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Let’s Spend The Night Together

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For my first ever all-night carp session I have been taken to a kidney shaped hole in the ground where, I am reliably informed, there are Carp to thirty pounds, Cats to nearly seventy pounds in a stretch of water barely bigger than my garden!

There are about fifteen or sixteen anglers, each with two or more rods, all with Olive Green Bivvies. As I don’t intend to do this sort of thing regularly I have accepted Micky’s kind offer of a two man tent he got from Tesco. (I am accompanied by my wife who thinks it will be a good experience?). On the box it says “Two Man Tent” £4.97: not to be used in extreme conditions". Once erected it’s half the size of Micky’s bivvy and is bright red!

Nevertheless we have a beautiful evening, watching the stars come into view as darkness falls, a few residual shooting stars from the Pleiades meteor showers; a few bats and loads of line bites.

At midnight the owner of the lake turns up and switches a large industrial generator on which is powering a massive aeration pump twenty yards from our tent! It is expected to run for ten hours! He says he’s sorry but he’s lost a few fish recently to low oxygen levels. The noise and fumes are terrible but we aren’t going to move now so we have a few more drinks and get on with it.

After a few beers the wife and I shuffle off into the tent at about 1.15 and sleep restlessly for a few hours. It’s like sleeping next to Niagara Falls.

Up at 4.30, the guy fishing opposite is putting a fish back. He sees I’m up so he comes round to see if I’ve ‘ad Owt?’; tells me he’s had a 16lb Cat and 37 lb Cat on live bait!

About five o’clock there is a run on Micky’s left hand rod, I move towards it but Micky is just coming out of his bivvy, a bit bleary eyed, and strikes into a small common, caught on a bunch of worms.

That’s about it until I get a run on my pineapple boilie ( you have to remember I don’t DO this sort of fishing), and miss it big time.

The next time my alarm goes off it’s a carp being played by a guy from about five swims away. He has caught it on a match rod and 1lb hooklink. He plays it through several swims including mine setting off my alarms (Micky’s got some weird ‘back-leads’ that keep his line on the bottom!). He plays it for about three quarters of an hour before it inevitably breaks him.

The breakfast is brilliant, as is the Crack, but the fishing isn’t my cup of tea.
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