World Carp Classic - Offical Global Website
Lake Bolsena 3rd - 9th September 2012
| Stephen Buss - Entry 5 |
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Morning broke with just 24 hours left before the Dane was due back to the Fjord’s, I decided to go for a mooch and left Ben to wake and re-bait. My only port of call was the head bailiffs swim. Walking through the undergrowth scattering squirrels and rabbits my first view of Langman’s was a welcome one and it’s still morning surface being disturbed from the direction of dads swim.
My walking pace quickened as I could see puppa smurf through the lakes tree fringe with his rod bend double and as I came in to view his stern expression turned to a pleasant wide eyed grin. With net in hand and after a couple of minutes morning song the carp was over the top and we both sat chuffed for a second before wetting down the unhooking mat. Looking at his reel I knew the line was the Power Carp sample he had received in the post and gave a knowing nod, with the fish carefully unhooked this Langman’s lump was placed in the sling and the scales bounced ounces into thirties as expected.
Cup of tea o’clock was next on the agenda whilst looking out over Langman’s in somewhat perfect conditions, a cloudy mornings start with nothing more than the odd puff of gentle alpha male wind. I get less time with dad the older I get and after twenty minutes it was agreed that we would rendezvous in the car park and all slope up for full English breckie to kick off the day proper. I returned to the swim and the Viking was still snoring waking only to the sound of the last rod wound in and upon its rest. After a breakfast feast fit for Thor we took a long walk around the ponds and back into our own world of a swim. The baited areas seemed quiet; the water’s surface was void of rolling fish swirls and not even the smallest bubble rose from the depths. Our margin traps had not even seen a sniff but with such little time left on the clock we were to dig in deep and fish until the last minute. The afternoon soon drew into evening and although the float had bobbed under and the quiver tip regularly wrapped round on Powell’s pool the ledgered baits on Sanderson’s sat stubbornly still. I had hoped for at least a take, just one scaley clad price of a mirror carp for our guest but a take as we were amidst packing up from another good night’s sleep saved the day. A wide grin could be seen through the camera lens as I clicked away, I took maybe a dozen shots before a near forty pound fish was returned to a clear Sanderson’s margin.
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