simmo315
Last active 1672 days ago
Profile picture
Activity
- Posts
- 888
- Registered
- 12 Apr 2010 21:50
- Last posted
- 1 Jul 2018 10:21
Contact details
- Name
- M*** S******
- Location
- Oxfordshire, England
Last posts from this user
Forum / Thread
Post
Date/Time
Forum: General Carp Discussion
Thread: Scary place when fishing!
12 Nov 2013
@ 10:02am
@ 10:02am
In Sepember I fished with three mates at a 24 acre lake in Central France. The lake is surrounded, on all sides by an ancient oak forest. After dusk it gets absolutely pitch dark in there.
We had had supper together (beef stew and mash) behind my swim and the lads had gone back to their respective swims to get their rods out.
I had tidied up my kitchen area and just put my feet up in my bivvy when all hell broke loose behind my bivvy. A dreadful screaming noise that got louder and louder, it sounded like several terrified women screaming their heads off.
With the hair sticking up on my neck and my Craghoppers filling, I leaped out of my bivvy to see WTF?
It was pitch dark now so I clapped my hands and shouted at the darkness, this did not work, it got closer and even louder.
I grabbed my bright green pen light torch and waved it at the forest. The beam jabbed out into the blackness and really seemed to upset my unwanted guests. The screaming reached fever pitch and there was the sound of shrubbery moving and twigs snapping.
I bounded onto my fishing platform, leapt into my little boat and rowed about 150 yards (much quicker than Sir Redgrave in his prime) to where Ian and Kenny were fishing.
They were stood on the end of their platform with head torches on wondering who was being murdered, the racket had scared them even at that distance away!
We thought about walking around to my swim with lights and large bank sticks to 'Sort Them Out' but instead we stayed put and polished off Kenny's copious supply of French Traditional Cidre. (being terrified is thirsty work)
The noise eased off and eventually ceased. We relaxed a bit and I had to 'Man Up' and row back to my pitch black bivvy in the trees, to the scene of the carnage!
Fortified by another couple of glasses of French Traditional Cidre I am proud to say I did just that. All was silent when I got there. Even a few wafts with the pen torch did not produce a murmer. I crept out of the boat and leapt into my sleeping bag.
In the cold light of day we decided that it was probably a family of foxes fighting over the food scraps in the shrubbery, maybe??
This was a very scary night!
Simmo
We had had supper together (beef stew and mash) behind my swim and the lads had gone back to their respective swims to get their rods out.
I had tidied up my kitchen area and just put my feet up in my bivvy when all hell broke loose behind my bivvy. A dreadful screaming noise that got louder and louder, it sounded like several terrified women screaming their heads off.
With the hair sticking up on my neck and my Craghoppers filling, I leaped out of my bivvy to see WTF?
It was pitch dark now so I clapped my hands and shouted at the darkness, this did not work, it got closer and even louder.
I grabbed my bright green pen light torch and waved it at the forest. The beam jabbed out into the blackness and really seemed to upset my unwanted guests. The screaming reached fever pitch and there was the sound of shrubbery moving and twigs snapping.
I bounded onto my fishing platform, leapt into my little boat and rowed about 150 yards (much quicker than Sir Redgrave in his prime) to where Ian and Kenny were fishing.
They were stood on the end of their platform with head torches on wondering who was being murdered, the racket had scared them even at that distance away!
We thought about walking around to my swim with lights and large bank sticks to 'Sort Them Out' but instead we stayed put and polished off Kenny's copious supply of French Traditional Cidre. (being terrified is thirsty work)
The noise eased off and eventually ceased. We relaxed a bit and I had to 'Man Up' and row back to my pitch black bivvy in the trees, to the scene of the carnage!
Fortified by another couple of glasses of French Traditional Cidre I am proud to say I did just that. All was silent when I got there. Even a few wafts with the pen torch did not produce a murmer. I crept out of the boat and leapt into my sleeping bag.
In the cold light of day we decided that it was probably a family of foxes fighting over the food scraps in the shrubbery, maybe??
This was a very scary night!
Simmo