Day Two

Carpworld - - THINK TANK -

Paul and Sean, who’d slid in next door, were bag­ging up from first light. Sean had a num­ber of 40s and two 50s. Paul, two more 40s and a 50. Paul had also cot­toned on to the fact that Sean was get­ting bites in quick suc­ces­sion by us­ing his bait­boat for a much stealth­ier ap­proach, and so the two of them set about re­do­ing Paul’s rods with in­fi­nite pre­ci­sion and the ut­most si­lence. I’m not go­ing to lie; after Paul had wan­gled an­other cou­ple by late morn­ing, I didn’t see the harm in hav­ing Sean drop both my baits – purely in the in­ter­ests of science, of course – tight to the far bank, but I was get­ting a lit­tle edgy that they hadn’t gone by the time ev­ery­one else was gath­er­ing for a group shop-run. I needn’t have wor­ried as both went in quick suc­ces­sion some 45 min­utes later, giv­ing me a spawned-out, up­per 30 and an im­mac­u­late 45lb 8oz com­mon to kick-start my trip. Well, you only live once, and as some­one else said, “we’re abroad, so they don’t count any­way!”

As an aside, my ever-alert swim buddy slept through a down­pour of sim­ply bi­b­li­cal pro­por­tions dur­ing the night and looked gen­uinely per­plexed as to why his bivvy and the sur­round­ing land­scape was soak­ing wet when he opened his eyes that morn­ing...

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