Venue Club gravel pit, Essex
The fish Heart Tail, an A-Team original common, 48lb 6oz
Bait Butter Crunch Eruption Mix solid bags, Cherry Bakewell hookbaits
On a busy club water in the Essex countryside lies a lovely, picturesque gravel pit, home to some of the best commons I have caught. I’d had the ticket for a few years before even casting a rod on this particular lake. I’d been on plenty of recces, and after seeing the crowds of anglers swarming the banks when the season opens in May, I decided to bide my time and fish it in winter.
Summer was busy anyway, rolling bait most days and only getting the odd quick overnighter in. I think I did about eight nights through the whole summer. They were all about turning up as the light faded, getting the rods out with minimal disturbance, getting my head down, then up again early to get back to the factory for more bait rolling. I quickly accepted that this was more of a winter water, and that winter would suit targeting one of the 40s from this busy lake.
In those eight or so nights I barely met or spoke to the other anglers, apart from bumping into them in the car park, thanks to the late arrivals and early pack-downs. I had a couple of mid-double commons and a few low 20s, but nothing like one of the special old big commons I wanted in my photo album. I gave it May to August with little recce trips, then knocked it on the head.
If I was going to trick one of the old mega commons into the net, I had to put in daylight hours and find the spots and areas I believed they would feed on. It was a funny summer on there and not much happened, but I suppose this is a good time to say it turned into a winter campaign. It would be a terrible story otherwise.
Autumn
As summer turned to autumn and October neared, I was keen as mustard, tying rigs and running ideas over and over in my head about how to tackle the campaign. You know how it is: you get down to the lake and think, yeah, I’ll have a couple out this month. Oh, how wrong I was.
On the first session I aimed for the deep-water pegs and packed my barrow, almost running around the lake with it, I was that buzzing to officially start. I soon found a deep silty area, the nice firm silt where you’d expect carp to be rooting around. Two single chods went out: a Cherry Bakewell pink on one rod and a White Cheese & Garlic on the other.
As night drew in I was expecting a run. Carp were showing over me all night, so many that I genuinely couldn’t sleep. I eventually drifted off in the early hours, only for a couple of bleeps on the left-hand rod to wake me. The Bakewell rod was away. The fish took line immediately and felt decent, staying deep and slowly ticking mono off the clutch. I don’t think it was on for more than 30 seconds before PING, I was cut off. Absolutely gutted to lose one that felt like a good fish.
Not what you want on your first session back, but I was glad the Bakewells were working their magic. They’ve always done me well in every season, so I knew they’d play a key part in this campaign. A couple of anglers told me there was a big, sharp gravel bar running along the deep corner. Valuable information. The mono spools were packed away and braid went on.
I returned to the same spot for the next couple of sessions, doing 48-hour stints, but it died a death. No shows, no bites, no liners. The carp had clearly done the off. By late November I hadn’t had a single fish. Talking to other anglers, it had been a terrible month all round, with only the odd carp showing and none of the named ones out.
December
I started December in the deep end again, but favoured a different corner, away from where I’d lost the early fish. A south-westerly was forecast, with low pressure and temperatures up to 12°C. Bang on. Wind direction played a massive part in this mission from here on.
As luck would have it, an angler was just finishing his session as I arrived (there’s a 48-hour limit on the lake, which I like as it keeps things fair). I jumped straight in, had a quick walk around, but knew in my mind I was staying put.
It was warm enough to walk around in trousers and a T-shirt. I switched from single chods to solid bags, which proved crucial. I dropped a Butter Crunch Eruption Mix solid bag down a deep channel, paired with a trimmed-down Bakewell hookbait, fished KD-style on a size 6 ESP Clawhammer, always my favourite hook pattern. They’re like a wide gape, with a beaked point, and ridiculously sharp.
The bite came the next morning out of the blue: a couple of bleeps, then a drop-back. I struck and the fish powered off towards a bay to my right. With braid ticking off a tight clutch and an overhanging tree making things awkward, I kicked my trainers off and waded in up to my knees. That gave me just enough room to guide it past the branches.
As I stretched the net out, the carp twisted and turned. My first winter 30lb common was in the net, Cherry Bakewell and Butter Crunch doing the business. A few quick self-takes and she was slipped back, as I felt there was more to be had.
A week later I returned to the same corner and banked another at 22lb. After that the spot died completely again, so it was time to rethink.
January
Some research on YouTube and Google turned up valuable information: January was the month. The big girl had a habit of showing herself then, and the previous year she’d topped 50lb. No wonder the banks were busy, even in winter. Familiar faces, regular updates, and talk of which of the five special 40s had been out.
After a brief freeze following New Year, I was back down. New spot, same solid bags. I found a mega-smooth silty zone to the right and a firmer gravel spot to the left. At 1.30am a couple of bleeps woke me on a bitterly cold night, so cold I was sleeping in a thermal woolly hat, essential for a baldy like me.
A fairly tame fight followed, and within minutes a classic dark winter common lay in the net at just over 27lb. A welcome bite, but things went quiet again for a few sessions, apart from the odd liner.
The Night
A cold south-easterly arrived, and after a walk around the lake I decided to fish just off the back of the wind, tucked into a sheltered swim with tree cover. Something in my gut told me to stay put. Both rods went into silt: a solid bag and Bakewell on one, and a new fishmeal single on the other (that fishmeal is coming out in spring).
That night felt special. Rumours of a special common being caught days before had lifted everyone’s spirits. I nodded off around 11.30pm. What felt like seconds later, the right-hand rod was away.
As I approached, the left rod tightened and started slowly bending round. I picked it up, convinced I’d lost it, until a twitch in the braid and then absolute meltdown. The fish powered along the margin, staying deep. A proper battle.
Eventually she was mine. One look in the net and I said to myself, “That’s a 40, easy.” The wide back, the massive frame. The scales settled at 48lb 6oz. Mission complete.
I woke another angler a few pegs up for photos. A top bloke, happy to help, who reminded me this was a moment to savour. After photos and recovery, she was sent back home: Heart Tail, one of the A-Team, ticked off the list of these special commons.
After all that chaos I didn’t expect another, but the right-hand rod was away again. A mid-30 common followed to cap off an unforgettable brace.
A mega experience, and the journey continues as I chase another of those big, old, dark commons through the winter months.
