Our man goes in search of big summer carp
The fishing wouldn’t be easy with all that weed, but I’d been told of a likely spot to fish. I took my time preparing for battle...
THE rising sun reflected like liquid gold on the lake as I pushed my laden tackle barrow through the dew-sodden grass.
Swirls of mist pirouetted as warm and cold air collided – a wonderful dawn indeed, but there was another purpose to my early alarm call. Now was the time for carp to give the game away and tell me where they liked their breakfast served. Casting out a rig now would only spook the fish, but later it would
be a different story.
Scanning the water, I already had a heads-up. My friend Phil had tipped me off about a small gravel strip surrounded by tall fronds of weed – from here he had taken a number of cracking carp.
The first sign in the marked zone was a series of bubbles fizzing to the surface, and it was impossible to miss the head and flank of a big grey mirror as it broke through the watery veil to say ‘hello’. Now I had to try and place a rig as accurately and quietly as possible, but I wasn’t surprised or even despondent when the dawn slipped by without a bite and the lake went back to snoozing the summer away. I had work to do to be ready for the fish by nightfall.
In summer I’m very likely to serve up bits and pieces by way of feed, and this time the mixture would be Sticky’s Krill Active Mix with crushed boilies, made sloppy with Cap Oil and water. This would put out a mega food signal, so I mixed up a kilo of my witch’s brew in a small bucket.
I wanted an alternative hookbait in the unlikely event that boilies failed, and tiger nuts were an obvious choice. Two days before the trip I had opened a tin of Dynamite growlers to give time for their natural juices to ferment a little. Only when the sugary goo surrounding them became thick and stringy would they be perfect to use. A few handfuls of these, and a kilo of Krill boilies, formed the rest of my baiting arsenal. Vast amounts of weed were between me and the spot I
intended to fish, so I chose braid over monofilament. Loaded on to my Onyx reel was a thick 30lb line that didn’t cast very well but, importantly, sank to the bottom only 60 yards out.
A Terry Hearn Distance rod was the reel’s perfect partner, and now it was time to choose the terminal tackle. A leader of some sort is always required to protect the carp when using braid, and I selected 1.5m of E-S-P leadcore with a safety clip. This should always be moistened before slipping the
tail rubber back in place – under extreme conditions I prefer the E-S-P Ejector clip.
Hooklength was 10ins of Tungsten Loaded coated braid to a size 4 Cryogen Gripper hook. A simple bottom rig would support a dense boilie on the hair, or two tigers should I need to change.
Of two identical outfits, only one would be fished and the other kept as a spare, so I could quickly resume fishing after my first catch. I’m supremely confident with this single rod approach and the lack of disturbance it causes.
There was yet more work to do. I knew if I hooked a fish that I’d need a boat to land it. An inflatable craft with a solid transom and bottom is the safest to use but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t be wearing a lifejacket. I also had a short-handled landing net, easy to manoeuvre should I get lucky!
Prepared at last, I popped the marker float up on the gravel strip, noting that this feature was longer than it was wide, and the bottom was more choddy to the rear of it.
I guess the standard approach next would be to take to the boat to drop the rig and bait on the spot, but I learned long ago to keep off the water if at all possible.
The moment I started bobbing about like Captain Birdseye, every carp would know about it. I would stay on the bank unless the carp weeded me! Afternoon had rolled around before I got to sit on my bedchair, but at least I did so with supreme confidence.
Big fish don’t grow on trees, and words can never truly convey the passage of time. For many the wait would be boring, but for me nature always provides plenty of diversions. So as day returned to night I was happy to watch a hobby chase dragonflies in the fading light, knowing full well that when it next did so my own hunt would be in full swing. No wonder I was restless all night, and already watching the yellow bobbin when it rose quicker than the sun.
Hardly any braid had been taken from the spool but every lunge of the fish was through weed, transmitting a grating sensation through the rod. After all my efforts I didn’t want to lose my prize, so I was very thankful for the boat and its electric motor to get me to the carp quickly.
Legs akimbo, I stood and wound down fast, actually steering the boat with the rod. As I neared the spot I turned the engine off and glided the last few feet. Experience had taught me not to pull like mad with the rod, as doing so against a fixed point would spin the boat like a propeller. Instead I laid the rod down and pulled gently and directly with the braid in my hand. Only when I got the carp moving again would I pick the rod up.
It’s a nervy moment when you can feel a pulsing through your fingertips, knowing the hook could easily be ripped out, but within a minute I had stripped most of the weed away and had the angry carp on the move.
Now the rod was back into play as I allowed a breezeblock to tow me as it smashed through more vegetation, only applying more pressure when it tried to bury itself. Keep the fish moving and I might win!
For 10 more epic minutes the carp carved a channel 100 yards long through the weed. Understandably, I was thankful to finally see its gasping mouth and huge flank on the surface.
As the net swallowed my prize I punched the air in jubilation. I’m addicted to such moments, and a little patience is a very small price to pay to experience them.