Nick Helleur From One Extreme...
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I wanted somewhere well off the beaten track so that I could recharge the batteries and get back to real carp angling as it should be, just me and the carp, and I reckoned I knew just such a place
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O N E
Nick Helleur
EXTREME...
From One Extreme...
F R O M
Nick Helleur
Nick Helleur breaks free from the syndicate rat race and gets back to his roots with some real angling on a very hush-hush venue which time has almost forgotten!
A
fter a full season’s fishing on a very busy Oxfordshire syndicate, and having had to endure all the pressures and frustration this style of modern carp fishing has a habit of throwing at you in bucketloads, as soon as the syndicate season drew to a close at the end of March I was more than ready for a return to some proper carp angling far away from the petty and pointless numbers race and the seemingly endless crowds. In fact, after nearly a whole year in Oxford I was in such desperate need of some peace and quiet that I actually turned my attentions elsewhere several weeks before my ticket had run out during what would normally be considered prime time on the lakes. It was obvious I needed to escape the madness. Don’t get me wrong, I’d been fortunate enough to have caught some lovely fish in the past year and met some great lads too, but the negatives of this type of fishing soon started to outweigh the positives, but even so, I wanted to see out the winter before making the great escape. Wherever I chose as an escape it would have to be nearer to
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home as my monthly fuel bill was crippling. time and corpses of small fish around the lake Also, it would preferably be well off the must have stretched a rod length out for the beaten track so that I could recharge the entire perimeter of the lake’s 20-odd acres. batteries and get back to real carp angling It transpired that there had been a major as it should be, just me and the carp, and I bloom of blue-green algae the year of the kill, reckoned I knew just such a place. although back then it was the first lake I’d seen The water I had in mind had been really suffer from it. It appeared that long forgotten by all apart from heavy rains had been the catalyst the members of the resident for a major de-oxygenation and it w e n k sailing club, who were solely this sadly proved to be the I “ concerned with what went beginning of the end for the le ib had incred on above the surface of resident stock. grow to l the reserve lake. The story The following year the a ti n te o p it actually starts many years controlling club gave up g in ak before in the early-’90s. the lease and the water monsters, m ce was closed to all fishing The lake had been taken perfect pla e th over by a local club but had re” and turned into a wildlife suffered a major fish-kill a reserve. I kept a close eye for the futu year later, which had decimated on the lake for survivors the the fish stock and, as far as anyone following summer, but never once knew, everything had been totally saw a carp, despite looking almost daily wiped out. This included all the silver fish, during the prime times. In fact, the only living the bream, tench, eels, carp, even the swans fish I ever saw was a solitary tench of giant and coots had succumbed, literally everything proportions. I’d been sitting atop a big old oak perished! I remember walking around at the for several hours one gloriously warm May morning, with a mild westerly lapping into the margins at the base of the tree, when, out of My last carp from the Oxfordshire the blue, while I stared trance-like down the syndicate and I was more than gravelly marginal shelf, it suddenly waddled scenery. of ready for a change past barely a rod length from the edge. After sitting for so long seeing nothing, I nearly fell out of the tree, I can tell you! I was amazed, after looking so hard for so long, but it showed that at least one fish had survived so perhaps there were more? Being one of the shallowest and obviously one of the richest lakes in the valley I knew it had incredible potential to grow monsters, making it the perfect place for the future, and indeed, for that entire year I could think of little else as around this time I was in my ‘playing carp god’ phase and had introduced a few fish here and there into various lakes where I felt it would be of benefit. Obviously, this was a long time ago and at that time we knew nothing of the dangers of stocking fish. Of course we are much wiser now, and for that reason it is not something I would recommend doing, but of course,
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historically many of today’s top waters and big fish came about because of anglers with foresight who introduced fish with a longterm view. Later that same spring, and with no further fish sightings, I took the decision to start introducing the odd carp from a lake I knew that had lots of small fish coming through, which necessitated the lake being thinned out. I can remember one cold, still, autumn night introducing half a dozen carp – two mirrors and four commons, as I recall – that I’d caught that day, all weighing between 10 and 15lb. I took with me several sacks and laid them out on the floor a little after midnight when I was sure there was no one about and the mission began. I laid the first fish on the bag and folded it over tightly so it couldn’t move before adding the next and so on. Soon I had a sizeable carp Swiss roll, which I then only just squeezed into a large rucksack. With six carp inside, wrapped in wet sacks and weighing the best part of a hundredweight, it was no easy task getting the rucksack onto my back and returning to the car, but soon I was on my way, staggering at a swift pace into the darkness through the trees. Driving at full tilt along the quiet lanes in the early hours I soon arrived at the deserted farm track close to the reserve and cut the engine, coasting down the lane to the lay-by. I was soon over the fence and on my way in the rough direction of the lake, struggling through heavy undergrowth and negotiating another fence before breaking cover a few minutes later and then out across a couple of hundred yards of open ground, all the while looking around, paranoid that someone would see me and scupper my plan, but of course I was alone. I arrived at the water’s edge, breathless, and quickly unwrapped the fish before introducing them one by one to their new home. Two in particular stood out as likely candidates to do well and I clearly remember taking a lingering look at a gorgeous long linear with big scales which, at around 16lb, was to be the biggest I would introduce that year, and a dumpy, fullyscaled of perhaps 10lb, before watching them both fade into the darkness through the thick Canadian that had taken a strong hold on the
As you can see, the water was a little busy, but I kept myself well tucked away, out of sight and out of mind.
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A stunning early spring dawn on my first visit to the reserve.
lake that year. My only regret is that I never took any pictures of these fish because now, more than 15 years later, it would be nice to have a record, but this is something I never did back then, a real shame as some of the small carp we introduced to various waters in and around the valley are now the lake’s big fish, a few being well over 40lb and highly desirable targets that have made many anglers’ dreams come true, so historically it would have been good to document their origins. From memory, I reckon my two friends and I introduced around 20 fish to the reserve that year from two sources, with just over half of these being commons, and the rejuvenation had begun. Both strains of fish were proven growers which we felt would flourish in such rich surroundings as those in the reserve lake. By the time the colder weather came about, my fishing took me elsewhere, and it would be many years before I would return for anything other than the odd walk around to check on my investment, but I left happy in the knowledge that the lake now had the
perfect stock to ensure itself a bright future and I dearly hoped they would be left alone to grow unmolested in their new home. I was confident this would be the case as there is a strict no fishing rule on the reserve and the ever-present local busybody dog walkers and twitchers from the nearby wildlife centre serve to act as unofficial guardians who would immediately alert the rangers or the sailing club to anyone trying to wet a line for fear that they may cause harm to one of the lake’s several hundred resident swans or other rare birds and I guess this would deter those who even considered the odd dabble – but then, why would anyone, after all, they had all died years before, hadn’t they? Now I often thought about the water and the fish and returned occasionally during the intervening years, mainly on warm, sunny days, for a look around but I rarely saw any signs of carp, even though on most days that I visited the sailing boats were out on the lake, which you would have thought would have pushed the fish into the edge from the shallow main body of the lake, however they were always frustratingly difficult to find. This was compounded by the fact that there simply aren’t many climbing trees either close enough
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From One Extreme... Nick Helleur
All plotted up in the copse and I’m met with another superb daybreak.
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The fish was incredibly wide and swam slowly, almost moving in slow motion with its head up and its huge belly hanging down; it was clearly carrying an awful lot of spawn and looked to me to be easily in excess of 40lb
to the water, or tall enough to give a good view out over the lake, as most of these had been heavily pollarded at some point to allow wind to funnel across the water for the benefit of the sailing. Some time around the late-’90s and on a couple of occasions whilst looking in hot weather, I found individual fish sitting up in the lilies in the small bay close to the sailing club, one of these being a low-20 common and the other the small fully-scaled I’d stocked previously. Surprisingly, she didn’t appear to have grown as well as I expected she might have, and in the gin-clear water she looked to be maybe mid-20s. It was good to see her doing well and I left, wondering just how well the others were getting on. Nearly a decade passed in the blink of an eye before I returned in the very early spring
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of 2007, intent on at last having a quiet dabble. Over the previous couple of years I’d kept in touch with local goings-on and had started hearing the odd unsubstantiated rumour about big fish being seen in the lake, which didn’t surprise me one bit because the previous spring I myself had seen a very big, sparsely-scaled mirror that I didn’t recognise, swim beneath me. Without doubt it wasn’t one of my stock fish, so where had it come from? Perhaps it was a survivor from the kill all those years before that I’d somehow missed. Whatever its origins, it was one of the most exciting things I’d seen for a very long time, given the circumstances. The fish was incredibly wide and swam slowly, almost moving in slow motion with its head up and its huge belly hanging down; it was clearly
carrying an awful lot of spawn and looked to me to be easily in excess of 40lb. Struggling to keep pace by its side was a common that seemed to take at least half a dozen fast strokes of its tail to the monster’s one and this seemed to reinforce its incredible stature. This was the first ‘unknown’ I’d seen in a very long time and it left me shaking with excitement. Of course, ‘unknown’ in this game very rarely, if ever, means exactly that, as with all big fish that suddenly turn up there is nearly always some history if you dig deep enough, but knowing this lake as well as I do I was convinced that this fish was unknown in the true sense of the word, and that made it a very highly desirable fish indeed. As you would expect, I started planning in earnest after the first sighting of the ‘unknown’ but as no one had shown the slightest interest in the lake I felt I had all the time in the world, a rare thing in this day and age, and so refreshing. In the end I actually decided to start early the following spring because, as usual, I was already busy elsewhere. I spent several very early morning visits having a plumb about as dawn broke in a bid to identify a likely area to bait in case I caught another glimpse of it. I went to great lengths to guarantee that no one saw me coming or going on my visits, which I enjoyed immensely. As usual, the covert aspect gave the whole job a proper secret mission feel and I made sure no one was any the wiser to my plans by parking in different places and using different access points on each visit. With such a rare and valuable piece of angling at stake I didn’t want to get sussed at any cost, so I told no one what I’d seen at the reserve except my closest friends, who were as excited as I was at the prospect of what lay ahead. With the Country Park Visitor Centre opening at 7.00 a.m. and closing at 7.00 p.m., it was only feasible for me to fish overnight, the almost total lack of overgrown areas anywhere around the margins meaning that hiding the rods
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From One Extreme...
I had to do most of my baiting up at dawn or late at night, away from prying eyes.
Nick Helleur
and staying on to fish in the day once the gates had opened would be foolhardy, due to the ever-present and very nosy dog walkers who, as I previously mentioned, wouldn’t tolerate anglers, full stop. Fishing during the day would, of course, be by far the easiest way to catch the fish once they had been located, but nights it would have to be and I reasoned that as there was no competition from other anglers, the best and easiest way would be to bait one area heavily over a few weeks and drop in on dark when conditions fell right, and this is exactly what I did. Now because of the nature of the lake,
ir “It took a fa t out all while to ge e around midnight and d it was th the bait an d n a amid a freezing cold r u f an ho torrential downpour, best part o , I returned re I arrived in the quiet fo e b lf a ha very lane with a big hit of e th to t, e soaking w e bait with which to set armth of th the table. w e m o lc e w Now, prebaiting with aded off car and he big amounts of bait so ht” into the nig early in the year is a huge
being uniformly shallow and relatively featureless, I knew the fish would soon find the bait and, once they had, they would return continually to graze at will, as a baited spot is everything to fish in this type of water and their daily routine would quickly change and revolve mainly around visiting the spot. I also reasoned that because of the shallow water and the year-round sailing on the lake the fish would be active, regardless of the water temperature, and they would, therefore, be very catchable at any time of the year, so it seemed obvious to start early. After only a couple of early morning recces at the start of February, the following year I had decided on a likely area to bait. With cover nearby in the form of a copse of The mainstay of the baiting approach was to use a trees, I could make good quality bait. I couldn’t decide between the two new baits from Dynamite, so I used a liberal mixture of camp near the both the Spicy Prawn and the Squid and Black Pepper. I lakeside, and early the baited with both the 10 and 15mm freezer baits. following week, at
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leap of faith, but experience has taught me that even with a low stock of fish a surprising amount can be needed to ensure enough remains to keep the fish interested and returning regularly. Admittedly, there were no nuisance species in the lake to take into consideration, but there were a ridiculous number of birds present over the winter that would get through the vast majority of the bait in a short space of time after they had located it, so with this in mind, I’d come prepared with 12 kilos of mixed Dynamite Fresh Fish boilies, and pellets of various sizes. Despite the spot being within catapult range, it still took a fair while to get out all the bait and it was the best part of an hour and a half before I returned, soaking wet, to the very welcome warmth of the car and headed off into the night on the short drive home. Before leaving the swim I had taken the water temperature at the depth of the spot I was baiting, which was still cold at 45 degrees, and also checked to make sure I’d left no clues by way of odd baits lying around in the margins or on the bank in the grass, which was sure to give the game away should anyone be having a look about.
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I left it for six days before I returned, late in the evening once more, with the next hit and so it continued over the next few weeks until I felt the time and the weather were finally right to drop in and fish my first night on the bait. I had been taking the dog for the odd stroll early in the morning once or twice each week and every time I did the spot was alive with birds diving, so I was confident the bait was going and I hoped that the carp also had been getting in on the action. The following day was spent getting everything ready; I tied on fresh baits so that no time would be wasted when I arrived, and loaded all the kit in the car ready. The hours seemed to take forever to pass but eventually it was time, the feeling of expectation was almost too much to bear, but the time had come. The main I kept everything to a gates shut at 7.00 so I left the house a minimum, even tackle. little before 6.00 and set off on the hour’s drive to the lake, around the motorway and down the winding country lanes. see a solitary jogger on the far bank so, seizing I arrived in the lane just as the head ranger the opportunity, I quickly unpacked the rods was getting out of his truck to lock the gates, and after checking the baits and rigs were fine, our paths had crossed many times over the I flicked each in turn out to the mark and laid years so I kept my head down as he passed on them on the floor. The drop seemed much his way out, as without doubt if he had seen harder than I remembered, a good sign, so, after me he would have put two and two together returning to the kit for my buzzers and sticks, I and alerted the gamekeeper. Once I was sure the coast was clear I returned to the car, loaded placed the rods on the rests and after slackening off the lines once more I went to sit on a nearby the barrow in record time and quickly shot bench from where I had a good view over the into the reserve. lake, and as the day turned into night, I drifted I must have been keen because the walk off into thoughts of what may be. took half the time it should have and, leaving A short while later the phone rang, which the barrow hidden in the copse, I emerged to jolted me back to the real world, it was my survey the scene. The lake was flat calm and mate Fat Greg. We joked about this and looked fantastic in the fading light. Looking that for a few minutes, generally taking the around to see if the coast was clear, I could only mickey out of each other, as is our way, when, all of a sudden, one of the rods tore off without warning. “I arrived “Greg, gotta bite, gotta go,” I blurted out s a t s ju as I ran to the rods. e in the lan s Th e savagery of the take had pulled all the a w r nge rods off the rests and as I ran down to the edge, the head ra is truck to h f the offending rod was wedged in some reeds a o t u o g gettin s little way down the margin, bent round at full s, our path te a g e th test curve with the clutch absolutely howling. lock s e m
d many ti had crosse t ars so I kep e y e th r e v o own as he my head d his way passed on out”
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I’d started off on a Choddy Rig, using the Korda Wide Gape hooks in a Size 6 and bend ing the eye. However, whilst fishing at the reser ve, Korda launched a proper Choddy Hook and I was soon using it to full benefit.
Whatever was on the other end took maybe 30yds of line before I managed to slow it and then the line fell slack momentarily, giving the impression that it was off, before the rod wrenched over once more and another few yards of line were ripped off the spool. The fight was bizarre and erratic, and typical of a semi-wild carp that had seldom, if ever, felt a hook before. Luckily, the ferocious first few minutes of the fight tired my unseen adversary fairly quickly and, in a last ditch attempt to escape, it kited into the edge faster than I could keep up with it and snagged me under a marginal bush where I luckily managed to wade down and slip the net under it before the water exploded. “Too late for all that,” I taunted. “I’ve got ya.” Back on the bank I laid out the unhooking mat and squelched back in soaked shoes to bring ashore my prize. Pulling back the mesh revealed a lovely mirror that looked all of 30lb, and so it proved, the capture made all the more special as I’d never laid eyes on him before, and I wondered if Whenever possible I travelled really light anyone else ever had either. and just kipped out under the stars. Like a dog waiting by his dinner
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From One Extreme...
As I switched on the headtorch there was a commotion in the net and a long, dark common looked back at me with a beady eye – I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me!
the headtorch there was a commotion in the net and a long, dark common looked back at me with a beady eye – I don’t know who was more surprised, him or me! At 28lb he was most welcome and from his distinctive shape I was certain he was one of my stockies. After taking a snap of him on the mat for the record, I carried him a few hundred yards down the lake and released him in a small snaggy bay where I was sure he would sit and sulk, before I returned to sort out the rod once more and get back to my warm bed out of the crisp night that by now had me chilled to the bone. I awoke to the alarm just as the first signs of day showed on the horizon and began packing down straightaway, leaving the pictures till the very end. With the kit loaded on the barrow and stashed out of
sight, I set up the tripod and got some selftakes of the mirror before returning him and watching him swim slowly away. As he sulked off out of sight I could only guess where he’d come from and could only think that he must have been a survivor from the fish-kill, as unlikely as it seemed. I left for the car just as the first of the morning’s birdwatchers appeared in the distance. As I walked off down the path by the river I glanced back over my shoulder across a totally empty lake with the mist rising, truly an atmospheric scene and I smiled to myself. Soon enough I was enjoying the warmth of the heater as I made my way home, reflecting on one of the most enjoyable and rewarding night’s angling I could remember for a long time, and already planning my next night in pursuit of the unknown mirror. NH
Nick Helleur
bowl, he’d obviously been on the spot as I’d cast out and I couldn’t help but imagine what else had been with him as he took that fateful mouthful. Soon enough I had him bagged up for a picture at first light and then I set about sorting the carnage left in its wake. Half an hour later the rod was back out and I returned to my kit for a jacket and hat as it was chilly, to say the least. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and it was clear that, like the previous few nights, the temperature would soon plummet to freezing, so I shot back to the car for some dry shoes and socks. Once back to the rods I stayed up for a further hour or so before the cold forced me to bed and I lay there, content that the hard work over the previous few weeks had paid off already, and I soon drifted off. I awoke some time in the early hours to a short burst of bleeps and peered out to the rods from beneath the bag. One of the indicators was tight against the rod so I got out to investigate. It was clear as soon as I tightened up to it that there was something on the end so I slowly cranked in whatever it was. In the dark I could make out something on the surface a few yards away so I leant forward and pulled it over the net. To be honest, I thought it must be a bird as, unlike the mirror, it put up no fight whatsoever, but as I switched on
Get your copy of Carpworld next month and follow Nick’s story as his quest for the unknown mirror continues!
After all the preparation, I dropped in for my first night and was rewarded with this awesome, unnamed and unknown creature at a touch over 30lb.
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