No Bullsh*t, Just Good Solid Angling - St. Ives Shallow Pit

Rewinding the clock back to 2017, I enjoyed undoubtedly the best year of my angling life… one I might only have dreamt of, perhaps, and one which will always bring a huge smile to my face, each and every time I think about it. I simply couldn’t put a foot wrong. I was riding my luck, of course, but that’s what you have to do with your fishing. It certainly wasn’t all luck, however—casually puts away own trumpet having blown it! 

REKINDLING THE BUZZ  - Shallow Pit has it all—everything about it just oozed carp
It all started off, of course, on Burghfield, when I had the Common. That fish alone, was enough to make a year. I am not trying to kid anyone when I say that I braced it with another forty-pounder. After that, I just couldn’t settle anywhere. There just wasn’t the buzz to sit it out on one lake. Having had the year completely freed up in the spring, I flitted between all sorts of waters trying to regain that buzz. The same year, I started doing tuitions. I found helping others to catch their PBs super rewarding, and for a time, it filled my adrenaline gap, shall we say. 

During all this flitting about, I acquired a Shallow Pit ticket. It wasn’t a venue I had given a great deal of thought to previously, but I knew that it contained some mega carp, so I took the plunge and gave it a go. I turned up almost blind, in a way. I did very little homework and went in with a blank canvas, as it were. 

I turned up for my very first session with butterflies in my stomach—like a kid at Christmas, almost. I love that feeling, and I think it is lost on a lot of people these days, as they find out everything before they get to the lake… even down to the number of wraps to the spots! They miss out totally on that new beginning, and the buzz you get from figuring it out yourself. One thing’s for sure: moving away from the waters around Reading and onto the Shallow Pit got the buzz going again for me!

I fell in love with the Shallow Pit on my first walk around it. It was overgrown, and everything about it just oozed carp, and it became apparent very quickly, why it was so named. It was indeed, shallow for the most part. The average depth was three to five feet, with only a few deeper areas. 

LIGHTBULB MOMENT - Never forget: grebes can be an angler’s best friend…
My first night passed pretty uneventfully, as it happened. A few fish showed at range, but I couldn’t tell exactly where they were. The following morning, though, I spotted some grebes. These birds are an angler’s friend, as wherever you see them hunting, it will be clear and weed-free. They don’t dive through weed, but will work the channels between the growth. The one I saw was right in the zone where I thought the fish were boshing out during the night. The grebes, however, were diving down and returning to the surface in the same small area, and this told me that they were using a clear hole in the weed, rather than a channel.

Obviously, I needed to check, so I ran round there with my leading rod and cast straight at the grebes—I nearly hit one, as it happens! The lead went down very quickly, indicating a shallow spot, but it absolutely cracked onto the bottom! I had a few more casts and established that the hole was only four feet wide by seven feet long. I was made up. I had to get off, though, so baited it before I headed home.

I returned a few days later and dropped straight into the swim. I cast to the spot, which was big enough for just two rods—even that was a squeeze, to be fair. With that in mind, I searched for a new spot, and oh my days, there was thick weed everywhere! There was absolutely nothing for yards and yards around that one spot. Those grebes had done me a huge favour, that’s for sure. I doubt that I’d have found the spot if it wasn’t for them, and I certainly appreciated the good fortune. The weed was always going to be a problem, however, so I was using braid, which is perfect for such situations. It sits nicely over the top of it and is camouflaged too, most importantly, though, it’s super strong and very robust. 

A QUESTION OF BALANCE - It’s all about finding a happy medium with carp fishing
With the spot sorted, my decisions then revolved around terminal tackle, and how I could trick the carp. There were a few factors to consider. I leaded up with a big lead. I usually do so to really thump around the spots in an effort to expose every inch. That said, I felt that I had no choice but to drop lead sizes when actually fishing. When you start casting out big leads, you have be right on the money. The feel of the braid hitting the clip can become too forceful, and this can give you a false indication as the lead drops. It’s about finding a happy medium with sizes, taking into account the distance at which you’re fishing, and the angling scenario, as you look for the best indication when the lead thumps down. 

For my terminal set-up, I decided to go with a well-balanced hookbait on a Noodle Rig. The bait was heavier than a wafter. I didn’t want the carp fanning the bait around with their tails or their fins. It needed to remain on the bottom, given that it was so clear and gravelly. I knew I could get away with fishing on the deck and couldn’t bring myself to fish a pop-up, feeling that the latter would appear too blatant when presented clear of the surrounding weed. If a fifty-pound carp were to come across my hookbait, the last thing I wanted was for it to move as the fish approached.

Bait-wise, I went in with my go-to mix, to some extent: crushed Krill with a little hemp and tiger nuts. I didn’t go in too heavily with it, however. They weren’t really smashing the bait. There was also the resident birdlife to consider, and the smaller bits made up the main bulk of the mix.

BAIT BUSHCRAFT - Scott Lloyd’s Spring Mix

Scott’s spring mix is a pick ‘n’ mix of juicy bits to get the fish troughing. Based around the all-conquering Sticky Baits Manilla boilie—in both whole and chopped versions—this mix builds on that bait’s nuttiness and takes it up a notch. Crushed tigers and a sprinkling of brazil nuts give the carp something crunchy to chew on, while the addition of a liberal glug of Cloudy Manilla Liquid provides an attractive underwater fog to bring fish in from far and wide. 

HOW YOU DO IT
1. Take a bait bucket and add whole and crushed (food processor or a RidgeMonkey Crusher) Manilla boilies.
2. Follow this with a good glug of the Cloudy Liquid and some chopped tigers and bazil nuts.
3. The finished mix is both visual and very digestible.

OFF THE MARK! CONFIDENCE WAS SKY-HIGH - ‘It was the perfect start to the campaign…’
The night drew in and my confidence was sky-high after finding the spot. I can’t tell you how much I was buzzing—despite knowing how difficult the lake was! During darkness, I heard a few sloshing around and rolling not far away from the two rods, and just on dawn, I received my first take from a Shallow Pit carp. As you can imagine, the battle in the shallow water and amongst the weed was immense, and I was chuffed to bits when I finally scooped the fish up into the net. It was a truly awesome carp, with a lovely brownish oak look. It was the perfect start to the campaign, after I’d done things my own way, using methods I’d gained confidence in over a number of years. A take on my first night only boosted my confidence further, as you can imagine. During the session and immediately after, I began to realise that the fish were constantly on the move, and that there were always small groups of them dotted around the pit. 

EYES AND EARS: LOOKING AND LISTENING - ‘During the hours of darkness, the birds made it so easy to track the fish…
I used my spare time wisely, looking to get to the lake and stay in touch with what was going on. It was obvious where the most popular swims were, given all the footprints. Some required only a short journey with the barrow, or you could pretty much fish from the car or van. This was always going to be good for me, though, as I’d make an extra effort and look at the less popular areas. I’d find places that no one else went near. I’d lead them up and introduce little bits of bait, just in case I found some fish in the vicinity. There was always a back-up plan with my approach, and I never wanted to concentrate all my efforts on just one swim. During the hours of darkness, the birds made it so easy to track the fish, giving me a good idea of where the fish were moving. You’d hear the coots spooking when carp came close. I rarely slept because of it! They were so on edge, and every time a carp rolled near them, I’d know about it! 

Although I baited several areas, they did seem to be using the end of the Islands swim a lot. This also happened to be the furthest trip with the barrow. After numerous sightings of them using it as a patrol route, I decided that I’d spend a little more time there over the next few sessions at least. 

Having turned up during the night, straight away I heard a few fish in the zone, so pitched up for the night there. I waited until midday to get the rods out, however. During really hot spells, the carp were completely preoccupied with sunning themselves in the weed, so the warmest parts of the day allowed me to get the rods sorted with little apparent effect on the fish. Things would then be primed, ready for the evening ahead. 

The first night passed uneventfully, but the second soon came around, and it was then that I heard fish right over the top of my baits, some real lumps too. I was also getting some savage liners, the braid laying across the top of the weedbeds between the spots. I tried to combat this with fluorocarbon leaders, but there’s only so much you can do in these situations… you’re never going to get everything completely as you want it when there’s such a drop to the spot. 

Morning came, and another violent take had line ripping line from the spool. Bow waves spread across the water and it was clear from the off, that this was one big and very angry carp! It found weedbed after weedbed, the braid cutting through each as the fish powered on—I certainly would never have landed the fish had I not had braid on. Eventually, it wallowed on the surface, and at first I thought I had Colin. The big, white belly was clear to see, but after I’d stopped the fish, it turned out to be the mega-looking mirror known as Paw Print, at 38lb. One of the best things about being on a new lake is not knowing the stock. I knew of the beautiful linear in there, but had no knowledge of the back-up fish—I’m told that it’s doing mid-forties these days, which is incredible!

At this point, I did start to do a bit of digging to find out what was actually in the pit. I looked at a few in Myles’ album, and saw a fish they called Laney’s, which I believe is now fifty-plus—the water really does have a serious stock of fish! As you’ll imagine, with two thirties under my belt from just a handful of sessions, I was all guns blazing. 

The next, and final night, I heard a serious lump clatter out in front… it sounded as though a donkey had fallen from the sky and landed on my spot! It could only have been one of the real big ones, perhaps Colin, and the following morning, I had the take. The fish weeded me after stripping line. I’d felt that I had no control over whatever I was attached to. It soon ground to a halt, so I rang the bailiff to make sure I could use the on-site boat to hopefully free the fish. 

Life jacket on, I set sail towards the fish, which was wallowing on the surface, and the closer I got, the bigger it looked. I could make out its big belly and believed that it could only be one of two fish: Colin or Laney’s. I got closer still, and when I was 10 to 15yds away, it powered off again. Then it happened. It ground to a halt once more, and I pulled in the hook, along with a huge mass weed. The fish had gone, and I can’t say 100 per cent that it was one of the fish mentioned, but it certainly seemed probable after I’d had a few glimpses of it. That seemed to herald the beginning of the end of that spot. The following session brought nothing, and I didn’t see or hear anything in the area. 

ALL GOOD THINGS… NEW ADVENTURES WERE AWAITING - Time was coming to an end… but there’s always new adventures around the corner
From that point onwards, I started chasing them around as it was getting to that time of year when they were up for the feed again. It was back to baiting up areas and zones, hoping for an opportunity. My time on the pit, though, was slowly coming to an end… 

I’d put the graft in, once again, and on the session I’m about to recount, another angler was down there—I’ll not mention his name, but he’ll know who he is. I was piling in the bait in a particular area, and ended up moving in the middle of the night. I fancied a second zone where I’d been putting a fair bit of bait in, and could hear them slamming out in that area. The other angler had seen that I’d moved during the night, having noticed me packing up and leaving. Whether this spurred him into moving or not, I don’t know, but the next day I received a call and was told that he’d moved into the swim I’d vacated, and had gone on to catch Colin the following morning. 

For me, that was the final nail in the coffin for Shallow Pit, and in all honesty, I had other places on the mind. New adventures were waiting, and 2017 would turn out to be a very special year. I’ll cover a campaign that followed my time on Shallow Pit in the next issue, and trust me, it’ll be worth picking up a copy for. In the meantime, enjoy your own new adventures this spring.