Fishy Tales & Stories

I wasn't planning to arrive at the lake on a Monday night—not originally. But sometimes the stars align, or in this case, a shift in the weather, an open diary, and a nagging sense of timing all came together. I've learnt over the years not to ignore that instinct.A large southwesterly weather front was sweeping through, bringing cloud cover, warmth, and that rolling, humid air pressure that often gets the carp on the move. If that wind hadn't started hacking into the Airfield Lake, I probably would've stuck to the club water. Meadow hadn't been producing much lately, despite that recent capture of the 50lber that caused a frenzy of activity down there. But realistically, it was only the stockies that had been coming out, and I had my theories as to why.Some thought they hadn't spawned yet; I wasn't convinced. To me, it was more likely the lake was suffering from a nutritional imbalance—namely, a tidal wave of tiger nuts. Don't get me wrong, carp love them. Love them a bit too much. The trouble is, they're addictive but hard to digest. It can take three, even four cycles through a carp's gut before they actually break them down, and in the meantime, the lake becomes one big recycling bin of tiger nuts. They're being eaten, crapped out, and eaten again until eventually digested—if not by the same fish, then by another. While this is happening, the carp can end up losing condition. So no, Meadow wasn't for me right now.I needed somewhere I could build on something - a spot, a pattern, a little piece of rhythm with the lake. August was nearly upon us, and over the years, it had been a kind month on the Airfield. It was time to prep a couple of areas, see how the fish were behaving, and maybe carve out a session or two that could set me up for the rest of the summer.I arrived at the Airfield Lake just before 1900 hours. The drive in along the east bank offered early signs of promise: several carp topping mid-water, rolling just beneath the ripple. And to my relief, no one was in the southwest corner swim—the exact spot I had in mind.With four nights ahead of me, I had options. If it didn't pan out in 48 hours, I could up sticks and try elsewhere, but I felt quietly confident. Everything about the air, the lake, the light… it just had that feeling.

Session Journal – Early JulyWith the heatwave finally taking a break and a couple of free nights in the diary, I found myself back on the bank in early July. Reports from the lake weren't exactly encouraging—it had been fishing hard, and water levels were the lowest I'd seen in years. Still, it was all to play for.Ian had arrived the day before and mentioned that the lake was very busy. I messaged another member to check if he was doing his usual one-nighter, hoping I might be able to slide into his swim once he'd packed up. Fortunately, he was, though the timing wasn't ideal—I had to drop my youngest off at 4:00 a.m. for a school trip. The alternatives were trying to go back to sleep or sitting around at home, neither of which appealed in the slightest.

A Blowout, a Buzzer, and a Battle – A Session to RememberWith the weather nudging into the high twenties—26, maybe even 28 degrees—it was too hot for my liking. I knew sleep at home would be a restless affair, so the lake felt like the best escape. I wrapped up my last gardening job by 11, shot home to load the car, and just had one last task—drop the eldest off at her boyfriend's. From there, it was lake time.By 12:30, I was finally on the road… and right into a dose of classic British road rage. According to the red-faced man in the Audi A4, I was somehow in the wrong for not letting him dive into my lane, after he'd undertaken me in a long queue of traffic without so much as an indicator. A bit of polite signalling might've helped rather than waving his fists at me through the window. Ah, well—onto better things.I've been running a bit of a side plan lately: swing past Meadow Lake on the way to Airfield Lake, and if a decent swim is free, I drop in. This time, fortune looked to be smiling—my preferred shady spot was vacant. Perfect. Or so I thought.

Welcome back to another fishing adventure. It's been a week longer than I originally planned, and to be honest, I'm still not 100% sure I should even be out fishing. But after surviving a couple of days back at work and feeling reasonably okay, I figured some bankside recovery time was just what the doctor ordered.The man flu struck hard while I was away camping in Wales. I ended up coming home three days earlier than planned—and truthfully, I probably should have cut the trip even shorter. Just to round things off, I had a tyre blowout going over the old Severn Bridge. Thankfully, the Highways Agency and the AA were absolutely brilliant. The whole situation was sorted in just over an hour—1 hour 15 minutes to be exact—and I was back on the road. A real credit to both services.Tight lines and be lucky!

There are moments in carp angling when instinct kicks in—when the changing sky and shifting pressure whisper that now is the time. After a prolonged spell of still, bright weather, a dramatic change had been forecast. A low-pressure front was moving in, bringing with it a band of rain followed by patchy showers. To any seasoned angler, this was a beacon—conditions that just scream feeding spell. I knew I had to act.With a few gardening jobs to wrap up first, I spent the morning moving soil and trimming hedges, watching the clock and keeping a close eye on the weather updates. The wind direction hadn't shifted dramatically, but the incoming rain was what had my attention. It was around 1400 hrs by the time I finally loaded up and headed out, tired but fired up for a proper 40-hour session.As I approached the lake, I already had a plan formulating in my mind. I was hoping the wind would gain strength and push directly into the bank I had in mind—a bank that had given up good fish in the past under similar conditions. To my surprise, as I crept along the tree-lined margin, I spotted a few carp moving. They hadn't been showing much lately, so this was an early sign that my hunch might just be spot on. It always pays to watch, and I took it as a quiet confirmation from the carp gods that I'd timed this right.Tight lines and be lucky!

There's a certain freedom that comes with two nights on the bank — a kind of rare permission that makes every cast, every move, that much more purposeful. I'd been granted that freedom once again, thanks to the understanding of my wife and family, and I wasn't about to waste it. After a couple of tricky sessions that ended in blanks, I was determined to get it right this time. If the carp were going to make me work for it, I was more than willing to put in the effort.I pulled through the gate just after 9 a.m., taking my time as I unpacked. There was no mad rush — the fish hadn't really been on the feed lately, and I knew the conditions still weren't ideal. We were enjoying a slight rise in temperature — the kind that gets you thinking spring might finally be here — but the wind was doing its best to convince me otherwise. That persistent easterly was still biting, bringing a chill that cut through layers. Forecasts predicted gusts up to 30 mph, and I'd experienced enough blank nights recently to know I didn't want to be sitting head-on into that wind again.Tight lines and be lucky!

July Update

With limited time available to me for the rest of May, I really need each trip to count.After a few hours of gardening this morning, I arrived at the lake in the early afternoon. The conditions weren't ideal—there was a fresh northeasterly wind blowing across the water, bringing a chill with it. Still, I'd seen no signs of spawning since Sunday, and that continued today. Unfortunately, visible signs of carp were scarce too, aside from a few indications in the area I've chosen—though not in any great numbers.Tight lines and be lucky!

After a false start on Wednesday, which saw me heading home just a couple of hours after I arrived, I found myself once again back at the lake. Somehow, I'd gravitated back to the same swim—tucked under the trees, shaded from the harsh sunlight, and blessed with a cool breeze that occasionally drifted across my face like nature's own sigh of relief. It felt familiar. Safe. A natural corner that always seemed to hold potential.The Fox Voyager tarp giving me shadeBut this session was already different.The carp were twitchy, moody—on the verge of spawning. You could feel it in the air. That thick, humid pressure before a storm. The kind of atmosphere that makes you sweat without moving and question every decision. I was praying that the forecasted weather change due on Friday or Saturday might delay the inevitable. It had originally been predicted for Thursday, but like everything in carp fishing, it had drifted—just like the carp, always unpredictable.I've always believed they know what's coming before we do. Some sixth sense about them. The kind that makes them vanish into snags or appear out of nowhere when you're least expecting them.I wasn't entirely sure how to approach this trip. With the temperature rising fast, I knew I had a narrow window before the day turned into a furnace. I flicked both rods out to obvious spots just to get something fishing while I set up camp, cracked open a drink, and let the place talk to me.Tight lines and be lucky!

Originally, the plan was simple. I was meant to meet up with my mate, who'd finally secured a place on my syndicate after being on the waiting list for what felt like forever. We'd been planning it for weeks, talking tactics, swim choices, and baiting strategies. You know how it is — the kind of excitement that builds up when two mates finally get the green light to fish together.Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately depending on how you look at it, life threw him a curveball. He got the call he had been waiting for even longer than his syndicate ticket: a hospital appointment. It was due the next afternoon. No brainer, really. Health always comes first, well above fishing. We both knew that. Still, it left me sitting there, rods in the garage, bait prepped, weekend plans suddenly wide open.After a quick cup of tea and a bit of pacing about, I decided to message the wife. I explained the situation — that I had a rare window opening up — and asked, as nicely as possible, if it was alright for me to slip out that afternoon and give myself a proper session. A couple of nights on the bank sounded like heaven, especially knowing that a couple of busy weeks in May would mean I wouldn't get another chance for a while.Tight lines and be lucky!

It's been a strange trip, full of highs and lows.

After a few days of scratching my head, poring over weather apps, wind charts, and half-forgotten notes, I finally made the call. Easter Sunday morning. Something about the timing felt right—maybe not scientific, but instinct counts for a lot in this game. I loaded the gear and headed back to a place that has lived in my head for years now—Airfield Lake. The mythical monster common had been circling my thoughts again, and whether it's real or just legend, I couldn't ignore the pull any longer.Some say it's been seen, others swear they've lost it. Hell, I've even glimpsed it myself once, a broad back breaking the surface on a still morning like a submarine turning in the shallows. There's a whisper that someone may have had it and kept quiet, and I wouldn't blame them either. But regardless of whether that fish exists or not, Airfield is just one of those lakes that gets under your skin. It's not just about chasing a fish—it's about the magic of the place itself. Peaceful. Timeless. Fishing here is therapy.I pulled into the car park just before 09:30. There were nine other anglers spread across the complex, which surprisingly still left me with a lot of freedom to choose a swim. It's rare to get that kind of opportunity on a bank holiday, so I made the most of it. I lapped the lake twice, watching for signs, and trying to make sense of what the lake was telling me. The weather had been up and down all week—high pressure slowly building, with southwesterly winds and light rain forecast for the afternoon. Classic carp-catching conditions.Tight lines and be lucky!

Trip 12 Carp fishing- more Nutrabaits Blank Saver Testing

We tried

The Blank Saver Test: A Week of Unexpected Turns This week didn't turn out quite the way I expected. Things changed, and the fishing trip I had planned was completely altered by circumstances beyond my control. At one point, I seriously considered not going at all. But then, I thought that would be silly—a wasted opportunity. Instead, I opted for my club lake, mainly for the peace and quiet it offers, and I figured it would be a good opportunity to test out a few things. I arrived around 11:30 am to find the lake completely empty—just what I needed. But that presented a new challenge: choosing a swim. I've always been drawn to the dam end, mainly because of the thick lily pads that grow there, but I knew I needed to fish somewhere else. I've only fished seven of the twenty available swims, and it's time to explore more if I want to truly understand the layout of the lake.

After a false start on Wednesday, which saw me heading home just a couple of hours after I arrived, I found myself once again back at the lake. Somehow, I'd gravitated back to the same swim—tucked under the trees, shaded from the harsh sunlight, and blessed with a cool breeze that occasionally drifted across my face like nature's own sigh of relief. It felt familiar. Safe. A natural corner that always seemed to hold potential.The Fox Voyager tarp giving me shadeBut this session was already different.The carp were twitchy, moody—on the verge of spawning. You could feel it in the air. That thick, humid pressure before a storm. The kind of atmosphere that makes you sweat without moving and question every decision. I was praying that the forecasted weather change due on Friday or Saturday might delay the inevitable. It had originally been predicted for Thursday, but like everything in carp fishing, it had drifted—just like the carp, always unpredictable.I've always believed they know what's coming before we do. Some sixth sense about them. The kind that makes them vanish into snags or appear out of nowhere when you're least expecting them.I wasn't entirely sure how to approach this trip. With the temperature rising fast, I knew I had a narrow window before the day turned into a furnace. I flicked both rods out to obvious spots just to get something fishing while I set up camp, cracked open a drink, and let the place talk to me.Tight lines and be lucky!

It finally feels like we've turned a corner with the weather. Night time temperatures are now holding at 6-7 °C, with daytime reaching a comfortable 15-16 °C. The pressure is dropping nicely for a day or two—just about perfect conditions.I wasn't sure I'd even get a swim for this last full week of fishing. With so many anglers planning trips, I half-expected to end up on Airfield Lake—something I hoped to avoid until May.Pulling into the main car park, I was relieved to see just two cars. Promising. In my head, I'd mapped out my top three swim choices, plus three backups, keeping myself focused on Meadow Lake. Swim No. 1 was already taken, along with a couple of my backups, so I pressed on, mindful of which swims had been occupied the night before.

The hard work paid off.

Hiding away from the heatwave under the trees.

With only two trips available for me to fish on Meadow Lake, I'm back at it. There's a good chance there will be a few more anglers this week than last. Apparently, it was very quiet here. I can only assume the weather played a part in that, keeping many away from the banks.After an entertaining drive, trying to avoid a traffic jam, I arrived at the lake just before 9 am, only to find three other anglers fishing. I took a drive around the lake and chatted with them. First and foremost, there was no way I was setting up with the east wind blowing into my swim. I'm too old for that hardcore fishing anymore. Some might wonder why I even bothered going in such conditions, while others completely understand my reasoning.After much toing and froing between about four swims, I eventually settled on one. I took some time leading around to confirm what I already knew from my numerous past sessions in this swim. Initially, I considered fishing long out of the swim, but I couldn't find anything worth putting a bait on. The best options were the closer-in spots, so that's what it was going to be. My left-hand rod would go to one of these closer features, while my right-hand rod would be positioned just about where I always prefer to have it—but slightly onto the gravel this time, as I like to fish just on the edge.

It was hard going.

That was an ok start.

It was the kind of decision that required careful thought. After hours of analyzing weather forecasts, reading reports, and thinking about how Meadow Lake had been fishing over the weekend, I finally decided that it was the right time to head down to the club water for a few nights. Hopefully, I could bag a couple of decent fish during my stay. I had been itching to get back, and the timing felt right.I arrived at the lake just after 08:30 hours, the morning sun barely peeking through the clouds. As I made my way down to the water's edge, I bumped into another member who was also booked on for the same few nights. We exchanged pleasantries and had a good chat. He had already dropped his bucket into one of the swims at the back of the wind—a sensible choice, considering the weather. He had spotted a carp already, though he mentioned that there were fish showing all over the lake. According to him, the back of the wind was looking like the most promising spot, and I had to admit, it made sense.

Trip 7 Crap Fishing - It look so good, i had to catch

Trip 6 Carp Fishing - 2025 - I've finally had some action, its been to long

The thunderstorms arrived.

With a change in the weather I simply had to be out on the bank.

Trip 5 Carp Fishing - Things can only get better

Wow that was hard work.

Fingers crossed this goes better than my last trip.

Trip 4 Carp Fishing 2025 - Another cold one

That really didn't go to plan.

Fingers crossed it goes aswell as last week's trip.

A white blank saver, saving me on the last night.

It's slowed right down and now theses signs of spawning.

What a fantastic start.

Trip 2 Carp Fishing - Roll on March

This certainly isn't what I expected after last week's trip out.

Trip 1 - Carp Fishing - 2025 - Hard times on the syndicate

Not what I was expecting for the first night.

Trip 43 Carp Fishing 2024 - Winter Social Time

It's been very nice being back on this lake again.

Trip 41 Carp Fishing- This weather is killing it - Syndicate fishing

I'm back out on the Airfield Lake for the first time this session and I'm off to a good start.

Trip 40 Carp Fishing - P2 - Cold Times

Trip 40 Crap Fishing 2024 - High pressure and rain issues

Trip 39 Carp Fishing - When the snow came down. - Syndicate fishing 2024

I'm back out after spending a week at home on 3 x 500mgs of antibiotics each day! Hopefully, this has finally kicked into touch my never end bouts of illness, I'm not 100%, but I feel 80% better than I was on my last trip. I checked in with Ian on Tuesday about the weather and where would be a favorable area. With the wind blowing from the Northerly direction and the lack of sunshine, which would, unfortunately, vanish after the first day. We came up with a fair few options, and with not much coming out over the past few days, it didn't look brilliant. The daylight hours are getting closer to 12 hours, I feel this is the magic moment for the carp, when they really start waking up and getting their heads down.

The wife and kids are in Ireland to visit family, so I have the opportunity for a few nights fishing. Unfortunately, the ever lasting cough has reared its ugly head again since my last trip out. My youngest was also starting to show signs of her having it before I headed off last week. I was hoping to avoid it, but alas, it's back, I'm still planning to come this week. I'm hoping it's on its way out and once I'm pitched up, I can just relax and rest. Plus the weather has turned a lot warmer and a lot more favorable over the coming days.I was hoping to fish the same swim as before, but margin fishing when you are coughing like I am isn't going to catch carp. I felt a bit sorry for the other anglers on the lake, as there were quite a few, 6 or 7 of us.I was now looking for a swim that gave me a good 16 wrap out away from the coughing lunatic that I must be, coming out fishing.

Trip 38 Carp Fishing - Episode 2 - Winter Campaign, off to a good start

Trip 38 Carp Fishing- Episode 1 - Winter Campaign, starts here