Norfolk Gravel Pit, looking over to the
Bomb Crater area (on the left)
A week long session gave me ample time to
hopefully locate and move onto the fish in the
Norfolk Gravel Pit. And with that in mind, a social
night in the "Pub Swim" with my old friend Geezer
seemed in order.
And so, after a decidedly wobbly start to the
session it was time to get to work. At 8 or 9 acres,
it was not hard work to walk around the pit a few
times in a day, but with deep water and unhelpful
fish, it is not always easy to find them on those
wanders. However, with hot weather forecast, that
would hopefully make location trips a bit more
fruitful.
It was whilst on one of these trips I found a group
of fish underneath a snag next to the "Table Tops"
swim, after watching them for a while, I felt sure
they would be up for a floater, they chomped
everything that drifted over their heads on the
gentle breeze. I reasoned that the best course of
action would be to continue my walk round the lake
to get some stalking bits and pieces and get back on
them. The route back took me past the "Bush" and
"Helens" swims, and past an old unused swim called
"The Bomb Crater".
Essentially The Bomb Crater is a small Norfolk reed
lined bay, with a pair of willows on the right and
the reeds forming a natural point on the left hand
opening. Further past the willows to the right of
the Bomb Crater sits Helens.
As the Bomb Crater swim had not been used for a
couple of years, it was fairly overgrown with the
reeds virtually blocking the view into the bay.
After picking my way down through the nettles and
brambles, I reached the back of the reed line and
gently opened a gap through to peek at the water,
the sight I saw took my breath away.
In a lake with a stock of roughly eighty fish, it
appeared that three quarters of the population where
in or around the small bay, I was looking into! Fish
were everywhere. Mooching under the surface, with
some feeding on the surface scum.
I now had a (somewhat healthy) problem. Which ones
to go at.
Returning to the Pub Swim I told Gary that with the
wind pushing over the other side of the lake I’d
give it a few hours over there to see, just in case,
on the off chance, if I can spot anything. (We’ve all
done it).
I returned to the original group of fish I saw, but
for some reason (I think I’d probably spooked them
in hindsight) they were acting far cagier. I then
saw a couple of heads appear near the Bomb Crater,
Gary had suspected I’d seen something and walked the
other way around the lake, picking up Leighton on
the way. The game was up.
My decision made for me, if I didn’t move
into Helens, one of the other lads would before me. So I
high-tailed it over there with the gear I had, then
went back for the rest of the kit. The fish were
there still, and showed no sign of moving.
It was a waiting game to get the rods out, a marker
rod was well out of the equation though. So two rods
were eventually placed on the gravel bar that comes
out from between the twin willow trees to the left
of the swim, one fairly close in, the other around
15 yards out. The right had rod was cast to the
right of the swim, onto another bar area. By then it
was early evening, and time to retire to bench on
the bank above the swim, that gives a good view of
the main body of the lake.
After the odd sighting in the vicinity at dusk, it
was soon time to turn in. The night itself was
uneventful on the indicators, but dawn was a
different matter!
View a video of "Chops" on the bank
With a fine summers dawn sun burning into the fresh
morning mist, the middle alarm went straight into a
slow running unbroken tone. I slowed the spool with
a finger whilst lifting the rod into a solid
resisting fish. The fish had swum the correct side
of the bar from my point of view and was by now
starting to exert a nice bit of pressure on the rod.
In the deep margins the fish used its bulk against
the resistance of rod, and gave a healthy account of
itself, without causing too many problems, and
eventually I was able to move the fish into the
upper layers.
As if the towel had been thrown in the great mass of
fish rolled over the landing net cord, whilst taking
in a single mouth of air.
Opening out the net, I caught sight of a scaled
flank of a large mirror carp. With Gary on hand to
help with the weighing, we first thought she had
come up an ounce short, but he persuaded me to weigh
again and the needle settled just over the 30lb
mark, so the average was taken, 30lb of classic
English mirror carp.
