Last Practice Before World Carp Classic

~ A sneaky 48hr Session Away From The Homested ~

This one really was a squeeze, I’d just dropped the wife and grommet off at Ashford’s Eurostar Terminal at 9am Tuesday, for their Paris shopping spree.  Then gunned it back to Canterbury to pick up my kit to get down to the lake.  Amazingly by 1230pm I had both rods out, and was able at last to give my ears a rest and sit back in anticipation of some Kent lumps.

Armed with a session pack of CC Moore’s Live-System for my left-hand far margin rod, and a bucket of maize for my right-hand rod for a deep bay close in to the near bank, I felt supremely confident of some action.

The first night passed without blip, other than the ones caused by the swims resident moor hens head-butting my indicators. The deep bay turned out to be a lemon, and although I kept a vigil on the spot throughout, there didn’t seem to be anything feeding on it. By mid-morning I abandoned the maize rod and repositioned it on the far margin to have both out on boilies about 40 metres apart.

Moving the rig to the opposite bank had the desired effect, at 1pm a very fast run on the RH rod had me reeded up. A bit of gentle persuasion from an acute angle eventually freed the fiesty little common, which went 11lb 10oz to save me from a blanking mindset.

After the little common it went quiet again, which wasn’t so bad as I’m managed to get my Netbook fired up with the aid of a solar charger. I’m just hoping I can use it from the banks of Madine for daily updates during the competition?

I’d been asleep for about an hour, when at 10.30pm I was dragged awake by a screaming run on the left-hander. The fish was a dead-set scrapper, and after about 10 minutes or more I managed to guide him over the chord in the pitch black along with half a ton of weed. At 19lb 1oz I went back to my fart-sack quite contented.

The mozzies were really bad here, so bad in fact that I even went to the extreme of lighting a mosquito coil, which is the first time I’ve ever done that in Britain. Consequently my flyscreen door was securely zipped…maybe a little too secure? At 2.30 a monotone run had me leaping off the bedchair in a flash, though my exit from the bivvy was not so speedy. For some reason the zip got stuck fast, and the fish just kept going ang going and going. I’m sure that anyone else that was awake was wondering how on earth anyone could let a fish run for so long? Eventually freeing myself I omited any footware in my haste, and stood barefoot playing the fish while hordes of bloodthirsty mozzies chowed down on my feet and ankles. Despite extracting the fish from a long range snag and getting it within coowee of the net I lost it! Speechless or what?

After a really disturbed night and little sleep my spirits were lifted by the visit from a very curious water vole, who managed to limbo under my rods a lot more carefully than his neighbouring moor hens.

By midday Thursday my pack up was well under way, and as always I prey for one more fish to end the session on before that reluctant, yet inevitable last reel in. The carp gods obliged on this last cast, at 12.30pm the LH churned off line steady and I was in again. This one was a proper psycho fish, and he led me a merry old dance in and out of the marginal weed. Even on the mat he still had plenty of energy left, which made self-timer photography a challenge! At 18lb 4oz this ‘last gasp’ fish was a perfect end to a very enjoyable 48hrs. I returned to Canterbury totally knackered, but at least my ear holes got some respite!

Happy hippo hunting

Niblet

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