MARTIN BOWLER REFLECTS ON HIS START TO THE CARP SEASON LAST YEAR, WHICH TURNED OUT TO BE A CLASSIC SPRING SESSION.
MARTIN BOWLER REFLECTS ON HIS START TO THE CARP SEASON LAST YEAR, WHICH TURNED OUT TO BE A CLASSIC SPRING SESSION.
My life as an angler is constantly changing, dictated by the seasons and the fish that choose to feed in these weather windows. It’s this journey and not the pounds and ounces of success that I treasure most, meaning there is never a point in the calendar that I don’t look forward to and last year was no different. These angling memories and moods give anticipation for the future when our next cast will feel better than ever.
The landscape was still scarred by winter and a lack of vegetation revealed trees bare and beaten by the previous month. Above the canopy though, there was hope with blue sky and puffy white clouds – a reminder of why I had loaded the boat and was preparing to set sail for a distant island that would be home overnight. The sun’s strength had yet to change the vista, but I hoped its warming properties were strong enough to tell the carp beneath the surface that it was time to get on the move. It was also the first time that year that I would be sleeping on the bank again, preferring I have to admit the comfort of my van for the winter.
Excited, I pushed the small dingy out onto the lake and now the story had really begun. The quickest route to the island was a straight line but that would mean going over where I would cast so instead, I hugged the margins until I needed to cut back out towards my landing point. Recent heavy rain had turned the bank very muddy but there was a thin green strip beyond the gloop that the boat wedged in which I could call home. I love feeling isolated whether it be a boat at sea or in this case a small mound, just as long as nobody can reach me.
Excited, I pushed the small dingy out onto the lake and now the story had really begun. The quickest route to the island was a straight line but that would mean going over where I would cast so instead, I hugged the margins until I needed to cut back out towards my landing point. Recent heavy rain had turned the bank very muddy but there was a thin green strip beyond the gloop that the boat wedged in which I could call home. I love feeling isolated whether it be a boat at sea or in this case a small mound, just as long as nobody can reach me.
The first task was to offload everything and with very little dry space I pitched the brolly and erected the bed chair immediately. For once the rods were of secondary importance and even when the camp was ready, I took time to survey the scene and asked myself what I wanted to achieve. The answer was simple: just to catch a single carp and reconnect again with one of my favourite species. With this in mind the tactics deployed shouldn’t be gung ho and for once I saw no reason to do anything but cast hookbaits out. If a carp was willing to open its mouth, I wanted a rig to go inside it as well and with 3 rods at my disposal I needed to make a choice. With winning a bite the name of the game, it was difficult to look beyond chods for winning an early season bite. So, two ESP size fives came out of their packet to be fished naked style on 18lb fluorocarbon line. At this point I always have the same quandary – three colours in my tub of Signature Squid pop-ups but which should I pick? Pink produced my biggest ever UK carp of 59lb, so why did I go for yellow and white this time? I wish I could present a tactical reason for the decision but the truth would be more the result of a lucky dip! I also still needed to prepare the third rod and for that I was going with another early season favourite – the zig. The lake had no track record of them working but then again had they been used much? I constructed the rig to fish 12lb Supplex mono and a ESP zig bug three feet under the surface.
With the topography of the lake fairly uniform I opted for the zig to sit in the middle of the lake to maximise passing traffic. One chod would sit at the base of another island to my right and the other three quarters of the way towards the far bank. My logic was a spread of rods, which was the best I could do given my lack of knowledge. Sometimes all you can do is try to put the odds more in your favour and hope for the best with no signs to follow. At least preparation was quick and easy, meaning before very long I could lay back on the bed chair and watch nature begin to wake from its cold weather slumber.
One of the great joys of angling is the observation of the natural world and grebes doing their weed dance were within yards of me. A woodpecker could be heard in the woods, frantically trying to finish its home and the cob swan was even busier defending his territory. None had a care about humanity’s woes and I always find solace by this transportation into their world. For some reason as well, time flies by when I’m alone in nature and before I knew it tea needed to be prepared and the warmth of the sleeping bag called. What better way to fall asleep than to the melodic tone of owls hooting to each other. I was hoping however, that I would wake to something much shriller – the tone of an alarm!
My sedate pace of life on the island wasn’t to change immediately come morning and after a cool night dense fog filled the valley. It was choking the sun and its warming rays but slowly the orange orb began to break free of its grip, providing a beautiful battle for control of the vista in front of me. I enjoyed the scene with a hot cup of coffee in hand and life got even better when the right hand rod tip began to buckle over. I didn’t need the alarm to tell me the yellow pop-up had grabbed a carp’s attention and now it was regretting being so inquisitive. Before line could be taken from the drag, I was standing in the mud and enjoying every second of a fish kiting hard left with me only fully catching up with it when it was in front of me. The scene was perfect as warm and cold weather battled each other as I did the same with the carp. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t big or unusual in any way but what it did signal was significant – the journey had begun once more and my carp season was underway.
So when you return to the bank your first fish will be one of the most special captures in your angling career. The weight will be irrelevant just knowing that you can connect with the underwater world again will be more than enough. In a troubled world this is something to look forward to.
