A friend pointed out that it was exactly a year ago that Rob, the two Geoffs and I fished Bewl for pike. We didn't do badly then, but things were to get better this year.

It all started off on Friday evening. My company had an early Christmas party and we were allowed to invite our partners. Louise wasn't really interested, so I decided I might as well invite someone I could have a good chin-wag with. I don't know any fishing gals, so that left the chaps to choose from.

No problem. Rob and I had arranged this fishing trip some time ago and it seemed a good opportunity to meet up and plan our tactics.

On another day we might have been distracted by the lovelies in their black slinky numbers, but this was serious business. All right, we did stuff ourselves on the food, and indulge more than your maiden aunt on her birthday, but that merely helped to concentrate our minds. By the end of the evening we had worked out our plan of action. It was simply brilliant.

What the hell it was I don't know, apart from the fact that we were going to go straight for the far end of the reservoir. The rest of our strategy vaporised with the last brandy and in the end, it didn't matter.

It was pretty cold on the water at 9.30am, but not freezing. At first, it was OK to forget about mittens, hat or zipping up the coat.

We made our way the 3.22km (2 miles) to the Rosemary Lane end, slowly trolling along the margins.

The water level was about 3 metres (10ft) lower than when I last fished here in July. Some of the smaller bays simply disappeared or became tiny creeks.

About 300 metres from the end, Rob caught a jack pike just over 2kg (4lb) on a Minnow lure about 125cm (5") long. I tried a jointed minnow and then a Yo-Zuri diving plug with no success. When we reached Rosemary Lane there was another boat in the area, but we had room to drift and spin. I also tried out a dead mackerel bait on a float. By this time, I had changed to a silver/bronze Professor spoon. Around 11.30am, I finally connected with a small jack-pike. These small pike fight really well in Bewl and even on heavy tackle, make their presence known.

I wanted to try Tinkers Marsh, a lovely bay which held some brown trout on an earlier trip, but it had gone, apart from a deep and narrow creek through the middle. We had to carry on drifting along the shoreline, casting to new spots as we moved over them. After a number of follows, a pike of about 2.6kg (5lb) grabbed my spoon just after I had lifted it out of the water. Before I had time to release the drag or flick open the bale arm, it shook it's head violently half out of the water and managed to free itself. It's the first time I have ever seen a fish take a lure above the surface.

After catching and losing another pike, Rob wanted to know what I was fishing with. It was a Professor spoon and I had another similar spoon, a bronze Doctor which I lent to him. Very soon, he was catching more pike. After over an hour, the dead-bait produced nothing, so we abandoned that idea and concentrated on lures.

Throughout this time, large flocks of mallard and pochard and tufted duck flew over us in powerful flight. Quite a sight in the pale, watery sky.

Rob's fish-finder registered a bleep for every fish it found and sometimes it went non-stop. That bottom end was definitely a hot-spot. We noticed a pattern where it bleeped whenever the spoon got close to the boat. Fish were following the lures in on many casts. The chances of catching are highest when you first cast to an area, so it is best to move about.

Our next tactic was to troll for a while. We hadn't gone 100 metres, when I got a take. This time it was a trout of about 1kg. It was a long torpedo shaped silver beauty. After that we got one fish after another, including another trout.

Soon after, the bailiffs boat turned up and headed our way, picking up the pike and topping up our fuel. If you troll about all day, you will run out before the day's end.

With the extra fuel on board, we elected to continue trolling up the long Bewl Straight. With little response there, we opened up the throttle and made for Hook Point. Starting from Seven Pound Creek, we followed the shoreline about 30 metres out. Just past the fish cages I had another trout. This time a plump 1.17 kg (2lb 6oz) fish. Strangely, the trout all came along without a fight, until they were in the boat. I had to wait a minute for this one to stop shaking it's head and thrashing around to remove the hook. There was a fair chance of me being impaled on it.

A little further on Rob got his last pike and on cue, the bailiff was able to take it off our hands to be sold on to a pike fishery.

Rob with one of his pike, around 2.25 kilos (5lb).

At the end of the straight I thought I'd caught the bottom. I had the drag on the reel set to let out line in case of such an eventuality, but line was still going out after we had stopped. I started reeling in, but barely made up any line for a while. Eventually I tightened the drag and pumped the rod to bring the fish back. About 1.22 metres (4ft) below the boat, the weight suddenly disappeared and the spoon shot several feet into the air. Neither of us saw what it was, which was so aggravating. I would like at least to have seen what put up such a good fight. It stayed deep and had to be manhandled to the boat. To lose it so close to was a sickener, but that element of mystery just adds to the allure of fishing

We trolled slowly back to the fishing lodge, with a gorgeous sunset to the west, watching as a Cessna pilot flew his plane 50 metres above us, along the length of Hook Straight.