Ugly - Sir Basil

Christ she’s ugly stated my brother as I was flicking through the pages of a magazine, I glanced up expecting to see some woman or another, he pointed at a picture in the magazine and I agreed.

He wasn’t talking about someone he was actually talking about a huge beast of a Carp and although I could see what he meant with his statement but this fish drew me. This came about whilst we were stood in a news agents in Derby looking through carp fishing magazines in the hope of finding adverts for components for salmon fishing, we both new carp anglers used thin plastic tube that we could utilise in tying flys for salmon.

He bought the magazine and we went to back to the rented accommodation where we were staying for 1-week whist visiting my mother. I had moved north a lot of years earlier and had concentrated my efforts into fly fishing for salmon, but my health was not getting better and I no younger so I was hunting the dammed carp again after a long absence. I say dammed because they had taken so much of my time and effort and money years earlier. Whilst looking through the magazine I kept going back to the picture of this huge fish, it looked immense and it fascinated me.

By the end of the week I struggled not to think about the fish and I had been truly hooked,” Im going to catch the fish you know “I stated. My brother’s response was “Your stupid, its ugly looks like a pumped up pig” then after a while he said; “it’s not going to be easy you know”. I knew and I also knew about difficult fishing, as anyone who has fly-fished properly for salmon would verify is a difficult pastime.

I had at times over the last few years spent weeks on end fishing for salmon on the fly. This entailed walking 3-4 miles along the bank casting a fly up to 40 yards across the river and then stripping it back this being repeated every 2-3yard on perhaps 2 of the 4 miles over a 10-14 hour period and then walking back to the car.

But trying to catch the beast was going to be hard in a different way, for a start I lived 700 miles away at the other end of the country but there were other manger problems. She apparently lived in a huge gravel pit 250 acres or so, I didn’t know the water, it was close to manger cites yet quite wild, and knowing what I had read and seen first hand there would be others after her.

I came up with a game plan. I would start to fish for her the following year after first getting various things sorted. I would have to get permission to fish the water if at all possible, I would have to sort out what My partner would be doing whilst I was fishing, and finally get up to speed on as much information about her as possible.

I discovered a number of things about the pit, a ticket could be obtained by a rather strange roundabout way and that the water was actually 300+acres and normally fished by general anglers.

A few real carpers, the carp numbers being very low, rarely fished it.

My next step was to go and look at the water which I started to do in the August, going south for a series of week long holidays to visit my partners family, on each visit I would spend quite a while looking round the pit. However it really was a big water and not easy to see the fish so a new revised plan was hatched, whilst looking round I noticed a sailing club.

I phoned a friend Norman who had a lot to do with sailing and asked if he could help me find out about the club, this he did in due course. The next trip south saw me after my introductions to the club management on a launch slowly exploring the pit, now this was more like it.

I knew the aria that the fish had been caught the last time and some other areas in the pit where the fish tended to frequent from my observations, readings and conversations with various anglers. In fact whilst looking about the place I saw faces I recognised from the angling magazine and it made sense to me what they were after.

Over a period of time I saw quite a few fish but never the one, this would not deter me however, it had quite the opposite effect. A couple of problems were bothering me one was the fact that you could only fish from the bank, the other was the fact that the ticket only allowed you to fish part of the bank, a third at most.

Now these were problems in that I was seeing an area between two islands where food and fish were collecting on westerly winds, and the banks where fishing was permitted were far from where I had seen most fish.

Then in late October I saw a group of six fish two of which were something like the size I was concerned with, and one was definitely the one. I had in the past held 40s so I knew what I was after, although these didn’t look bigger than the 40s.

Doubts started to creep in about the fish, had it weighed heavy with spawn? Did it have temporary water retention? the second was a real possibility if you knew the fish and a bit about fish disease, none the less I carried on with my plans.

In November I started to contact various people I knew in the hope that one would be able to point me in the direction of someone in charge of the rest of the pit. I got the response I was hoping for after three weeks and made arrangements to meet a Manager of a gravel company in December.

Now I will not go into to much detail suffice to say this man came up to Scotland salmon fishing, and was on the board of Directors of the UK side of the gravel company. We met in the December and I was given permission to fish the pit from the other banks, normally reserved for staff.

Two days later I met with the General manager of the plant at the pit, to be told that I would need to get a move on, as there would be some major improvement work being done on the pit. I was told the work was going to start early the following year and would take months if not years, and involved the use of huge dredges and diggers etc. and might even kill the fish. He also let me know that if I set up openly on the bank I would have to be careful as some of the regulars to the pit would think nothing of throwing me and my tackle in the pit, they had already caused a lot of trouble for others. I asked his suggestion and he said “I think you will be all right next spring as the pit is closed to anglers, providing you set up out of sight to stop jealous eyes there’ll be no problem”.

Joking I said how about on one of the islands, his response was “perfect, if you’ll do that I will not have to worry about others causing you problem”, just what I wished to here.

Things were now coming together nicely, however where I thought I would probably fish the pit for a couple of years it looked as though I would have months rather than years. It did however show me again what a bit of asking about could do, and it never ceases to amaze me how many people you can get to with a bit of back scratching. During a conversation with my brother I asked the question “can you look after my place for three months? Whilst I go fishing”, his reply was “ Your surely not still going for ugly, are you?” He agreed and I could start my final preparations to start the following spring.

The day finally arrived and I was sitting in my truck parked on the sailing club slip with my boat behind me after first dropping a lot of my gear off at the gravel works, the rest being in the boat. I unhitched the boat and slowly pushed her out, I got in and a strange shiver ran the length of my spine, it had happened before and no doubt would again, but most importantly I knew what it meant—success. Gary from the Gravel Company drove my truck back to the works, to be parked safely I slowly made my way across the water stopping to look here and there. but saw no fish even though the water was crystal clear. I did however see two anglers fishing on the private side, but just thought that they were of no concern to me.

Finally I arrived at the two islands where I had seen fish feeding the previous year, I unloaded 10kg of my chosen bait over an area the size and outline of my sixteen foot boat. I then proceeded to the biggest of the two Islands where I unloaded all my gear except 10kg of bait, after arranging some of the gear I headed to where I had seen the big fish in October.

This was a plateau in between a small group of rocky islands; I saw no carp but a rather long Trout that at first I took to be a Jack Pike, and a huge shoal of some silver fish. I again unloaded the 10-kg of bait round the boat and headed to the shore where the rest of my gear was, a short wade in chest waders saw me carrying some of my gear to my waiting boat.

I loaded up and headed to where my other gear was now stashed this time not stopping or hanging around, I unloaded and again headed back to load up for the last time. This time after loading up I headed to the two spots I had fed these being about half a mile apart, and this time fed each with 10-kg of mixed pellets and 10 kg of wheat. The reasons for all this bait were, the fish had the size and shape of fish living in France which meant it either came from France or more likely it was a pig and just ate a lot, I had also heard that she liked her food.

I arrived at my chosen home for the next three months give or take and proceeded to arrange my camp. As I did not wish the attentions of undesirables I had to try and hide all my gear from view, this is where years of building hides for shooting paid of.

I must state here that I do not have a never ending cheque book and I have to do things on a budget, so I had saved when and where I could and accepted this was going to be my only campaign of the year.

I had bought with me a 4 tonne chain block and anchor to use hauling the boat out and hopefully back out! And it certainly got it out OK. Once everything was set-up and covered in camouflage netting courtesy of the gulf war I made myself some tea and sat and contemplated everything.

After tea I had a look round my new home and found I could make out the two anglers in the distance, I gave them nick- names -Richard Walker and Fred Taylor, they would be my opponents in this mental game.

For saying this was a relatively small piece of land in the middle of a huge Inland Sea it had an amazing array of flora and fauna quite surprising really, or at least I thought so. I had spent some time out on an island in the giant Lough Corrib in the west of Ireland that had nowhere near the diversity.

I set-up four rods all the same 3.25lb with big pits and 15lb nylon, 20 foot tapered clear shock-leader. Two were set up as hinged stiffrigs one size 6 and one size 4 both with pop-ups in 18mmand 22mm respectivly, the other two were 360o in size 6 and 4 with balanced 18 and 22mm boilies. All four rods with 3or4oz flat-pear leads.

The bottom I would be fishing over was a mixture of clay and gravel and the baited patch had a light covering of silt where the food had collected. The idea was to fish two rods to the bait patch about 60 yards out and two to the opposite island in deferent arias, or to showing fish.

I firstly put a small bag of chops on both the island rods and put them out, one was spot on the money the other short, and both were marked appropriately. Then I set-up the marker rod and cast to the baited aria, once I was happy I cast the other two and the spod to the marker and clipped/marked up appropriately. The marker and spod rods were wound in and put safe.

At long last I could now sit down and relax about time it was now nearly dark, it had taken a long time to get everything here and set-up.

I was fast asleep when the rod went I remember thinking Fish on the first night, however it was not the fish of dreams and turned out to be a reasonable Tench, one you would be happy with if fishing for them. I put the rod out again and went back to bed but not for long as the same thing happened with the same rod three more times, each Tench falling for a 18mm boilie. I got up just as it was breaking light and looked long and hard for signs of fish but I saw nothing.

At lunch time I got out the small inflatable and I inflated it and went out to the baited spot for a look, there was no obvious signs of the feed going so I left things as they were.

A week passed and other than a few Bream I got nothing, Richard and Fred’s buzzers were singing now and again but no prolonged battles so I was not worried. At the weekend my brother drove down and arranged to borrow the launch and come look, on arrival he went for a walk on the club bank where he found someone fishing for carp although they stated they were after bream.

He got the launch at lunchtime and came over the long way not wanting to bring to much attention to him or me, even stopping to check one or two buoys on the way. There were a lot of buoys on the pit some single and quite large others smaller in long lines must have been for the sailing or something, I never did ask. The fortunate thing was there were none near me, you could almost guarantee fish would run in to them.

My brother informed me again of my insanity whilst he was with me, yet his main reason for coming down was to look at a boat in Kent 780 miles from home! He said he would come back in one month or before if I needed, he also said if I caught miss ugly he would be down within 12 hours if I wanted.

Nothing much happened during the next few days which suprised me as it was so warm for the time of the year.

Early on the Wednesday I saw a small boat heading for shore on the club-side, it looked remarkably like someone packing in, I was to find out later why. Early on the Thursday morning I awoke to be met by quite a strong wind, which within a couple of hours had turned into a full-blown gale. I had to move all the gear well back into the trees otherwise the rods would have gone with the huge waves!

It was not a pleasant experience sitting out there in all that weather, I was even joined by a pair of Blackcaps in the bivey looking for shelter, however it soon blew over and I got back into my routine.

This consisted of checking the far off baited area every three days if possible then toping both areas up with fresh bait, the rest of the time I was relaxing and spying on Richard and Fred who were quite entertaining really.

When you sit back and watch people who do not know you are there or do not care it is quite unbelievable what they can get up to, these pair did not disappoint and there guests were the same. One example was one warm day the pair of them and a female guest went for a swim in water that was very cold, I just wish I was closer to see the goose-bumps!

However they were catching on and of whereas I was not, but I was confident I would. It was now nearly a month since I had spoken to anyone but I was expecting my brother anytime in the next couple of days.

I awoke to thick fog on the Friday morning and the sound of fish crashing out, which I couldn’t see until the fog lifted. During the next couple of hours as it got hotter the fish kept crashing out over my baited spot however the rods lay still.

I was sitting drinking a cup of tea looking at the full moon when my peace was shattered by a single bleep followed by a series of bleeps from the baited spot, I picked up expecting a snotty but I was wrong.

After a short spirited fight I pulled an upper double common over the net, a start at last!!!

During the next two hours I had four more fish, two from the baited spots and two mirrors from the island again all upper doubles. The bream moved in afterwards so I presumed the carp had moved on or simply stopped feeding.

In the morning I was waiting and expecting fish over the baited spot again, however I saw nothing and by lunch it was red hot. I baited my spot and then went for a look at the other spot and what a surprise when I got there, there were fish quite clearly feeding. I went back to camp and reeled in the four rods putting two in the boat a couple of bank sticks and buzzers and the other essentials, I then headed back to the largest of the group of island. I put both rods on the money hoping that the fish would come back and that it stayed dry into the night. I started to get liners almost straight away but no runs and by dusk thought they were simply not having it or were wise to me, how wrong was I.

It wasn’t quite dark but the full moon was plain to see in the clear sky and again my peace and quiet was shattered by the beautiful continuos sound of my buzzer in overdrive. I picked up to a solid resistance which I new immediately was not a double this was far stronger as it kited about with occasional powerful lunges, I was shaking with anticipation.

After what seemed like an age I pulled her over the net but it was not what I was expecting, it was a huge fish but not a mirror.

I must say that I have serious problems picking weights up, however I managed to get her on the mat safely.

I carefully got her in the sling and using a tripod as a lever I hoisted her up and checked the weight all 49lbs of it! I laid her back down and examined her fin perfect body, she really was a truly great prize and I doubt she had seen the bank before. She was quite a long fish and a deep walnut brown along the sides yet a greyish blue along the back, but one of the most striking things was the bottom half of her caudal fin was lemon yellow.

I had clearly underestimated the pit as this fish was not one of the group of six I had seen the year before, this fish was well worth the wait but it was not the reason I was here.

I slipped her back and sat there for most of the night, shortly before dawn I baited the spot again and went back to my camp and straight to bed without putting the rods out. When I woke up I switched my phone on and gave my brother a call to let him know the news and see when he would be arriving; the answer to my question was he would not be coming down.

Nothing much happened over the next few days except for bream and tench showing up now and again, then the weather changed and for a week cold easterly winds made it quite uncomfortable.

Then about three weeks after my last fish I had two more within an hour of each other one upper double and one low twenty both over my baited spot Two days later I left my Island home for the shore as the forecast was bad news, I was glad I had as we had gales for five days and after my last experience of a one day gale on the Island it would not have been pleasant.

When the wind finally died I went back out but wondered if was doing the right thing as it was now the first day of May and there was ice in the margins! The next week was not much better with cold easterly winds again and very cold temperatures at night.

My brother arrived at the weekend with the intention of staying on and off for two weeks of my final three. His intention was to fish a series of two day sessions but before he stated he wanted a good look round so he went for a walk round to try and see what was happening elsewhere. He knew know one should have been fishing on the other side and through binoculars he couldn’t see anyone so he chose to walk the dogs along the bank towards Richard and Fred J. After he finished his walk he phoned and assured me that the pair I had nicknamed Richard and Fred J had the manners of rats and as such they were renamed as tip and bog rat. I will not dwell on there behaviour but anglers like them should be banned from waters throughout our land.

I left my Island home and met up with him and helped him set up in his chosen spot. We sat about talking and eating most of the time left before dark but the fish action was slow as expected especially as it was so cold.

I headed back before dark and got my rods back out, although nothing was taking that night or during the next few days.

On Thursday the sixteenth of May I awoke to a fogy morning and I stated that the last time this happened I caught fish after first hearing then seeing fish over my bait, my brother replied “ no fish showing this morning though”.

During the course of the day it got hotter and was quite tropical in comparison to the weather we had been having, for the last few weeks, in fact it was warmer in March. Whilst I was sat there having my tea I saw a fish move under the far bank quite close to one of my rods, I was ready.

My peace was disturbed not by my alarms but by my brothers phone, he had just landed a huge bream the biggest he had seen, I told him to expect a call as it wouldn’t be long before I was into fish.

I started to get liners on one of the Island rods and this went on for what seemed an age before the rod went. I lifted into it and had the fish on for a minute or so before everything went slack, the hook had pulled and it felt a very good fish.

I recast to the same spot and made a drink. Whilst drinking my tea I had various thought drifting through my head not least the question on whether I had missed my chance and lost the big one. I convinced myself I hadn’t and that it was just one of the other big fish. One question kept popping into my head why the big fish in this pit were so elusive, after all they needed to eat a lot and they weren’t under any real pressure.

I came to the conclusion that it was two things one the cold weather and secondly the disturbance from the gravel company machines, I don’t know what they were doing but they created bow waves every now and then.

I came back to reality as a single bleep was emitted from one of my baited spot alarms and I could see the line twitching, however nothing occurred but I was convinced it would. The alarm was screaming its unholy song and I lifted the rod to a solid resistance and I looked at my watch 9.45pm and I was playing a very heavy fish.

It wasn’t a good fight to start as she just came straight to me as a heavy weight until she reached the shallows and realised she was in trouble where upon she just headed back out again.

My rod was bent down to the cork but the spool on the real still kept ticking line out, believe it or not my exact thought was this fish is so ugly she doesn’t what me to see her. Slowly I started to gain line but every now and again she would simply plod back out, a slow but very powerful fight.

Finally she rolled on the surface and took a big gulp of air and the Lady was mine, I dropped the rod and got the net secured. I took a good look at her when I transferred her to the sack to make sure she was the one, although you could not mistake her even if it was just by her bulk.

She had taken me exactly seventeen minutes of powerful playing to land her and she was tired, she was now safely lying in one of my special sacks in deep water where all things being equal she would stay safe until the morning.

I tried to phone my brother but got no answer so I sat and re-tied my rod, as I had removed my whole rig and dropped it in a bag to be saved for future reference. She had picked up a balanced bait on a size 4 curved long-shank 360o which was tied to a 6 inch length of 25lb soft braid. The lead was tied to the clip just to make sure because of snags and rocks.

I had just recast when the phone went it was my brother “sorry I didn’t answer, I was playing a fish” I asked him what it was and got “a nice mirror about twenty, looked as though its been out recently, anyway what did you what?” I replied with oh nothing much except that I got her “what Ugli ” he said, yes I replied Ugli is safe in a sack and awaiting the scales.

All the congratulations were passed about between us and then I arranged to fetch him in the morning.

As I could now finally relax I put my radio on and turned the volume right up to whole lotta Rosie by AC/DC, quite apt really.

I never slept and as soon as it was light I took the anchor I had fetched with me out into deep water where it was dropped with a rope threaded trough the eye. One end of the rope was attached to the boat the other to the chain- block and in a series of pulls the big boat was in the water. I fetched my brother who had packed all his gear away, he informed me there was a bad weather front moving in again and gales expected. We put all his gear in the boat and headed for the Island where whilst I was getting ready he was packing as much of my gear in the boat as possible.

When I was ready the fish was removed from the water and put on the matt where I could look at her properly for the first time. What a beast she was and although she was not long but she was very deep and unlike most mirrors that have brownish coloration she was a steel grey with blue tints. She was to heavy for me to try and pick up unaided so my brother picked her up and placed her on my waiting lap, I held her tight to my chest for the photos. She was not happy about any of this treatment after recovering from her fight and it was quite a struggle to hold her. She was weighed with two sets of scales and I waded out with my brother to gently slip her back where she belonged.

That was 2002 and seems like a long time ago and a lot of water has gone under the bridge since then, the pit has changed a lot. Although I never really found out the true size of the lake as every reference to it gave a different size, it is now much lager than it was then. The sailing club is not allowed to go all over the lake, and the places I investigated with their launch would not be possible now.

I have heard that the great lady is dead and that she had died before I caught her! Very strange. Perhaps I was dreaming who knows, I do know every time I hear a certain bit of heavy metal I smile the same smile I get when I pass the news agents in Derby.

A long time ago a great carp angler told me that with my mental aptitude and attitude I would one-day rock the angling world, I’ve never been so sure.

Most of this tale is from my personal diaries the same diaries I have kept up for most of my life, which one day I’m sure will rock one or two in angling circles.

I almost forgot, as it almost doesn’t matter, her weight 57.3lb of Ugli.

Sir Basil