Goslaw­ice Gold

Carpworld - - CONTENTS - - Dan Cleary

Dan is no stranger to a Euro ad­ven­ture but as yet, he’s kept those trips lim­ited to the north. How­ever, in re­cent times he has started to look fur­ther and fur­ther afield, in this in­stance by­pass­ing his in­tended venues in Italy and Aus­tria, head­ing all the way to Poland to tackle a lake that is still rel­a­tively un­known to the UK mar­ket

Dan is no stranger to a Euro ad­ven­ture but as yet, he’s kept those trips lim­ited to the north. How­ever, in re­cent times he has started to look fur­ther and fur­ther afield, in this in­stance by­pass­ing his in­tended venues in Italy and Aus­tria, head­ing all the way to Poland to tackle a lake that is still rel­a­tively un­known to the UK mar­ket

II have to start by writ­ing that I never en­vis­aged trav­el­ling to Poland to go carp fish­ing, ever! That is, un­til a cou­ple of months ago, thanks in part to Steve Briggs’ won­der­ful video on Youtube. I had pre­vi­ously set aside a week for a ses­sion on my cur­rent chal­lenge, based in Sur­rey, but for one thing or an­other, I wasn’t sure this would be the best use of my time on that par­tic­u­lar lake. I then thought about a trip to France, or my usual au­tum­nal trip to the Bel­gian canals – but I re­ally fan­cied some­thing dif­fer­ent for a change. I al­ready had a few wa­ters I fan­cied in Italy and Aus­tria, but they were fully booked, un­til 2020 in fact. I started look­ing else­where, and that’s when the idea of a trip to Goslaw­ice came up. I then saw that they had one swim left that had a lodge (there are 3 swims of­fer­ing such com­par­a­tive lux­ury) dur­ing Oc­to­ber – for the rest of the pe­riod the other lodges were fully booked. I spoke with my wife, Caro­line, as she still had five days of hol­i­day left to use from work and was up for join­ing me, so I booked it that evening, be­fore the lodge went to some­one else. I paid in full the next day, re­ceiv­ing an email con­firm­ing the book­ing just a few hours later. That was it then – we were go­ing to be driv­ing to Poland, a jour­ney of nearly 1000 miles. It was sched­uled to take a lit­tle over 17 hours, with lit­tle time to stop for a break!

With the day fast ap­proach­ing, we got all the food and bait re­quired. Thank­fully, all the swims come with a hard boat, and by us­ing the lodge it meant our car was not go­ing to be packed to the rafters, as with all our pre­vi­ous trips across the chan­nel to­gether. This was go­ing to be our most com­fort­able fish­ing trip ever!

Hav­ing loaded the car at lunchtime, it was sim­ply a case of meet­ing up at home shortly af­ter fin­ish­ing work at 5pm. We locked the house up and hit the mo­tor­way, bound for Dover – pre­fer­ring the ferry over the tun­nel. This would give us time to have a bite to eat, stretch out and rest on an empty ferry, be­fore the en­su­ing 12-13 hour drive once we ar­rived at Dunkirk. With the Sat Nav only tak­ing us onto a wrong road once, some­where near Hanover in Ger­many, mean­ing we made it across five coun­tries and ar­rived at the lake around 2pm. This would give us three or four hours of day­light to get set up and find some spots, as the lake is very weedy.

To­masz, the head bailiff, gave us a run­down of the rules and then we set off to our lodge, home for the week and started get­ting ev­ery­thing read­ied. I de­cided to bivvy up on the deck­ing out­side the lodge, so I could keep an eye and ear on the fish dur­ing the week, while Caro­line got ev­ery­thing else in­side, so she could en­joy the rel­a­tive com­forts of the lodge.

I wasted no time in get­ting out in the boat, look­ing for spots. I found two very eas­ily. There was a large pota­moge­ton weedbed sit­u­ated right in front of the swim, it started around 25-30 yards out, run­ning some 40 yards fur­ther and it was ap­prox­i­mately four rod lengths wide. There were two coves half­way along, one on ei­ther side, which looked ideal. The left-han­der, would have to go over a sec­tion of weed, and be fished on a

tight line, while the right-hand side al­lowed for a bet­ter an­gle, so the line could be fished lower in the wa­ter, but not too slack, due to the big weedbed of course.

The third rod was the chal­lenge – try­ing to find a clear enough spot with the use of a marker was hard work. I don’t like the use of bait boats at the best of times, it takes away the skill of an an­gler in my opin­ion. With 24 fish­er­man on the lake, in pairs, ex­cept for my­self and one other, and all of them us­ing bait boats, the scene in front of me was like a minia­turised Hen­ley Royal Re­gatta. They were whin­ing and whizzing about all over the lake, find­ing clear spots with their GPS co­or­di­nates al­ready pro­grammed in from pre­vi­ous visits or via info from friends. There was zero an­gling skill or wa­ter­craft in ev­i­dence – I will leave it at that I think...

I found an area with a thin­ner level of weed around 17 wraps out, to the left of a thicker weed bed. I wasn’t ex­actly con­fi­dent, but I was run­ning out of time and en­ergy, in all hon­esty.

I didn’t want to go in heavy with the bait, as I could see quite a few of the other an­glers with buck­ets stacked up four or five high at the side of their swims. My bait com­prised a mix of 15 and 18mm Com­plex-t boilies, both whole and bro­ken, some 8mm trout pel­lets, mixed par­ti­cles and a tin of snails and hemp. In to­tal I guess there was around 3kg mixed up in a bucket, I spombed about 1kg around each spot, nicely spread about, so it didn’t look like it was dumped by a bait boat. The other ad­van­tage of not go­ing big with the bait, was that I could eas­ily move the rods on any show­ing fish I might see, and not leave a large bed of bits in the mid­dle of my swim, wait­ing for some­thing that may not even hap­pen. It was my first time there af­ter all, and, ideally, I needed the fish to tell me where they wanted to be first and I would take ac­tion ac­cord­ingly the next morn­ing, af­ter some much needed sleep first!

I rigged up all three rods with a snow­man setup, a 15mm Com­plex-t hard­ened hook­bait on all three, two topped with 10mm Crave pink pop-ups, and one with a 10mm Pineap­ple and Ba­nana. With the rods set and in po­si­tion, I could sit in the lodge and have din­ner, which Caro­line had cooked up, I was shat­tered and crashed out in the bivvy not long af­ter and the lights went out very quickly.

I didn’t have to wait too long for my first bite in Poland – at just af­ter mid­night the mid­dle rod was away, with line be­ing taken from the spool at a steady pace, I bent into the fish, and I felt it pull back, but soon it all went solid, with the fish lodged firmly in the mid­dle of the weedbed. I jumped into the boat and wound my­self over to the fish, where slowly but surely I could ping my line free from the grasp of the pota­moge­ton vines and leaves. I worked cau­tiously, mov­ing from one set to an­other and af­ter a few min­utes, I was di­rectly above the fish. Sud­denly the line started mov­ing again, ac­com­pa­nied by boils on the sur­face, and the fish made its way through the weedbed, with me now above it, the line didn’t snag again and even­tu­ally the fish tired and I slid the net un­der both it and a large clump of weed. With the net han­dle se­cured be­neath my legs, I rowed out of the fronds and into open wa­ter, where I could turn on the out­board and slowly make my way back to the swim.

Caro­line was wait­ing pa­tiently and with the aid of her head torch, grabbed the boat as I drifted in, slowly. She had got ev­ery­thing ready, so it was a sim­ple mat­ter of bit­ing the line and car­ry­ing the fish to the mat. We got a read­ing of 22lb from the scales – not a mon­ster, but my first ever Pol­ish mir­ror carp. A few quick snaps were all that were re­quired and it was re­turned back to the lake, I was back out in the boat plac­ing my rig back into po­si­tion within min­utes, ea­ger for more. With no real chance of cast­ing to this spot, I gave it a lit­tle top-up of bait and was soon back in­side my nice, warm sleep­ing bag.

I awoke to a glo­ri­ously sunny, au­tumn day, more akin to sum­mer to be hon­est. Whilst sit­ting there hav­ing my corn­flakes, the right-hand alarm let out a flurry of beeps and I was soon play­ing my sec­ond carp of the trip. I man­aged to play this one in to the bank from the com­fort of the stag­ing.

It made the weedbed a cou­ple of times, but only along the fringes, from where I man­aged to coax it back each time. Af­ter a fairly short fight, I had what looked like a mid-20 mir­ror sit­ting at the bot­tom on the net. I was just grab­bing the scales, when the mid­dle rod was away, this time an­other boat bat­tle en­sued, and af­ter a few hairy mo­ments, I had an­other 20 in the sec­ond net, this time a com­mon. They weighed 26lb and 22lb re­spec­tively and af­ter an­other brief photo shoot, they were re­turned and I was out in the boat, plac­ing new rigs onto the spots once more.

Thank­fully those few hours of sleep had done me the world of good. I felt recharged and ready to go for round four. By Sun­day af­ter­noon, I’d still yet to re­ceive a bleep on the left-hand rod in open wa­ter. I wasn’t happy about that and on re­triev­ing the rig it was cov­ered in silk­weed. I needed to spend some time find­ing a good spot to place it. Af­ter sev­eral ex­ploratory casts, the marker lead clonked down on some­thing as I was re­triev­ing it, I pulled off a rod-length of line, clipped up and re­cast, it was firm, but, as I pulled back, I felt some big rocks or boul­ders as it tem­po­rar­ily got caught up, be­fore bounc­ing over them. I could feel a firmer, flat spot be­yond the snaggy area, so I popped the marker float up, and went for a more de­tailed check in the boat. I leaded about all around the float and it ap­peared I had found the side of the plateau that the weed bed was on. If I went any fur­ther left, it was deeper, yet still very weedy. The only de­cent bit of ground was a rod length past the orig­i­nal spot I had dis­cov­ered, and so I placed around a kilo of Com­plex-t and some pel­lets over quite a wide area, then re­turned to place my rig down. I could then re­trieve the marker rod. Thank­fully, it was flat calm, as I was plac­ing the rig very close to the marker, and it could eas­ily have tan­gled. With that sorted, I felt I was now fish­ing with all three rods. We were tuck­ing into din­ner in the lodge that evening, when the mid­dle rod sig­nalled an­other bite, and I soon had an­other 26-pounder nes­tled in the net. Once again I caused it the min­i­mum of stress with a quick shot of each side, be­fore slip­ping it back and re­turn­ing to my pasta – it was still warm! The rig was then placed back into po­si­tion and topped up with boilies, pel­lets and mixed par­ti­cles. I was now feel­ing the ef­fects of the long drive and crashed out early.

At a lit­tle af­ter 4am, I was in on the left-han­der, just past the boul­ders, I played the fish most of the way in from the deck­ing of the swim, but as it was get­ting in­creas­ingly close to the reeds down to my left, I de­cided to jump into the boat. It had made fast in a small weedbed there but once I was above the fish, it popped up like a cork, then pro­ceeded to take me on a merry old dance in the boat, turn­ing me around sev­eral times. Even­tu­ally the fish tired and slid over the cord – this looked a fair bit big­ger than the pre­vi­ous fish. Back in the swim and the scales con­firmed as much, read­ing 35lb and ounces. I was over the moon, we shot a bit of video, took some pho­tos then back it went. With the spot now marked out, I clipped the rod up and cast it back from dry land.

Noth­ing else oc­curred for me on the Mon­day, at least not dur­ing the day. The rigs were put into po­si­tion again, and topped up with around 1kg of bait each. The left-hand rod that I had cast out, had snagged up, and I couldn’t free it. As­sum­ing it was caught on a rock or large stone, I went out in the boat, and pulled from above. Ever so slowly I started to lift a heavy weight, how­ever, it fell off be­fore I could see it. Maybe it wasn’t a rock af­ter all – pos­si­bly a large branch? I low­ered a fresh rig down from the boat, to the right of the snag, and hoped that if I re­ceived any more ac­tion the fish would lift the line away from what­ever it was down there. A lit­tle af­ter 9pm that same rod burst into life. This fish was re­ally pulling and had taken quite a bit of line and by the time I man­aged to get the life­jacket and head torch on. With bent rod in one hand, it was some 100 or so yards out to the left of the swim. Yet again, this one had sought sanc­tu­ary in a weedbed, and once I got it mov­ing, the fight re­ally started. This fish used all its weight and strength, and on a few oc­ca­sions I saw the out­line of a large creamy-coloured mir­ror through the mist­cov­ered sur­face with my head torch. I turned it off, as the fish re­ally didn’t seem to want to make my ac­quain­tance. It was an­other ten or so min­utes, be­fore the head popped up on the sur­face and I could guide it into the wait­ing net. The Reubens set­tled on a weight of 37½lb – happy days. Two hours later and I’m in again, this time on the mid­dle rod. There was an­other pro­tracted bat­tle from the boat, pro­duc­ing a mir­ror just shy of 36lb – a lovely, dark mir­ror.

The next bite came to the same rod just be­fore mid­day. The wind had re­ally grown in strength, and what­ever I tried, I could not get near the fish in the mid­dle of the pota­moge­ton. The out­board was on full, and as soon as I got any­where near the weed, I had to cut the en­gine to stop it get­ting caught up. Ini­tially, I tried to use lever­age from the rod but with­out suc­cess, then I tried to hand-line my­self to­wards it, but the wind was just too strong. I tried th­ese var­i­ous op­tions over again for a pe­riod of about 15 min­utes. In the end I had to go back and pick up Caro­line, so she could steer the boat and I could con­cen­trate on the fish – that was as­sum­ing it was still on the end of the line, which I now doubted. Fi­nally, we reached where the line en­tered the weed, and as I was pulling at the strands to free what­ever might be be­low, the line was torn from my hands and, mirac­u­lously, we were back in con­tact! Th­ese new Korda Ka­makura hooks had kept a good hold and even­tu­ally hav­ing guided the fish out of the weed and into open wa­ter, where I could breathe again, I had what looked like a nice com­mon in the net. With all the com­mo­tion, a group of Ger­man an­glers who were fish­ing next door to us thought it was a real mon­ster. As it turned out I was still happy to hoist up my first 30lb-plus com­mon of the trip at 31lb.

Once again, I went through my usual pro­ce­dure of get­ting out fresh hook­baits, and topped up the spots with a fur­ther kilo over each. My marker rod got caught on the left-hand snag, and so I re­versed in the boat, went around a cou­ple of times, hop­ing the braid would wrap round what­ever it was and it worked – slowly I lifted a heavy ob­ject to­wards the boat – the base of a big old tree trunk and some of its roots which were cov­ered in mus­sels, hove into view. I grabbed hold with one hand, and turned on the out­board with the other. It was an ef­fort to get onto the bank, but I man­aged and was glad to clear the swim, hop­ing the dis­tur­bance on the bot­tom might at­tract the fish into the area.

Noth­ing else oc­curred dur­ing the night, even though fish were lump­ing out all over the lake. The tem­per­a­ture had dropped dur­ing the night – the cold­est of the ses­sion so far, but the fore­cast was to get hot­ter for the rest of the week. Now I would like to re­port that I man­aged a good night’s sleep – but no, I was kept awake by a beaver, fran­ti­cally chop­ping away some 12ft be­hind me, on the log I’d dragged in the day be­fore. He vis­ited us ev­ery night for the re­main­der of the trip!

It was nearly 24-hours un­til the next bite and it had me scrab­bling about to exit the bivvy. Yet again it was the mid­dle rod re­quir­ing my at­ten­tion and as I lifted into it, it im­me­di­ately buck­led over un­der the power of the fish. Un­be­liev­ably, as I clam­bered into the boat, the right-hand rod was away too. Caro­line picked it up and I shouted her ba­sic in­struc­tions over my shoul­der as I left, as she had never played a fish be­fore this mo­ment. In typ­i­cal fash­ion, the fish I was at­tached too, wasn’t go­ing to come qui­etly. It went through the en­tire weedbed, out of the far end, into clear wa­ter, then buried it­self deep into an­other weedbed! Mean­while, Caro­line’s fish was in a reed bed a lit­tle way down the mar­gin, so I in­structed her to just keep a tight line on it for now.

The fish I was at­tached to looked big as it came past the boat. It tried to get into the dense weed again, pick­ing up a cou­ple of strands, which ac­tu­ally did me a favour, as it slowed the fish up and fi­nally it slid into the net. This was a def­i­nitely a big­ger carp, fill­ing the net. I bit the line and made my way back to the swim. I took over the other rod and found the line was wrapped round three reed stems. Once I’d man­aged to un­tan­gle the line and then wound the slack line up, I was taken to within just a few feet of where Caro­line was stand­ing. Deep into the reeds, the wa­ter’s sur­face boiled, as the carp made a break for open wa­ter – but the line had cut into a reed stem, and tan­gled around an­other, whilst the fish had gone un­der­neath me in the boat. I fran­ti­cally got the line clear of the reed stems and with a tight line I could play the fish out in open wa­ter. This carp was still full of beans and had me all over the place – but fi­nally I won the day, and had a nice scaly mir­ror in the sec­ond net, and the tenth of the trip.

Once back in the swim, we dealt with the first and larger fish, weigh­ing it in at 55lb 12oz. We slipped the fish into the re­tainer and called To­masz, as ev­ery fish over 20kg had to be called in and wit­nessed. While he made his way round, we dealt with the other fish, which weighed just over 28lb – even get­ting a joint photo as we both had a hand in play­ing it to the bank. We re­turned the fish and got ev­ery­thing ready for To­masz to ar­rive and deal with the big girl. I was more than made up with this one – a 50lb-plus fish was what I had hoped for the most and what a cracker it was too, with per­fect pro­por­tions and lovely colours.

I had a leisurely lunch be­fore get­ting all three rods back out. The rods were out for less than hour be­fore I was in again. The pro­lific mid­dle rod was the cul­prit, which meant I took straight to the boat. This one turned out to be lovely and dark, a near lin­ear of 30lb. We rounded the day off with din­ner in the lodge and popped open a nice bot­tle of Prosecco to cel­e­brate.

I had to wait a whole 12-hours, un­til three in the morn­ing, for the next take. Yet again it was the pro­duc­tive mid­dle rod, fished to that lit­tle clear cove on the left-hand side on the weed bed. Sadly, as I got out over the fish and freed it, it pow­ered off and with the clutch set tighter than I nor­mally have it, I couldn’t slacken off in time and the in­evitable part­ing of the ways fol­lowed. I re­ally hate losses un­der any cir­cum­stances, but even more so when they’re my own fault!

The day started out a bright and sunny, be­com­ing the hottest of the trip. It was in the mid20s, which for mid-oc­to­ber is a bit mad re­ally. As with the pre­vi­ous few days, just be­fore lunchtime we had a take – this time the right-hand alarm sig­nalling a bite. This was a quick af­fair, with a small­ish 20 soon ly­ing in the folds of the net.

Just as I fin­ished off the last of my main course that evening, I re­ceived an­other take – pud­ding would have to wait! Thank­fully the fight was short-lived as the carp had got caught around the weed stems, just a few feet from where it was hooked. I man­aged to bun­dle the fish into the net, along with a load of weed – it looked like an­other mid-30 that could be hap­pily held aloft for the cam­era.

My first ac­tion on Thurs­day came to the right-hand rod at just af­ter 3am. This one was the small­est of the ses­sion so far, at 17lb, yet fought like a tiger. Two hours later and I re­ceived yet an­other – this proved to be a com­mon of 32lb, the big­gest com­mon of the trip so far. This rod was away again at 10:30am, an hour ahead of sched­ule – in­stead of the four pre­vi­ous morn­ing bites at 11:30.

As men­tioned ear­lier, I had fished a snow­man set-up on all three rods, with a yel­low Pineap­ple and Ba­nana pop-up on the right-han­der. This set-up had pro­duced the small­est fish of the ses­sion, in the form of two dou­bles and two twen­ties. Was it the spot, or the yel­low pop-up I won­dered? I chose to try a dif­fer­ent pop-up for the last 48-hours – a home-made white, in­cor­po­rat­ing two oils (one be­ing the Dy­na­mite Es­sen­tial Cit­rus Oil, and an­other that I’d sourced my­self). I then got the rigs freshly baited and added a small ‘stick’ to each, choos­ing to drop them from the boat again.

Thurs­day was the first day that the mid­dle rod hadn’t pro­duced a bite, so I de­cided to top up the spot with just a few boilies sprin­kled in the vicin­ity. Af­ter an­other fine meal that evening, the rod that had seen a change of hook­bait trun­dled off. It felt a bet­ter fish straight away, try­ing ev­ery trick in the book – charg­ing one way and then the other, plough­ing from one weedbed to the next, un­til, af­ter a real tug-of-war, it wal­lowed, beaten, on the sur­face. At an ounce shy of 36lb I was pleased that it had fallen to one of my home-made pop-ups.

I knew it was a good fish straight away – and a com­mon as well. We got it un­hooked and weighed, all 51lb 12oz of golden Goslaw­ice com­mon

With crys­tal clear skies from the mo­ment I opened my eyes, it was ob­vi­ously go­ing to be a scorcher – a pre­dicted 28ºc I had been told. It was our fi­nal, full-day and I was do­ing some film­ing, when I re­ceived a take on the right-hand rod. I struck, felt the fish pull and then it sim­ply fell off, painful yet thank­fully only the sec­ond loss of the trip. I dropped the rig back into po­si­tion and then got back to my film­ing. Blow me down, if just as I got into shot than that same rod was off again! This time I felt the fish as it took me into the weed like all the oth­ers. The fight lasted a lit­tle longer, but sadly I re­trieved the hook from a reed stem. Two losses in an hour was not how I wanted to sign off!

And so, an hour later, I re­ceived yet an­other take. This time it was the left-hand rod, in open wa­ter. I man­aged to play this fish in from the deck­ing, for only the sec­ond time of the trip. A lot of the fight was at close quar­ters, but fi­nally I man­aged to flick the tail into the net. I knew it was a good fish straight away – and a com­mon as well. We got it un­hooked and weighed, all 51lb 12oz of golden Goslaw­ice com­mon.

We roped in our new friend from the next swim door to as­sist with the pho­tos, as he was a me­dia pro for a Ger­man tackle com­pany, and he did a fan­tas­tic job of the pho­tos and film­ing. I donned my waders for some ‘re­turn­ing shots’, and got soaked in the process. That fish was the 19th of the trip – I didn’t re­ally care, but one more would be a nice way to round the trip up. Not long af­ter get­ting ev­ery­thing in po­si­tion for the last night, and be­fore teatime, the mid­dle-rod alarm bleeped away. It had been 36-hours since the last bite on that spot, and the rod had only been out a few min­utes. At 28lb it was hardly ground break­ing, but my 20th carp from 23 bites was a nice feel­ing. An­other bot­tle of Prosecco was pol­ished off that evening too!

The only ac­tion dur­ing the fi­nal night was a small tench in the early hours. The carp were re­ally ac­tive, es­pe­cially to my left, and I left the rods out, right to the death. Just be­fore 10am I could see some­one play­ing a fish from the boat out to my left. Talk about a last minute bite – and at a smidgen shy of 50lb it tran­spired as well.

I had a bit of a night­mare in the end. With the car packed and the lodge cleared, and the heavy boat heaved up onto the deck­ing, it was time to wind in the rods. The mid­dle-rod came in fine, but the right-hand rod was snagged and I had to re­sort to the boat. Af­ter a bit of pulling with an old sock over my hand, it came free. I could only as­sume it was a root of the pota­moge­ton weed.

Back to the swim, and with the boat back on dry land again, I picked up the last rod. This was also snagged! Could you be­lieve it? So, off out I went again. Sadly the sock trick didn’t work this time – this was stuck solid and wasn’t budg­ing. Even­tu­ally the line parted, not re­ally how I wanted the trip to fin­ish. With eight 30s and two 50s I wasn’t grum­bling, but I did think it a bit odd that no 40s turned up.

My next two sum­mer trips have al­ready been booked for France and Italy, but we re­ally did en­joy our­selves and can fully rec­om­mend this Pol­ish venue. If you fancy some­thing dif­fer­ent to your usual French trip then you could well give Goslaw­ice a se­ri­ous look. With fish hav­ing been caught to 76lb and most of them still grow­ing, I’d say it’s well worth the ef­fort.

BOT­TOM A solid-hulled boat for your use through­out the week... Some­thing I’d come to ap­pre­ci­ate very quickly in­deed!

RIGHT TOP While for the most part I chose to find spots with my boat and then cast to them, oth­ers chose the greater evil – please note what is lurk­ing in the back­ground RIGHT MID­DLE Com­plex-t, trout pel­lets, var­i­ous par­ti­cles and some hemp and snails – a meal fit for a King (carp)

LEFT Caro­line had a grand­stand view of pro­ceed­ings, which was handy on more than one oc­ca­sion

BE­LOW At 55lb 12oz, this brute of a mir­ror was the largest of the trip and made the long slog well worth it

ABOVE This is Bobby. Bobby took up res­i­dence just be­hind my bivvy, and then stayed there (nois­ily) all week long

BE­LOW This up­per-20 was the re­sult of great team­work and pre­sented an op­por­tu­nity for a nice photo to com­mem­o­rate the hol­i­day

ABOVE An­other mid-30. Once the fish started com­ing, they re­ally didn’t stop and the ac­tion was con­sis­tent right up un­til the last night

BE­LOW This low-30 was my largest com­mon of the week to date

ABOVE The fish caused no end of prob­lems while I was try­ing to do a spot of film­ing on Fri­day BE­LOW This huge com­mon rounded off a bril­liant week’s fish­ing

ABOVE The sun­sets were won­der­ful. I’ll re­mem­ber this view for a long time

BE­LOW Re­leas­ing an­other Goslaw­ice mir­ror back into its cool­ing wa­ters

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from UK

© PressReader. All rights reserved.