How a Carp shaped obsession begins

The link between obsessive behaviour and fishing has long since been explored by far greater writers than myself. Anglers have lost their wives, children, jobs and homes to the pursuit of the scaley succubi. However until recently I believed I had the obsession under control, asleep and pacified by my iron like self control.

But then a life changing occurrence altered my life forever and my walls of self control came tumbling down. A year into my return to fishing I took my second trip to a local farm pond to fish for Tench and Perch. Having recently acquainted myself with the joys centrepin fishing I attached some 4lb line and cast my sweetcorn bait towards the centre if the pond. A few minutes passed and my float bobbed gently  from side-to-side as bubbles came to the surface from the from the mystery fish grazing below.

As I adjusted my hat to cover my sun burnt neck the float disappeared below the water and after a brief struggle a small Bream was in my net. The Bream then continued to arrive and depart for the next hour.

Plagued by never ending legions of dustbin lids I gambled on a change of bait to rid me of my tormentors. Choosing the largest lobworm in my pot I cast into the middle of the pond and sat quietly back into my chair. As I looked up my float shot under and I struck expecting another Bream. Instead my rod bent round and then bent round a little more as my float disappeared across the pond at a rate of knots.

Line spun out of my centrepin as the fish headed towards the safety of the submerged roots of a overhanging tree. Applying my thumb as a break to my new pin, praying that my light line did not snap, i manged to bring the run to a halt. The next 45 minutes was a repeat of this course of events with steaming runs and slow circling as the fish toyed with me.

After a while I started to believe that I had gained the upper hand and that victory would be mine. My newly acquired centrepin skill had tired the fish and it slowly came to the surface. Golden scales broke the surface and a double figure Common Carp stared defiantly at me.

I realised in an instant that I had been tricked.

The Carp turned and sped off at at an incredible rate plowing other fish out of it's way. I was powerless, my 4lb line gave up, catastrophe struck.

Looking at my snapped line, my spirit was not as broken as imagined it would be. During the fight I had rated my chances of landing the fish as very low due to my inexperience of playing large fish. But instead of defeat, I tasted hunger. A urge to return stronger and catch the foe who had so comprehensively vanquished me. I know madness lies down this path but at the moment I am powerless to resist.

Two days later I returned with stronger rod and line and captured the brothers and sisters of the golden common carp. But he remains unseen and uncaught and my carp shaped obsession grows by the day.