The Burghfield Common by Terry Hearn

Geplaatst SPECIALE VERHALEN at Oct 20, 2010

Terry recounts the events that led to him capturing one of his most prized catches, The Burghfield Common…

"One of the best parts about fishing Burghfield was the cycling. At 96 acres Burghfield is a large pit, but its split up nature makes it such a challenge. I doubt there are many that would walk its full perimeter more than once in a day. Especially in good, hot and sweaty, spotting conditions. But, by bike, it was possible to get round as often as I wanted no matter what the weather was doing. Nowhere was more than a ten minute cycle away, so when it came to finding carp the bike really was a huge help. The thing is, to up my chances of catching the ultimate prize I really needed to be finding more than just carp - I had to find the right carp! And with the particular fish I was targeting it had been every bit as difficult as I’d imagined.

Since starting on the lake in July of the year before I’d seen her twice. Once in August and then again in the same spot during early September - if it had been a little earlier and those sightings had been in May or June then the area may have had some sort of future, but by September everything’s beginning to go the other way. The nights were getting longer and the water temperature had begun to drop. To the carp, spawning was over and autumn feeding had begun, and when it came to food there were other more preferable areas elsewhere around the lake. For the common to venture back into the same area that I’d been lucky enough to have had my sightings, it ideally needed to be hot and balmy and before those conditions returned I had a long, long wait.

The autumn was spent fishing a completely different part of the lake. I won’t go into too much detail as it’s a long story that covers a big chunk of fishing. But, with regular baiting I enjoyed some brilliant fishing and managed to get amongst some of the pits bigger residents. Famous old fish like Three Up Five Down, The Double Belly and The Classic Carp, plus some of the larger younger strain fish, including corkers of 40lb 8oz and 45lb 4oz - all very special carp.

By mid November I was looking forward to doing a bit of fishing on the rivers for other species. I managed to catch one more Burghfield carp during a last gasp trip in late December, but for the rest of the winter I stayed away. Well, not completely as I did walk the lake on a couple of occasions during February, but as far as the fishing went I decided that my time was best spent elsewhere.

Eventually spring came, the bikes chain got a squirt of oil, and I was off doing my Burghfield rounds once again. I don’t know how many times I cycled round that lake, but between March and July it was an awful lot. Less rod hours equalled more looking hours, that’s all I kept telling myself. The thing is, by now it had become obvious that it wasn’t just the sun that I was waiting for, it needed to be quiet too. For three months the lake had been busy with spring ticket holders and I’m sure this extra pressure had a big influence on the carp, especially that big old common. They just seemed reluctant to venture into the bays with so many people fishing around the lake, and it wasn’t until June 16^th onwards that things started to go back to normal, more like it had been when I’d first started fishing the lake the previous July. Baited spots that had been barely touched all spring suddenly began to glow, and with every bike ride more and more opportunities arose. Things were happening, but Burghfield contains many carp and so much of it was a distraction. Many a time I was tempted, who wouldn’t when you’re feeding half a dozen mirrors at your feet, but as good as the fishing could be it was never long before I’d be on my toes again. As Nige kept reminding me, if I could find a group of fish in one place then maybe I could find the common in another.

Determination Pays Off
The morning of Tue June 30^th was definitely different. For starters it was forecast to be absolutely sweltering hot, but it was more than that, I arrived in a better frame of mind. Having spent the Monday up at Dynamite’s in Nottinghamshire, I’d had a longer break away from the lake than I normally would have taken. It’s alright being super keen and all that, but sometimes a bit of a break gives you time to think, and with all the driving I’d just done I’d had plenty of time for that.

Today I wasn’t just keen, I was absolutely determined to find the common. Things had really been looking up over the previous couple of weeks and I’d caught three carp from close to where I’d seen the common twice the previous year, the best - another lovely, but much smaller common of 30lbs exactly. All along I’d had it in my head that just one carp from this area would mean more than ten caught elsewhere - they were ‘special ones’, and so I was well happy that I had something going. All that was missing from the area was the common, so I’d made my mind up that I wouldn’t fish the spot again until I saw it in the area. The funny thing is, if I did see the common I was fully expecting it to be in a known sunning spot at the end of a bay probably 200 yards away from my intended swim. I’d ran it over and over in my head a hundred times and had made my mind up that no matter how ‘on show’ it looked, if I saw the common at the end of that bay I’d be setting up away from it, in the swim I’d already caught from and exactly where I’d seen it the previous year. I was sure the end of the long thin bay was for sunning not feeding, especially as from what I’d learnt it was only ever seen there on the hottest days of the year.

To stand a chance of catching it in this area I felt that I needed to be fishing somewhere it would be passing on its way in and out of the bay, when it was just that little bit more likely to have a feed, and so my swim in the next bay in the chain seemed ideal. As well as keeping a small amount of bait going onto this spot I’d also been giving a couple of spots further into the bay a dusting of pellet and broken boilies on my cycles round, and over the past couple of trips one of these had clearly been fed on. Every time I’d looked at it I could see it was changing in both size and shape, but with so much birdlife around the lake I’m sure that to begin with much of it was being caused by these. The Mandarin ducks were the main culprits, and on a couple of occasions I actually walked in on them as they were diving. Even so it was always a spot I kept an eye on.

Over my previous couple of visits I’d noticed one particular bit slightly to the right where the bottom had been cleaned right down to the palest of stones. It was cleaner than the rest and slightly cratered, and laying across the middle of it I could see a dead branch. I’m talking about a spot no more than 18 inches square, but the branch lying across it with cleaner gravel either side made me feel certain it had been used as a flanking spot.

This particular Tuesday morning the water wasn’t as murky as it had been and so the flanking spot looked even cleaner than when I’d last looked at it four days before. I imagined seeing the common down the end of the bay sunning itself, and then where I’d set up if I was to be so lucky, and this time round the flanking spot looked the number one spot, even with the three recent captures I’d had from my original choice of swim on the other bank. It was still early, and with no carp on show at the end of the bay, I carried on my bike ride eventually ending up in the café for around 8.30am. I remember texting Jamie and Nige a picture of my plate loaded with egg, sausage chips and beans, with the words “just energizing for a days searching”.

The Sighting
It was gone 11am before I next got round to the bay, and this time I immediately found one sunning itself right down the end. I was peering through some foliage and could only see its hump bobbing about amongst some surface scum, but by wheeling my bike round to the opposite side of the bay I’d be able to get a better look. Luckily I never made it that far, as just a bit further up the path I caught sight of another carp, this time basking in a hole in the weed. Carefully I laid my bike down before taking a couple of steps forward, and that’s when I saw it, close in to my left, no more than twenty feet from the bank in another hole in the weed. There could be no mistaking a common as wide as this one. I tucked my bike out of the way and watched it from a more elevated position for a few minutes, all the time praying that nobody walked up the path.

At one point it swam out from the weed and up the margin to my right, towards where I’d earlier seen a different carp sunning itself amongst the scum. It was a couple of minutes before I followed, but as I got level with the next gap in the trees, where I could see through to the water, I noticed a wake on the waters surface heading back up the margin towards where I’d just come from. Not a bow-wave, definitely more of a wake, as though a swan had just swum through, but looking left I caught sight of the back end of the common heading back towards the weed. It was high in the water, its scaley hump shining in the sun, and I watched until the last thing I could see was its big sweeping tail disappearing beyond the overhanging trees. I tip toed back along the track in time to see it settle up in a nice hole in the weed, and then thinking it might be a good idea to get away from the area before anyone else walked up the path, I dragged myself away. With this being my first sighting of the fish in ten months it would have been nice to have spent a bit more time watching it, but that would be taking a risk. The common was fairly obvious, but me standing there watching was more obvious still.

Back at the lodge I had everything at the ready. The car was loaded and I even had a packed lunch ready to go in the fridge. Far from rushing back, that last bike ride was a casual one. More because I wanted to take time to think. I was still in two minds where to set up, the swim I’d already caught from, or the spot with the freshly cleaned off flanking spot on the opposite bank. Both swims were over a hundred and fifty yards away from where I’d seen the common.

By the time it came to driving back round with my kit I’d made my mind up to fish one rod on the freshly cleaned spot just inside the mouth of the bay, mainly because it just looked right, and besides, I figured that The Common would be more likely to pass this spot first on its way out. Rather than parking in the usual car park for this area of the lake I parked up offsite. It was a long walk either way, but for this one occasion it was better that nobody knew I was about.

Bit by bit I carried the kit into the swim, trying hard not to break the foliage on the way in. I’d just carried in the last of my kit when I caught sight of a carp swimming from right to left just a few feet out in front of the swim. I’d not spent much time watching it, but just from its body language and the way that it swum I straight away knew it was the common. It was here already. Looking at the spot a few feet to my right I could see a small, frothy patch of bubbles still popping amongst the scum above it, and the water definitely appeared more coloured than it had looked earlier in the day. Everything was ready to go, all I had to do was ship a rod together, put a bait on and lower it onto the spot.

Whenever I’d baited I’d always dropped a few tigers on the spot, never too many as it’s not an area that the carp used that often, but enough to give me a choice of hookbait. And so that’s what I went for, two Dynamite Monster Tiger Nuts, mainly because the bays resident population of tench would be sure to leave them alone, but also because I could leave them out for long periods of time if necessary.

As it happened, that first drop in wasn’t in the water very long at all and just as I was settling the line at the rods tip I caught sight of two smaller carp approaching the spot from the right. I crouched down lower, and within seconds of the carp dropping down I saw the line flicker before whipping up tight. Hooking one whilst the common was so close by wasn’t ideal, especially as I was fishing a fairly confined area, but after an explosive few minutes I netted a nice mirror of 25lb 8oz, a scattered linear one side and fairly bald the other.

It was a nice carp, but at the time all I was worried about was spooking the common. I left it in the net a couple of minutes and checked out the spot that I’d earlier seen The Common but it was gone. I could only hope it had swum further into the bay rather than off into the main lake, and so after taking a couple of quick shots of the 25lber on the mat and slipping it back, I set about putting on a fresh rig before re-lowering a double tiger nut hookbait back onto the spot.

    The rest of the day was quiet. But, just as it began to get light the following morning, the buzzer signalled another take. To begin with my heart was in my mouth, convinced it was going to be The Common, but within seconds of playing it I realised that it was another of the smaller fish. Still, at 24lb 6oz it was a welcome prize and another confidence booster when it came to the end tackle. Bearing in mind I’d seen very few carp in the area, with every take I felt all the closer.

I checked out the entire bay several times throughout the day, and though there were two smaller carp right at the very end there was no sign of The Common and I began to think that it had moved out. In fact, that night I fished a different swim in a slightly different part of the lake. I winkled out a 20lb plus mirror but come morning I was kicking myself for moving and couldn’t wait to pack away and get back round to the common zone.

The Thursday was quiet, but at least I felt as though I was fishing in the right area again. I was in two minds whether to stay in the swim I’d caught the two mid-twenties from, or whether to move round to the opposite bank to fish a similar area from a different swim. At first light on the Friday it looked so quiet that I decided I’d be best off moving. Not too far from where I’d be fishing to, but still a fair trot with the barrow.

I’d already lifted out my rig and had most of the kit on the barrow when a carp crashed out right over the spot. It wasn’t a big one, a small common of around 15lbs; I could easily see it feeding. In fact, as I watched another carp joined in, this time a pale coloured mirror in the mid-twenties. Just incredible, if they’d been five minutes earlier I would have hooked one. Then again, five minutes later and I’d have been gone…

And so, as you can imagine the barrow was unpacked a bit sharpish and before long everything was set up again. Rather than getting my rig back into position straight away I spent the rest of the morning looking around the bay. It looked quiet and even the weed at the very end of the bay was devoid of life. Over the previous three days there had always been something on show there, either a couple of small carp or a group of spawning tench, but on the Friday it was dead quiet.

A Waiting Game
Still, with what I’d seen at first light I wasn’t planning on moving and I was hopeful that one or two carp would venture back in after dark. The two carp I’d seen weren’t particularly big, but like I said earlier any carp from this area was a special one, and if the small ones were still visiting there was every chance of The Common coming back.

I left it until early evening before re-lowering my double tiger nut hookbait back onto the spot. I’d already baited earlier in the day just in case something should pass through in daylight - half a dozen whole tigers, another half dozen or so lightly crunched up in my mouth, plus a few broken 15mm Red Fish boilies.

I could easily make out the paler coloured pieces of broken tiger nut on the spot and so I knew the bait was still there. Even so, I topped it up with another half a dozen tigers just before dark. Not a lot of bait I know, but when you’re fishing just ten feet from the bank it’s easy to keep everything nice and tight.

During the daytime I had my bed tucked out the way behind some bushes, but come darkness it was carefully carried out and positioned behind the rod. It was a tight swim and I wanted to be on the rod as fast as possible.

It was ever so warm and muggy and the mozzies were bad that night but I must have eventually dozed off sometime around midnight. The next time I woke it was to a short series of bleeps. At such short range I was expecting something a bit more positive from a carp, but with a semi tight clutch I figured that there had to be something on the end. It bleeped a couple more times as I stepped towards the rod, and feeling the line I found it was tight. Just to the left of the spot was a small set of sparse pads, probably no more than a dozen leaves, but upon picking up the rod it became apparent that whatever was on the end had simply darted beneath their cover. As I tightened into it there was a bit of swirling around amongst the pads, but with me applying pressure from directly above I very quickly had it free and wallowing around on the surface, pretty much exactly where I’d hooked it. It was obviously a carp and from the noises it was making quite a good one too. I couldn’t have had it on more than a minute and already I was preparing the net. It was dark in that swim, so dark it was a struggle to see what I was doing, but I could just about make out a carps head and so as soon as I thought it was over the net I went to lift. I felt the cord touch its body, there was a huge explosion on the waters surface and it shot out a few yards. I’d lifted before it was all in and hit it with nets cord. I thought then that maybe it was a little bit bigger than I’d first thought.

Fortunately, it was still dark too dark to see what I was attached to, but by now I had half an idea. I just knew that it was definitely one that I needed to get in. A couple more explosive minutes beneath the tip and it was ready for the net again, though this time I made sure its head was as far as the spreader block before lifting. Again, just as I lifted there was a big explosion of water, but this time it was within the mesh. I pulled the net into the reeds, dropped the rod to one side and then prepared to shine the torch into the mesh.

I could see its length before id switched it on, but once that beam had illuminated those massive golden scales I knew it was the one. I rolled it over in the net, looking at its width and then its tail which has a couple of small but recognisable nicks in the top lobe. Its length and width was enough, but seeing the nicks in the tail was the best bit. YEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSS!

I straight away rang/text three good friends Nigel Sharp, Jamie Smith and Dave Swinchatt, and incredibly all three of them arrived for first light to help out with the pictures and weighing. To a couple of other good friends I sent the text I’d been hoping to one day be able to send. “I’m watching dawn break with the finest King Carp in all the land in my net.” Just magic.

On the scales she went a healthy but spawned out 47lb 4oz, 10lb less than her last capture, but did I care? Did I heck. I wasn’t there for a personal best I was there for the Burghfield Common, and it’s still the biggest and the best common I’ve ever caught.

Over a year on the great fish has yet to visit the bank again, which I have to admit brings a smile to my face. I can think of plenty of big commons, but none as big a challenge as the ‘Bur Common’.  

Until next time, stay lucky."

Tel