Savilles Lake

Look Over Gordons Left Shoulder, you will see the back of B and Q on Southampton Road, that was the site of Savilles Lake that was.

Fishing Savilles Lake

This small lake just outside Salisbury held some really specimen fish. They were hard to catch because most of the time the water was almost gin clear, especially in the summer months. The small stream (River Bourne, name derived from the village in which it becomes a river – Winterbourne – the river was at its fullest in Winter) which fed the lake became almost a trickle because of the dry summer weather and this caused the lake to become gin clear.

Only in the late Autumn and Winter periods did it become easier to fish as you could not see the bottom and the water took on a cloudier more tinged appearance. When the weather became much wetter and you had almost flood conditions the increased flow from the stream caused much higher levels in the lake.

Large shoals of specimen fish would seek shelter from the raging torrents in the main river and swim into the lake. When this happened you could have real “red letter” days and land good bags of chub and dace, with the odd two pound plus roach, without too much effort.

I remember one summer when fishing with a mate called John Stephenson; I fished the lake early in the morning. With the main Southampton road only about twenty yards on our right, the traffic during the daytime was busy and the noise from the large lorries was thunderous as they charged by.

By coming really early we cut out that melee of noise and it was much nicer conditions in which to wet a line. The water however was gin clear and you could see almost every stone on the bottom. There was a slight flow of the water right to left.

To fish the spot where the little stream entered the lake you had to fish from a bank which was lined by overhanging trees and bushes. If you tried to fish from the other side the fish would spot you immediately and they would drop down into the deeper water and underneath the nearside bank which had been carved underneath by flood conditions in the winter. Coaxing them out of their hidey holes was almost impossible if they had been disturbed.

As I have said our bank was lined with overhanging branches which shaded the fish and they obviously felt safe there. To be able to present a moving bait to the fish you had to very slowly climb one of the trees and crawl out onto an overhanging branch. Your mate would then pass your rod and bait up to you. You had to grip your legs round the branch and hold on to allow yourself both hands free to perform your flicked cast to the water below.

Before this all happened we had to climb a number of trees to be able to spot where the fish were below. We would then toss a coin and the winner would position themselves on a branch just upstream from the sited target fish.

On this particular occasion we had sighted three massive roach. We guessed their weight at between two and three pounds. To say we were excited at the prospect of a chance to catch one of them would be an understatement. Unfortunately fate was not kind to me as John won the toss, but it was still really exciting to be able to climb up beside him and have the best seat in the house as it were to watch the proceedings.

It must be said that even though he might hook one of the fish, he would have great difficulty in landing it as the length of the landing net would not stretch down to the surface of the water. I suppose thinking back on it a drop net of some kind might have been the answer but we didn’t have anything like that in those days for coarse fishing.

We knew that if John managed to hook a fish we would have to play the fish out until it was sufficiently tired to be calm enough for us to handline and lift it up into the tree. Before John actually casting his baited hook, it was my job the throw some freebies just upstream of the fish and to see if they were partial to a nice bit of bread flake.

Squeezing it enough so it would sink slowly I threw one or two pieces into the swim. As luck would have it they began feeding and they seemed to pick up the free offerings as they bounced along the bottom. John finally decided to cast his float into the swim and we watched his bait drop through the water and it came to rest on the bottom. The fish took no notice of the bait and ignored it completely. Either they could see the line or some part of the hook. We didn’t know.

One thing was certain, we would have to have a rethink regarding the situation. John very slowly withdrew his bait from the water and we threw a few more offerings in until we saw they were taking them freely.

Thinking about what may have gone wrong we discussed the situation. The fish never came up in the water and always took the bread as it tripped the bottom. The pieces of bread we used completely covered the hook so neither of these things could have spooked the fish enough for them to ignore the bait. This left the thickness of the line which might have caused the problem. On the other hand, if we were to have any chance of actually landing our fish we could not compromise on breaking strain of line or having to go to a smaller hook size.

While throwing in free offerings I noticed that if the bait floated past the fish without tripping the bottom they ignored it and let it pass by. We noticed that the pieces were then being taken by a shoal of dace which were bringing up the rear as it were. We finally worked it out that you had to get the weight of the bait just right. If you squeezed the bread to much it would sink to the bottom and stay there. If you did not squeeze it enough it would flow by the fish without tripping the bottom and again would be ignored. The very slow flow of the water was actually the cause of the problem. If it had been just a fraction faster we wouldn't have had it. The fact that we could see all that was happening from our perches on high made us aware of what was going on. In any other situation the angler would be blissfully unaware of why he was catching dace and not roach.

I thought I had got the squeezing pressure just right and John flicked the bread into the swim. It seemed to be tripping the bottom like a “good un”, as it approached the roach. One of the small shoal lazily drifted over to the piece of bread and we saw it mouth it. In that split second the float dipped, John struck and the roach blew the bread out. John swore, the roach dropped back and we thought we had blown our chances.

 We climbed down from the branch and left the swim for about half an hour. Every now and again we threw a few free offerings into the swim, hoping that somehow the fish had not vanished into the lake. As neither of us had ever caught a two pound plus roach before we thought at that moment we were destined never to do so.

After what seemed like an age, we crept back to the swim and slowly climbed the tree again. Our hearts were within our mouths as we peered down into the water below. Lo and behold the fish had returned and we held our breath while we moved into position again. Just before we made this our second attempt, John had begged me to allow him to have another try. Reluctantly I had agreed with his request. Having seen the hurt in his eyes at losing his chance, I couldn't live with myself if I refused him his second chance.

He flicked out the bread and we watched as it floated down to where the fish were. The smallest of the roach, still at least a two pounder, moved towards the hook bait. Just as the fish was about to take the bait the biggest roach suddenly lurched forward and grabbed the bread. A second later all hell broke loose as John struck sideways and I grabbed his arm just in time to stop him falling off his perch.

Picture the peculiar situation, with John hanging on to the branch by gripping his legs only, both his hands wrestling the rod and reeling the fish, this way and that. I was hanging on to John with one hand and holding on to my branch with my other arm and my legs. It was pandemonium.

 I was cracking up just watching John’s plight and expecting to see him fall into the lake at any moment. More by luck than judgement he managed to bring the fish under control after two or three lunges into the depths by the roach. At last the roach was wallowing on the surface. It was massive and looked all of three pounds. It took my breath away when I saw it.

Now we had another set of problems to contend with. In order for John to be able to hand line it up, he had to pass the rod to me and get hold of the line above the tip of it. I had to pay out line so I could put the rod down on to the floor. This we seemed to manage somehow and then I prepared to take hold of the fish when John had pulled it up very slowly in case the fish wriggled and dropped off. The fish did wriggle a bit as he started to haul it upwards but it stayed attached to his hook. The fish got closer and closer to my waiting hands until it was about a foot away. At that moment it flipped and like a slow motion movie it just dropped back down into the water, as smooth as you like. It hardly made a splash and disaster, it had gone.

We just looked at each other in dismay. After a while we climbed down. John was almost in tears. He finally blew his top and threw his rod into the bushes in a show of temper. We went back the next day but the roach were not to be seen. The next two weeks were very dry and with the lake levels dropping we think that the roach swam back out into the river.

My friends and I continued to catch some big bags of chub, dace and bream during the winter in times of flood, as huge shoals entered Savilles Lake for shelter from the high River Avon. It would be many, many years, however, before I would actually catch a roach over that magic two pound mark.

Ten years after my big roach adventure Saville’s Lake was subject to a compulsory purchase order and ended up being filled in. It is now a concrete car park for a well known B and Q supermarket. What a waste and a disaster for angling and anglers in general. At the time I remember being very angry having just my memories left and how easy it was for the angling fraternity to have such a lovely amenity snatched away from them by faceless council officers and greedy companies.