I suppose fishing abroad these days has become the ‘norm’ for many anglers, including myself. So after fishing in France for over 12 years the law of averages had to suggest that one day I would catch a monster.
After fishing in the Loire Valley for many years, the tragic death of Jon Burrows and the demise of ‘Le Pecheur Hotel’ had left my fishing at a low ebb.
That was until a phone call one day from a friend and fellow angler Geoff Hill. He’d phoned to explain that he had found a lovely 20’s water in Northern France called Domaine Des iles. It sounded like the ideal place for me and my mate Peter May, who had never fished in France before. To cut a long story short on that first trip we ended up with fish of 35lb, 38lb and 39lb. Geoff’s being the biggest! This was no 20’s water…. 
It turned out that a few weeks before we fished it Bernard Caron, the owner, had stocked the lake with over 100 fish of 30lb and over. Not bad for a water that, if you included all of the surrounding land, is about 60 acres.
Over the next four years Pete and I fished Domaine on a regular basis. Watching the fish grow and catching many of them in the process, both catching our 40’s, mine being 41lb l2oz and Pete’s a superb 43lbs.
In the time we fished there we got to know Bernard and over a period of time became his English representatives, along with David Elford. I’m sorry to say Peter is no longer involved due to family commitments.
The water is now throwing up 40’s galore (72 in 1998) and a good few 50’s. 20 last year topped by a 58 1/2 lb minor. A new lake record for Jon Lilley.
After the amount of time I spend on the water its becoming a bit of a standing joke with Bernard that I haven’t caught a 50! I seem to be everybody’s lucky charm as somebody always catches a big fish when I’m there.
Christmas 1998 came and went and just before new year I had an operation on my foot, meaning I couldn’t drive for a good few weeks. The weather stayed mild and my mind kept wondering to how Domaine was fishing. Although the temperatures were much colder over there.
My last trip was at the back end of November, temperatures every night went down to below freezing and there was fog everywhere. I still had three fish though, two 20’s and a 30, and I was pleased to witness Chris Osman’s 53lb mirror which later graced the front cover of Carp Talk.
I made a phone call to David Elford, just for a chat, and discovered he had arranged a long weekend, Friday 29th January – Monday 1st February and was going on his own. ‘Could you squeeze another one in?’
‘Yes’ he replied.
So all I had to do now was convince my wife Lynn as we were due to fly out to Lanzarote on the Thursday. Arrangements were made and the only job to do was scale my tackle down as we were travelling in one car.
To be perfectly honest, I was going just for the crack. I didn’t believe we had much chance of catching. With this in mind I left my good camera behind, my large unhooking mat and other various items. The most important being Geoff’s 120lb scales.
The early hours of Friday morning saw two weary anglers driving through the gates at Domaine Des iles. We drove straight around the left bay to the lodge. The sun was just coming up but the entire lake looked asleep. Well and truly in winter mode. The water level had risen about a foot since I was last there in November and looked cold and uninviting. In front of the lodge is a channel about 15ft wide. Over the bridge and in front of the lodge is a swim which controls the whole bay. We decided to ‘double up’ in there as there was room for six rods so even if the fishing was slow we could have a good chin-wag. Late afternoon saw us finally getting our rods out after a wonderful lunch prepared by Bernard and his wife Odile.
Nothing happened Friday night except the skies stayed clear to reveal an almost full moon, loads of stars and a severe frost, minus 3 degrees C to be exact. The next morning our bivvies had turned a lovely shade of white and the channel behind us had frozen.
The bay we were fishing is a peach of a swim; an island running out in front of you to your left, which in summer is lined with lilies. At the far end of the island, about 150 yards away, is the deepest part of the lake at around 14ft. From left to right you have depths ranging from 5ft to 14ft. Here you have the dam wall and the now famous ‘willow’, a now known hot spot. David was fishing on the right with me on the left. I had baits ranging from 60yds to l00yds with my left-hand rod running down the side of the island, fishing the drop-off in about 10ft of water. My middle and right hand rod were in open water. David had his left and middle rod in open water with his right-hand rod to the willow.
Saturday morning passed with complete stillness. No breeze, nothing showing at all. Suddenly at around 4pm we both saw a fish head and shoulder at about 60yds in the middle of the bay. Using the baitboat we both put a bait on the ‘mark’. Both using Grange 18mm Milky Toffee with around 10 to 15 freebies.
Saturday evening came and the temperatures dropped like a stone. Our plan was to leave early Monday morning but decided to leave Sunday evening if nothing happened through the night or Sunday daytime. With this in mind we had a feast (scoffing all our grub). Starting with steak sandwiches followed by fried chicken and veg; finishing off with tinned fruit and evaporated milk.
Saturday night was a cold one again. Down to minus 5 degrees C. Sunday morning arrived with everything white again. The channel had an even thicker layer of ice on it.
At 9. l5am I had a sudden drop-back. My indicator was on the floor. I wound down and hit a solid thump, putting a nice curve into my 12ft, 3lb test-curve Daiwa rod. The fish came steadily and then suddenly went solid. About 40yds out and I’d discovered a new snag. I couldn’t move it. Luckily we had use of a boat in the channel which, after breaking the ice, David rowed around to me. Winding down to the fish we suddenly were over the top of it and then behind it. The fish swam out of the snag and then back in it again and back out again. In the net it went and I had caught the first fish from Domaine Des iles this year.
Back on dry land the fish, a mirror, went just under 36lb. We called Bernard and had a photo shoot. We were all very happy and I put a bait back on the same line.
“Does this mean we’re staying then Dave?’ I asked. ‘It looks like it.’ he replied. ‘You do realise that all we’ve got is a tin of spuds, a tin of peas and a few slices of bread for tea?’ 
In the early afternoon of Sunday David had gone to Bernard’s house to do some work on the computer. I was in charge of six rods. One of the two other English lads fishing the lake came around to our swim and used the shower. It turned out this was their first trip to Domaine. When I questioned their sanity about fishing a new water for the first time at the end of January he said they were going to Gran Canaria to fish, but due to bad weather it had been cancelled. They just wanted to go somewhere to fish.
At about 5pm that afternoon it happened. The lake was still except for a pike striking to the right of David’s rods. I had a spinner set up on another rod and was just about to cast to it when I had a single bleep on my right hand Delkim. As I put the pike rod down I had the most vicious take I have ever experienced. My baitrunner was doing overtime. I hit what again seemed to be a good fish. Very slow and dogged. I was aware I was near that snag again, luckily the fish kited left towards the island. It was coming in quite nicely. I spoke too soon.
At about 30yds the fish decided to wake up. You know that noise a fish makes when it swirls on the surface? Well this fish made that noise, but it was much deeper in sound then I had ever heard before. How many times have you caught a decent fish and been disappointed with the fight? Not on this occasion. I could have forgiven the fish for being more than a little lethargic for it was the end of January and the water temperature was only just above freezing. This fish gave me everything and I returned the compliment. All those questions and self-doubts you have about your tackle holding up were now being answered.
As the fish drew nearer I knew I had a very big fish, maybe a 40. Oh my god!! Maybe a 50. Throughout the next few minutes ‘Oh my God’ was all I could say. I had put my net into the water but in my panic hadn’t realised it had come to the surface (by now it was dark as well). The fish was nearly ready for netting but I had to lift the net out and start again. ‘Oh my God’ I said again.
By this time the fish was at my feet, I could almost bend down and pick it up. It dived again, taking another 30yds of 15lb Big Game mono. After a short while the fish was beaten on the surface. This time I sank the net and I was ready. It was as if all the fish I had caught before had been practice runs for this one fish. The fish came over the net, the head was at the spreader block. I lifted but not all the fish was in the net. Slowly it slipped in. I have never been hyper before in my life but I’m sure I was nearly there at this moment. I had left my large unhooking mat at home, having only my small one with me. Well, at 42 inches it seemed small. As did my 42 inch landing net!!!
Had my tackle shrunk all of a sudden? This fish was huge! I tried to lift it out of the water but it wouldn’t budge. ‘Oh my God!’ (there I go again). The net’s caught. In fact it wasn’t. The fight this fish had given me had left me tired as well. The fact was it was the weight of the fish I couldn’t lift. Finally lifting it out of the water I staggered with the fish and laid it on my unhooking mat, which promptly disappeared under the size of the fish. As I pulled away the sides of the landing net I saw for the first time what I had caught. In my wildest dreams I never thought I’d catch a carp this big. He was bigger around the middle than me (A beer barrel with a head and tail) Not me, the fish!
At this moment I was hyper, I was taking deep breaths but still couldn’t breathe. I started shouting for someone but no one heard. I composed myself and wet my weigh sling. I zeroed my scales. I somehow got the fish into the weigh sling (well most of it as the fish was way too big to get it all in). I put the hook of the scales through the sling and tried to lift. The scales bottomed out and the fish was still on the ground. The scales ‘only’ went 56lbs. ‘Oh my God!’ This was fast becoming my favourite saying! What do I do now?
I decided to sack the fish and go and get help. The problem was the only sacks with me fitted the carp like a made to measure suit. The fish was so big it just filled them out. I knew there wasn’t much room in the sack and I was concerned for the fish. I was also worried about it getting out of the sack. Who would believe me. A friend of mine lost a fish last year out of a sack, a good 30. But if I lost this……
I needed to contact Bernard and by now I was thinking reasonably straight. I knew David had a copy of Carp World in his bivvy with Domaine Des iles last advert in it, which had Bernard’s phone number on. Do you think I could find the mag? Now what? I know, I’ll phone home on the mobile, Lynn’s at home. I’ll phone her and she can phone Bernard. So I did and I got the bloody ansaphone! 
Another rummage through David’s bivvy and I found Carp World.
‘Bernard, come quick, I’ve caught a 50’.
‘Paul, is this a joke?’ Asked Bernard. ‘You are breathing heavy.’
‘No Bernard, it’s no joke, I’ve caught a big 50! Come quick.’
A short while later Bernard turned up with Odile, David and the other two English lads. David asked me ‘How big?’ and I replied, ‘I don’t know, I need you to give me a hand.’
As I laid the fish on the unhooking mat there were gasps of disbelief as I peeled back the sack. I put the fish in the weigh sling and David lifted the scales. Once again the scales bottomed out. This time with five other witnesses. Nobody had larger scales with them. What do we do? We decided to wind back the scales 2lb at a time. We wound back as far as the scales would allow. 10lbs in total, but the scales still bottomed out.
Fearing for the safety of the fish I wanted some quick pictures and then the fish released. This we did. Have you ever tried posing with over five stone in weight in your arms? We released the fish not knowing its true weight. A personal nightmare for me. As I’m sitting here writing this I can see those scales being ‘blown away.’ 
That night we did our ‘ready steady cook’ bit with our spuds, etc, and had chip butties. With a few beers on my part and David (he’s Tee-total at the moment) giving me a toast with water.
I was concerned over the weight of the fish. I phoned John Lilley that night and told him what I’d caught and what we had done with the scales. In fact we phoned a number of people.
We left on Monday later than we had planned, but one thing I wanted to do was to get the names and phone numbers of the two other English lads who were fishing as well. I have these if anybody wants to clarify anything concerning the fish. We left them some of our bait. I hope they caught.
Travelling home my head was in cloud nine. The mobile rang and it was Pete. He wanted to know what time we would be home. ‘Why?’ I asked. ‘So we can try and sort out the weight of this fish,’ he replied.
We arrived home that evening where myself, David, Lynn and Peter tried to work out the true weight. We wound back the scales again and put a water container weighing 56lbs onto them. We kept adding weight until I was happy the scales had rested just below the mark when we weighed the fish. We had over 68lb in weight on the scales.
The next day Bernard phoned me at work, but I was out. Lynn spoke to him and he was anxious to know what weight we had put on the fish. When I returned I received a phone call from a good friend, Dereck Huntley, and his son Allan. Dereck had been involved with running fishing clubs and a boat out of Newhaven for many years. I respect his comments greatly. After explaining the story to him and telling him the make of scales he said you can safely say you’ve had a fish of between 65 and 70lbs. He said ‘You will never know the true weight but I would settle for somewhere in the middle if I were you”.
I phoned David to make sure he was happy with the way we weighed the fish and the way we checked the scales later. I also told him I was going to put a ‘guestimate’ weight of 66lbs on the fish. My reasons for this were we know the scales go 56lbs and we know we wound them back 10lbs. So we know the fish was at least 66lbs. He said he was happy with this weight but also said we had more weight on the scales. Peter said the same thing. I phoned Bernard and told him I was settling for a ‘guestimate’ of 66lbs. He was happy with this.
I phoned John Lilley that evening and had a long conversation with him. He also agreed on what I had decided.
I accept the fact that there may be a few people who are sceptical over this capture as we cannot and never will be able to give an exact weight. Although I believe this fish may have been larger.
I have had to err on the side of caution and I sincerely hope somebody catches this fish again in the near future at a greater weight!
Just think what it could go to in May.
The fish did in fact come out again at the end of April, and weighed 58lb 12oz. This does not mean that the fish, at the time Paul caught it, weighed less than he claimed. Carp often gain or lose several pounds at different times of the year (quite apart from spawning times), and carp often weigh more in January than they do in April before they grow fat with spawn. A carp weighing around 60lb could quite conceivably weigh six or seven pounds more or less within the space of three months. The fact that the fish was weighed on inadequate scales at the time Paul caught it was unfortunate, to say the least, not only for Paul, but for the history books of Domaine des Iles, which is one of the best-run, genuine carp fisheries in France. Sceptics will, indeed, cast doubt on the weight of the fish, but I personally agree totally with the estimated weight that Paul claimed – Graham Marsden
