Last Knockings

It was Friday the 19th of July 2013 and around 02:00 am my alarm clock awoke me, well I say awoke me I had actually been awake for the last 7 hours since I went to bed. The reason for this insomnia was excitement. In a few hours I would be boarding a ferry and be well on my way to once again returning to France, just over 10 years since the last visit. As a child I had spent nearly every year until I was 16 visiting France with the family and I love the place. The food, the weather, the scenery, the people, the language, the atmosphere and even the smells, like when you walk into a french supermarket and it has the mixed scent of fresh Cantaloupe melon, strong unpasteurized cheese,seafood and fresh bread and pastry products. So to say I was excited would be an understatement, This keenness lead to us (Myself, my friend Barry, and my girlfriend) turning up at the port 2 and a half hours early. My pregnant girl friend sandwiched between 2 excited anglers with Madonna's "Holiday" blaring out was clearly not best pleased with the situation. In 35 degree heat, in a van with no air conditioning she did very well to nearly reach Dijon 569km south of the port of Calais before the inevitable pregnancy and hormonal induced "Mr Hyde" started putting in an appearance. 15 hours, 2 tanks of fuel, 49 Euro in tolls, 2 stone loss in perspiration and the feeling of numbness from the waist down and we arrived at our destination. As we pulled up we were met with an overwhelmingly beautiful lake, really pictures do not do it justice, you have to be there to understand.

Stunning!

Picture from dam wall

Another one to the left of the dam wall

A view from behind the reeds

The willow

The lake is a 14 acre, 300 year old estate lake. It contains 250 fish most of these are around the mid 30 range but it also has a very good head of 40's, 50's and also a couple of 60's. This lake is definitely not a runs water but the rewards are there to be had. To say the conditions didn't look good would be an understatement, the week was forecast as a scorcher, virtually no wind, no cloud and temperatures getting up to 42 degrees. On top of these unfavorable conditions there was another problem, unfortunately due to the floods in France during the spring the stock pond had managed to flood into the main lake and thousands of Carp around the 3lb mark had decided to relocate. Speaking to the anglers from the previous week we would be in for some very frustrating fishing. Only one angler had consistently managed to catch "sizable" fish and the rest had been persistently wiped out by an un-relentlessness army of 3lb Carp (pasties). Never the less we picked our swims with high hopes and the week begun. 24 hours in and we looked like zombies on Ketamine. We had managed about 30 minutes of sleep broken up into 30 second intervals in between recasting, resetting bobbins and unhooking tiny Carp. Even a step up to double 18mm bottom baits and size 4 continental longshank hooks could not keep them from attaching themselves onto our lines.

 Celebrations were to be had on the evening of day 2 as I proposed to my girlfriend and as the alcohol flowed the volume in my swim got louder, so loud that even the army of pasties moved off to a quieter end of the lake. This was not for long, as by the morning I was once again awoken by the familiar sound of a 3lb Carp trying to unplug a 2oz lead out of the silt and very soon I had added another 2 pasties to a growing list even Bob Nudd would be proud of.  At this point I could waffle on explaining how the following few days went but to be honest in the name of keeping things interesting a simple statement of "sunburnt, half cut, match angling" should pretty much give you the idea.

The bench from which my life sentence started after hearing the words "Yes" 

Wading to enable me the room to cast to the tree line to the left (out of picture)

Me with a bucket of bait

As the week moved on I have to confess to not being my normal dedicated Carp angler self, the army of pasties had broken my spirit and the weeks fishing had turned more into a "Brits in Benadorm Holiday". On the day before we left it was decided that one final push would be made to try save us from effectively blanking. I had seen a few fish throughout the week moving in the swim opposite although there were no positive signs they were the size fish we came to France for but hey I had just spent the week "Improving my course fishing" so it must be worth the effort of a move.I discussed my plans to move with Barry and he decided to sit it out in his current swim. We decided that a change of tactics was also worth a shot and we would bait a new patch heavily (25kg of mostly boillie and some pellet) centrally between us and fish either side of it, an all eggs in one basket scenario.

After I had wiped the blood sweat and tears from my face that comes with lugging a weeks worth of gear and a pregnant missis half a mile around a lake in 42 degree heat, I popped out a marker float and found a nice clear central spot between 2 channels of weed. Kindly the owner had offered to row out our barrel of free offerings just before dark and spread it around the marker float so the use of a Spomb was not required.

Dusk on the final evening

Within minutes of the bait going out I had picked up my first pastie and any renewed confidence I had, once again evaporated. I started the ritual again, check hook, check bait, put PVA nugget on, re-clip distance with marker sticks, cast out, hit clip, unclip, sink line, allow time for line to settle, clip on bobbin, switch on alarm. I sat there on the bucket watching the water just waiting for the bobbin to start its pastie dance again but it never materialized, and as the final night drew in I retreated to the bivvy so as not to become mosquito food. At around 2am I had an absolute belter of a run which made me jump out of my skin. I think I actually may have left a small amount of faeces in my underwear, with the combining factors of a week drinking beer and wine, mild sunstroke and rich food, everything was quite loose. I fell out of bed in a daze, a cloud of fart and soiled underwear and finally connected with my first "Proper" Carp of the Holiday. I can't remember the exact details of the fight but I do remember my girl friend bless her had to get up and help me get my waders on so I could net the fish the other side of some thick marginal weed. The fish went into the net and I was over the moon, It wasn't a monster but it was what I would consider a proper fish and saved me from the dreaded blank (although in reality I had actually caught hundreds but not ones I would consider a proper fish). The fish weighed 30lb exactly and was a proper munter but never the less I was happy. I radioed through to Barry and let him know I had finally had one and that the hope was more of the proper fish would be in the area. Barry sounded happy for me but I could also sense a certain amount of pressure in his voice as if he had to catch now for a pride thing. He was still a perfect angling gentleman though and offered to reel his rods in and come round to do the photographs for me. I declined his offer and told him to stay put and leave his rods on the spot in case more fish were having a pig out, because of this I had to call on the services of my tired, woken up mid sleep, hormonal, pregnant girl friend. You could certainly tell that the photographer was in a hurry to get back in bed, the pictures weren't exactly David Bailey material but to be honest I couldn't moan, at least she got up and helped me at all.

The best of the bad pictures 

Morning came round quickly and I was out watching the water just before first light. Around 7:30am a huge patch of bubbles formed over the baited patch, and several large fish started sticking their heads out, this was really going to be cutting it fine as we had to be off by 10 but breakfast was at 9 and essentially we wanted to be packed up before we went for breakfast. I couldn't believe this, all week we had sat there waiting for a scenario like this and now 90 minutes before we had to be off the fish had decided to play ball. As the clock ticked on the other anglers further along the bank had packed up and were passing me with barrows loaded sky high with gear but I was sitting it out right until the last minute. By this point I was also in continuous radio contact with Barry as we paced up and down on the bank, just waiting for one of us to have the run that we knew was coming. Which one of us would it be? This was really tense stuff, it had to happen, the patch resembled a volcanic hot spring by now. Suddenly I saw Barry strike his rod, this was it I thought he was finally in but it was not to be, another last minute pastie had buggered up his plans, at least on one rod. He radioed through to me asking if he should recast the rod back to the patch but I said no, it could spook the fish that were having it and anyway we had 3 rods between us still on it. Barry did however recast this rod just down in the margin, with the belief "you gotta to be in it to win it" most people with only 10 minutes left of fishing time would have simply just packed up the rod. This turned out to be a very good move and before Barry could even get the rod back on the rest he was in again but not with a pastie this time. I saw Barry playing what was clearly a better fish, I instantly reeled both my rods in grabbed the camera and legged it a half mile round. By the time I reached his swim a crowed had gathered and the fish was already in the net, Barry was looking well chuffed and relieved, he had saved himself a blank by literally minutes, it was Last Knockings.

38lb 10oz

This really did finish the holiday off on a high note. It had been a very hard weeks fishing, with between us guests only 3 proper fish being caught. Its worth noting that although by reading this blog it may seem like I have painted quite a bad picture of the fishery (I haven't named it for this reason) and although the fishing was very frustrating at times with all the small fish. The facilities, the food, the stories, the weather, the banter, the wine, the laughs, the lake, the biodiversity and the feeling of being made welcome like your now for a week part of the owners family, it ranks as one of my top holidays ever and subsequently we booked again for next year. Unfortunately I had to drop my place later on due to Family reasons. I should also point out that after our last knocking success using a heavily baited patch tactic, the following weeks anglers continued this to great success landing numerous big fish and very few small fish were caught.

One last look

So whats been happening in my fishing recently? Well there has been a slight delay in me writing this and I've only managed 2 sessions and quick opportunist hour. I should explain what I mean by opportunist hour, it usually means I've gone for a walk round the syndicate, or popped down for a chat and spotted fish activity worth legging it back to the van and slinging a rod out for 30-60 minutes, unless I get the dreaded call saying "where are ya? You only popped down the lake for a walk" in which case that time can be greatly reduced. Anyway the last weekend of October I managed a rare 2 night session. The syndicate had been fishing quite hard with only a couple of fish out in a couple of weeks and things weren't looking particularly promising. I turned up on the Friday afternoon with a guest, we walked the lake but no signs of carp could be seen, in the end we settled with the point swim. This swim is ideal for doubling up in and not only is it central on the lake it offers a variety of depths and features. Nothing was caught on the Friday evening and Saturday morning came round quickly.The usual musical swims took place as the other anglers started moving around the lake but I stayed put. Shortly after 9 several fish started showing in front of me, this was encouraging as the lake had been very quiet and shows had been very far and few between in previous weeks. Throughout the day the fish continued to show in front of me but I couldn't get a pick up. Just before dark the winds increased and started to blow strongly into the South Westerly corner. I had to re-adjust the pegs to ensure the brolly didn't blow away as gusts got up to nearly 45mph. At around 10 o'clock the fish switched on, I got a phone call from my mate Rob telling me he had just had one, 22lb Common, followed quickly by another a 23lb Mirror.

Rob with the 23lb Mirror 

Lez just down the bank from me also was in, the fish were really getting their heads down tonight. Not long after I'd got back into bed and fallen asleep my alarms went into melt down, I played the powerful fish for nearly 10 minutes before managing to land a 29lb Common and the first fish I had played on my new rods. I was very impressed with how the rods performed, powerful but yet so responsive in the tip, and John at http://eatonrodcraft.com/ had done a superb job, i'm still not sure how he managed to supply me with the cheapest quote out of about 10 different rod builders for a custom set of Harrison Torrix's packed full of extra features.

Looking like a right Nod with the head torch still on my head.

Beautifully built Harrison Torrix's

Following this session I attended a birthday fish'in at Suffolk water park and also managed an opportunist hour, both resulted in blanks but that's what keeps us going back for more isn't it, the challenge.

Barry with the only Birthday fish caught from Suffolk Water Park

Rods out on the deck for an opportunist hour 

With the imminent arrival of my little girl now, I expect fishing will go on the back burner for a few months although I will update you as and when I go. For now though I wish you all luck in your fishing and also a Merry Christmas.


Slack Lines

Luke

From The Beginning

So where do you start with the first post of a blog??? Well I will start from the beginning, the beginning of what started as a hobby and grew into an obsession, an obsession that makes you put all other important things in your life to one side and gives you tunnel vision with only one image at the end of it.......Carp. Even with doors hanging off around the house, walls half painted and the persistent nagging from the missis to finish the half arsed DIY jobs you rushed to complete just so you could "go bait up" there is still nothing else that can be thought about other than Carp.

As far back as I can remember I always wanted to go fishing. I remember being in my Grandparents garden one summer and finding a cane, shoe lace and bent nail that barely resembled a hook and putting the lot together to make what I thought was an acceptable rod and end tackle set up, then dunking it in and out of a watering butt truly believing I was going to catch a fish. My Granddad saw me doing this and asked what I was doing and I told him that I was fishing. "Fishing!" my Granddad replied "you're not fishing, the line is too thick and you can't use a bent nail as a hook. Come with me and I'll show you what real fishing gear looks like". I followed him down to his shed and what lay inside was an Aladdin's cave of fishing gear, old tobacco tins filled with lead shot, hundreds of different styles of floats, nets, rods, reals, seat boxes, I was completely sucked in and wanted it all. My Granddad gave me my first rod and reel which consisted of an opaque red fiber glass rod and a closed face Mitchel reel.

Only a few days later I was on my first ever fishing trip. We went to fish the river at a place called Cow Tower in Norwich for whatever came along. I think I had a few Roach and maybe a Skimmer but from that day I had my first hobby.

Cow Tower

For several years after I was happy just fishing for whatever came along, I fished mostly the river but occasionally my Granddad would take me to a lake, places like; Gimingham, and a little lake in Felthorpe that contained loads of Golden Orfe. I still hadn't caught a Carp yet or even knew what one was but I remember turning up at Gimingham lakes one morning and seeing men wearing Army Surplus clothing and fishing from tents. My Granddad is a very sociable character and it would never be uncommon for us to bump into someone he knew. As we approached the army attired anglers one of them called out "watcha Billy". We stood there for a bit whilst my Granddad and the army attired gentleman laughed and joked about times they had spent at work together. As you can imagine at only the age of  7-8 most of what they were talking about went straight over my head until the question I had been waiting for was asked "you had much?". Now I was expecting the army attired man to reply he had several Roach and a few Cocky Ruff like we used to catch, but to my amazement he replied "yeah I've had a 22lb carp". 22lb Carp! What the hell is a Carp I thought? I asked my Granddad and he told me "I'll show you when you're older".

Gimingham Lakes

 "Older" couldn't come quick enough, but before I knew it my first Carp rod and reel was purchased for Christmas and the Summer was upon us. The venue of choice was an invite only syndicate in Bunwell called Fen lakes. Fen lakes was a beautiful complex that consisted of 6 lakes over 11 acres. I spent a lot of time here as a boy/young teenager, I caught my first surface caught Carp here using French bread crust free lined next to a set of lilly pads. I remember seeing the crust bobbing about as the lakes Roach stock descended on it and the pecking started. Suddenly out of nowhere a large set of lips came up and engulfed the crust and the pads erupted. I'm not going to lie and pretend to know how the fight went but I remember catching several other fish that day to around 8lb. That was it, the adrenaline rush that was felt that day were like no other. The rush that turns a hobby into something a little more. The rush that had me dreaming of that days events and wishing away the school days for the weekend to come around to go CARP fishing again. Several years passed and as my skills advanced so did my tackle. I ditched the single Carp rod and reel for a matching set of Northwestern 2 1/2 Tc rods with Shimano 6010 GT reels, combined with a Fox stainless pod and Fox DXR bite alarms. I had saved all my money up from pot washing in local restaurants and bought the complete setup off an old boy who was getting out of Carp fishing. The next item that was bought was a bivvy, this was to make over night fishing trips more comfortable and certainly beat sitting under a brolly all night long like I had been.

The lily pads my first surface caught Carp came from

Fen Lakes

Me with a Fen lakes Carp

My tutor, my hero, my Granddad

As the obsession started to take over I was spending  my time even at school reading Carp magazines and any chance I could get using the internet to look at all things Carpy. I remember one day sitting in an IT lesson and as usual it was spent using search engines to find Carp related sites when I stumbled upon AJ euro carp sessions it was advertising package holidays to France. As I gazed at these huge foreign fish my thoughts were of how much I would love to fish for these beasts, how amazing it would be and how I could smash my PB of 8lb. The more I thought about it the more I wanted to do it but I was only 15 it wouldn't be possible.... would it? I rushed home from school that night armed with a print out from the website which gave the cost, a contact number and most importantly pictures of these massive foreign beasts waiting for capture. I stood in the kitchen with my mother for a bit buttering her up ready to slip in the all important question "Can I go to France........ to fish.....by myself?". To my amazement she thought it was a fantastic idea and a good reward for completing (and failing) my GCSE's, but on the condition I could find someone to go with me and I pay for it myself. Being the proactive guy I am (although some would question this) I had already asked my friend Phil if he would also like to join me on this little adventure and as fate would have it he was also in the process of mother buttering. Minutes later the phone rang and surprisingly enough it was Phil's mother, she wanted to know my mothers thoughts on this and after my mother said she was happy with the arrangement, Phil's mother also agreed (how they came to the conclusion it was a good idea to let two rowdy teenagers who didn't exactly have a reputation for toeing the line to go to France fishing for a week without parental supervision I'll never know). I couldn't believe it, only hours ago it was merely a thought, a dream and now it was actually going to happen, I was ecstatic, but now the real work begun, we both had to work every available hour after school to pay for the trip and the final payment had to be in within 8 months. Those 8 months went surprisingly quick and before we knew it we were on our way to be dropped off at Raylon car park in Dover. As we pulled up there were already a number of weathered camo clothed Carp anglers standing there and I remember feeling nervous and slightly intimidated. We unloaded the car into the trailer and climbed aboard the coach. The intimidation didn't last long and before we even reached the port we were joining in the laughing and joking and the pre-fishing excitement. The lake we were heading to was called La Rassue which consisted of 2 lakes, a 20 acre runs water with the average size fish of low 20's and a smaller 3 acre lake with a low stock but it also contained the complex record fish which went around the 40lb mark. The first few days on the lake went well with both of us landing numerous 20's but what came apparent was the digs the other anglers were making about Phil's fishing gear. Phil had saved up the money to buy one of these full Carp fishing set ups which consisted of 3 rods, 3 reels, 3 bite alarms, 3 hangers, a pod, a net and various other bits and pieces all for a sum of £200 this was rock bottom budget gear but it mattered not as it did the job an Phil was happy. Up at the dinner hut one night the conversation once again turned to Phil's fishing gear and how he would never land a big Carp, if lucky enough to even hook one on his inadequate gear, Phil brushed off the comments and said "we'll see". On day 3 we decided to move off the runs water and move onto the challenging smaller lake next door. We were quite naive and had no perception of the skill that was required to fish a low stocked challenging water. The other anglers thought we were mad, why would 2 "noddy" kids move off the runs water and move onto the challenging water that they weren't even attempting to fish? Their comments fell on deaf ears and 2 head strong noddy kids trundled off to get their rods out. On the second from last day one of Phil's bite alarms with no warning went into meltdown. I was closest so I struck the rod for him and quickly passed the "inadequate" rod over to the "noddy" angler. A short battle followed and I scrabbled down the steep bank almost falling in and netted a deep bodied, high shouldered  mirror, the biggest fish I'd ever seen, in fact the biggest fish the complex had ever seen, it was a new lake record of 42lb 4oz. I will never forget the faces of the other anglers when we went for dinner that night, humble pie was on the menu. It just goes to show the only bit that matters is whats on the last 6 inches of the line, its worth mentioning that the tackle we used was far from advanced. We used 16lb mono straight through fished so tight we could have played a tune on the line, a running non-coated 4oz lead and 12lb black and white supple braid as a hook link which we tied ourselves as a simple knottless knot hair rig which was actually tied up wrong with the braid exiting away from the point.

Phil with the big mirror

Me and Phil have a double take

Phil with another high backed French fish

 The next few years were hard work. I moved onto a local day ticket lake which was considerably harder than the runs waters I was used to fishing and I blanked big time. The more I blanked the more the love for fishing disappeared. It was at this time aged 16-17 I also discovered alcohol, dance music and raves my attention shifted and I no longer got butterflies in my belly when I thought about fishing. Several fish free years passed and I was now in a long term relationship. When the novelty of the days of getting in at 10 in the morning with my ears still ringing and a mouth dryer than an Arabs sandals wore off my thoughts once again turned to Carp. I dusted off the Carp gear and with renewed confidence, I once again headed back out to the local day ticket water that had punished me so badly before. Several blank sessions in and I was struggling again. As I wandered round the lake helping to break up yet another day of blanking I walked onto what was know as the point swim, this swim was very productive and was also the meeting point for many of the regular old boys and through rotation between them was pretty much stitched up 24/7. I sat with them for a while and I moaned about blanking again, I think a few of them took pity on me and they took me under their wing. That day I was introduced to lead core, they showed me how to fish it safely and how to splice it myself. Next I was shown the ever faithful blow back rig and then to top it off they gave me a hand full of their bait to try and told me if I needed more it could be purchased from them for £6 kg. I sat there soaking up this information like a sponge, I felt excited, so I marched back over to my swim head held high and chest puffed out armed to the teeth with not 1 but 3 new secret weapons that was to surely fool any wary Carp. That night I was to land what was my PB at 28lb 8oz a most sought after fish known as the Woodcarving, I no longer felt like a noddy, I felt like a Carp angler once more. Unfortunately I have no pictures of this fish, as they became a victim of a very early digital camera malfunction. I continued to fish this water for several years and did very well for myself landing a large number of 20s and setting a new PB with a fish of 33lb, I also had Cats up to 38lb. Once again as my skills advanced so did the tackle, the fishing became too easy and I actually got bored of catching I needed a new challenge.

My PB of 33lb

My PB Cat at 38lb

26lb

27lb Half Tail

29lb

A Pretty linear

26lb

Head and belly shot

Unknown weight

Unknown Weight

In 2008 I joined my first syndicate, it was an 8 acre water that held a lot of history. It had been a closed shop previously but due to recently being bought out the tickets were now open for anyone to buy. When I purchased my ticket I was told the Lake only contained around 30 old warriors with nearly all of them going over 30 up to 39lb. This turned out to not be the case. The previous season had seen natural causes bump off most of the stock with Mr Otter having a field day with the rest. The actual lakes stock estimated by a few of the members was actually around 6 with a couple of stockies that had been added at the start of the season. This made for some very difficult fishing. It was also around this time that my long term relationship also came to an end, I was unhappy and felt lonely and with this new freedom it was safe to say my heart was certainly not in my fishing. It turned out my heart had migrated south and taken home in my reproductive organ which then went on to lead me in search of  many one night partners. My fishing suffered greatly due to this and even though I still re-joined the same syndicate and moved onto a different lake the year after, very little time was put in and only a few fish graced my net in 3 seasons.

The Syndicate

Stockie

Stockie

Stockie (note date is wrong)

This brings us almost up to date, I have since met the love of my life and we are now expecting our first child, with my feet firmly back on stable ground my thoughts once again turned to Carp and the obsession came creeping back. My friend mentioned he might be able to get me on a small syndicate with a good head of 30's and at least one 40 swimming around, I pestered him regularly to ensure my name was on the list and around April time I received my letter offering me a full ticket........... Happy days. So far this season I've managed 24 fish up to 30lb and hope to still get a few day only sessions  in-between being neck deep in shitty nappies. I will update you when there is a story to be told, its unlikely I will update you on every session but please check back regularly for more up dates. Thank you for taking the time to read my blog and I hope you're not now cursing at the screen and thinking "god he waffles on".

Slack Lines

Luke

The new syndicate

Another one from the syndicate

                                                                                          Crinkle Tail                                                                                                   

The Blind Eye Linear

An Unknown 29

A Pretty 23Lb'er

A 24lb reward for a quick over nighter

Several Moves on a quick 2 hour session on a Sunday evening  finally paid off with this mirror