Total Carp Magazine

It was on a chilly December’s evening that I latched into something special. I’m going back a couple of months or so because that was my last taste of action and it was memorable too. As I sat warming my mits on the stove I looked out to the glassy surface of my Cambridgeshire water. Over the past couple of seasons I’ve wanted to add some history to my album – carp with pedigree and ones that could tell me a few stories. I’ve managed to get tickets on two waters that are steeped in history containing carp of my dreams. They’re actually right next to each other too, allowing me to keep my finger on the pulse each and every trip. Should one be busy, I’d always have the option of the other.

The air had a real bite to it, but I was confident because I’d spotted the odd specimen mooching about in the deeper, open water via the boat earlier on in the day. The old, tin boat opened my eyes to the make up of the bottom. Even at this time of year, there were small areas of weed with large silt gullies in between. There was no doubting that they preferred to feed on the choddier spots. I’d experienced this having prebaited on the harder gravel.  The baited patches would often get neglected for days. Possibly a little blatant?

Three choddies were placed in a wide area of open water earlier in the day and I introduced a few pouchfuls of boilies over the top – a mixture of Monster Red and Fusion. I’d just got my hands on a new crimping tool too, so I’d tied up some ultra-tidy choddies with a loop before the swivel. I like maximise the amount of movement on the rig. They were kept short and I presented them on lengths of leadcore. Rather than sandwiching the hook link high up the leader between two beads, I kept it running. That way, it would shoot up the main line on the cast and gently rest on top of any detritus. Hook baits were my trusty White Crabs.

After a couple of hours, the Stow clipped off the line and the tip hooped down. My clutches were fairly tight so I had to be on it in a flash. I was playing an ancient carp, on a lovely, historical venue in the pitch black. It was a stalemate at first as I contended with the carp and the weed. Slowly I pumped it to the surface and after a few last minute lunges she was mine, amongst a huge ball of weed. I wasn’t sure what to expect because there is a head of around 60-70 carp in this lake, as opposed to the other which is harder containing between 25-30 fish – I will be targeting the latter as soon as the weather improves.

I flicked on the headtorch on and peered into the net. I caught the sight of a hefty tail and as I tore through the weed with the fish in the deep margins I noticed the scales of a linear – I had her, the linear of the lake.

I slackened the line off, popped out the arms of the net, rolled down the mesh and transferred her into the weigh sling, while she was still in the water. I do this all the time because it keeps their fins flat and safe. This practise also prevents them from flapping in the sling, where most of the damage occurs.

I hoisted the jet black, scale-perfect linear on the scales and she went 31lb. Over the moon would be an understatement. I went on to catch four that session including a mid twenty, and two other scraper twenties- they were old as the hills and carp I hold close to my heart. These two lakes are very special to me and I can’t wait to return. At this moment in time they’re frozen solid, but I’m just praying that the mild temps will be upon us shortly. For now, I have a few shows coming up at the weekends so if you get the chance pop by the Korda stand and say hi.

Cheers

Jimmy