Mayfield, parts 1 and 2

Part 1

I fished Mayfield lough in Claremorris earlier this year and caught a nice bag of skimmers and hybrids. With half a tub of maggots to be used up I decided to give the lough another try last Sunday morning. I had to pick up herself in Tuam around lunchtime, so Claremorris was on the road and I could put in a few hours on the water before completing the journey.

Parking up beside the playpark, I decanted some gear and walked up the path to the first stand on the west side. This was where I had fished the last time and ideally I wanted to fish from the next one along, but a pike angler was busy flinging large baits from that stand. Two rods, a 12 foot medium feeder and the 11 foot Korum float were assembled and some ground bait mixed. Bringing in the 11 footer was a mistake, I had forgotten how deep this water is and I could have used a rod a foot or two longer for comfort. The less said about the feeder the better. I failed to catch a single fish on it despite using the same bait as on the float rod. In the end I reeled it n and just fished float only.

It being a Sunday morning I thought the path around the lake would be busy, but if fact is was pretty quite and I was undisturbed for the whole session. Out of laziness I rigged the Korum rod with a loaded crystal waggler, far from the ideal choice for relatively deep water where effective shotting would have greatly enhanced both presentation and bite detection. And bite detection was the big issue for me as there was a bit of wind coming from left to right the whole morning. The wavelets made seeing bites tough, very tough indeed! Concentration was paramount as the bites (and there plenty of them) were small and delicate, the float dipping or rising only a few millimetres. Trying to figure out what was a bite and what was just the float lifting or dropping with the motion of the water really kept me on my toes.

I missed one bite, had a few more casts then connected with a skimmer of modest proportions. Next up was a hybrid, a nice solid half pounder that skittered across the top of the water as I reeled it in. Then a wee perch, and back to skimmers again. The count was ticking along nicely and time flew past as I worked the swim by feeding both balls of ground bait and loose feeding maggots. An hour or so in there was a quiet spell and I suspect this was due to me over feeding. I stopped the flow of maggots for a while and sure enough the fish came back on again. I had a very entertaining morning, but making pulling in silvers sound exciting is not possible. Those of you in know will understand, but it is hard to convey the simple pleasures of baiting a swim and watching the float intently for hours, pulling in wee silvery fish.

Some roach were mixed in with the skimmers and hybrids, all lovely fish in great condition. Everything was coming to double maggot on a size 16 barbless fished just barely touching the bottom. I had started fishing over depth but found bites improved by coming a tad off the bottom. The only challenge came not from the fish but from a pesky duck which would not leave me alone. The poor thing must have been fed by the public and thought I was going to chuck it some bread. When that didn’t happen it took to pecking my float. For the better part of two hours the mallard was never far away and how it didn’t get tangled up in my line was nothing short of a miracle. Eventually it tired of the game and swam off (thank God).

I had just packed up and was beginning to walk back to the car park when Helen phoned to say she was ready anytime, so my plan had worked out almost to perfection. The total catch was 68 fish, only one of which required the use of the landing net. It was a lovely session, relaxing and yet offering a degree of challenge due to the shy bites in windy conditions. I still had a handful of maggots left too…

Part 2

Tuesday was a funny sort of a day. I had arranged to meet my mate and we would fish lough Carra for the day. Setting off at 10.30, we arrived to find the lough flat calm. We chatted to a couple a fellas we know who were heading out, but they were in no great rush to be out on the mirror like water. Neither of us fancied out chances as not only was there no wind but the cloud cover was fast breaking up and blue skies would be the order of the day from then on. A decision was required and we both agreed there were jobs to be done at our respective homes, so we turned tail and drove back to Castlebar. I mowed the back lawn in the afternoon and carried out a few other duties, but after dinner I decided to use up the left over maggots from the other day. These were turning rapidly despite being in the fridge and I doubted if many (or indeed any) would be useful by the morning. A rod and a few other bits were chucked in the Ford and I set off for Mayfield lough once again.

In the warmth of the early evening the playpark was a riot of noise as wee kids enjoyed themselves, watched over by gossiping parents. Hopes of fishing from the either the same stand as the last day, or the next one up were soon dashed as anglers were ensconced on both pontoons already. I made do with the lower of the east bank stands, but I was not overly confident I’d catch much. A 12 foot float rod and small fixed spool filled with 6 pound mono was soon set up and I sat on the box, squinting in the sunlight at the same bloody loaded waggler that I knew was not the best option. There is little I can say n my defence regarding my poor choice of float (again), I guess I was not taking this session too seriously and the float was the first one to come to hand when setting up.

It took a few casts before the first bite arrived. If anything, the bites on Tuesday evening were even harder to spot than the ones on Sunday. The light was very harsh but more importantly the bites themselves were tiny affairs. I was missing a good few, as proved by well sucked maggots despite me seeing no movement on the float. The first fish to hand was a small skimmer, but hybrids made up the bulk of the catch. Bites were spaced out and it often took 5 or 6 casts to get one bite. I had fed the swim with ground bait and was feeding as normal from the rapidly dwindling contents of the maggot box. Upon hitting one bite the feisty hybrid shook itself off the hook. That happens, and I didn’t think too much about it. A second hybrid performed the same trick a few casts later, so I reeled in and checked the hook. it appeared to be just fine. Out went the next few cast, the float dipped ever so slightly and I lifted into a skimmer, which fell off just as I was going to swing it in. A fourth fish did the same and with that I stopped to change the hook. I looked hard at the offending hook before cutting it off and I still thought it looked OK, but off it came and I knotted on another size 16, but this time an eyed pattern and of very slightly heavier gauge wire. A perch swallowed the hook after a few cast (proving nothing), but two hybrids in quick succession stuck on the new hook. Maybe there was a very small issue with the hook but if it was I could not see it.

Things went a bit quiet but looking around I could see the odd fish topping off to my left. With no rudd in this lough I presumed these were roach, and so shortening my float depth to only 18 inches I cast close to where I had seen the surface activity. Nothing for a few chucks, then the float slid away and I pulled in a perch. OK, so had I been seeing perch chasing fry? That was highly possible but I decided to try a few more casts. Another short wait them a good bite, but this time it was a lovely hybrid. That knocked the fry feeding perch theory out of the window. More casts, then I caught a skimmer! Repeating the shallow depth feat a couple more times, I then decided I wanted to see if there were any fish still on the bottom, and adjusted the float accordingly. Yep, I got a few more skimmers and hybrids from the bottom before packing up as the sun dipped below the horizon. Total catch for two and a half hours was 10 hybrids, 6 skimmer and 6 perch, none of which required me wetting my net.

I walked back along the gravel path, deep in thought about the session. I still need to research about fish rising to the surface in the evenings. Maybe they do that more often? A pair of joggers passed me out, sweating and trying to hold a conversation through deep, rasping breaths. A middle aged lady with two sodden, filthy spaniels on leads hurried by, and I thought ‘I hope those dogs are going to get a bath before you let them in the house’. Teenagers huddled under the disused railway bridge, cans and fags in hand. The lord be praised those painfully shy, awkward days of early teenage are long, long behind me! I drove home counting my blessings, and trying to blot out the reality of the need to mow the front lawn in the morning.