The angling on the Mirrors Lake was going well, with Roland, Peter and I catching steadily and after a couple of days my one working bait boat battery was low and I still had plenty of particle left so I decided to have a lead about to see what was what and oiled up my worm drive, so that the reel miraculously came back to life. Praise the lord!
I was also now fishing a rod short on a silt area to the left, in which I had seen activity in the mornings with fish bubbling, so was casting stringers short and that nicked a couple of bites with a nice common of about 12kg quickly falling foul to the adjusted baiting approach. I also picked off a cracking 17.5kg mirror on the long rod along with other mirrors and commons ranging from 12kg up – and was really getting into the swing of things.
I got the feeling, as the week wore on, that the fish were getting more on the bait, as the bites were becoming more frequent wherever I put the rods, and the size was higher than average too. Always a sure sign that a good bait is becoming established; they obviously liked the foody savoury balls of goodness. There is zero doubt in my mind that good bait will always catch more in the long run, and using the HNV-Pro seems to cement this opinion over and over. No breadcrumb specials here my old fruit.
In the meantime, the silt gully at about 70 meters on the right, over which I was spodding, suddenly kicked in and I had 3 fish in quick succession off that rod before the bait I had applied was gone. I got the distinct impression I needed to up baiting levels, so on Saturday I put in all the hemp and half the secret particle (Thaumatin-B sweetened peanuts that I had mushed up with a big f*** off stone). Just before lunch I spombed the lot out there, walked out the rods, marking everything up, knowing full they would get back on the spot as it was ‘rocking’ (as the kids say).
Back from lunch, feeling the Peach taking affect, I carefully caressed the hook points with a Hook Stone, tied on new hookbaits and stringers and got the 2 rods on the baited area – sorted in one chuck each. The left rod was consistently being run about 120m straight towards a distant pylon and was just a dropper of boilies and a cheeky German rig.
That night was the full moon, so we were all excited at the prospect of the big’un Patricia making an appearance, but even before dusk I was confused. No liners or shows on the bait. Surely to God, they hadn’t done it all in the couple of hours that we’d been pigging out on the hog?!