After the disastrous trip last week, I was keen to return to the lake and start catching carp. The lake had rewarded me with three 30-plus carp last year, so perhaps it was time for some payback.
One of my favorites from last September
This Wednesday, I planned to arrive after lunch as I needed to catch up on my gardening job. I got soaked on Tuesday morning but managed to finish all my work in the sunny afternoon, avoiding any carryover to Wednesday, which would have been bad news for my fishing plans.
I pulled into the entrance around 12:30, giving me ample time to find a suitable swim and get everything organized. Unlike previous sessions, I felt completely lost when it came to choosing the right spot. No matter where I thought was perfect, it seemed to be the wrong choice. I ruled out going near the swim I used last week, despite the strong wind pushing in that direction. I didn’t think I could bear sitting there again if I blanked on the first night. I also hesitated about the double gravel swim, even though it had produced many carp for me last September and October.
The weather looked promising, but I had a major concern that would likely raise some eyebrows among fellow anglers. It was a full moon, and for some inexplicable reason, I just don’t catch when it’s a full moon. I meticulously recorded every carp capture along with weather conditions and moon phases, and the data consistently showed that I struggled during full moons. Perhaps it’s because this lake is so shallow, but even on Meadow Lake, I haven’t had much luck. I could’ve stayed home, but that wouldn’t help me complete my fishing chart.
I rely on the Fish Angler app to record my captures and maintain my trusty Excel spreadsheet to calculate my chances based on previous data. Looking at the numbers, it seemed I had slim to no chance on this trip. Regardless, I stuck to my routine of fishing three nights a week, except for family holidays and other commitments, you never know when the unexpected might happen.
Despite all these uncertainties, I was filled with confidence as I searched for the perfect swim. Unfortunately, I didn’t spot a single carp during my walk around. On the Airfield Lake, carp tend to be quite nomadic and move around the complex, which has been frustrating in the past but is something I’ve learned to anticipate and adapt to.
Eventually, I stumbled upon what I believed would be the perfect swim for the next few nights. I still had issues with my arm and shouldn’t be casting spombs as far as this swim required, but I couldn’t resist. I promised myself it would only be on one rod, but that plan changed when the range rod started producing carp. The other rod would stick to my standard 18 wraps, which was the most comfortable range for me at the moment. If I struggled to keep up with spombing on the range rod or lost confidence in using single hook baits, I had a few backup options to explore. Singles hadn’t been my go-to approach here, but they had proven successful on Meadow Lake in the past.
The weather was certainly in my favor, and as I sat in my bivvy, it looked like perfect carp weather.
The night passed uneventfully, with the wind stronger than expected for most of it. Still, I held onto hope that something might be feeding. Apart from occasional wind-induced single bleeps, there was no action.
It wasn’t until around 5 a.m. that I heard carp activity, but they seemed to be to my right and quite a distance away. By 6 a.m., I was up and brewing coffee, keeping a close eye on the lake. Time was running out for me this year as the coming Sunday marked the start of October, giving me only three more trips before the lake closed for the season. My primary goal was to capture a 30-pounder during this session, but I’d be content with coming close. I’ve been fishing for carp for nearly 40 years, and my passion remains strong, even if I’ve become more relaxed about blanking. It’s a way to vent my frustration, but these days, I find joy in watching others succeed, unlike in the past when I took it less gracefully.
Sitting there, watching the day come to life, I was treated to the sight of a kingfisher perched on my rods at first light. Moments like these are why I love being out here, along with the sound of a heron soaring past. I often forget to take photographs because I’m so engrossed in the experience. Unfortunately, I hadn’t seen any carp yet.
The weather forecast remained favorable, with pressure expected to rise by Saturday. There was some rain predicted overnight, followed by increasing winds during the day. Hopefully, by noon, I would have a solid plan for the upcoming nights.
We experienced a few morning rain showers, making the day feel less warm and more like autumn than summer. Considering the upcoming westerly winds and the fact that I could barely cast my 5oz weight into the silty area beyond the gravel bar, there was no chance of doing so later when the wind changed direction. Even attempting to cast a spomb seemed impossible. My Fish Deeper Page had pointed me to a promising spot to the right, not far from where I had spotted and heard carp earlier in the day. However, this location happened to be right between Chris on the first point and me, potentially causing problems if one of us hooked a carp that decided to zigzag left or right, as they often do in this water. Luckily, we both agreed on the arrangement and were hopeful of getting some bites and successfully landing a fish.
After an unsuccessful spombing session, during which my accuracy seemed to have deserted me, it was clear that I needed to switch to 20mm boilies and either a catapult or a throwing stick. The latter might have contributed to the initial issue with my arm, which wasn’t helpful at all.
I decided to take a break from my swim and help Ian set up his gear before returning to set up my rods before the rain arrived at 5 pm.
Ian arrived around 1430, and I assisted him with his equipment. We chatted while he set up his bivvy and organized his gear. Once he started spombing, I headed back to my swim to prepare my rods for the evening, hoping for a carp or two.
It felt like an eternity, but at 1830, the left-hand rod suddenly came to life. Thankfully, the carp swam away from potential snags and into open water. I silently hoped for no hook pull, and luckily, the fish behaved perfectly, slipping into the waiting net. I breathed a sigh of relief, as it had been a while since my last carp catch, and the memory of the previous hook pull still haunted me. All was well, and I landed a lovely 17lb 14oz Airfield Lake common carp.
After quickly repositioning the rod, the rain arrived as expected. Thankfully, it was relatively light while I played the carp and took some photographs.
The rain persisted throughout the evening but was not as heavy as forecasted. Over the next 24 hours, it was expected to shift from west to north-west and back south again. The drizzle and thick clouds in the morning were a surprise, as the forecast had predicted clear skies and sunshine. It seemed the sun would have to wait.
Around 0900 hrs, Ian came over for a couple of coffees. He hadn’t caught any more fish, and neither had the anglers in the middle lake, despite clear signs of carp activity along the far margins. I finally found the time to replace the braid on both my Spomb and marker rods, a task I had been putting off since April or May. Doing it by the water provided more space and fewer distractions, allowing me to cast and bed in the line properly.
I had been contemplating when to bait up and whether to make any changes, but I decided to stick with the rod that had produced a carp and the newly baited area. Carp can be finicky, and it might take them over 36 hours to return to your swim. With any luck, there would be less angling pressure tonight than there was last night.
At 1230, I decided to bait up, have lunch with Ian, take a walk, catch up with an old syndicate member who was fishing as a guest, and then return to my swim by 1500 hrs to set out the rods, hoping for another evening bite.
The night was noticeably colder, and strangely, it helped me sleep better. When my alarm went off, signaling it was time to pack up, I felt a sense of regret leaving this beautiful place, knowing there were only three trips left before it closed at the end of October for the winter.
Unfortunately, I didn’t spot or hear any carp until I started packing up, and they were huddled against the tree line.
Walking through the woods on the way back
It was just after 0815, and I knew I had a bit of a walk ahead of me as I began to dismantle my kit.
Until next time,
Richard
UK Carp & Coarse Fishing 