17/8/18 – 18/8/18 Hintlesham Specimen Lake
Friday night 6pm and I’m still at work, blissfully unaware that a surprise overnighter is on the cards, but a text to my wife suggesting a cheeky trip to the cinema is rebuffed with an ‘out of the blue’ offer that rather than fish tomorrow, i get my shit together and go tonight instead.
I’m on my way home!
I break out the ‘Overnighter check list’ and just throw it all in the van.
A quick call to my nemesis Suffolk Waterpark, revealed that the gates were closing any minute, ruling out another guaranteed blank. Never mind. Hintlesham was my next nearest option, and has always looked after me in the past. I made the lake by 7.30pm. Still plenty of daylight left.
I’ve always fished the far side with access to the gravel bar but the far side was pretty busy and as the lake seemed alive all over, and with time tight, i opted for a near side swim and something different.
For the night i had one rod close to the overhanging bushes directly opposite, where the lake narrows, and the other one near the pads to the right where the fish were bubbling.
For once, the night passed without a single bleep, so I actually managed to get some sleep. I was up at 5am next morning moving the rods, both closer to the pads with a scattering of boilies around each. If I’m honest, i wasn’t really happy with their positioning, but as usual, i just sat it out for a couple of hours before deciding to change again. This time though, both rods landed smack bang in between each set of pads, and i felt instantly positive. You know that feeling when the rig lands exactly where you wanted it to, and you just say to yourself “that’s a bite right there”.
The danger then became the risk of losing a fish to the pads. Normally I’d tighten the freespool right up so they had nowhere to go, but with the rod pod precariously perched on the staging and no means of locking it down, i decided to give the freespool some movement, rather than wave goodbye to the whole lot. This meant being ready to pounce at the first beep, and sure enough, within 5 minutes, i needed to pounce. After a heavy connection and a thumping battle to try and prevent the fish finding the pads, the hook pulled (i thought).
Upon closer inspection though, the hook had actually snapped!
I was right in the middle of attaching a new link in order to get the rod straight out again and before I’d finished the other rod was off.
As they say – Location, location, location.
A hard fighting common finally made its way into the net and i breathed a sigh of relief, happy that I’d avoided the dreaded blank.
The next couple of hours were quiet and i assumed that the two struggles had cleared each area.
I re-cast and rebaited around both rods again and yet again, within 5 minutes the left hand rod screamed off and i was again struggling to steer it through the pads. As it came towards me i could see it had clearly brought some of the pads with it, adding to the hefty resistance, but when the fish surfaced i could see it was big. My mind raced and then i immediately started to worry that i was about to lose a new pb, but somehow i managed to steer the fish and thread it through the trailing lily. For some reason I decided to net it myself despite offers of help, and then instantly regretted my choice when the fish refused my first net lunge and disappeared once again into the depths. Second chance came around though and i made it count. One look at it in the net and i knew I’d done it.
23lb exactly on the scales, but i hadn’t zeroed with the net so less 2lb 3oz and we have a new pb of 20lb 13oz (previous best an 18lb 12oz common, Jun 2015) so a long time coming, but well worth the wait.
As it says on the tin, it’s SO not about catching fish, but sometimes it so is.