Glorious June has been more like April Showers lately and after being treated to a heavy downpour at another local pond last week, I decided that with a dry evening in prospect, a brief visit to my nearest and dearest, Allsmoor Pond, was more likely to provide some action on the bread punch. Tackled up by 7 pm, I was once again hoping to find some crucian carp feeding, after feeding a few balls of strawberry flavoured ground bait into an area eight to ten metres out, mid way towards the lily bed ahead of me.

Usually the surface at this time of year the surface is ringed by small rudd topping, but today it was clear of fish and bubbles. Maybe the earlier showers had cooled the surface, putting the small stuff down. No, they were there alright, just waiting for my bread to fall through. About a dozen two ounce rudd pounced on the bread, despite me bulking the shot close to the hook, but once the groundbait had settled on the bottom, better fish moved in and pushed the scavengers away. These bites were slower and the rudd were better.

I settled down and caught a few more rudd, before the elastic was out of the end of the pole for the first time that evening, as a one pound carp was making for the lily bed, but persuaded to turn by the heavy elastic, the line cutting a V across the surface again toward bushes on my bank. The pole was still fully extended, which helped to keep it away from the roots on my right. Breaking the pole down to the top three, I let the fish swim in decreasing circles, until in range of the landing net. These crucian shaped carp, are now referred to as brown goldfish.

For it’s size, this carp fought like a demon, making runs in every direction, but the next long dithering, float bobbing bite was a sign of something different and the moment that I struck, I knew that I had hooked into my target fish, a crucian carp. An initial short run, turned into a tug of war, with rolls and flapping slides across the surface, while I kept a tight line, as I pulled the pole back to my bank, brief glimpses of gold scales and bright red fins visible as the pound fish stirred up the mud, then flapped on the surface. Landing net it hand, I was ready, when it dived under the net and kept going. The size 14 barbless hook had come out!

The time was getting on and the light was beginning to fade. I was ready for a reviving cup of tea and a custard cream, while I scraped up the last of my ground bait and lobbed it out into the swim.  A pair of small rudd predictably made off with the bait, while a steadier bite brought the elastic out, as a more solid fish hugged the bottom. Not big, the small common followed my lead into the landing net.

Keeping me interested, a smaller brown goldfish took it’s time taking the 10 mm punch of bread, slowly moving away, while submerging the 4 x16 antenna float.

Now in “just one more cast” territory, another long dithering bite produced a small 4 oz crucian carp, lightly hooked in the bottom lip of it’s upturned mouth.

There was no doubting the next bite, which sank the float with the line following it down, while my strike was automatic in the opposite direction against the already extending red elastic. This was a much better carp that accelarated toward the lily bed. I raised the pole and stopped the charge just short of the lillies and the carp broached and turned back, then turned into the nearer snag. The pressure was on again, with the pole taking on an unhealthy looking bend against the carp’s strong survival instinct. It now turned toward the point of least resistance, me, as I rapidly pulled the pole back behind me into the trees, down to the top three sections, with ten feet of elastic still fighting the carp. Now began a tough game of tennis, while the carp rushed from the reeds on my left and the roots on my right, each time countering each change of direction with the pole in my right hand. These are wild carp, not like pampered commercial fish, that know that they will give a bit of a fight, before being put in a net, weighed, released and fed again, ready for the next day’s set of anglers. The hook hold held and the three pound common carp was in the net. The hook was firmly in the bottom lip, requiring a push with the disgorger,

Solid Raw Power

There was still enough light to fish, but after this battle, I decided to call it a night. It was quite possible that there were more carp sitting over my groundbait, but they will have to wait for next time. The bread punch had proved itself yet again.

There are some gudgeon in there somewhere, while the lone token crucian is visible, shame about the one that got away!