The one that got away
Greetings, minnows! In an effort to prove the Quantum Angler is not just a name, I shall regale you with a fishy tale!
At my local lake, I sat fishing. My rods (for I use two simultaneously) had sat motionless for the past hour, but this was not unusual. Two traps had been set, and now all that remained was to wait. Modern carp fishing is indeed a very lazy branch of the art; we need not even stare at a float, instead electronic bite indicators sound when a fish takes interest in your offerings. So, you see, not even the logistics of trying to catch fish could disturb my relaxation on this sunny afternoon.
That is, until a fish plucked up the courage to sample the delicious snack I had prepared for him. The scream of the bite alarm shattered the peace in my corner of the lake, and I picked up the rod to pull back against the fish. I knew at once from the ferocity of the take that this was not a small fish, and the power I felt at the other end of the line confirmed this. The fish had been hooked close to a bed of reeds, and he knew, as well did I, that he might free himself of the barbless hook if he could bury himself in them. So he instantly darted for the reeds, and I needed all the power of my rod to keep him out. But keep him out I did, and I worked on cajoling the fish into open water. Easier said than done.
By now this fish was revealing himself to be quite a lump. He was going to go where he wanted to go, and he wanted to go into more reeds. Finding another reed bed further down the bank, the fish darted once more, this time penetrating the reeds a few feet so that I could see them quiver as he pushed past. But once again I was able to force him out. One has to be careful playing a large fish such as this. With my feet on solid ground and the leverage of a 12 foot carp rod at my disposal, I was by far the stronger combatant. However the worry for the angler is the hook, which may pull free if too much force is applied. The skill in the fight is thus to gauge just how much force you can apply to steer the fish clear of obstacles - a calculated risk.
A very evenly matched battle of man against beast was taking shape, my only hope was to keep him out of the reeds until he tired - in a battle of endurance man would win every time. The fish now came closer in, in search of a third reed bed. The angle would make this one harder to deal with, but try as I might I still could not control this fish. In my mind I excitedly speculated as to its weight, definitely above 10 lbs, probably closer to 20, maybe more. What a prize it would be to land. This time, however, the fish dove for the reeds with more conviction, and I had no option but to take the risk of applying still more pressure. Unfortunately my luck ran out and the hook pulled free of the fish's mouth. I threw my rod down in frustration. To have been so close, to have beaten the fish twice only to lose the third battle. I thought of the fish, swimming off into the murky depths, chuckling sardonically.
I had still not seen my opponent.
Consolation for this defeat were the prizes of two carp later in the afternoon, one a beautiful Mirror Carp approaching 9 lbs (both of which were of course returned, if you were wondering!)
At my local lake, I sat fishing. My rods (for I use two simultaneously) had sat motionless for the past hour, but this was not unusual. Two traps had been set, and now all that remained was to wait. Modern carp fishing is indeed a very lazy branch of the art; we need not even stare at a float, instead electronic bite indicators sound when a fish takes interest in your offerings. So, you see, not even the logistics of trying to catch fish could disturb my relaxation on this sunny afternoon.
That is, until a fish plucked up the courage to sample the delicious snack I had prepared for him. The scream of the bite alarm shattered the peace in my corner of the lake, and I picked up the rod to pull back against the fish. I knew at once from the ferocity of the take that this was not a small fish, and the power I felt at the other end of the line confirmed this. The fish had been hooked close to a bed of reeds, and he knew, as well did I, that he might free himself of the barbless hook if he could bury himself in them. So he instantly darted for the reeds, and I needed all the power of my rod to keep him out. But keep him out I did, and I worked on cajoling the fish into open water. Easier said than done.
By now this fish was revealing himself to be quite a lump. He was going to go where he wanted to go, and he wanted to go into more reeds. Finding another reed bed further down the bank, the fish darted once more, this time penetrating the reeds a few feet so that I could see them quiver as he pushed past. But once again I was able to force him out. One has to be careful playing a large fish such as this. With my feet on solid ground and the leverage of a 12 foot carp rod at my disposal, I was by far the stronger combatant. However the worry for the angler is the hook, which may pull free if too much force is applied. The skill in the fight is thus to gauge just how much force you can apply to steer the fish clear of obstacles - a calculated risk.
A very evenly matched battle of man against beast was taking shape, my only hope was to keep him out of the reeds until he tired - in a battle of endurance man would win every time. The fish now came closer in, in search of a third reed bed. The angle would make this one harder to deal with, but try as I might I still could not control this fish. In my mind I excitedly speculated as to its weight, definitely above 10 lbs, probably closer to 20, maybe more. What a prize it would be to land. This time, however, the fish dove for the reeds with more conviction, and I had no option but to take the risk of applying still more pressure. Unfortunately my luck ran out and the hook pulled free of the fish's mouth. I threw my rod down in frustration. To have been so close, to have beaten the fish twice only to lose the third battle. I thought of the fish, swimming off into the murky depths, chuckling sardonically.
I had still not seen my opponent.
Consolation for this defeat were the prizes of two carp later in the afternoon, one a beautiful Mirror Carp approaching 9 lbs (both of which were of course returned, if you were wondering!)
posted by Cħarlie at
10:30 am
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