Tom's Tour St Johns: Return of the Mak!

Well, as I bring you the next instalment of ‘Tom’s Tour’, let me tell you that it hasn’t been easy bringing this second piece to print, not by any stretch of the imagination. With just days-only angling permitted as we attempted a follow-up after Willow Park, it was a real struggle. Now, I’m not going to play my little violin and make excuses, but for one reason or another, it just simply wasn’t happening. I can tell you, though, that it wasn’t through lack of trying! I’ve got quite a few venues on the radar for this series, and one we visited in vain, we’ll definitely be returning to for a good ol’ carve-up. It really is a lovely place, and maybe I can tag the first blank into the planned piece to show some of the reality of angling.

That all being said, let’s get to it, and from the title, you’ll have guessed I’ve come to my home, the mecca that is the day-ticket capital of England: the mighty Linear Fisheries. It was inevitable that I’d be paying this place a visit during this series, and this trip just happened to fall on the night restrictions were lifted, which meant it was going to be a pretty strange start to the session. And so it begins…

Venue Focus: St Johns
Arguably one of the most famous day ticket waters in the country, this 18-acre gravel pit holds at least 40 different 30-pounders, with many of these bigger fish being caught at over 36lb at the right time of the year. On top of this, there are at least 7 different 40-pounders, four of which are in excess of 47lb! Suffice to say, the fishing can be incredible!

MAKING THE EFFORT!
I knew it could potentially be very busy on my arrival, and so I knew that I needed to bite the bullet and travel up on the Sunday evening to get a place. The van was already loaded from Saturday’s sort-out, and the plan was to leave the house around midnight, to get to the gate in readiness for the morning. The priority would be securing a swim. There was every possibility of turning up at a normal time, only to then be turned away, so getting there early was a must! 

On arrival, I was met by a queue of cars down the main road, and I slotted into line with everyone else. It was crazy to see so many keen anglers ready to fish once again, with the nights now being permitted, and no doubt many of you will have seen the images of the queues across the country, on social media. I just want to say, though, how incredibly everything was handled that evening and morning by the Linear team. They had clearly planned for this very scenario way in advance, and things couldn’t have gone smoother. Anyone saying otherwise is lying and just spreading bull. I’m sure everyone who was in the queue would’ve witnessed what I did, and that’s what makes Linear one of the very best complexes around. So to Ian, Ben, Chris and everyone involved that night, hats off chaps. 

YOU MAKE YOUR OWN LUCK!
Sitting there in anticipation, I could see there were plenty before me—I think I was number 62 in the line! How it worked was Ben, the bailiff, would come down the vehicles and you’d choose where you wanted to fish. You’d then be given a raffle ticket with the number of your peg. It was a great system, and it meant that you went straight to a peg, with no bucket races required. With maps in hand, it was clear to see where was available and where was busy.

Almost instantly, B1 and B2 were full. Next I had eight choices of swim on St Johns, and no one had gone in peg 4—the Dugout. Warm temperatures were forecast with a nice south-westerly wind due to pump into the bank… I couldn’t believe my luck! As soon as the gates opened, I got my head down in the van for a few hours. I was shattered, like most who’d made the early morning journey to be on the gate. With all the pegs reserved through the system in the queue, I was in no rush to dash to the peg to start fishing, being so tired. 

A few hours later—I was still knackered!—I grabbed the barrow and was on my way to the peg. There was no rush,  and I just took it all in with the sun rising in front of me. Linear is like a drug to me; no matter how many times I set foot on those Oxfordshire banks, I get the same buzz every single time, and boy was it good to be back after such a long absence! 

LET HISTORY REPEAT ITSELF
With the weather forecast as it was, and with my prior knowledge of the area, I knew the number of wraps I needed to fish. Three solid bags later, and the rods were out in the morning mist. I did set the bivvy up first, to be fair, which is something I rarely do. Knowing I was there for three days with little chance of a move, however, I thought I’d best make myself comfy and just enjoy being out properly once again. Three bags were out, but not until after I had a spell of rubbish angling. Being so tired, I fished like a tool for half an hour, cracking off with the fluoro leader. Eventually, I got sorted, though, and I got my head down once again. 

Solid bags are such a good tactic for quick bites, as they offer an enticing mouthful of bait. I’ll go into detail about how I tie these. As my last feature was Zig-related, I don’t really want to cover the same ground again, although many of the fish did come to them. I always carry solid bags with me, and they’re usually my first port of call at the start of each session, so the tactic’s well worth covering for those interested. 

I felt so sleep-deprived and I needed to catch up after the previous night. As soon as I woke up from my nap, with the sun shining, I knew the solid bags would be just a temporary tactic before the sun crept higher. That said, I woke up to a few bleeps on the right-hand rod, and these were followed shortly after by a one-toner. There was a bank of weed between me and the spot, so I knew that once I’d coaxed the fish over the potential danger area in front, it’d be plain sailing. As always with the carp in Linear, however, it didn’t half ruck! Eventually, I got the better of him, though, and I shuffled my first carp into the net: a lovely looking mirror with a cool saddleback look. 

Whilst the bite was a good sign, I knew that Zigs were needed, as the sun’s heat began to increase rapidly, warming those upper layers. Three eight-foot Zigs were tied, clipped up and fired straight back out to the zone. I’d done well on eight-foot Zigs before in the swim, so it was a no-brainer to start at that depth. Another lie-down was in order with Herbie, my trusty carp hound, in the house, and before I knew it, it was late afternoon—I can sleep for England, and that definitely needs to be on my CV!

CHECK, CHECK AND CHECK AGAIN!
Being in a quite relaxed mood, I decided to wrap up the leading rod and double-check the spot. It’s pretty even in depth all around the peg, but there are flecks of gravel and silt, so I just wanted to make sure that I was happy before committing any bait to it. I whipped up a mixture of Manilla Active, hemp, Cloudy Manilla and corn, whilst getting the rods ready for the evening ahead. I wanted at least two rods on the bait, but with the moon bright, I still fancied some foam-dangling during the night, so the third rod would retain an eight-foot Zig Rig. My faithful Peach and Pepper D-Rigs, though, would sit nicely over some bait. 

I didn’t have to wait long before some action came my way on the Zig, with what can only be described as a massive dustbin lid. It was a slab of a thing, and I even weighed it—you’d take a 15lb bream on a Sunday morning match, I’m sure! An hour or so later, I did receive the bite from a carp that I wanted. Once again it came to the Zig rod, and it turned out to be a fish of 18lb. I did start wondering at this stage, whether having two of the three rods on Zigs would be better. It just felt right, given how bright the moon was. It’s also worth mentioning at this point, just how clear the lake was. It was probably the clearest I’d ever seen St Johns. It really was something else, and this cemented my decision to wind in the middle rod and switch it to a Zig.

The evening drew in, and just as I was drifting off, the rod on the baited area screamed away in the moonlight. I knew instantly that it wasn’t a carp, but a dreaded cat! As they do, it almost pulled my arm off, but eventually I bundled it into the net. At a rough guess, I’d say it was around 50lb. Whilst good fun, it certainly wasn’t what we’d come for! 

SNOOZE, YOU DON’T LOSE!
The sleep during the day would prove to be vital that first night, as the action just seemed to keep coming. After the catfish had come off the baited spot, I knew that I was in with a shout of a carp, the cat no longer sitting over the bait, protecting it and warning others away. I topped up the spot with half a dozen Spombs and got the rod back out. 

I couldn’t even get the sleeping bag zipped up before I was interrupted again by the baited rod going off, and this time the culprit was a 14lb mirror. The session was panning out exactly as I’d hoped. It was turning into a dream return, and that evening, I set my alarm in anticipation of the morning to come.

I remember waking up around four in the morning to go for a wee, and the moon was so bright, it was like a headlight on full beam shining into my eyes. It really was a sight to behold, and because of the heat generated by the lake during the day, a thick mist had formed out in front, and this made it pretty much impossible to see. The morning was once again going to be a bright one, and warm too, so once the sun had regained its position high in the sky, I knew all three rods would be back on the Zigs. 

The morning alarm came, and no sooner had I climbed out of the sack to get the brews on with Tom’s arrival imminent, than the right-hander dropped back. A classic Zig bite heralded a lengthy battle with what felt like a good fish, one far larger than the previous doubles I’d landed. Not long after, I banked my second mirror of the trip, which turned out to be another thirty, and this kick-started a flurry of morning bites. It shows how getting your Zig depths just right for the situation, is the key to success. 

Not one other person I could see was adjusting their depths or switching tactics whilst I was there, and that baffled me! People could see that I was catching on them, so why didn’t they change their rods to Zigs and try their luck? Maybe they were inexperienced with the tactic, but you won’t know, and you won’t improve unless you try. Zig fishing is an art form, and when they’re in the upper layers and floaters aren’t really an option, there’s only one method you need to use.

SHOWTIME!
As Tom Gibson (the cameraman) barrowed into the swim, I had the biggest one in the net. I wanted to leave it until last whilst doing self-takes with the others, just in case he arrived in time to do some ‘proper’ shots of the mirror. It was a truly stunning fish, one of the Elstow babies, no doubt, and I’m sure Len will be looking down on that carp with a big grin on his face. 

We rattled off the stills and got to work getting our relevant imagery whilst I contemplated what to do with the rods. The temperatures were going to hit the twenties, and it was obvious where the carp would be in the layers. I whipped all the rods in, and set about tying some ten-foot Zigs for all three. I’d be fishing the same spots as such, but hopefully around a foot below the surface. To my surprise, very little happened for a few hours, even though it looked prime for a bite, the odd fish poking its nose out of the water as they basked in the sunshine. The heat was really picking up and the sun crept around the trees directly in front of the swim. That seemed to encourage the carp to vacate my area, and the bay to the right. They were clearly present in numbers, and I just hoped I’d chosen wisely with the Zig depths, and their colours.

The more the day progressed, the more the activity increased at the surface. Finally, the right-hand rod signalled a few bleeps. Then there was a big drop-back—a classic Zig bite—and the fish instantly kited right. I shouted to the guys that side to be wary if they started receiving any indications, as it would be my line undoubtedly, trailing through their swim. It felt like a good fish. Eventually, I managed to get the better of it, but not without picking up one of the other angler’s lines. I swooped the net underneath what looked like a thirty-plus fish, sorted the guy’s line from the bird’s nest and secured the fish. Unbeknown to us, the middle rod had tightened up whilst I was playing the first one, and I was more than likely attached to another fish. Double bubble! 

This time the fish kited well right, and after some quick thinking, Tom waded the rod down to the next peg, whilst I walked round to carry on the battle. Eventually, we got the fish up the marginal shelf, and then made good use of the spare net. It turned out, I believe, to be a fish from the Underwater films… Gummies or something? It’s a bit of an old warrior, with some damage to its mouth. Hence it’s so hard to catch, but it was absolutely nailed on the Zig. The left-hander remained, and yep, you’ve guessed it: a triple take! This time we had no issues getting it in, and it turned out to be a low-twenty mirror, and typical ‘Simdog’. After a few shots in the water, she was back. Once again, it shows how important it is to get the depth right. Every fish was nailed, as can be seen from the shot of the Aligna in its mouth, and this cemented my choice of depths for the remainder of the day.

ENJOY THE MOMENT!
After the carnage from the nigh-on triple take, it was time to just chill out. Tom needed some shots from around the lake, and he returned with some ice creams and cold cans of Coke—just the job for cooling off in the sunshine. The carp were still there, and with each re-cast, they spooked on the surface as the lead fell through the water. It didn’t take long after I’d demolished the ice cream for another one of the rods to go again, this time with another 32lb mirror. 

Finley, from Monster Baits, had been fishing Hardwick. He’d heard about the action and so came over for a few hours to have a catch-up. Finally, things settled, and we had a chance to get some shots done for the feature, and update the timeline in the diary—trying to keep tabs on everything when it’s carnage is no mean feat! Other than the ice creams, we’d not had anything to eat since the morning and were all starving. After I’d rustled up some of my favourite salmon fishcakes, we were looking good for the rest of the day.  

With the evening drawing in, I sat back watching some streamed Call of Duty: Warzone—it’s so addictive—and set about getting some fresh D-Rigs tied and bait mixed for the night ahead. After having bites over bait the previous night, I had to commit one rod to the deck again. 

The evening drew to a close, and the carp were sloshing out in front. The shows, though, were far more aggressive, from fish on the bottom, rather than Zigs, if that makes sense. With that, I had a take on the left-hander over the bait, and it was at this point that I knew changes needed to be made. The fish turned out to be a solid mirror, and yet another over thirty pounds—the average stamp of fish I was catching was incredible!

With the mirror slipped back, I wound in the middle rod and switched it to the bottom, as the carp had clearly got their heads down for the evening. 

RAINING CATS AND SIMDOGS!
With some large cats present in the lake, it was inevitable that one would make its way onto the baited area, but this time it got the better of me. The take came at around midnight, and it went off like a steam train. There was no stopping it, and eventually the hooklink parted—which was no surprise. It’s never nice losing any fish, but  given the ferocity of a catfish, there’s always the chance of it doing you in some way, shape or form. 

The night once again brought more bites, and I landed a few more doubles. Then, on first light, I had my final fish before Tom left me to head back to Sticky’s headquarters. A lovely looking mirror was the last fish viewed through the lens for this particular piece. I stayed for the rest of the day, and the night, and things got a little out of hand, shall we say. I packed up on the Thursday morning, and headed to collect my little girl from school. I left the complex with the biggest grin on my face for a good long time. The session tally was twenty-nine fish, seven of which over the thirty-pound mark. Wow! 

Until next time, when I’ll see you on the next leg of the tour.