A reminder that no matter how bad things get, fishing will always be there, and also a reminder that positivity and keeping the faith has more power than perhaps anything... make a tea and kick back for a lovely little read from Louis.
What a madness my personal life has been over the past 12 months... I lost my Grandma and Grandad in quick succession, closely followed by my Auntie. If it couldn’t get any worse we sadly lost our little boy Leo in June and just when we were thinking there was a glimpse of sunshine on the horizon, my Gramps passed away. Finally, to put the cherry on the cake, my Dad passed away at the end of October. All of this happened within 12 months. So as you can imagine not a lot of angling had been happening, but it became more real than ever that it wasn't just 'fishing', actually it was so much more than that. Fishing gets your head straight, just you and the outdoors. It’s not just a hobby, it’s an absolute passion that runs through your veins and it certainly helps with your mental well-being.
Last autumn, Rusty and I had another massive 16-night trip booked over the pond. Unfortunately though the trip repeatedly got moved for various reasons and we finally managed to go for six nights in between my Gramps and Dad’s funerals. It was one of those situations where I really didn’t know what to do for the best, but for my head and sanity, I knew I should go. I know for sure my Dad would have been telling me to go if he had still been there. He’s the one who I got the passion for angling from in the first place.
'It was one of those situations where I really didn’t know what to do for the best, but for my head and sanity, I knew I should go. I know for sure my Dad would have been telling me to go if he had still been there. He’s the one who I got the passion for angling from in the first place'
We knew it wasn’t going to be an easy trip due to the horrendous weather and the sheer amount of rain that had fallen and what was continued to fall. We started by shooting to one of our old stomping grounds for a quick night, turning up to find no one there we thought we were on for a winner. How wrong we were! The amount of cold water being pumped in had certainly turned it off, nothing was seen on the echo or heard at night, and so we swiftly jumped in the van looking for the next place to attack. Not knowing where to go, we searched around some potential spring ventures for the day. Bumping into a couple of lads at a nearby lake that told us the goings-on of the region, we finally decided to drive another two hours south.
Arriving at the venue well into the dark, it took a while to decide where to set up and when the decision was made to get the rods out it must have been gone midnight. We sat back with a cup of tea, finally fishing again. Staying at the lake but moving around for a couple of nights to no avail, we decided to pack up before an almighty storm hit. Sitting in the van soaked to the skin, freezing and wondering what the fuck we were doing, the next lake was punched into the SatNav.
'Sitting in the van soaked to the skin, freezing and wondering what the fuck we were doing, the next lake was punched into the SatNav'
Wheels spinning and sliding all over the track, we headed off to the next venue, totally forgetting about the severity of the wind. Pulling up to the next lake the wind was savagely ripping through where we were planning to set off on the boats. We didn’t know how bad it was until it ripped Oscar’s inflatable boat off of the bank and threw it 50 yards up the bank, nearly wiping out a crazy keen pike angler on its travels. To say that 20-minute boat trip to the swim with fully loaded boats got the heart pumping is an understatement... After spending a couple nights there and catching a couple of cricket bat commons, we knew we had to get the hell out of there.
'We knew how hard it was going to be due to the weather, but in the depths of my heart I somehow knew my Dad would help us catch a monster. As superstitious as it sounds, I just knew it!
This brings us to the part where the trip flipped on its head, as I said before we knew how hard it was going to be due to the weather, but in the depths of my heart I somehow knew my Dad would help us catch a monster. As superstitious as it sounds, I just knew it! Being in communication with the lads we had previously met on the trip, an opportunity arose that we couldn’t turn down. An empty lake that we knew that was doing a few fish. So back in the van we got, with our tails between our legs, and off to the final lake of the trip.
With the wind pumping down one end of the lake we set up in a likely-looking zone but unfortunately, the first night was quiet. Scratching our heads again and after seeing a few carp the following morning we knew they had now moved off the back of the wind, so we packed up camp and shifted 200 yards up the bank.
That was to be our final night, properly deflated, but now rubbing our hands together we were finally confident that something could happen. Both of us sat there clock watching, waiting for the alarms to scream, but nothing happened, so after having enough of sitting up in the cold, we eventually got our heads down for some sleep.
Out of the blue, at around 2am we were rudely awakened by a screaming alarm, and I was into our first proper carp. After popping that one in sack ready for photos, we sat down and chilled out with a cup of tea, but no less than five minutes later, another one toner! Sprinting through the mud to pick the rod up and bend into another carp, shortly after, we thankfully had our second carp in the net. Oscar bundled that one into another sack as I walked up to the brollies to tie on another rig and get the rod dropped on the spot again. Just as I lent the blank up against the lip of the brolly, I heard Oscar shout, “Lou, you’re in!!!”. Once again, I sprinted my flabby arse the 50 yards through the mud, down to the rod. As soon as I picked the rod up, it felt slightly different. I just knew it was this chunk we had been waiting for, and it felt I was like reeling in a sandbag from 300 yards. The forearm pump and the burning shoulders from that one are a feeling I’ll never forget. Just a big heavy weight, that typical long-range battle.
As the carp got closer and closer, I still didn’t have the head torch on, but I knew it was a bigger carp, I just didn’t know how big. After having had the leader knot on and off the reel, maybe four or five times, I thought I would never be able to get it in the net. I’ve never had a fish take line off the clutch like that one, it was like playing a tuna. Stripping line in the margins so ferociously it was nearly pulling the rod out of my hand. The clutch was so tight but somehow it still managed to peel the line from the spool, causing that horrendous jerking motion of the rod whilst it was bent in two. After struggling with the fish for about twenty minutes, taking the leader knot on and off the spool, Oscar decided to wade out the 30 yards into the darkness out in the lake to net the unseen carp. I’ve still not seen it at this point, so when it went in I didn’t know what was in the net, but I knew from Oscar’s reaction of “Maaaaaatttteeeee!!!! that’s fucking massive!” that it wasn’t small.
“Maaaaaatttteeeee!!!! that’s fucking massive!”
'That single moment right there, stood in the cold, 30 yards out in the lake, soaking wet, hugging Oscar and looking up at the stars, will stay with me forever'
That single moment right there, stood in the cold, 30 yards out in the lake, soaking wet, hugging Oscar and looking up at the stars, will stay with me forever! Somehow, my old man did that for us! Wanting to transfer it from the net as quick as possible to keep it safe for the photos, we bundled it into the sling and swiftly weighed her. With an almighty bend on the landing net pole, she sprung the scales round to a colossal 64.8lbs. It wasn’t over quite yet. We did end up catching a few more carp that night with Oscar catching a beautiful forty pounder, and so from 2am to 4, we caught a total of six carp. What an ending to such a hard trip. After all the commotion had stopped we sat chewin’ the fat until it got light, drinking tea and smoking roll-ups, talking about our plans for the big spring trip and how the next step would be a 30 kilo carp.
For me, that’s what it’s about... sheer determination, passion and never giving up! The past 12 months have taught me that I need angling more than ever. Especially with a good friend and partner in crime to experience it with. You never forget that kind of trip, they stay with you forever.
'The past 12 months have taught me that I need angling more than ever. Especially with a good friend and partner in crime to experience it with. You never forget that kind of trip, they stay with you forever'