AS MANY OF you know, I’ve always worked hard at my carp fishing, always researching and always putting in the hours. But it had finally got to the point where the square peg just wasn’t gonna fit the round hole anymore. I’d been fishing waters that barely held 20’s but offered a desperately required apprenticeship. These waters had served me well and allowed me to experiment with techniques and baits that bigger venues couldn’t, due to size and fewer carp. These waters allowed me to follow instincts and generally ship-shape my approach and make ready for the next step, which was to go in search of waters that held my long awaited 20!
Surfed the Web I had a long hard search around the web to find a suitable fishery that held my desired twenty and that wouldn’t kill my budget on joining. After a couple of weeks of looking, I finally found home, a club called www.lintonangling.co.uk and more importantly a friendly face and seriously informative honorary secretary in Mr. Chris Knowler. I joined, checked out their waters and planned my first trip to a lake called Manor Farm. My homework had told me that it held high 20’s and my advice led me to look at the margins as a starter for ten. I managed to get (another) twenty-four hour pass from the war office and I was away. I set up with two rods fishing alongside the reeded margins. Pre-baited, all tactics ready to roll and then sat back and waited….and waited…..and waited….. Nothing! A change of tactics and again nothing. I continued to work through everything I’d picked up along the way, fishing on the bottom, fishing mid-range, surface, you name it, I tried it and still nothing. Woken by a severe tapping…… Eventually I nodded off, but was awoken by severe tapping to the left of me, which turned out to be the reeds knocking at each other at the stems. On closer inspection, and as large as life, there must have been six carp no further than 10ft out and 20ft to the left of me all playing around and aggressively sieving through the reed stems. Typical, I’m fishing my nuts off in open water with no joy and the carp are right in the middle of a 30ft by 30ft mass of reeds. This went on for some ten hours, when eventually I had to do something about it. On the edge of the bank were masses of willows with thick branches stemming into the water creating a ‘NO-GO’ area for stalking. Back to the bed chair and on with the thinking cap. After about an hour I revisited the spot with just a rod, reel and hook with a pop-up boilie. After a five minute negotiation with Mr Willow Tree, I’d managed to get my stealth-like 18 stone physique squashed through an opening and slowly fed the rod out in front of me. Of course, by the time I’d got into any kind of suitable position, the fish had moved on 2yds. This went on for about half an hour until I eventually managed to poke my carcass through a gap and make ready with my presentation. I slowly lowered my bait on top of the back of a mirror, which then bounced up and down on its shoulders and surprisingly enough never spooked her. As the fish moved round, the bait slid off and poised itself perfectly. All I wanted now was my fish to spin around and be faced with dinner! Time seems to stand still Now I don’t know if you’ve ever stalked fish, but this was my first encounter and believe me there is nothing as exciting as looking directly at your prey and following its every move. Time seems to stand still, it’s sheer heaven in every sense of the term. Sure enough, my mirror slowly turned and sniffed my boilie, then with two shakes, slurped at the surface and was gone again, but with my boilie and hook securely fastened in a lock tight position. Rik will vouch for me here, but for an eighteen stone guy, I’m like a coiled spring always ready and waiting to pounce, I can cover ground in record time and this was to be no exception. Within seconds I’d weaved through the willows and crossed hands numerous times in order to get back to safe ground in which to play my catch. Unfortunately the further I travelled, the deeper my new mate was determined to get involved with the reed stems. After five minutes I could still feel the fish on the end, but was well and truly caught. There was no alternative than to put the safety of the fish first and with that, stripped down to me pants (nice thought huh?). I’m talking freezing conditions with mud squelching in and out of places you just don’t want to know about. Eventually I waded out to the desired spot with floating unhooking mat in tow. Pulled her free and waded back to the bank with my new friend safely wrapped up.
At last, my first 20! The week following lasted what seemed like a year, but once again, on Thursday afternoon the following week, I was back at my venue and totally prepared. One rod, One reel and a handful of cork balls dipped in Bovril with a size 10 hook superglued inside for fine measure. Into the tree’s went David Bellamy once more and out the other side. I’d located some beauties, but the one I wanted was just outside arm’s reach (typical huh?). I squeezed my fat gut in a little further and bingo, I was in position. I lowered my bait, watched it bob up and down and then WALLOP! I was in again. This time it took me to open water, within ten minutes the babe in the picture came onto the bank at a wondrous 231/2 lb. I’d got my first 20! Poor old Rik, he was at the end of the phone when an ‘out of breath’, ‘couldn’t speak for excitement Stu’ was bellowing at him and talking him through the whole account! |
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