Handsome as ever - Stuart, Wol and Rik
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KEY: Stuart's words are this colour, Rik's words are in black
So where to start? They say a picture paints a thousands words, so let the painter (by way of camera shots) clean his brush and make battle with the canvas!
It's fair to say, all who went were at the very least seasoned anglers awaiting a hopeful week of fishing, but no one expected what was soon to unfold as one of the most memorable fishing adventures to date for all involved. Roll on next year!
Uncle Brett and a view of the water (click for bigger picture)
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There were four of us, Big Rik, Wol, Uncle Brett and myself. We'd decided not to go from Dover and opted from Portsmouth straight into Caen. The ferry trip lasted about 6 hours and ran smoothly along with the John Smiths.
Before this story unfolds (photographs and all) Rik and myself thought that it would be best to write this feature between us with a view (deliberate view) of not missing anything out on the basis that leaving anything out would be absolutely criminal! Without further ado I will pass you over to Big Rik to pick up from his shortcut(s) through the dirt tracks on leaving the port………..Rik?
It wasn't a short-cut, it was deliberate to avoid the traffic jams around Caen.
(and I would have got away with it if you hadn't have blabbed). So other than one quick café stop (what was that you were eating Stu?) we swiftly arrived at the lake, taking the scenic, non direct route around Le Mans, again to avoid all those potential traffic jams (cough).
So with a quick phone call from Jean and agreement that we could be on the lake at noon, we pulled up at the gates of Le Mans, like little boys on Christmas eve, full of excitement, expectation and Milka chocolate.
With Stu and myself fishing together it was best to let Warren and Uncle Brett choose their swims first, with us finding a suitable and productive looking six rod swim in the space left.
Sustenance
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So with swims chosen, it was out with the marker rod to discover a six feet deep featureless bottom in front of us, all the way to the island.
Okay, time to think about an attack plan.
Stu?
Trick number one - send out the baitboat and scan the bottom for fish, features and bottom make-up. Ten minutes in and cough, cough, splutter, splutter goes the baitboat. Yup, it conks out and both Rik and me are rowing towards the island on a mission of retrieve. I'd originally lent the boat to Wol and Cakey (in one piece) but it returned in two, however true to form, Wol did say that if he bent it he would mend it, so all is well.
That's technology for you, the latest and greatest sonar gadgets and there's me and Rik, rowing round the lake, towing the sonar behind us, to ascertain depth and features.
Stuart (click for bigger picture)
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What a view, my fat arse hanging out and Wol capturing the lot on my video camera some 70 yards away and of course adding his own tainted commentary along the way. My video camera gets revenge on Wol, but more about that later.
We're baited up and ready to go for the first night. We decided to get ready to cast out but return first to the lodge for a 'Wol special' BBQ (and a veggie nut-roast for Big Rik). Everyone back at their swim and settled for the first drunken stupor.
The first night passed quietly with a few single beeps and line pulls but nothing materialising for any of us. Up at 6am on the Sunday morning with a large Bacardi and coke ready and waiting for me and a recast and rethink as to why all was so quiet. At 10am we are all back at the cabin with more Bacardi, dark rum and wine and topping up with a full English to get us all set-up for the day. Back to the swims, and cast out with a variety of tactics.
Rik (click for bigger picture)
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We had planned our attack with a view to working smart not hard. The benefit to fishing in pairs is mammoth in that many tactics can be applied. By following our pre-planned tennis court strategy we were able to cover many tactics. By scrutinising the features and shape of the bottom we were able to picture that the margin to the island we were fishing (60 - 70 yards out) was in fact about 2.5 feet deep which dropped to 5.5 - 6ft across a shelf drop of around 15ft wide. We had placed four H-Block markers at the top of the shelf intending to bait tight within the two middle markers and fish 15ft back to the bottom of the shelf with a view of fishing up the shelf throughout the day.
On my left-hand rod I was trying a snowman squid and octopus on top of the heavily baited area of the tennis court, my middle rod had a single NRG over a handful of loose baits and pellet and to my right a Frank Warwick pineapple pop-up.
The added advantage of fishing in pairs is that different baits and rigs can be used over the area to attempt to ascertain the best attack on the day. My right hand rod, over the main bait initially, started as a snowman NRG, with Activ-8 on the middle rod and a roving flouro Frank Warwick pop-up on the left.
Wol (click for bigger picture)
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Sunday lunchtime crept around and Stu's right hand rod suddenly spluttered into life.
Poetically, it went something like this.......
On the first beep Stu tenses, coiled and ready, by the second beep, he had leapt gazelle like to his rods, sweeping the rod majestically over his shoulder, as it arches into its battle curve, as the unseen leviathan thuds and pounds hidden deep in the murky depths.......
Reality check..........
Beep, beep.
“huh?”
“I'd have hit that.”
“huh?”
beep, beep, beeeeeeeeeeeeeepppppp!
Almost dropping his Bacardi and coke, Stu stumbles to his rod, grabs it and strikes in completely the wrong direction, whereupon he meets absolutely no resistance, does some bizarre pirouette that Nuryev would have been proud of.
“Yeah, I'm in,” he says confidently. And he was (click for bigger picture)
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Attempting to regain the evident slack line, Stu continues to sweep the rod low and left and now performs a double toe loop that would have had the judges awarding Robin Cousins perfect sixes across the board.
, trying to sound reasonably professional and adept.
Wol and myself are just gibbering wrecks, laughing so hard that it's difficult to see, let alone think straight. Seeing 19½ stone of relaxed muscle, making a complete fool of himself, will certainly keep me giggling for years to come.
Back to the fish, some plodding under the rod tops, as most big fish do, and swept into the net first time with Wol doing the honours with the video. Unhooked in the net and onto the mat, 37lbs of gorgeous common carp. A PB for Stu, an absolutely stunning fish and an almost unbelievable way to start off our holiday.
Absolute rubbish, there is no way I nearly dropped my Bacardi!
The next fish came the following day to Brett which rolled over the net at 31.5, a pristine Le Mans Common. This monster once more came out to a Frank Warwick Popped up pineapple, which at early glance seemed to be the bait and method to follow. Superb and looking like things were heating up.
Wol again (click for bigger picture)
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Within the hour (like clockwork) my right hand rod screamed off again with a series of beeps and I soon made contact with something a little special and a little solid. Fifteen minutes later I was being photographed holding my new PB, a 42lb Mirror, once more in pristine condition. The winters certainly take good care of the fish in Le Mans, no leeches, no mark-ups and certainly no sign of anything other than fantastically looked-after carp. Well done to Tony and his gang at Le mans for their care and efforts towards their fishery. As long as they can make a wide birth of visitors such as Wol, they will continue to do extremely well, but no doubt Rik will pick that point up later?
My awesome 42-pounder on day three was in fact my last fish of the trip, but certainly banked deep in my memory for many years to come. Brett continued to pick up fish with the following being fooled by his pineapple pop-ups too: a 34lb common, a massive 47lb mirror, an absolute beast of a mirror at 49.5 and a 15lb common. Rik managed to sweep a strong take from his middle rod fishing 'The Source' double snowman and locked horns with a 40lb mirror which of course was well netted and photographed by me along with a 39.02 to the ever reliable FW flouro pineapple.
Wol went on to beat his own personal best with a 31.12 and a 38.4 (of which Rik will now give greater detail). I know what's coming next with regard to the motoring accolades awarded to Warren, so I'll duck out at this point knowing full well that Rik will give a great account.
Uncle Brett again (click for bigger picture)
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The tally: Stu 37, Brett 31.5, Stu 42, Brett 34, Rik 40, Brett 49.5, Wol 31.12, Brett 47, Wol 38.4, Rik 39.02, Brett 15.
Wol's 38-04 mirror, what a beautiful fish, and some stunning photography I might add.
Okay, so time to come clean; we weren't on our rods. Stu and myself were reeled in, but Wol was still fishing and we were about 25 yards from his rods, but he was fishing in open water and none of the takes were screaming off, so we felt pretty safe.
So Wol gets a run.
The usual stuttering beeps and so he takes off for his rods.
When I say 'takes off', what I actually mean is that he looked as if he had picked up a skipping rope and appeared to do some kind of routine that any ten year old girl would have been very proud of in the school playground.
What was even funnier, was that he managed to injure himself whilst doing it and walked with a hobble for the next three days.
So here we are, at the end of our story, oh no I almost forgot, Wol, drunken bum………..
So how did it happen?
He went back to the lodge and then decided to drive back around to our swim and then to turn his car around and park it on the side of the track. What he managed to do was park it half way into the ditch and bushes on the side.
Not content with that, he then decided to attempt to get it out of there and proceeded to dump it fully down a 15ft drop, with only a 3ft French fence post stopping it from toppling over.
All this in the dark.
So the next day he's up bright and early, trying to get the French equivalent of the AA down to the lake. A phone call to the international arm of his English roadside assistance and a Le Mans mechanic, complete with winch enabled low loader, is bumping his way around the lake.
And Wol again - dumped in a ditch
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Sixty minutes of whining winches, puffing, panting and us lot helping out and Wol's car is finally dragged out of the ditch, only for the mechanics lorry to get stuck in the mud.
So off goes the mechanic to find a French farmer, with tractor, to pull the lorry out of the mire.
Unfortunately, Stu caught the whole episode on video, so we'll be able to relive this experience for years to come.
Unfortunately you often hear about how many carp anglers are 'far too competitive' and 'are shy coming forward with constructive praise and encouragement, but I am proud to be able to say that Le Mans March 2004 was an absolutely wonderful experience, with wonderful friends and more importantly a wonderful feeling of warmth and belonging along the way by all involved.
Here's to the next one………..Ebro on tour 2005, a pussy hunters paradise!
Frothey
