Top Quality French Carp Fishing

NEW Lake Record caught on 26th. April 2017 at 76lb 15oz

120 -150 different carp of 40lb. or bigger inc. 50+ different 50lb. plus carp

and 14 different 60lb plus carp And 2 known 70lb plus carp.

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Read Iain MacMillans review of his last trip to Moorlands

Chapter Eight - Characters Wot I ‘av Met

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This next couple of sub paragraphs actually happened right in front of my eyes and it is possibly going to be very difficult to do them justice with the written word, but here goes.

During our early years many of our anglers were targeting personal bests in the upper twenties rather than today’s forties and above.

Stuart was one such angler and was over the moon when he landed a twenty eight pound mirror. His capture left him unable to concentrate properly on what he should be doing next so two of us rushed round to help out and do the obligatory trophy photographs.

Once all of these were complete it was time to return the carp to the lake so Stuart carried the unhooking mat, with the carp safely inside, to the edge of the swim. Strangely he didn’t position it so that he was also adjacent to the lake, with the mat to one side, but put it so that to put the fish back he needed to lean over the mat.

This is not totally unusual and is something that I have also done but it does generally mean that you end up kneeling on the mat and getting your knees wet.

Somehow Stuart seemed to want to lean over the mat without kneeling on it. He lifted the fish and gazed at it for one last time before leaning towards the lake while attempting to maintain a “squatting position.”

As if in slow motion, as the fish moved closer to the lake, the centre of balance, of the combination of angler and fish, got totally out of sync.

Eventually the fish dipped into the water and Stuart had passed the point of no return.

As the fish slid back into the lake he seemed unable to let go and followed it back into its home.

As if he had planned it he maintained total composure and grace and slid beneath the surface with barely a ripple.

In fact my overriding memory of the action is seeing the soles of his boots, with his toes still hooked over the swim boards as though he was determined not to get his feet wet.

Obviously the only way to get back out of the lake was to stand up on the lake bed which he did and then re-appeared with strands of weed hanging over his head and coughing out mouthfuls of water.

James and I were in hysterics and despite Stuart’s pleas for us to shut up and help him, the best we could do was to hold our hands up with palms outwards, as if marking “Simply Come Angling,” and chorused “five point seven,” “five point eight.”

Stuart did see the funny side, eventually and after calling us all the bastards imaginable he trudged off to the shower.

Another personal best was the precursor to another soaking.

Steve managed to land his first ever catfish at seventy two pounds and again was over the moon.

Having completed the normal set of pictures we convinced him that he should get into the lake for some “water shots.”

No sooner had we made the suggestion than Steve simply stepped off of the front of the swim as though he was going to walk out onto the surface of the lake.

The water in front of the swims is actually three feet deep so by the time his leading foot had found the lake bed, with his other foot still planted on terra firma, his torso was horizontal and about to enter the water.

There followed an enormous “belly-flop” type splash as Steve disappeared beneath the surface, only to re-emerge completely unfazed and asking for someone to pass him his “moggy”.