under the surface, their big dark shapes giving them away. I trotted back to my swim, set up a floater rod and returned for a bash at the cruising fish. I cast a few times but nothing was interested and the wind was all wrong blowing a big bow in the line making contact difficult.
I returned to my swim and set up the marker rod. The water on front of the swim was a mixture of thick weed and not so thick weed with very few clear spots and finding any area to drop a bait into was very difficult. I checked out the right hand margin and just off the branches of a nearby tree I found a clean patch some 5 feet deep, that's one rod sorted. Then I had a flick over to the left hand margin, I found a bar running parallel with the bank, this bar was around 3 feet wide and then dropped into silkweed. I found 2 trees to cast at, clipped up, marked the line and dropped 2 Tiger Nut criticals on the spots and fired a dozen freebies over each rod. Rods out, house up and it was 5pm so time for some dinner and a cuppa.
The lake was looking beautiful, it seemed that each time I visit the greenery gets more and more lush, the summer colours of the lake really starting to show.
At 7:30pm I received a liner on the middle rod, followed by a steady lift on the bobbin, it dropped back and then rose again, I hit it but didn't connect with anything. A liner, but at least they were in the area. At 8 O'clock I sat by the rods and watched the sun disappear behind the trees, the sky once again had planes circling and as a Robin sang it was peaceful. The sky was a mix of burnt orange, grey and a million shades of blue.
Apart from the odd single beep nothing disturbed my sleep; I woke at 5:40am to find a cold misty morning. The sun rose behind me so the sunrise shots were over the Copse Lake.
At around 7:00am I wound in and went to wake Stewi, fired up his kettle and proceeded to make tea. As we sat chatting he caught a nice dark Common. It was then I thought of moving round to his swim as he was pacing away at 10am. In the end I decided to stay put, have a go at tying a few chod rigs and sit it out in the margin swim. That morning I had a nice long chat with Spike about weed fishing and with Stewi about chods, something I wasn't familiar with but by chatting to these guys it was something that definitely works well on here. With 70 Carp for last season I was asking Spike question after question to build up a picture of exactly how it's done.
11:30am I was back in my swim, cooking sausages and playing with rigs. I cast one rod out to the margin and 2 chods into the weed in front at around 30 yards. At 4pm I sat by the rods and watched the water, it was slightly overcast with a cool breeze but still T Shirt weather. As the Geese fought for the territory of the islands I wondered if my new found method would serve me well, approaching bite time I was filled with a new confidence, although knocked up from whatever I could find I my tackle bag, I was happy that I was fishing effectively. The family of Coots was still diving on my margin spot so the plan was to top up the area with bait just on dusk.
8pm and not much was happening. I watched a Mouse searching around under my rods oblivious to the fact I was watching. The sun had set and dusk was looming. A few fish had crashed during the day between the islands way off to my right. I stayed optimistic that the chods would pay off, if not this weekend then maybe next. It's a big earning curve, learning to cope with this new challenge, I had previously found productive spots during earlier sessions but I needed to explore the lake, find fish holding areas around the lake. Once I'd built up a mental picture of what's where I could then decide upon favourite spots. I was exploring new methods, fishing over silt, weed or gravel, feature finding in open water, gaining information all the time and putting together the pieces of this puzzle. The successful anglers on this lake know the place like the back of their hands, knowing roughly where the fish will be and when, being able to drop into a swim and have success. That's where I hope to be, it may take a season or two but eventually the secrets will be revealed. Until then I shall have to work at it and work hard, put in time and effort and remain steadfast in my pursuit.
News came through of an original being caught that afternoon from the swim I did my first night in, The Holiday fish at 32lb plus. My time will come!
I must have been tired that night as I was asleep before 10pm. I received a single beep on my margin rod a little after midnight and whilst watching the receiver I noticed a few raindrops landing on the bivvy. I was just dozing back off when the margin rod let out a few more beeps before ripping off. I bent into the fish and slowly pumped it back. Mostly it just felt heavy but under the rod tip the fun really started. She dived left and right wiping out the other 2 rods but was soon under control and on the unhooking matt. A lovely dark Common of 20lb 6oz, I bimbled along to Spike and asked if he wouldn't mind taking a few snaps for me.
After the pics were done we sat and had a cuppa, Spike told me all about his capture of the famous Bazil from the North Lake among other epic adventures. Spike returned to his swim and I got the rods back out, very happy indeed and climbed back into the bag.
I stirred around 6am, dry at first but then a few raindrops started falling. Gradually it got heavier and I checked under the bedchair, the reason behind this being an incident I had in France a couple of years back when I was tucked up nice and warm in the bivvy and the heavens opened, we're talking Monsoon!! One minute I'm nice and dry thinking how glad I was to be inside, the next I have a raging torrent running under the bedchair, No groundsheet and a sloping swim!! Once again here I was with heavy rain, No groundsheet and a sloping swim!! Luckily the ground must have been somewhat spongier as all under me remained dry.
I sat it out until around 9:30am and during a break in the weather I packed away and ran for it. An enjoyable couple of nights, lots of new things learnt and a nice fish to boot.
Till the next time..
Stu Harris