In reply to Post #465
But, Dave. I have got a Proper Job, and some Proper Black too!
But, Dave. I have got a Proper Job, and some Proper Black too!
In reply to Post #1
119, 553 views now. I'm pretty chuffed about that. Still got one or two memories left in the bank so watch this space.
119, 553 views now. I'm pretty chuffed about that. Still got one or two memories left in the bank so watch this space.
In reply to Post #467
Plenty in the tank Sir
Plenty in the tank Sir
In reply to Post #1
What do you think your contribution to carp fishing has been Ken?
What do you think your contribution to carp fishing has been Ken?
In reply to Post #468
Simply Lovleh
Simply Lovleh
In reply to Post #469
To quote Cat in Red Dwarf!, "I have brought joy to the world becaus I have abeautiful ass!"
To quote Cat in Red Dwarf!, "I have brought joy to the world becaus I have abeautiful ass!"
In reply to Post #1
Wow ive got some looking and reading here, I may be some time, thanks K.
Wow ive got some looking and reading here, I may be some time, thanks K.
In reply to Post #469
Hi Justin
"What do you think your contribution to carp fishing has been Ken?"
Ha! Pretty sure "legend" covers that
Was reading my 1998 beekay offering only yesterday
Long may you post big fella
Best
Jon
Hi Justin
"What do you think your contribution to carp fishing has been Ken?"
Ha! Pretty sure "legend" covers that
Was reading my 1998 beekay offering only yesterday
Long may you post big fella
Best
Jon
In reply to Post #473
Many thanks (albeit belated ones) for this, Jon.
Many thanks (albeit belated ones) for this, Jon.
In reply to Post #1
Hi Ken,, Sorry for delay in replying, other major distractions. Can't find your messages about the Geoff Kemp rods , so , if you are still interested, please email me . keagem.
Hi Ken,, Sorry for delay in replying, other major distractions. Can't find your messages about the Geoff Kemp rods , so , if you are still interested, please email me . keagem.
In reply to Post #475
PM for you...
PM for you...
In reply to Post #1
MALEON 1997-2001
Is this not the most gorgeous trophy shot? It shows Jay, one of Maleon's bailiffs, with the very first fifty pound carp I had ever seen in the flesh. Up until then I had not realised just how huge a fifty is and if it is as pretty as this one, well, that makes it all the more special. This particular fish figures large in this narrative, so I'll say no more at this point and just leave this here for your viewing pleasure.
The lake once known to us Brits as Maleon, lies not far from the town of Epernay in the Marne Departement of eastern France. An old gravel working, it is one of many that litter the course of the River Marne, and is characterised by it's lurid green water typical of most of the pits in the region. Its richness is also typical of these pits and weed grows profusely in the summer months. The lake is roughly square being about 250m at its widest point and 280 at it's longest. It is full of natural food, mussels, crayfish, daphnia and all the usual invertebrates one would expect to find in a calcium-rich lake and consequently the carp and other coarse fish in the lake do well, thriving on nature's richness. The margins are steep and quickly shelve down to 16-18 feet with some deeper spots along the north bank, aka the Godawful Sodding Railway Bank where twenty to twenty-five feet of water could be found.
In the late 90s the lake was leased by Tim Kay, a Brit ex-pat who had previously owned L'Hermitage fishery on the river Seine. Tim was a bit of a rogue but a loveable one for all that. He had run trips to L'Hermitage and did so again on Maleon. As part of his plan to open up the lake he asked me to come out and do a couple of tuition weeks, so one sunny day in August 1997 I found myself pulling up at the fishing lodge after a tiring and somewhat fraught drive right across France from Roscoff in the west to Epernay the capital of the Champagne region in the east. This pic shows the layout of the lake and the relevant swims that are mentioned throughout this tale.
Over dinner that evening I met up with the gang, six anglers and the Dick the bailiff and a very nice bunch they proved to be. I was not there to fish so much as to help out where needed and sow words of wisdom to all an sundry as required. To be honest this group were pretty well versed on all things carpy but I did my bit, walking around the lake stopping at each occupied swim and chatting to the occupants about fishing, life, the universe and everything. Frankly they were nothing like as inexperienced as Tim had made them out to be; all were perfectly capable anglers. Still, I hoped my tips and advice was not too boring - if it was they were all to polite to say so - and we spent a very pleasant week on the lake. All in all the first week was judged a success (the less said about the second week the better!), and Tim invited me back the following year to repeat the process.
They were a very likeable bunch and all caught carp at some point during the week. Sorry if you are reading this guys but I've forgotten your names...it's an age thing.
This guy I remember well; he and his mate came over from SW Ireland, country Kerry. As it happens in the early 70s Bill and I had spent some very happy weeks in Fenit, Co Kerry, and they knew Jack Godley's bar very well (see earlier posts). That broke the ice nicely and we got on ever so well. They both had very distinct soft Irish accents, typical of the west of Eire and I could hardly understand a word they said. Still, they were good anglers despite having no local carp fishing at home, and they had come loaded for bear. Tins and tins of Guinness, lager and a bottle of Eire's finest, Bushmills Black Bush Single Malt! They spent most of the first couple of days catching carp and the rest of the week enjoying themselves. I enjoyed myself greatly in their company!
MALEON 1997-2001
Is this not the most gorgeous trophy shot? It shows Jay, one of Maleon's bailiffs, with the very first fifty pound carp I had ever seen in the flesh. Up until then I had not realised just how huge a fifty is and if it is as pretty as this one, well, that makes it all the more special. This particular fish figures large in this narrative, so I'll say no more at this point and just leave this here for your viewing pleasure.
The lake once known to us Brits as Maleon, lies not far from the town of Epernay in the Marne Departement of eastern France. An old gravel working, it is one of many that litter the course of the River Marne, and is characterised by it's lurid green water typical of most of the pits in the region. Its richness is also typical of these pits and weed grows profusely in the summer months. The lake is roughly square being about 250m at its widest point and 280 at it's longest. It is full of natural food, mussels, crayfish, daphnia and all the usual invertebrates one would expect to find in a calcium-rich lake and consequently the carp and other coarse fish in the lake do well, thriving on nature's richness. The margins are steep and quickly shelve down to 16-18 feet with some deeper spots along the north bank, aka the Godawful Sodding Railway Bank where twenty to twenty-five feet of water could be found.
In the late 90s the lake was leased by Tim Kay, a Brit ex-pat who had previously owned L'Hermitage fishery on the river Seine. Tim was a bit of a rogue but a loveable one for all that. He had run trips to L'Hermitage and did so again on Maleon. As part of his plan to open up the lake he asked me to come out and do a couple of tuition weeks, so one sunny day in August 1997 I found myself pulling up at the fishing lodge after a tiring and somewhat fraught drive right across France from Roscoff in the west to Epernay the capital of the Champagne region in the east. This pic shows the layout of the lake and the relevant swims that are mentioned throughout this tale.
Over dinner that evening I met up with the gang, six anglers and the Dick the bailiff and a very nice bunch they proved to be. I was not there to fish so much as to help out where needed and sow words of wisdom to all an sundry as required. To be honest this group were pretty well versed on all things carpy but I did my bit, walking around the lake stopping at each occupied swim and chatting to the occupants about fishing, life, the universe and everything. Frankly they were nothing like as inexperienced as Tim had made them out to be; all were perfectly capable anglers. Still, I hoped my tips and advice was not too boring - if it was they were all to polite to say so - and we spent a very pleasant week on the lake. All in all the first week was judged a success (the less said about the second week the better!), and Tim invited me back the following year to repeat the process.
They were a very likeable bunch and all caught carp at some point during the week. Sorry if you are reading this guys but I've forgotten your names...it's an age thing.
This guy I remember well; he and his mate came over from SW Ireland, country Kerry. As it happens in the early 70s Bill and I had spent some very happy weeks in Fenit, Co Kerry, and they knew Jack Godley's bar very well (see earlier posts). That broke the ice nicely and we got on ever so well. They both had very distinct soft Irish accents, typical of the west of Eire and I could hardly understand a word they said. Still, they were good anglers despite having no local carp fishing at home, and they had come loaded for bear. Tins and tins of Guinness, lager and a bottle of Eire's finest, Bushmills Black Bush Single Malt! They spent most of the first couple of days catching carp and the rest of the week enjoying themselves. I enjoyed myself greatly in their company!
In reply to Post #477
I was back at Maleon the following year and this session was a bit of a nightmare. Normally Tim booked a maximum of ten anglers on the coach and frankly this is s about five too many. Still, not my problem and Tim had a team of excellent bailiffs who kept order resolutely. What Tim had omitted to mention to me was that for my first week at the lake he had booked twenty, many of whom were first timers to France and clearly first timers to carp fishing too...No gear and no idea, sums up most of them! They were a bloody nightmare, there only to get pissed and stoned and so on...But enough of that, Ken, just get on with the story.
The site was not exactly salubrious, with a couple of old caravans and a dodgy array of cars in various states of decay. The Lodge, however, was clean and tidy and the warm smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen.
Here's a little background. Go back and take another look at the magnificent mirror that started this story.
It was love at first sight. The first time I saw (that fish on the bank) I fell in madly in love...(and a bag of ten year old shelfies to the first reader to PM me with the name of the book I paraphrase in that sentence).
Don't be silly, I here you cry, how can you fall in love with a fish? Well they say love is blind and I was certainly blinded by that one! At the time she was the largest fish I'd ever seen on the bank and was certainly the most beautiful. In the three subsequent years that fish came out only twice. So my hopes were high that this time I might at last get to lay my hands on her.
Since that first tuition trip in 1997 in the years that followed I did six further trips to Maleon, each time getting to know the lake just a bit more. Combining fishing with the tuition aspect of the trip was a bit limiting but I gradually built up a picture in my mind's eye of the lake. It was clear that the railway bank was favoured by the carp thanks to the overhanging trees that gave cover and a large snag tree in the water where they liked to bask and doze.
However, the access to the railway bank was severely limited with just a narrow path between the two corner swims. There was a stalking swim right in the corner which was a stalker's paradise but was very tight and you could only use one rod in there due to the snags. Next to it was a more open swim with better access to open water so if you wanted to bivvy up and fish three rods that was the swim to be in. It was called Mirror Corner. The Godawful Sodding Railway Line ran a matter of yards from the water's edge, but that didn't seem to faze the carp at all. On the other hand to human ears the almost constant train noise was at times horrendous, but the fact of the matter was that you put up with the noise if you wanted to fish either of these hot swims. The nearby railway station in Epernay was a major hub for goods traffic and there was activity 24/7 in the goods yard and sidings. In addition the main line from Paris to the east saw at least twenty high speed trains a day pass by the two swims. To say it was noisy is putting it very mildly.
This is the stalking swim in the corner. It was very good to me but I knew that few if any anglers took the opportunity to fish single rod down the edge tactics in there as it was thought to be too noisy because of the trains...It wasn't!...more of which in a minute. The trick to fishing that swim was to put the bait in the night before while bivvied up in the next door swim about five yards away. If or when they moved in on the bait you'd hear them swirling on the top as they fed, sometimes crashing out to clear their gills. You could see the lake bed some eight feet down and when you saw that the bait had all gone put a single hookbait in there and then just keep whisper quiet.
I was back at Maleon the following year and this session was a bit of a nightmare. Normally Tim booked a maximum of ten anglers on the coach and frankly this is s about five too many. Still, not my problem and Tim had a team of excellent bailiffs who kept order resolutely. What Tim had omitted to mention to me was that for my first week at the lake he had booked twenty, many of whom were first timers to France and clearly first timers to carp fishing too...No gear and no idea, sums up most of them! They were a bloody nightmare, there only to get pissed and stoned and so on...But enough of that, Ken, just get on with the story.
The site was not exactly salubrious, with a couple of old caravans and a dodgy array of cars in various states of decay. The Lodge, however, was clean and tidy and the warm smell of dinner wafted from the kitchen.
Here's a little background. Go back and take another look at the magnificent mirror that started this story.
It was love at first sight. The first time I saw (that fish on the bank) I fell in madly in love...(and a bag of ten year old shelfies to the first reader to PM me with the name of the book I paraphrase in that sentence).
Don't be silly, I here you cry, how can you fall in love with a fish? Well they say love is blind and I was certainly blinded by that one! At the time she was the largest fish I'd ever seen on the bank and was certainly the most beautiful. In the three subsequent years that fish came out only twice. So my hopes were high that this time I might at last get to lay my hands on her.
Since that first tuition trip in 1997 in the years that followed I did six further trips to Maleon, each time getting to know the lake just a bit more. Combining fishing with the tuition aspect of the trip was a bit limiting but I gradually built up a picture in my mind's eye of the lake. It was clear that the railway bank was favoured by the carp thanks to the overhanging trees that gave cover and a large snag tree in the water where they liked to bask and doze.
However, the access to the railway bank was severely limited with just a narrow path between the two corner swims. There was a stalking swim right in the corner which was a stalker's paradise but was very tight and you could only use one rod in there due to the snags. Next to it was a more open swim with better access to open water so if you wanted to bivvy up and fish three rods that was the swim to be in. It was called Mirror Corner. The Godawful Sodding Railway Line ran a matter of yards from the water's edge, but that didn't seem to faze the carp at all. On the other hand to human ears the almost constant train noise was at times horrendous, but the fact of the matter was that you put up with the noise if you wanted to fish either of these hot swims. The nearby railway station in Epernay was a major hub for goods traffic and there was activity 24/7 in the goods yard and sidings. In addition the main line from Paris to the east saw at least twenty high speed trains a day pass by the two swims. To say it was noisy is putting it very mildly.
This is the stalking swim in the corner. It was very good to me but I knew that few if any anglers took the opportunity to fish single rod down the edge tactics in there as it was thought to be too noisy because of the trains...It wasn't!...more of which in a minute. The trick to fishing that swim was to put the bait in the night before while bivvied up in the next door swim about five yards away. If or when they moved in on the bait you'd hear them swirling on the top as they fed, sometimes crashing out to clear their gills. You could see the lake bed some eight feet down and when you saw that the bait had all gone put a single hookbait in there and then just keep whisper quiet.
In reply to Post #478
And this is a general view along the railway bank looking towards the Gate Swim. The prominent snag tree acted like a magnet to the carp when the sun came out and they were a sight for sore eyes for anyone peering down on them from up the bank by the fence.
These two swims were always the first to go when the draw was made and as I was there to do tuitions rather than fish, I had Hobson's Choice and had not so far managed to fish them. On previous visits I had caught from the Bird Hide swim on the east bank where I managed to land a few. This is my bivvy in the Bird Hide swim.
This poor quality pic shows the Gate Swim from the Lodge Bank.
This is a nice mid-thirty from the Bird Hide swim.
Draw a line across the lake from the Bird Hide to The Corner and you will see that it creates a nice little bay that remains largely undisturbed during the day. The weed grows thick and luxuriant in this bay with nice little holes into which a carefully cast bait could trip up an unwary carp as she drifted between the weed fronds.
There is a shed that sits in The Corner, which is supposed to be a bivvy for your week. At first sight you'd probably think this was nice and cosy but in actual fact it was anything but. The noise when it rained was unbearable, everything flapping about, rain hammering on the roof, seeping in through the door and soaking everything. And the rats! God, the rats were all over the place. This was before I caught Weils in 2005 but it was a blooming miracle I didn't catch it sooner.
I did two trips in The Corner and caught OK but I vowed, never again! The vermin were everywhere, running across your feet, up and down the wood planks that formed the floor of the bivvy and scurrying back and forth in the maze of rat runs beneath the shed.
This is a mid-twenty mirror from The Corner:
One year I went over late in the season staying on after the last party of paying guests had left for the UK. The lake had been moody while the customers had been there but with only myself and the two bailiffs left on the lake, we felt confident that things would pick up. I went in The Corner (last time!), which gives access to the small bay tacked onto the side of the southern bank. The weed in the bay was very thick but it seemed to be stiff with carp but for a while they just wouldn't look at a bait.
And this is a general view along the railway bank looking towards the Gate Swim. The prominent snag tree acted like a magnet to the carp when the sun came out and they were a sight for sore eyes for anyone peering down on them from up the bank by the fence.
These two swims were always the first to go when the draw was made and as I was there to do tuitions rather than fish, I had Hobson's Choice and had not so far managed to fish them. On previous visits I had caught from the Bird Hide swim on the east bank where I managed to land a few. This is my bivvy in the Bird Hide swim.
This poor quality pic shows the Gate Swim from the Lodge Bank.
This is a nice mid-thirty from the Bird Hide swim.
Draw a line across the lake from the Bird Hide to The Corner and you will see that it creates a nice little bay that remains largely undisturbed during the day. The weed grows thick and luxuriant in this bay with nice little holes into which a carefully cast bait could trip up an unwary carp as she drifted between the weed fronds.
There is a shed that sits in The Corner, which is supposed to be a bivvy for your week. At first sight you'd probably think this was nice and cosy but in actual fact it was anything but. The noise when it rained was unbearable, everything flapping about, rain hammering on the roof, seeping in through the door and soaking everything. And the rats! God, the rats were all over the place. This was before I caught Weils in 2005 but it was a blooming miracle I didn't catch it sooner.
I did two trips in The Corner and caught OK but I vowed, never again! The vermin were everywhere, running across your feet, up and down the wood planks that formed the floor of the bivvy and scurrying back and forth in the maze of rat runs beneath the shed.
This is a mid-twenty mirror from The Corner:
One year I went over late in the season staying on after the last party of paying guests had left for the UK. The lake had been moody while the customers had been there but with only myself and the two bailiffs left on the lake, we felt confident that things would pick up. I went in The Corner (last time!), which gives access to the small bay tacked onto the side of the southern bank. The weed in the bay was very thick but it seemed to be stiff with carp but for a while they just wouldn't look at a bait.
In reply to Post #479
Nige, Rich and Jay, the bailiffs, were fishing on the area of the west bank known as Bailiff's Bank and they too were having to be patient. Then the weather changed dramatically. A fairly intense low pressure area swept across the region, pushing away the doldrums-like anti-cyclone that had dominated the weather pattern for ages. It started to rain and blow hard from the south west and like someone had thrown a switch the fish came on hard and strong. In one night we all caught fish and of them all Jay's was by far the biggest, and the most significant as far as my story goes. This is Bailiff's Bank...
...and here's Rich and Nigel with nice mid-thirties from the Bailiff's Beach.. Rich (top) and Nige.
I was lying in my sleeping bag gazing at the water. The rain had stopped but it was chilly and the strong wind made life rather unpleasant. Jay popped his head around the door. “What's the biggest fish you've ever seen on the bank?” He asked me. I told him 46lb. “I've got one bigger than that!” he exclaimed. “It's fifty-three!" He mentioned that it was a fish he'd been after for three years, ever since he first started working as a bailiff at Maleon. In that time it had graced the bank only twice, proof if it were needed that the fish was a bit cute. It came out on average once a year, and between captures it was hardly ever seen in the water.
I was happy for Jay who was a lovely fella, a brilliant bailiff who worked hard for the lake and its clients and equally hard for his fish. When I went round to do the pix I was awe-struck by the full magnificence of the massive creature. I simply had to catch her myself and I immediately promised myself that I would not rest until I did so. I haven't been so driven since I first started serious carp fishing back in the 60s. Simply magnificent.
The months passed; I fished the lake again in late July with moderate success but of the biggie there was no sign. Undaunted I returned home only to hear from Tim Kay that the creature had come out two weeks later at 50lb 4oz. I was happy and sad at the same time; happy to know that she'd survived the winter and the floods that always affect the pit in this part of France, sad to know that the fish had probably made its only mistake of the year and was down in weight to boot. This is that rare visit to the bank to an angler fishing The Corner.
It was late October 2001 and I was back at the lake for another post-season trip with the image of that beautiful fish resting irrevocably at the forefront of my memory. Maybe this time? All the way there during the near 600 mile journey from my home in Cornwall I pictured the lake in my mind's eye. I knew exactly where I wanted to fish, how I would start the session and what I would change if it didn't all pay off. I went over all my aims and strategies in my head, knowing full well what a foolish course of action this is. In all probability the swim would be taken or the fish would be doing a moody.
Nige, Rich and Jay, the bailiffs, were fishing on the area of the west bank known as Bailiff's Bank and they too were having to be patient. Then the weather changed dramatically. A fairly intense low pressure area swept across the region, pushing away the doldrums-like anti-cyclone that had dominated the weather pattern for ages. It started to rain and blow hard from the south west and like someone had thrown a switch the fish came on hard and strong. In one night we all caught fish and of them all Jay's was by far the biggest, and the most significant as far as my story goes. This is Bailiff's Bank...
...and here's Rich and Nigel with nice mid-thirties from the Bailiff's Beach.. Rich (top) and Nige.
I was lying in my sleeping bag gazing at the water. The rain had stopped but it was chilly and the strong wind made life rather unpleasant. Jay popped his head around the door. “What's the biggest fish you've ever seen on the bank?” He asked me. I told him 46lb. “I've got one bigger than that!” he exclaimed. “It's fifty-three!" He mentioned that it was a fish he'd been after for three years, ever since he first started working as a bailiff at Maleon. In that time it had graced the bank only twice, proof if it were needed that the fish was a bit cute. It came out on average once a year, and between captures it was hardly ever seen in the water.
I was happy for Jay who was a lovely fella, a brilliant bailiff who worked hard for the lake and its clients and equally hard for his fish. When I went round to do the pix I was awe-struck by the full magnificence of the massive creature. I simply had to catch her myself and I immediately promised myself that I would not rest until I did so. I haven't been so driven since I first started serious carp fishing back in the 60s. Simply magnificent.
The months passed; I fished the lake again in late July with moderate success but of the biggie there was no sign. Undaunted I returned home only to hear from Tim Kay that the creature had come out two weeks later at 50lb 4oz. I was happy and sad at the same time; happy to know that she'd survived the winter and the floods that always affect the pit in this part of France, sad to know that the fish had probably made its only mistake of the year and was down in weight to boot. This is that rare visit to the bank to an angler fishing The Corner.
It was late October 2001 and I was back at the lake for another post-season trip with the image of that beautiful fish resting irrevocably at the forefront of my memory. Maybe this time? All the way there during the near 600 mile journey from my home in Cornwall I pictured the lake in my mind's eye. I knew exactly where I wanted to fish, how I would start the session and what I would change if it didn't all pay off. I went over all my aims and strategies in my head, knowing full well what a foolish course of action this is. In all probability the swim would be taken or the fish would be doing a moody.