FL02 PDF (212pp) - Page 205



Making The Most Of It
of my raked-out channel I piled on the
pressure and lead them through the
gap and into the waiting net.
The situation was far from perfect,
though. I was limited to one area that
seemed to produce takes, and my
hard work in hauling aside the weed
would easily flag-up the swim to others. As I said earlier, I had baited here,
then reaped the rewards a couple of
days later but it was really too restrictive. Hence, I made the deal with
myself that, on this last session, I
would fish for carp I had located first
with the big one obviously uppermost
in my thoughts.
The first place to look was the
snaggy bay, of course, and I sat there
in the early morning light for over an
hour before the first promising signs
appeared. As the sun began to get
higher, I could see several dark
shapes weaving between the weed
beds. Then, several sheets of bubbles
dimpled the surface as a fish pushed
through the waving fronds. It was
clear that the weed was bad but I felt
this would assist me in some ways.
I knew from a cut-off earlier in the
year that hooked fish always powered
off towards the exposed metal of the
old cars that littered the far side of the
bay, but having a good drift about in
the boat the previous week I was
unable to see any of this as it was all
covered in solid weed. What I couldn’t
afford to do, was to smash the bay up
with marker floats because the fish
were already there. To this end, I was
tackled up with the chod rig on and
small, one-ounce leads tied on. I
could see from my swim, which was
several feet above the water level, a
couple of clear holes at underarm distance and, on flicking two pop-ups
into these, I felt the satisfying feeling
of the leads touching the bottom. Not
hard ‘donks’ but they went down and
that was the best I was going to ever
get. I introduced a jar of CC Moore’s
Hot Chilli hemp and about a kilo of
whole and broken boilies over the
next couple of hours and sat back
watching the odd fish show out in the
weed, happy that I hadn’t appeared to
have messed it all up.
I had a fair idea that, if I was fortunate to hook anything I’d be out in the
boat, so this was prepared in readiness. A lifejacket and a spare landing
net with a short pole were placed
ready and I mentally marked the locations of the weed beds before the
light was gone. At 3 am the left-hand
rod tore off and I was out of the bag
and on it. As I picked up the rod I
instantly had the feeling it was solid.
Sure enough, nothing moved and my
line was pointing directly into a
clump only a few feet behind where I
(Top) The elusive common as a
farewell.
(Right) Rods out, come on Rick.
FREE LINE 205

Paperturn



Powered by


Full screen Click to read
Paperturn flip book system
Search
Overview
Download as PDF
Print
Shopping cart
Full screen
Exit full screen