My plans to fish a new lake to me over in Leitrim on Saturday turned to dust when an old affliction flared up. I don’t want this blog to turn into a pity party for me, suffice to say I was sore and grumpy. So I passed on the long drive and hard day’s fishing, hung around the house all day and did a few light jobs which I had been putting off, then retired for a night of broken sleep. Sunday morning saw me waken early and much feeling improved, if still not 100% fit. Perhaps I could chance a short session close to home?
On the outskirts of Castlebar lie a number of small lakes. These are not your hill loughs of acidic water and tiny brown trout. No, these are set in well tended farmland, are reed fringed and home to small populations of roach, perch and pike. In general, I drive past them and head off for much more productive waters, but today I decided to give one of them, Lough Cloonagh, a try. My reasoning was simple, a near total lack of bait. Unable to drive all the way to Carrick-on-Shannon yesterday, all I could muster was a dozen or so half dead maggots, some casters and a few tired looking worms. Far from ideal, but it would have to do.
I dropped Helen off at mass and drove through the near deserted town centre then on to the Claremorris road. Turning off down a narrow by byroad, I crossed the railway track then pulled into the handy layby. Grabbing my gear, it was an easy scramble through a gap in the trees and down a slippery bank to the edge of the water and the spot where lots of anglers fish from. I would hazard a guess that many of them are chasing pike as they are a popular eating fish in some sections of the community in town. I might actually do a bit of piking myself next month for a change, but for today I would settle for a fat roach or two.
The feeder rod baited with a juicy worm was cast off to my right, then I set up the 13 foot float rod with a large waggler, shotted it with 4BB and plumbed the depth. I recalled from the last time I fished this spot that there was a definite drop off and sure enough, at about three rod lengths out the bottom fell away to roughly 12 feet. Also from my last visit I remembered the wind was a nightmare, making basic casting and float spotting extremely difficult. I had hoped that there would be less wind today, and sure enough there was less, but it was still troublesome. Blowing from right to left, it hampered every cast and created wavelets which turned bite detection into a black art.
Poking about in the near empty bait box I selected a single white maggot and impaled it on my size 16 barbless, then cast it out to where I had found the drop off. A few casts in and I thought the float dipped ever so slightly, but I wasn’t sure. Winding in I found a bare hook, so I re-baited and cast out again, only for the same thing to happen. I missed a grand total of four bites before I wound in and rearranged my shotting pattern so I had bulk shot a foot from the hook. This worked a bit better and I reeled in a couple of very modest roach over the coming hour or so. Hardly scintillating angling I’ll grant you, but this session was all about me just getting out in the fresh air and any fish would be an unlooked for bonus. As you can see below, the roach were none too happy at being caught.
I was finding it easier to cast the distance required if I stood up and waded a couple of yards out in the ankle deep margin. The recent drop in temperature has caused the lilies to start dying back, their mouldy leaves littering the edge of the lake. A heron flapped slowly overhead under a steel grey sky and the thick bushes around me were silent. It felt like autumn all right. That feeder rod never registered so much as a single tap for the whole session, a bit of a disappointment as I had a vague hope there might be a tench or two in this lake. If there is, they were not in the least interested in my worms today.
All this time I was back to missing bites on the waggler. I’d cast out, the float would bob about inconclusively and then I would reel in to find the maggot had been sucked of the hook. This didn’t happen every cast, but often enough for me to think about how I was going to turn unseen offers into fish on the bank. First I went to double maggot, but in the end, I crowded 4 maggots on to the little size 16. Three were alive (well, sort of) and the last one was dead. Would the corpse act as some sort of gruesome stop and reduce the number of times the fish would nick the bait? Amazingly, this rouse worked! Over the next handful of casts I hooked and landed five roach of very modest proportions. The float slid under again and I lifted into something much more substantial, the thirteen footer displaying a fine bend as the fish made a dash to my right before thrashing ton the top of the water. Reaching out with the net, I slid the fish along the surface only for it to throw the hook no more than a foot from the meshes. Well over the pound was my estimate for that lucky roach, an excellent fish for these parts. It was no great loss not to land it, but it would have been nice to take a photo to show you guys.
I manged to tangle my line when casting a few minutes later and lacked the mental energy to unravel the nylon. Calling it a day, I packed up and drove the gratifyingly short distance home where a steaming mug of coffee restored a bit of life in these old bones. Helen was surprised to see me home, normally my coarse fishing take place at least 90 minutes drive from town.
Now it was time to think about the short session on that wee lough by the railway to Dublin. A total of 7 small roach is not going to set the heather on fire, but in all honesty it was much more than I had anticipated. The lough is deep and rich. In addition to the roach I had seen numerous tiny rudd topping all around me, raising the possibility there were better rudd in there too. Then there was that big roach which slipped the hook at the last second, a fish well above what I had expected to see there. All in all, there was enough action and possibilities for me to give Cloonagh more attention. It will never be a top venue, but its location and head of silvers makes it an attractive spot for those days when I don’t feel like driving a long way or when, just like today, there are a few half dead maggots in the fridge to be used up.
If I am better on Monday I’ll brave the windy weather which is forecast and head for Leitrim.
Claretbumbler 