When winter become spring

After last weeks giant pike shennagins we decided to return to the local farmers ponds to see if we could prise the predator from his hiding place. But where as last weeks journey had seen a dark and windy February day, today we were greeted by warm sunshine. The bright sunshine seemed to affect the big perch who were consipicous by their absence but in turn the local carp seemed to wake from their winter slumber.

The morning was very quiet with no real bites on the float and our live baits remained untouched as the local pike slumbered. As the hours passed it became clear that a blank was on the cards so we packed up and moved over to the other pond. This pond is more heavily stocked with a good head of Bream in the 1-3lb range and resident Tench, Carp, Rudd and Perch. The lack of Pike mean that the fish are more numerous but maybe do not quite grow to the same proportions as on the first pond.

After packing up our Pike gear we float fished maggot, hoping to catch a few Bream and Roach. But as the sun heated the water and the odd bream found the net the water began to stir as larger fish entered the swim. Dave was first into a good fish, but just as it began to move up from the bottom it slipped the hook, leaving us with a fleeting glimpse of a very good tench. A few minutes later and my float slid slowly to the slowly to the left, almost crucian like in its' delicate nature. However my strike was met with a ploughing run as 3lb line stripped off my centrepin. At this point I realised I was seriously undergunned with my Roach rod not really the best tool to stop a rampaging carp. 

But the knowledge I have gained from watching fellow anglers play fish over the past 18 months made the difference. After a few hairy moments and some expert net work from Dave a small bullish carp of 7lb 8 was  soon returned to the water. This pattern of events repeated themselves over the course of the day with a steady succession of Bream and Carp (sadly no tench) finding the net,  Dave landed the days best fish, a carp at 9lb.

After the day started in started in such unpromising conditions, the spring sun ended up being the difference between a blank day and a good day.

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.

A dream reborn

Over 15 years ago I gave up the relaxing pastime of fishing for the delights of girls, dance music and city life. The thought of catching a Roach or Tench disappeared from my life entirely to be replaced by hangovers and gaps in my short term memory.

I now find myself a little older (not in any way wiser) and settled down with a great girl who seems to like me despite my obsession with cricket (and my growing dream to catch a Perch). The gaps in my memory remain but a desire to return to the water has started to bloom.

The fire was rekindled when I visited a local pond with my good friend Dave. Dave was confidently reeling in a great selection of Crucian Carp and Roach. I was a excited and willing netman but the size of the fish meant that a net was not really required. However the day seemed different, as if touched by magic.

Memories of childhood days came flooding back to me. Endless sun drenched summer days catching hundreds of suicidal roach that were seemingly incapable of refusing our bait.

After a few hours Dave required some food so I took the rod. As if by magic the float disappeared almost straight away.

I struck.

I ducked.

The float, line, hook and bait flew past my ear.

I sat there confused. Then it occurred to me, some how in the last 15 years I had forgotten how to fish.

After much laughter from Dave, he kindly reminded me how to strike. So when the float dipped for a second time I struck gently and was rewarded with a baby Mirror Carp.

This may not seem much but it was enough to start me on a journey to relearn how to fish. Now all I need to do is buy a rod...