The 2026 season is going to be less dramatic with change and more refinement—of approach, mindset, and watercraft. After several seasons of measured adjustment, the trajectory points toward a year where accumulated experience converts into consistent results rather than isolated highlights.
From a tactical standpoint, 2026 will favour a continued shift toward subtlety. Carp will remain highly pressured on most venues, and those willing to fish lighter, quieter, and more deliberately—particularly in the margins and intermediate water—will reap the rewards. Short sessions, carefully chosen swims, and precise baiting will again outperform prolonged campaigns. Observation will remain the primary edge, with time spent watching fish behaviour proving more valuable than time spent behind the rods.
Bait-wise, confidence baits and restrained application will dominate. High-quality boilies, compact PVA presentations, and simple particle applications will be used not to draw fish in from distance, but to capitalise when they are already present. Oils, liquids, and activators will still play a role, but with a focus on solubility and year-round effectiveness rather than heavy attraction. Less bait, applied better, will be the recurring theme.
Water selection in 2026 is likely to become even more critical. Rather than chasing numbers or reputation, success will come from committing to waters that suit a quiet, mobile, margin-focused approach. Smaller lakes, overlooked corners, and unfashionable swims will increasingly produce the most meaningful captures. Big fish will still be caught—but more often through timing and placement than prolonged baiting campaigns.
Mentally, the season should feel calmer and more grounded. Results will matter, but not at the expense of enjoyment. Fishing will continue to be about balance: time on the bank, time away from pressure, and time spent reconnecting with why it all started in the first place. Blanks will be accepted as part of the process, not failures, and captures—when they come—will feel earned.
In short, 2026 is predicted to be a season of quiet confidence. Not louder tactics, not more gear, not more bait—but better decisions, made more often. The kind of year where the memories outweigh the statistics, and where the water, once again, teaches more than it takes.
As 2025 draws to a close, my focus shifts not toward grand reinvention but refinement. The past year has reinforced something I have known for a long time: progress in fishing—and in life—comes from observation, patience, and doing the simple things properly, time and time again. That philosophy will continue to guide me into 2026.
From a fishing perspective, 2026 will be about fishing better, not necessarily more. Shorter, efficient sessions will remain the backbone of my approach, particularly on pressured waters where subtlety and timing matter far more than time spent behind the rods. Margins, close-quarters fishing, and quiet water will continue to hold my attention, especially where carp feel safest and least observed. I have no desire to chase numbers; I remain far more interested in understanding individual waters and the behaviour of the fish that live in them. Tactically, I will continue to refine rather than overhaul.
Proven baiting approaches, high-quality ingredients, and confidence in what I am putting in the lake will always outweigh novelty. I have no interest in excess gear or fashionable shortcuts. If something earns its place in my fishing, it will be because it works consistently, not because it is new.
Away from the bank, 2026 will also see a continued commitment to documenting my fishing properly. The longer-form writing I have been developing is something I intend to push further—capturing not just captures, but context, conditions, mistakes, and thought processes. Fishing stories should reflect reality, not just results, and that honesty is something I value more as time goes on.
In terms of partnerships and brand relationships, my stance remains unchanged. I will only support products and people I genuinely trust and use. Credibility matters, and I have no intention of diluting that for the sake of convenience or exposure.
Ultimately, 2026 is not about chasing milestones. It is about consistency, enjoyment, and staying connected to the reasons I started fishing in the first place. Quiet mornings, considered decisions, time outdoors, and making the most of whatever window I am given. If I can finish the year having fished thoughtfully and written honestly, it will have been a year well spent.
I’ve managed to fit a two-nighter in before Christmas. The weather conditions over these two days are absolutely superb, although it is set to turn colder by Christmas Day. The pressure is currently 1005mb and rising steadily to 1016mb by the time I head home, with a significant jump forecast on Christmas Day up to 1029mb. There’s a small amount of rain pushing through tonight—hopefully not too much, as we’ve already had far more than enough recently. My only real concern is the NE, E, and SE winds that are forecast to blow through the session.
On arrival, I walked around the lake twice and only spotted a single carp show, that was in the next swim along from a day angler who was already set up—sometimes that’s just the way it goes. I headed back to the car, unloaded the Fox barrow, and set off again around the lake. I planned to stop along the north bank, see how I felt, and continue watching the water. Luckily, a couple of carp topped down there, and my mind was made up.
First job was to get the Frontier up before the rain got any heavier, then get the rest of my kit inside and safely out of the damp.
I was in a swim I’d fished before and felt very confident about where I needed to place my baits. I decided to stick with small PVA mesh bags paired with either a pop-up or a small wafter. Over the 48 hours, I planned to rotate these to see which one—or two—the carp were favouring. My setup consisted of a size 4 hook, Ronnie rig style, with a hinged hooklink around eight inches long to cope with the silty lakebed, combined with a 3oz flat distance lead. I may switch to a 2oz lead, but I do generally prefer a heavier lead these days, having had too many issues with lighter leads where carp seem able to shake the hook far too easily.
I was in two minds about getting the chuck-and-dump bait boat out or sticking purely to the bags. After last week’s trip—where the boat didn’t produce a single bite—I decided to stay with the bags, plus one single spomb of Jurassic Particles and Buckwheat, until at least tomorrow morning and see how things developed.
At 15:55hrs, just as I’d finished my food, the middle rod rattled away. I was soon into a lovely 17lb 5oz mirror—more than welcome given the struggles I’d had over my previous two trips.
As early evening drew in, a couple of large carp finally showed themselves. One was at the opposite end of the lake, in an area that looked completely void of carp earlier in the day, despite the cold wind pushing down there—very interesting, and certainly something to think about. The other carp showed in a corner to my right, exactly where they were last week when my mate tried his hardest but only managed a small one.
I was up bright and early, but there had been no action overnight. I was keen to try and catch something in daylight hours, although these fish just haven’t really been playing ball during the day recently, so it felt like it could be a tricky one.
As soon as there was enough light, I was straight outside refreshing all the bags and re-glugging them, just trying to pull a carp into picking up one of my hookbaits.
By 09:30hrs, after seeing four more carp topping down at the south end of the lake, it became clear that I had to move swims. For some reason, I just can’t sit still on this lake. Interestingly, though, I always seem to end up on the south end. Perhaps starting there more often might save me having to move—something to consider for future sessions.
I was fully sorted by 11:30hrs and felt confident I had all three rods on good spots. I’d seen a carp show, which was already an improvement on where I’d been before. I stuck with the bags-only approach for now, although I was tempted to put a kilo of bait out on one rod out of interest, as the fish seemed quite active. I had a few hours to contemplate that option.
As darkness closed in, I decided to leave everything as it was. There were no clear signs of carp, and disturbing the swim so late in the day would likely have been pointless.
At 17:50hrs, the middle rod bobbin gave a couple of bleeps before pulling up tight. I was out of the bivvy like a whippet and instantly connected with a proper lump. It did its best to find the nearest set of dead lilies, moving slowly from one patch to the next, before finally ending up under my rod tip. With other lines out and trees protruding into the lake at water level around six feet out, I had to take my time—but eventually, it was safely in the net.
Wow—that looked nice
24lb 0oz on the nose. No arguments with digital scales
As I re-did the rod, carp were still crashing out in front of me, which gave me confidence that I might well get another bite overnight.
The conditions felt almost perfect through the night, but by morning the carp were topping on the east bank, away from the cold north-easterly wind that had picked up overnight. I was still convinced there were a few fish in front of me, but I’d hoped for some sunshine to help things along. Unfortunately, the cloud cover put paid to that. I decided to give it until around 09:30hrs before starting a slow pack-up. As usual with winter fishing, everything would have to be dried out again at home.
I wasn’t holding my breath for another bite, but you never know. The carp were still active, and that’s always a positive sign.
It wasn’t to be for another one. I’m hoping to get out one more time before the end of the year, although the weather isn’t looking particularly favourable at the moment. We shall have to see.
UK Carp & Coarse Fishing 