With Christmas safely negotiated, and just a load of bills to show for it, thoughts inevitably turn back to fishing once we’re into the New Year. I like a round of golf or two in the warmer months, but winter is about carp fishing, especially given the quiet banks. I’d been on a bit of a roll through November and December, but January was to prove altogether more difficult, if no less eventful...


My first trip saw me endure horrific conditions, with winds gusting up to 70mph and on my club water, which is surrounded by wide-open expanses, this is not much fun. Over the course of eight hours I endured a torrid time. At one point I watched in horror as a 20ft-plus conifer uprooted and crashed into the margins just 10 yards or so from where I was sat, huddled in the boot of my car, having turned it round to face the headlights towards the gales. I then watched as something happened that I’d never experienced before – one of my rods was picked clean up by the wind and flung off my alarm and onto the ground. It was replaced, tips fully submerged, and I was forced to engage snag ears on both rods. They still rattled on a few occasions but thankfully stood firm (ish). There were no carp on that trip, although I did get absolutely done up like a kipper by one of the lake’s residents. Having dismissed a shrill tone from my left-hand rod, tucked away in an adjacent swim, as simply the work of the evil wind god, I later went to wind the rod in before packing away. To my horror, the bobbin was jammed in the alarm and the line snaked 10 yards right of where it had been cast – straight at some overhanging branches that dapped the foaming surface of the lake. I’d been well and truly done. Thankfully, I retrieved all of my end tackle, so was happy that the fish had rid itself of my rig safely. One-nil to the carp. This did get me thinking about my tactics, though. I was fishing ultra-slack lines, with fluorocarbon, and I am sure that this cost me more positive indication at the alarm.

My next foray was altogether more eventful as a guest and I had to endure the rantings of one of the yokels, sorry, locals. This guy is one of those blokes with precious little to do with himself except moan, and boy does he moan. He should lobby for it to be included in the Olympics – he’d be a cert for a flat at the athletes’ village in 2012, although they’d have to house him away from any normal people! Anyway, he didn’t like the fact that he and another mate (a perfectly agreeable chap) had hoped to have the lake to themselves, yet they found us there. He rightly pointed out that guests are required to move in next to their assigned member, but the way in which he did it left a little to be desired. I let my decent upbringing prevail and bit my tongue on several occasions, when in fact I had quite fancied giving him a mouthful (punching his lights out). Oh, we blanked, but ‘Victor Meldrew’, as we christened him, nicked a couple out from where my mate was forced to move from. Fair play, he caught them, but he didn’t deserve to...
Anyway, one more blank trip completed my hat trick of outings this year, which have brought me crashing back down to earth. At least there’s February to look forward to, eh!

On a lighter note, as I write this blog I have just returned from a day with Ian Chillcott, shooting a piece on location and feature finding for Ian’s Total Carp series. We went on some cross-country manoeuvres to gain access to a dry gravel pit down near Farnham and got some fascinating shots of a lake before the water, and carp, are introduced. It’s a real eye-opener, even for somebody of Chilly’s experience, and it was one of my best trips out for some time. If you’re interested, the feature begins in the March issue, which goes on sale on February 24th.

Until next time, when I hope to have a carp or two to go with my blog, tight lines and all that...



Marc Coulson

Picture caption (see below): Scambling around a former gravel quarry, shooting pictures for Ian Chillcott's forthcoming feature finding article.