A Christening At Christchurch

It was the April of 2018 when I first ventured to Christchurch Lake on the Linch Hill complex. At the time, Christchurch, and its neighbouring lake, Willow, were accessible via day ticket, with Stoneacres being run as a syndicate. Nestled deep in the Oxfordshire countryside, Linch Hill is an iconic fishery surrounded by epic scenes of natural biodiversity; it truly is one of the most beautiful places to angle for big old English carp. The lakes have matured and they provide habitat for all forms of wildlife, including muntjac deer, birds, and a large resident badger which likes to sneak up and surprise you in the middle of the night. All three lakes on the complex contain a variety of strains of old English carp, including some really big commons and mirrors, and the scaly ones for which Linch Hill is famous. Christchurch itself is a very tricky water with a good head of carp, the stock estimated at around a hundred in its nine acres. 

Upon on arrival, I instantly felt at home with the venue, and was excited for the challenge ahead. I had a brief chat with Nick, the bailiff, and he said that the carp in Christchurch were only just starting to wake up. We had just come out of a really cold winter that year, so I was hardly surprised when he also mentioned that only one fish had been caught so far that spring. After our conversation, I made my way to the lake and plotted up in a swim known as the End Trees, but the following three nights’ fishing were uneventful. 

With work and a new home taking priority, it was late September before I finally returned to the water. After lapping the lake several times, I decided to set up in the Bacon Swim. I noticed a few dense weedbeds out in front, and could clearly see that there was activity in the swim. I leaded around and eventually found a nice silty spot just off a weedbed. I then dispatched a couple of 12mm Peach & Pepper pop-ups to the spot and proceeded to bait up with washed-out Krill boilies.

The following morning, my right-hand rod let out a few bleeps and I noticed that the line was starting to tighten. I lifted the rod and found myself in contact with a powerful fish. It weeded me almost immediately, so I walked backwards slowly until I felt the fish kick again. After landing it, some of the lads came around and recognised the fish as the Baby Orange. A mirror with deep, orangey glows, at 36lb it was my first Christchurch carp.

It was unfortunate that after that trip I needed to take a long break from angling, and having heard one year later that Linch Hill was to revert back to a syndicate water, I was left feeling disappointed. However, it’s better to be lucky than to be rich, as the old saying goes, and one morning I received a phone call from Scott Lloyd who told me that Nick had noticed my name down on their old waiting list.

“So, do ya fancy a ticket then, mate”? Scott said.

“Yeah mate, definitely. Count me in!” I replied.

By this time, we were heading towards Christmas 2019, with the lake due to become a syndicate water once again on 1 April, 2020. 

In the New Year, I spent a lot of time preparing for opening week. Then, just like that, a global pandemic decided to bring the world to an immediate standstill as we were all placed under lockdown restrictions. To be honest, I was devastated. Not having been able to get out for over a year had taken its toll, mentally, and I was faced with even more delays as I looked to return to the bank. I work full-time for the NHS, however, and I knew deep down that the most important thing to do was put angling out of my mind and crack on with what needed to be done at work.

After the first initial Coronavirus wave, things began to ease up at work, and the new, more relaxed restrictions allowed a number of outdoor activities, including angling. By this time we were into very late spring as Nick put out a text to inform members that the lakes were due to reopen on 1 June. I decided to leave it for the first week, though. I knew that it was going to be extremely busy, and so decided to travel down a week later. 

The first few weekend trips were completely uneventful, and it became apparent that only a small number of swims were producing fish. Due to how busy the lake was, however, I just couldn’t get on them.

It wasn’t until late August, when I was finally on annual leave with a three-night fishing trip planned, that I returned. I decided to get to the lake before first light to look for signs of feeding carp. Most of the activity seemed to be down the far end of the pond, in a swim called the Point. I checked the weather forecast on a regular basis before the trip. I knew that a fresh south-westerly was due to spring up the next day and that the pressure was due to drop to a very carpy 998mb—absolute prime weather for fishing the Point! 

Once set-up, I noticed a few big carp patrolling the nearside marginal reeds, and I pre-baited a spot with tigers, hemp and some crushed Krill boilies. I then took the time to tie some rigs before returning to the baited spot to look for signs of activity. Upon returning, I noticed immediately how coloured the water had become, and as I crept closer, I could make out two decent-sized carp troughing on my bait. I knew that it wouldn’t be easy to lower a rig on the spot without spooking them, so chose to let them completely clear me out of bait. Once the fish had moved out, I hand-placed the rig on the cleanest part of the spot and clipped the line to a pole via the washing line method. I wanted the carp to avoid coming into contact with the main line, and that wouldn’t have been possible without using the washing line given the number of small, but dense weedbeds between the rods and the rig. Rig-wise, I opted to use a simple bottom-bait presentation consisting of a size 5 Grippa tied to Tungsten Loaded Semi Stiff with the Hair trapped around the bend of the hook with the aid of silicone tubing. The hookbait was a single large tiger nut. I tend to favour these for the majority of my edge fishing—I find tigers appear more natural in the edge than a boilie. Carefully, I applied another small handful of bait around the rig before returning to my swim. My two other rods were cast to open-water spots, just beyond a low-lying band of Canadian pondweed where the silt met the gravel. 

By afternoon, the wind had picked up. We were on the receiving end of some epic downpours, so I decided to chill out and keep my eyes peeled, looking out across the water for signs.

Afternoon soon became evening. The light was fading and I made myself a brew, but I don’t think I even got to take one sip before I heard my alarm let out a series of bleeps. It was the margin rod. Its tip was bent over and I could clearly see that a fish was attached to the rig that had been clipped to the washing line pole. I lifted into the fish, the line unclipped from the pole and the water in the far margin erupted as a carp slapped its tail on the surface. I could see the fish powering away from the reeds before it ploughed straight for the neighbouring weedbed, but after applying steady pressure, I managed to steer it from danger. The fish then swam towards me and managed to find sanctuary in a much larger weedbed. In the swim lays a big, fallen tree, so I tried to get on top of it to gain a better angle and extract the fish from the weed. It felt solid, and all I could hear was the line singing in the wind before finally, the fish kicked out. Its face covered in weed, it was then a case of just keeping the fish coming until it was over my landing net cord.

As I peeled the weed away from the fish, I was greeted by the sight of a massive common. It was huge, and I started to tremble from the shock of seeing what lay in my net. I needed help and so messaged Ben, who was fishing over on Willow.

‘Mate, I’ve got a massive common in the net. I’m shaking… it’s huge!’

Ben responded with, ‘I’m on my way over, mate.’ 

Within ten minutes, Ben appeared in my swim. “Let’s take a look at what ya got then, mate…” He peered into the net and lifted the carp’s shark-like tail. “Mate, it’s the Baby Perch. That’s a mega one… don’t come out often, either.”

We lifted her in the sling and hoisted her on the scales, which then read 43lb exactly. Covered in deep, bronze scales, she was a new PB. I distinctively remember the heavy rain completely subsiding at this point, which allowed us to take the photos before we let her go. The atmosphere was truly magical, and it was a great way to kickstart my campaign on the syndicate.

After that trip, the lake became exceptionally busy right through until the end of October. I could fish only at weekends during this period, but I had some days booked off work in the last week of October. In the meantime, I chose to make better use of my time and do a weekend or two on Willow, where I caught a few lovely commons to 26lb. With autumn being my favourite time of year, though, I couldn’t wait to get back on Christchurch. 

Later that month, I arrived at the lake to see a couple of fish showing in front of the Point, and so decided to set up there. After my first night, however, I noticed that the bulk of the fish were showing off the back of the wind, down the far end of the pond in peg 21. The great thing about fishing the Point is that it gives you an excellent view of the entire lake, so it’s hard to miss what’s going on, unless you’re not paying enough attention to the water. I spoke with the angler in peg 21, a guy named Stu. He said that he was off the next morning, so I dropped a bucket in ready. My 9-year-old son, Jay, was with me at the time. It was the school holidays and he’d fancied a trip down to the lakes. I explained to him that if we wanted to catch a fish, then we need to be down the other end of the lake, to which he responded, “I’ll give you a hand with your kit, Dad.” What a little legend!

We got down the other end of the lake early the following morning, and as I stood up in the tree, I could clearly see that there was a large number of fish present. Stu was just leaving. He wished us good luck and said that he’d noticed a few big fish in the swim the day before, including one called the Long Common. This long, dark common has a massive, rudder-like tail, and fins like the paddles on a Viking longboat. The only drawback with the swim, however, is that it commands a very small amount of water, the one opposite, called the New Dig, having priority over 70 per cent of what’s out in front. As I was leading up, an angler dropped in opposite me. He came round to let me know that he intended to fish long, towards my swim. The area he intended to fish was within his boundary, so I reasoned with him regarding what distances I would be fishing. 

Leading up, I found nothing but weed, but after persevering for a while I managed to find a discreet, but reasonably long strip of gravel running towards my swim around 35 yards out. I baited the area with a combination of hemp, corn and Manilla pellets, opting to fish double ESP plastic corn hookbaits. These sank slowly under the weight of a size 4 Classic hook. Having concluded that less would be more in this angling situation, I chose to fish with just two rods on the spot.

It wasn’t until first light the following morning that the right-hand rod was away. On connecting with the fish, I met with a few heavy lunges before a carp rose to the surface. There, it thrashed like a serpent before going straight in the net at the first time of asking. It was the Long Common, the fish that Stu had seen the previous day. The unique and long fish read 41lb 4oz on the scales. My son was over the moon with the capture and we took some amazing autumnal shots before slipping her back into the depths of Christchurch. 

With a potential promotion at work and with Christmas looming, I opted to do one more trip before the end of the year. It wasn’t to be, though. The lake had pretty much stopped doing bites by this point, and other things in life took priority.

Eventually, I managed to get back to the lake after the early 2021 lockdown restrictions had been lifted. It was April, the spring felt more like winter with the fishing slow. It wasn’t until the end of May that the weather started to warm up, so most of my time on the bank was spent socialising and having barbecues with the lads.

Come early June, everything was on the up. Life was beginning to flourish and the carp were properly on the feed. I set up in the New Dig, and after climbing a nearby tree I noticed a group of six carp patrolling the margin below me, next to the inlet pipe. My trusty bottom-bait rig with its double tiger nut hookbait was placed on a clean spot next to the pipe, along with a small handful of chopped tigers and Manilla boilies. My first bite came the following morning and resulted in a pristine 30lb 10oz common. After taking the pictures, it was time to pack up and head home.

It was July 3 when I returned, one Friday evening after work. A few of the lads mentioned that the lake was doing the odd bite, but that it had fished poorly all week. Ever the optimist, I decided to lap the lake and look for signs. I noticed a few backs breaking the surface in peg 11, which goes by the name of No Carp Corner. From a tree, I noticed a few carp visiting a clean spot along the tree-line to the right of the swim. I gave the area a handful of chopped tigers and Manilla boilies before leaving it until the morning when a fresh southerly wind was due—a wind from the south, blows the bait in their mouth, they say. I spent the night doing a bit of stargazing; Saturn had come extremely close to Jupiter during the summer, and with my star sign being Capricorn, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was to prove a good omen…

With coffee consumed the following morning, I wrapped my double tiger nut bait in Manilla boilie paste and placed the rig on the spot. The fresh wind kicked in, and come mid-afternoon I received a one-toner on the Delkim. It was then a simple case of getting in the lake and walking beyond the tree-line to play the fish. Ben appeared and offered to assist with the landing net, and after a few heavy lunges, the fish was over the net cord. A stunning linear with a floppy tail was laid along the unhooking mat ready for photographing and weighing. The fish went 35lb on the scales, and after some lovely water shots had been taken, it was released to fight another day. 

A fresh rig was clipped on and lowered back on the spot before I celebrated my capture with a barbecue and a cider. The breeze continued to pump into the swim as we headed towards evening, and just as the light started to fade, the Delkim  sounded once again. With rod in hand and my waders full of water, I did battle with a really heavy fish. Ben soon reappeared behind me. He grabbed the net from my hand and this allowed me to concentrate on playing the big fish. After a few desperate lunges, the carp broke the surface before it rolled slowly into the waiting net. We instantly recognised it as the Box Common, a mega carp of epic proportions, and one which I had read about in Terry’s second book. The planets had aligned for me. I’d dreamt about catching ‘The Box’ from the very outset of my campaign on ‘Church’. She went a hefty 41lb 10oz on the Reubens, and after the photos, we all cheered with joy as she was released under the night sky. 

The fishing became really difficult as we entered August, and with Christchurch being rich in natural food, the carp just seemed to avoid anglers’ baits. With just the odd fish getting caught, I proceeded to rack up eleven blank nights as things became very frustrating. 

Feeling really beaten up by the carp and suffering a nasty friction burn on my left arm after falling from a tree, I decided to leave things for a bit before returning after my wedding anniversary in mid-September. With summer drawing to a close and with the availability of natural food declining, there was always hope of catching carp on my next trip.

It was evening of Thursday, 9 September, and with the following day booked off work, I headed down to the lake. When I arrived, the lake was extremely busy, only a handful of swims remaining. A few anglers were heading home the next morning, however, and so I spent the night in peg 1 listening for signs of carp. After hearing a lot of big fish crashing out to my right in front of the New Dig, I knew where I needed to be the following morning. Dibsey, who was fishing my chosen swim, left on the Friday morning. Having caught a fish midweek, he was happy with his result. As the September sun rose above the horizon, I began moving my kit into the New Dig.

Once in the swim, I prepared a concoction of bait. With the carp being so tuned in to naturals, I decided to mix predominantly hemp with 12mm Krill Active boilies, Ellipse pellets, and relentless amounts of Sticky Baits’ Pure Fish Liquid. Rig-wise, I tied up Ghost Fluorocarbon D-Rigs to size 5 Chod-Hammers, and presented these on helicopter set-ups. Hookbaits were my favourite orange 12mm Peach & Pepper pop-ups. These I critically balanced by drilling out the bottom of them before inserting a small amount of Tungsten Loaded putty. 

In front of the New Dig is a renowned gravel bar. It’s covered in shallow layers of both Canadian Pondweed and silkweed. I leaded around, looking to find the area with the least silkweed, to avoid hindering my presentation. Both rigs were cast to the cleanest spot I could find, landing with a firm crack as the leads dropped. Eight Spombs of the mix were deployed to the spot. The third rod was washing-lined across to a clean spot on the right-hand margin where I’d also heard lots of activity the previous night.

The night was warm and muggy and the fish were really active in the areas out in front. I felt extremely confident for the session ahead, and after a really busy day getting everything bang on, I got some shut-eye. 

The following morning, I was woken by a few bleeps on the left-hand rod on the gravel bar. As I turned to look, the alarm went into complete meltdown, the line ripping from the reel’s spool. I sprinted to the rod and connected with a powerful fish. It flat-rodded me on several occasions, but after a short but intense battle, the carp finally admitted defeat.

I peered into the net and turned away in disbelief at what I’d seen. I had to double-check both sides of the fish to reassure myself that I wasn’t dreaming. It was indeed the fish called the Pretty One, a real old character and a rare visitor to the bank. One of the A-Team, most would agree that it’s the finest looking mirror in Christchurch. It went 40lb 6oz. I couldn’t believe it… my fourth Christchurch forty. All the blood, sweat and tears were paying off. 

Joel and a few of the lads came round to witness the capture and assist with the photos. I lifted her out of the lake and gently rested her along the mat before slowly unzipping and peeling away the sling. Now, some carp have an aura about them, and this carp is definitely one. We were speechless as we gazed down on this woodcarving of a mirror, its chiselled scales running down the entire length of its flank, not to mention the pigment of orange-red glows. It was one of the most magnificent carp anyone could lay their eyes on. It had a tiny overslung mouth, big scallop-like pecs and a perfect tail. Everything about it was flawless. After drooling over it for what seemed like forever, we cracked on with the photos so that we could return the fish safely to its Christchurch home. 

Anyone who has fished Linch Hill will know there is a ritual in place, one I had evaded until this point. However, the lads weren’t going to let me get away with it on this occasion. They call it the Linch Hill soaking. I vividly remember Joel saying, “Right, you’re getting a soaking, Powley!” He was behind the camera and had everyone lined up with buckets and buckets of water. The soaking commenced as Joel fired off a few decent shots. It was a mega feeling, a truly magnificent capture, and a memory that will last a lifetime… it was like being Christened at Christchurch! I now look forward to ticking a few more of those special carp off my list as we head into the 2022 season. All the best!