Nethergong

Sturgeon Moon

Now here’s something I never knew. By tradition the August full moon is known among other names as the Sturgeon moon, because of the giant Sturgeon fish that's readily caught in the Great Lakes region of Canada during late summer.

Well I'm not in pursuit of monster sturgeon but wetting a line for small carp in a tiny campsite lake. 

It’s a family thing, every year we have a family camping holiday at a campsite not twenty minutes from where I live.

This wonderfully picturesque piece of Kent countryside is called “Nethergong”. A family run site owned by my old school friend Jed and his wife Christine. 

Back in the early 90's Jed's father planted 3000 English broad-leaved trees on this magnificent 26-acre haven. Jed then dug out a small lake and stocked it with carp. The oak, ash, willow, elm and beech trees are their pride and joy, and at 25 years old are now coming to maturity.

They have created a beautiful setting in The Garden of England.

Every year during the third week in August my wife Shelley and I, together with my son Jake, daughter Fleur, son-in-law Del and grandchildren Megan and Jenson cram everything we need for our weeklong adventure into two cars and set off for our late summer hiatus.

 The thing I treasure most, apart from spending precious time with my family is that it’s the only time during the entire eleven and three quarter months that the other male members of my tribe want to go fishing, and fish we do, everyday. 

After the 3 tents and the and various camping paraphernalia have been set up everyone wants to go for a walk around the lake before lunch and our regular Sunday afternoon game of cricket.

During the evening various rods are set up and readied for tomorrows fishing.

I set my alarm for 5a.m. so I can be at the waters edge for first light at 5.30. 

I needn't have bothered, as bang on 4.30 a Tawny owl woke me with his continues hooting. I have to say it’s a much more agreeable way to be woken than the shrill sound of my iPhone. 

When I hear the owl's early morning call I'm always reminded of the story I was told as a child. “The skylark was always very fond of his bed and always overslept, he just didn’t want to get up in the morning. Al the other birds complained as the Lark was supposed to wake all the others  ready for the start of the dawn chorus. The owl came up with the suggestion of waking the Lark up as he was on his way home to bed. The skylark never overslept again”.

I quickly dressed and grabbed my gear and headed off on the short walk to the lake, leaving the entire campsite to their blissful slumbers.

I chose a swim where I knew that the sun would rise in all its glory to herald the start of a new a beautiful day right in front of me, this is all about enjoyment pure and simple.

Two Dendrobaena’s pinched in half and mounted on a size 8 hook, and with a light under arm flick of the rod the worms are sent to the edge of a reed bed. 

A few retrieve clicks on the centrepin to cock the float and I was fishing by five. 

A bat came and circled around my head to say “Good Morning”, or maybe he was just looking for a few last morsels before heading home.

As the sun began its appearance above the horizon a buzzard skirted the tree line and began its rise into the clear blue sky, shortly to be harassed by three overly aggressive crows. A pair of swallows popped down for a drink and as I was watching them skim the surface I noticed my float disappear and the first three-pound carp of the day was on his way to the edge of my landing net.

Shortly after six o'clock the sounds of the campsite waking mingled with the dawn chorus, pots and pans clanging in washing up bowls, flip-flops flapping, heading towards the shower block. 

My grandson Jenson appeared bleary-eyed dragging his camp chair behind him. I waited for him to wake properly before setting a small float rod up for him. He's not a fan of using any live object as hook bait so it was sweet corn for him.

One by one the rest of the family began to arrive at the waters edge bearing offerings of tea and bacon sandwiches.

Jenson was soon into his first fish of the day, a little common carp of about half a pound, which please him and his mum immensely.

All the boy’s caught fish for most of the day while the girls kept the ducks busy, feeding them with my supply of dog mixers.

Every day at around 5 o’clock a flock of some 30 odd swallows would descend on the lake to drink their fill after a busy day on the wing. We would all just sit and watch this incredible aeronautical spectacle. After they had departed that was our call to also depart and leave the fish in peace. While I sat writing up my journal of the days events I would pause in thought and then just listen to the sounds around me, children laughter, birds singing, kettles boiling, mothers calling families to hurry for dinner.

And so we carried on like this for the next six days, fishing, long walks in the surrounding countryside, climbing trees and playing games, crowding around the campfire at night telling stories and tall tales.

 These are the best days, these are halcyon days.