A Session of Highs, Lows, and Learning

There are weeks in carp fishing when everything seems to line up, and others where nothing goes to plan, no matter how hard you try. This session fell somewhere in between—full of excitement, a few golden moments, and some lessons that will stay with me for the next time I return to Airfield Lake.

The Build-Up

The week before, I’d wrapped up a slow-going trip with not much to show for my efforts. My mate Ian, though, had managed a couple of nice carp after I’d left, and he’d also spotted a few milling about in my water. That gave me some confidence—I clearly hadn’t been far off.

Still, what really concerned me as I prepped for this session was the weather. The wind had swung round to the north, which usually spells trouble at this time of year. A cold northerly can kill this area dead, and with autumn knocking on the door, I wasn’t sure how the carp would react. On the flip side, the sun was shining, and with it came a surprising warmth, even with the chill of the breeze.

After a good chat with Ian, weighing up our options, I decided to give the same swim another go before trying the island again. We’d seen a very good fish show over there the previous morning, a big carp that looked very big, even from 300 yards away. I knew the fish were here—it was just a case of proving it by getting one on the bank.

Setting Up

I arrived around lunchtime and wasted no time hauling my gear into position. First job was to get the Frontier bivvy up—rain was on the cards later, and I didn’t fancy setting up in a downpour. With base camp secure, I turned my attention to the water.

The plan was simple: bait up a large area with a mixture of Nutrabaits boilies, soluble boilies, and pellets, hemp. I spombed a decent amount to start with, enough to create a patchy spread that might hold the carp if they passed through.

Tactically, I wanted to fish solid PVA bags, but I quickly ran into a snag. I’d only had large 2 ones made left over from last week, bad prep and when I punched it out, it only just hit the clip, but was close to the mark. Not ideal. Luckily, I’d brought a tub of pellets and a bag with my PVA mesh with me, so I made a note to spend the afternoon tying up plenty more. The forecast said the wind was due to pick up to around 20mph tomorrow, which could make accurate spombing tricky. Better to be prepared.

The First Run

At 1719 hours, just as I was in the middle of preping up my pva bag, the right-hand rod let out a scream. Chaos. Bits of PVA, tubs, and scissors went flying as I dived for the rod.

The carp on the other end felt powerful—dogged, heavy, and with a determination that had it had to stay in open water. After suffering a couple of hook pulls recently, I was more cautious than usual, easing the pressure and playing it steady. The fish kited left, forcing me to shuffle down the bank to keep control.

That’s when the wasps struck.

Unbeknownst to me, I’d pitched myself right beside a nest. Suddenly I was swarmed by buzzing yellow stripes, ducking and weaving with the rod bent double. I had no choice but to hunker down under my other rod to avoid them, all while the carp surged and thrashed out in the lake.

It rolled on the surface some distance out, and my heart leapt—it was a common, and a good one at that. “Please stay on,” I muttered, as the battle dragged on. Eventually, after what felt like forever, the fish tired, and with one final lunge I slipped the net under it. Relief.

A beautiful 24lb 14oz common glistened in the mesh. Not a monster, but a solid carp and exactly what I needed to start the session on the right note.

Second Take

Barely had I got the rod back out when, at 1851 hours, it tore off again. The same rod, the same chaos—still bits of PVA kit strewn about. This one didn’t fight quite as hard, at least not until it hit the margins, where it dug in stubbornly and refused to lift its head.

After a tense tussle, I bundled it into the net—another common, this time 18lb 4oz.

By now, the adrenaline was surging. Two fish in quick succession after a quiet run of blanks—was this the start of a red-letter session?

Another Surprise

Later that evening, at 1943 hours, I wrote in my notes: “Wednesday, wow. That was an amazing start after last week’s slow going. Hopefully a sign of things to come.”

And it did continue. Wednesday at 2206 hours, the left-hand rod finally joined the party. The fish powered down the margin, forcing me into the next swim to net it. Another hard scrap in the deep water, another result—a 22lb 11oz common.

Three carp landed in under 12 hours. The north wind hadn’t killed things off after all.

A Fresh Morning

By dawn on Thursday, the night had passed quietly. No more action, but I woke to a fresh morning of blue skies and a gentle northeast wind rippling across the surface.

Breakfast was a slow affair—I wasn’t in any rush. As I sipped my coffee, I thought about feeding times. So far, the bites had come from mid-afternoon onwards, never in the morning. With that in mind, I planned to top up the swim around 0900–1000 hours, a lull period that seemed safe for spombing.

I didn’t want to ruin my chances by crashing bait in when the carp might be moving, but equally, I needed to keep the spot alive. It’s always a balancing act.

The Final Night

As the sun dipped on my last evening, I sat there brimming with confidence. The swim had already delivered more than I’d hoped for, and I was convinced another bite would come. But carp fishing has a way of keeping you humble.

The rods stayed silent. Only two single bleeps broke the night, and I suspect those were liners rather than feeding fish.

By packing-up time the next morning, I was left slightly deflated. Still, three carp on the bank was nothing to grumble about. It just felt like more should have happened. Maybe the increasing wind had pushed the fish off me. Maybe I should have been brave enough to move onto the back of it. Hindsight is always clearer than the moment.

Looking Ahead

As I broke camp, I thought about bait. I’d been meaning to reintroduce particle fishing back into my approach. Years ago, I’d done well with particles, but with suppliers drying up, I’d drifted away from them. Recently, though, I’d been in touch with a new local company—Jurassic Particle—who seemed both reliable and reasonably priced. With them only a short drive from home, I wouldn’t have to fork out for delivery costs, which meant more bait for the same money.

I planned to pop over and see them on the way back, have a chat with Neil, and maybe line up some bait for the weeks ahead. Particles can be a game-changer when used right, and with Airfield Lake closing at the end of October, I wanted every edge I could get.

Reflections

Fishing is never just about the numbers. Yes, three fish was a good return, but the session gave me far more than that. It was about adapting to the wind, managing the chaos of wasps mid-battle, trusting in my swim selection, and learning once again how quickly things can change.

One moment you’re doubting everything, worrying about the north wind, second-guessing your baiting strategy. The next, you’re up to your knees in action, landing carp after carp in quick succession. That’s the beauty of it.

I packed away with a smile, already thinking ahead to my next chance. Would I try the island swim where that big fish had shown? Or stick with the one that had already delivered? Time would tell.

Until next time,
Richard

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