bleeeeeeeeeeeepppppp……………….  My Slumber somehow expectedly interrupted, I glide surefooted across to my rods, Seamlessly slip into my life jacket and lift into the protagonist creating a washing machine in the snags at 140, 5 long strides back and I’m at my Biv entrance, well clear of the fire ants nest and having compensated for line stretch. crank the reel to guide her into open water, I coolly join her by tiptoeing into the newly named “Chunkasaurus” and launch fluidically. I use, said protagonist as an anchor point, swaying the rod left and right, like a flag bearer, bearing down on her following a smooth steady course. Net at hand, and knees protected, the fights over without drama and i coolly set sail (motor) for home, trolling my prize. Well that was how it happened on my final morning for the 5th time………………. The 4 takes prior were anything but like above, You see the problem with taking on a new style of fishing on a new low stocked lake, and with the added variables of boating scoping and it being a good six times larger than my previous syndicate.

It’s bloody hard with a steep learning curve! Having arrived at my Large Colne valley syndicate for the first time with a boat at my disposal, my first choice was where to fish, with no visible signs and 70 acres to find them in. Location was difficult but key. I knew we had the hottest days of the year coming up so had planned (if no visuals) on fishing a swim called the snags, This swim lies opposite the no fishing bank and id imagined the perfect patrol route for them to get into the shallows at the north end of the lake undeterred.

Having watched the water there were no signs of carp, what there was however were the beginnings of what looked like a daphnia bloom, I know from past experiences that fish tend to switch off when the “pea soup” starts to get a hold and the margins seemed least affected which also ticked the “snags swim” box. Having spoken to Z the bailiff he informed me my logic was sound, he also went onto inform me that the “Snags swim” was already occupied by what he termed “fire ants” “red ants don’t bother me” my internal monologue announced but still listened intently as he kindly gave me some “fire ant” 101. Whilst absorbing his info, I watched a couple of fellow anglers glide effortlessly on their boats to their chosen swims, standing up, sea legs primed, as cool as a venetian James bond.

“You might wanna sit down for your first trip, till ya get ya sea legs” Z suggested knowingly.

“ill be reet” I blurted with unjustified confidence.

Now it was my turn. He thankfully and politely vacated as I nervously Loaded the gear into the boat for my first voyage,

Spurred on by pride, I proceeded to try and copy the 007 look, As Z predicted, I zig-zagged embarrassingly until the list put me into Z’s suggested ride position,

I quickly owled my head around, inducing whiplash, scanning the bank for chuckling carpers.

Phewww no one clocked 00egit!,

I decided to stay in my fell posture and sheepishly proceeded to island one to set up. Upon arrival I straight away encountered the bitey bleeders, and they were huge!

However having followed my “101” I was soon set up, ant free, and ready to fish.

This swim had that feeling,

I can’t explain it fully,

A feeling, where you look at your rods and just knowingly ooze confidence.   Meandering across to the far margin with my rod and aquascope, it was clear that the combination of 16 ft of water and daphnia would not allow me to scope effectively. in open water, so Instead I found 3 cleaner spots ranging from 110-140 yards, they spanned over 80 yards from left to right, close in to the snags, After a few head scratching ( what’s the best way to do this moments) I managed to place 2 snowman rigs and 1 tiger nut all tied on to Mugga’s and Sink Skin hook links, close to the underwater features. I added a Covert hook aligner to 2 of my rigs and left the 3rd rig nude as I wanted head to head tests to gauge the effectiveness of these on my rigs, hoping to note any difference in hook holds etc if i was fortunate enough to get a take.. A handful of corn, water-snails and new grange boilies over the snowmen were the baiting approach, and to my credit all 3 rods were done and fishing “scope confirmed” beautifully. Id even graduated, to boating on my knees by this point! I fished all 3 rods locked up and fantastically had a take at 7 am the following morning, I stumbled out of my bed barefoot and jumped on the rod, I struck adrenaline pumping, and felt the resistance of what felt a decent carp ,it had surprisingly come straight out from the snag and ran right, three or four clutch grinding runs later the sickening moment happened, my line lost tension, in a haze of devastation I reeled back a fishless hook and dumped lead, for whatever reason the hook had slipped,

Upon close inspection my doctored point was still as sharp as the moment id submerged it, and the rig that had snared many more before it, had dropped my first Colne valley carp. It was the snowman rig without the aligner that had slipped so I filed it in my rig wallet and put the third rod back out this time with an aligner on it. I realised at this point bare foot and ants don’t mix -WOW between the toes hurts-

11:30 pm that evening my left hand rod screams into action, this time -shoes on- I strike into the night sky.

I’m in a state of shock as a take per session, is considered extremely good going and here’s me, first session in having my second.

Due to the dense surface touching weed, battles are best by boat. Soon enough I realise that trying to retrieve my lifejacket from my biv, and place my net into the boat is not easily done one handed whilst tangling with an angry carp. Thankfully my pal Ash was on hand to support me and after a shaky launch I started to retrieve line drawing myself and the carp to a mutual rendezvous point in the centre of the lake.

With the boat slowly rotating in circles under the pressure of the fight, it was a real challenge to keep my prize directly in front of me, thankfully some weed had slipped down my hydro-sink leader over her eyes had sedated her enough for me to be able to first time to net my first Colne Valley carp.

I slowly towed her in as the adrenaline rush started to subside. First fish, and first boat battle in pitch black conditions had got me super pumped, Just as I got within mooring distance,

My right hand alarm beeped, followed quickly by a double beep, my wide eyes trained on ash’s, and a  one toner followed!

““Hit it, Hit it” I barked. Sure enough he followed instruction.

The next couple of minutes were a blur as I handed him the fish in the net and we traded rods, I re-launched with the second net in the boat getting a lovely boot full of water on the way as I missed the staging in the inky light.

Again I towed myself towards the fish, however this time the weed sedative that id been fortunate enough to have happened last time wasn’t administered and the carp fought like a demon,

The two takes coupled with 15 minutes of fighting whilst spinning in circles had taken its toll on me.

Knees raw and with my body replacing adrenaline with lactic acid was conducive to four missed netting attempts and had me on the verge of a coronary!

I was spent, but finally with my arms limp, and knowing if I missed this time I would have had to lay my rod down.

I thankfully engulfed the fish in the soft outreach mesh and I had my second Colne valley fish in the net.

I towed her in and after half an hour of getting my head together weighed and graphed both fish.

(Look at that shiny sweaty forehaead!)

The first being a 29lb 2 oz original Leney,

And the second a stunning dark 33lb + mirror.

By 1 am i had all 3 rods ready to be re-positioned,, but due to rules about boating at night, (except for fish landing) I set my alarm for 3:30 am to get them out there at first light.

Cutting through the mist was a wonderful experience and by 4:30 am rods were set – This time however, shoes were immediately accessible, net was in boat, life jacket positioned in a suitable position and my unhooking mat lined the base of my boat.

I crawled back into my pit and tried to catch up on some sleep,

Thankfully the carp had other ideas and 6 am I’m awoken to another take, again my right hand rod, I strike and see it hit the surface in the snag. I crank on the reel but my line chases all the way to the snag and I realise that I’m now fighting a branch

I climb into the boat and this time the launch is poetry,

Instead of congratulating myself on my launch however, I choose to berate myself “ I should have walked back, I should have walked back” my monologue repeats as I tow myself across.

The stretch even in flouro at 100 yards plus is around 10 % meaning under tension it’s like giving the carp 10 yards even when locked up.

Another thing I notice is the fixed point of the branch makes me realise that by gently swaying my rod left to right I can keep the boat nice and straight using it as a sort of reverse rudder.

After five minutes untangling my line from the fist bit of the snag i can see that the fish had jumped over the first branch and then gone right under the meat of the snag, I hold the leader tight feeling for tell tale tugs but nothing happens, I get the aquascope out and after a few minutes adjusting my eyes i can see my snowman rig firmly hooked 8 foot down at the back of the snag.

Unable to release it I part the line and slowly boat back to base camp

As you know the story didn’t end there and the final take outlined at the start of this piece was another cracking big pit stunner.

It showed how far i’d come in terms of learning my swim and the nuances that come with boating, It always amazes me how much you can learn each time you go on the bank.

That was 72 hours imagine what I will know after the next trip!

I may even be able to stand up!

Stay Sharp