Barbeques, Bonfires and Bream (... and tench, crucians and golden orfe) - CA camp 2017 day one.

They say that in the often strange world of church you only have to do something twice for it to become a "tradition" that will ere long be thought to have been "ever thus" and must thereafter be forever perpetuated and always strictly adhered to "world without end, Amen" ........ the Christian Anglers weekend retreat, now in its second year, can therefore now be considered a "tradition", and an extremely good one, at that.
As tradition now dictates (it being year two), the weekend began, once anglers had arrived from Leicester, Yorkshire, Cambridgeshire and Hertfordshire, with a hearty pub meal following the setting up of tents and camp. Once again, the food and company didn't disappoint, and as darkness drew in and the anglers settled into their sleeping bags there was much excitement and anticipation at the thought of the weekend's activities, and the following day's fishing.

A rainy night was followed by a dry morning and a breakfast, cooked in camp, of bacon butties. Breakfast was followed by a brief "thought for the day" and prayers before we piled into cars and drove to Homeclose Fishery, the site of our first fishing session of the weekend. We had booked exclusive use of the small 1 acre Ash Lake, a beautifully kept lake with a stock of orfe (mostly golden, with a few of the blue variety thrown in for good measure), tench, bream and lovely, chubby, and most importantly thoroughbred,  little crucians.

The weather was mostly benign with just the occasional fleeting shower, the atmosphere and camaraderie relentlessly cheerful, and soon floats were dipping and fish being caught. I had elected to give a first outing to a recently acquired, yet venerably aged, split cane float rod, an Aspindale Thamesdale that had been lovingly refurbished by my Facebook friend and traditional angling aficionado Michael Bartholomew. In keeping with my preference for vintage angling, I matched the noble rod with an equally worthy Mitchell Cap 304 reel, and soon my light dart float, dotted down by just five number 4 shot was flicked just inches from an enticing looking pad of lilies. It wasn't too long before the float was dipping, and I was drawing in my first fish, a skimmer of about half a pound. The fishing, for me, was steady but not frantic, and in time the skimmers thankfully gave way to tench, and four tincas put a pleasing bend in the rod, and although only fish of between about a pound to perhaps two pounds, their fight transmitted that lovely thumping sensation through the cane and led to one or two heart stopping moments as the fish strove to find sanctuary in the reeds.

 

 

Around the lake everyone was catching, including Ben and Luke, aged ten and nine respectively, (Luke is seen here returning a tench) and Roy and Mick (whose ages remain a closely guarded secret, but whose day tickets and bus passes bear the legend "concession") had firmly established themselves as the pace setters, each quickly finding themselves in a regular rhythm of fish captured. Mick's predominant species captured were the crucians for which the lake is well known, while Roy's bag, although mixed, lent heavily in a bream-ward direction.

In addition to the bream and tench, golden orfe of various sizes but uniform beauty were also finding their way onto hooks, and into landing nets, typical examples being the ones cradled for the camera  here by Roger and Roy.

As well as orfe of the golden variety (Paul was the "orfe master" of the lake, landing nine of them), a couple of blue orfe were landed, the best one falling to Andy's pole fished maggot.

With Greg absent this year, Roger had assumed the role of photographer, and soon he was being presumed upon with shouts of "Rog, over here" or "Roger, can you take a picture of this" echoing around the otherwise peaceful lake. One of the lake's owners brought Magnum ice lollies (other brands of ice lollies exist ... blah, blah, blah) round for the junior anglers in the party (Mick's protestations that he was "wearing short trousers and therefore qualified" were quite properly ignored by the good lady), and by half past three when we began packing up, everyone had enjoyed a good  day at an extremely pleasant and well run fishery and no-one had blanked. Peaceful contemplation punctuated by bursts of activity, and a strong sense of camaraderie had been the order of a very pleasant day.

Back at camp, and once tackle had been sorted, and teas and coffees brewed, we settled into two groups for Bible studies led by Andy and Carl, based on John's Gospel and Chapter 21, which it may not surprise you to discover is an account of Jesus and his disciples and a rather more spectacular catch of fish than any of us had enjoyed earlier in the day. Discussion flowed, faith was strengthened and insights shared, before we revisited another favourite ritual from the previous year: the barbeque. Unfortunately, our normal head chef and "Master of the Barbeque", Pete (a founding member and Christian Anglers stalwart) was unable to be with us this year, as his young son Jacob (another regular on our outings) was in hospital, so burger and banger responsibilities were delegated to Andy, who rose to the task with aplomb.

The evening ended with a bonfire, flames licking skywards as we sat in the fields and contemplated the natural beauty of the East Leicestershire countryside. Fishing, food and friendship with God's handiwork in creation providing the backdrop, and to top it all, as we retired to our tents for the night, we knew that the next day would also be spent in piscatorial activity- does it really get any better?