FL02 PDF (212pp) - Page 87

Tale of Three Fifties
during the winter months, stopping it
from freezing, and so the fish still fed
like it was summer all year round!
This is no longer the case. I knew the
power plant was not too far away
from my intended destination, stretch
7-8, where the Belgian record used to
reside, and it still had lots of 40lb-plus
fish to mid fifty.
I setup for the night opposite the
power plant and soon fell asleep
knackered from the journey. A couple
of hours later I was awoken by a couple of large transporters no more than
a couple of feet from my bedchair, carrying excavation vehicles on the
back, to the lake directly behind me.
They woke me up, that’s for sure!
Rather tired I packed away, and
then headed off to the nearest post
office to pick up the national rod
licence, a ‘Visvelof’. I then spent the
next couple of hours exploring the
canals in the area for later in the trip
or potential future trips. Then I
headed to the 7-8 stretch and setup
near to the kayak club around half
way along the stretch. I had a lead
around but didn’t find anything of
interest, so I placed each rod on either
margin with a small scattering of
boilies. The temperature was dropping fast with a thick mist rising from
the warm canal. It was soon dark, and
the mist was so thick I could hardly
see my rods. I spent two nights here,
but apart from a small occurrence on
the first morning, which was probably
a bream, I had nothing. It was time to
pack up and move elsewhere before
the weekend crowds arrived.
I headed to the 4-5 stretch, which I
had been informed held two fish in
excess of 50lbs, one mirror and one
common, but there were only around
a dozen fish in total in this tricky onemile stretch of canal. I set up halfway
along the stretch amongst the evergreen trees, and with similar tactics
as before, I placed a rod on either margin with a small scattering of boilies
over each rig. It was looking like
another cold night ahead. There were
only a couple of other anglers on the
stretch that night and a couple
behind me on a private lake. One of
the anglers on the lake popped over
and introduced himself as Jo. He
showed me a few photos of the fish
that reside in this stretch of canal, as I
hadn’t seen any up to this point, and
the photo of the big common he
s h o w e d m e l o o k e d s t u n n i n g. I
thanked him for showing me the photos and the information, and he
headed off home, as he had been
down for a midweek session.
Later I was to find out he thought I
was mad coming over to only do one
or two nights on this particular
stretch, and he was probably right in
all honesty. Eventually it was time to
cook myself some food and then call it
a night, as a hint of frost was on the
leaf covered ground, and it was time
to get myself wrapped up in my
sleeping bag. Also it did get really
dark in that pine forest.
Around 9pm, my right hand alarm
startled me, and I fumbled around in
the dark to find my hiking boots. With
56lb 4oz.


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