The Searcher

Nick, as we sit here having returned from what can only be described as an emotional rollercoaster of a trip to the Continent, I’m intrigued to know how long it was when you first ventured to mainland Europe?
“In ’86 or ’87, I first started to take an interest in Europe. I remember, because it was around the same time any-method trout fishing was introduced. Rod Hutchinson had been to Holland and the first photo I saw of him was with a brace of twenty-pound commons. His rod tips were up in the air and there were these big ships behind him. The image blew my mind. This also coincided with my madness for carp fishing escalating, and yes, I saw the photo and that was it.

“The next year, a group of us from the Colne Valley decided to go fishing in Holland. Looking back, it was quite funny, really. There were a lot of us—six or seven—and we went to these park lakes. Rod had visited one himself and had put a couple of the lads in the group on to it. The lakes were around Rotterdam and we caught an incredible number of big carp. You’ve got to remember that when I was growing up, whilst there were big mirrors about, commons over twenty pounds were super rare. Over there, however, we caught braces of twenty-plus commons most days.

“I absolutely loved the fishing, the lifestyle, what I saw and how different it all was. It sparked something within me, as such experiences do when you’re a youngster. I’ve tried to do the same with my daughter, years down the line. I took her to Europe on many occasions when she was growing up, in the hope that she’d develop that wanderlust and desire to see and experience new things. Of course, mine was a bit more polarised, and it was all about fishing, to start with.

“That first trip was awesome. In terms of the fishing itself, all the park lakes were fairly similar, with their boarded edges, flat bottoms and very little variation in depth. They also had the odd reedbed and set of pads. The fishing was fairly easy, too. I remember Bob Baker giving each of us a sack of the original 50/50 mix when it first came out. Someone had also sorted me out with a strawberry jam flavour. We sat and rolled our bait on the bank, and as I say, we caught a ridiculous number of carp.

“We also fish a couple of dammed sections of river, casting over to overhanging willows. It was beautiful, and again, it sparked something within me.

“I remember going back the following year. I hadn’t passed my driving test, but I drove my girlfriend’s car all over Holland! [laughing]. It turned out to be another great trip. I was young and very focused on those waters, but soon, I started to think about France.”

Information must have been very scant in those earlier years…
“Indeed. Nowadays, it’s so easy for everyone. You click on various websites, do a quick search and soon you have  a whole list of waters that offer public fishing. You’ve got Google Earth, too, and that has changed things massively. You can research not just the lakes you’re going to visit, but how to get to them, the parking, what parts are days only… the list goes on. Everything is so much easier now and I’m thankful for that.

“I was influenced by a couple of friends of mine: Kerry Barringer and Roger Smith. They really pioneered the carp fishing in the South of France. I remember them telling me that when they went to Cabanac on the River Lot, it took them three days just to find a way down to the water’s edge! A lot of the local maps didn’t show the minor roads, let alone the little tracks, so everything used to take so much longer. Now you can do most of your research before you go, and once you’ve been once or twice, it’s easy, isn’t it? 

“I also learned fairly early on that any more than two on such trips was a crowd. The sort of fishing we tried to pursue, we hadn’t even seen in England. Everything out there was worlds apart. Rivers were full of big fish at a time when Thames carp were still mythical creatures.”

One thing I realised during our latest trip was just how under-gunned I was on some of those big public lakes. I’m guessing that was amplified back then, too?
“Oh, of course! I watched guys going to Cassien in the early days and they were using 11lb main line and 2lb test curve rods. That sort of kit would be laughable nowadays. You wouldn’t even bother casting out, because even if you were to hook something, you’d probably lose it. We didn’t realise just how under-gunned we were until we started fishing the larger lakes and rivers. It wasn’t until the mid-1990s when I had a bit more money in my pocket and things developed slightly, that we began to source the appropriate kit for those sorts of waters. 

“Roger and Kerry were going on these mad trips, and I remember seeing their slides of the deep barrages. Again, they blew my mind. I asked them how deep they were and Roger said that they didn’t know. Their echo sounders worked to 100ft and they were much deeper than that. It was so other-worldly, like discovering another planet where everything appears the same but is different. You had to try to catch fish from whatever crazy places you came across. That’s how different it was back then. It might well have actually been another planet, but it was all this that drove us on, if I’m honest.

“We learned quickly, though, doing a couple of trips a year. Once we eventually started to hook a few, we lost them. We realised pretty quickly that our kit wasn’t up to it, and that we needed stronger, more robust gear. Roger and Kerry showed me this 40lb leader material and I can remember trying, with great difficulty, to tie it to my 11lb main line. It was a seriously steep learning curve, with the rules, the style of fishing and the type of kit we needed all being so different. 

“Those first few years in France, before the mid-1990s, I was fishing like a fool, really. It was beyond us in most respects, but we got on with it because we were possessed, almost. We wanted to catch these giant carp that we had heard about and seen the odd picture of. They were a powerful motivator, and we had youth on our side. When you’ve got no concerns at home and can just crack on, it’s an incredible feeling. It’s not a feeling you have for your whole life, though, sadly. 

“We had some mad old scrapes in those earlier years whilst fishing the big French rivers, but we were obsessed and driven in our pursuit of that kind of fishing. Initially, we didn’t really know what we’d let ourselves in for, and it was a while before we had the right kit—the likes of boats and echo sounders were still a few years down the line.” 

Had Cassien and the South of France come into it by this point?
“Not by this point, no, as I was just too young. I’ll be honest, by the time Cassien became an option and we started to fish it, it had already been done. Visiting the South of France required more money, and we used to go only as far as we thought a week’s wages would allow.”

Cassien was on the map, then, once you started to fish it, but there were those earlier images of you in the Alps. Were these venues also new ground at the time?
“Yes, but you’re a lot younger than me, and that happened way, way down the line. So much fishing had been done before I travelled to the Alps. Whilst I would drive over that way, I never looked at fishing the area until the early 2000s. But no, they hadn’t been done before and were just a natural progression, with us fishing further and further afield, just because we hadn’t been there before. I was properly kitted out by then as well, and the kit was no different, really, to now. I had a boat, outboard motors, echo sounders and everything else, and I needed to pioneer the fishing on new waters.

“You’ve got to remember that back in the early 2000s, I was making my living from fishing. I was travelling to the shows and doing whatever else, and I remember a Chinese company trying to break into the carp-fishing trade giving me a great big boat, one that I went on to keep for years. 

“The Alps came about from venturing further east and further south, after I’d seen the bigger lakes to the east. I was married at the time and my wife and I would go on big trips quite regularly. They’d last for weeks on end and were nothing more than an exercise to pursue great fishing. Even in those days there wasn’t a lot of information, just the same old stuff that everyone knew. I wouldn’t say there weren’t people doing it, because in later years it came to light that plenty were, they just weren’t shouting about it. It was exciting back then, going to these lakes at altitude in pursuit of our holy grail. That’s why I was doing it.

“I’m still looking for it now, and for me it’s about trying to find the kind of fishing we had when we first started to go, turning up somewhere I’d not seen before with no anglers on the water, with fish worth catching. As soon as I know what’s in a water, the buzz goes.”

I was surprised that even though we didn’t travel too far into France, every bit of water we went to either hadn’t been fished for years or you’d not never actually seen it. It amazes me that there remains that much unexplored water…
“My friends are the same. They ask me if I know where I plan to go, and half the time I don’t. If I research a place, then that’s quite different from just going fishing. There was a particular lake in the Alps that I’d seen featured in a short YouTube video. It had just a handful of views, yet the angler had caught this amazing carp in beautiful surroundings. After doing a little digging, eventually I found it. I went on to catch that very carp on my first trip, but that’s not where the excitement is for me, as I’d rather not know.

“I’ve got to be a little careful when I’m winging it, though, as I’m paid to catch carp, remember. Going to these venues, about which little or nothing is known, can be risky—it’s no good me coming home from a trip with just a double under my belt! I’ve been doing it long enough now, however, and I can generally pull something out of the bag. I said to you that if we’d have gone to Crete Lakes for the week and not caught ten fifties, we’d have been disappointed, because it would seem that most weeks, people do just that. That puts you on the back foot, mentally, because that sort of thing’s nowhere near as exciting. You can’t approach so-called adventure fishing like that. The only agenda you should have is having a lovely time. I’m fifty now, and I dread to think how much money I’ve spent driving from lake to lake, spending a night here and a night there… it’s like the never-ending story.”

That’s the point, perhaps… how have you not run out of new places to fish?
“A lot of anglers seem to think that France is all about Cassien, Dream Lakes, Chantecoq and the like, but it isn’t. When you actually start exploring, there are more and more waters, and each year sees more lakes dug. There are thousands of lakes, all of which will be stocked with carp, because that’s the French way. It’s why I was so keen to go back to the Seine and the Yonne. They used to be the best rivers in Europe and they produced giant carp. Unfortunately, a lot of these carp were moved and now those venues are a shadow of what they once were. Any number of lakes, however, both old and new, surround the stretches of river, and when they flood, carp find their way back in. I doubt things will ever be what they were, but my point is that the situation is forever changing, so I’ll never run out of water to explore, or re-explore. 

“There are still areas I’ve not spent any time checking out, like large, winding barrages that see very little angling pressure. More and more, these places are where you’re likely to find me. Will I catch giant carp there? Who knows? But again, that’s the thing. You never know until you have a go, and that’s the buzz. 

“Modern carp fishing, especially here in the UK, just doesn’t hold that same appeal for me, personally. After spending just a couple of minutes on Google, I know what their names are, how big they are, what swims they get caught from and who has caught them. It just feels like it’s all been stripped bare, and it’s not like that in France. There, I rely on my wits and good judgement, and for me that’s the ticket… it’s proper fishing!”

Does the kind of angling you’re now used to on the Continent ruin your fishing back home, then? 
“Of course it does, and it can completely destroy it for many. It’s always been an Achilles’ heel and a double-edged sword. You’re completely happy, perhaps, with your one wife and two kids, until some young dolly bird gives you the eye, that is how the human being is. Knowledge is a dangerous thing, and I was always happier when I knew nothing. You need only look at the guy down in duffers’ corner, as happy as Larry. I might think, He’s not catching a carp, not in three lifetimes! He doesn’t know any better, though, and he’s happy just being there. That’s the thing, though, isn’t it? As long as you’re happy doing what you’re doing, it’s all good. 

“Being surrounded by anglers, having to worry about matey next-door casting over you just isn’t for me. I’ve learned to remove myself from it all, for my own sanity. I’d rather go chasing the dream, and as I said, do a bit of proper angling. It should actually be called fishing, because angling is more deliberate. You set your eyes on a target and you go and catch it, providing you have the time and incentive to do so. When you go fishing, you try your best, but ultimately, you’re in the lap of the gods. It’s like when we went to those bits of river and chucked out for a night. Just imagine if you’d woken up to a screamer, and it was a great big, long, scaly river carp… it would’ve made your year! 

“You’re fishing for the exceptions a lot of the time. It might take you ten trips to catch one from there, but you never really know, and I like that. It’s changed for me in more recent years, in that I tend to go to areas that I know hold bigger carp. As I said, it’s how I make my living, so I do need to come home with a few photos and some footage. Make no mistake, though, if I won the National Lottery tomorrow, you’d never see me again!”

You’ve mentioned that holy grail on a couple of occasions. Do you think an uncaught monster actually exists? 
“No, I’m not naive enough to believe that. I can think of ten or so giant lakes in France that don’t get fished because most of the bank space is private, or there’s massive control because they are super-wealthy areas with big yachts and stuff like that around. A few could produce giant carp, maybe eighty- or ninety-pounders. Nothing’s impossible, but the so-called holy grail isn’t about a fish, but the quest. It’s about the journey. I keep searching because I absolutely love it, and if the holy grail of carp fishing actually existed, I’d never actually want to find it!

“Your fishing ends up going one of two ways: you either do it socially, or you have a quest. In the modern world, many anglers are unable to go on such quests and end up fishing for ‘Gut Bucket’ over at Yateley with their mates. Some have bigger dreams, though, and it’s about whether or not it suits their lifestyle. I’m one of those idiots, unfortunately. I’ve always had that massive dream and never really had the money or the time to do it justice… I still do it, though.”

It was also amazing how much variety there was. Even in just that short journey we made through France, we went from wild rivers to narrow sections of canal; small, weedy lakes to huge reservoirs. It really is diverse, isn’t it?
“There’s so much to experience. I’m at the stage now where I want a bit of variety. It’s like sleeping with the same bird for 25 years. Occasionally, you need to have a theme night, or some different-coloured wigs [laughing]. I’m always looking for that new experience, and it can be anywhere. I like variety in my fishing. Sitting around the same eight-acre gravel pit, week in, week out, isn’t what gives me that desire to go fishing. I’d much rather mix it up and explore new places.”

Another noticeable thing is how well the fishing seems to be protected in France. Venues everywhere appeared to be stocked, and at first glance, predation doesn’t seem to be an issue. This isn’t the case with just the carp, either, there’s also an abundance of big silvers, pike, barbel, etc.
“Yes. In the early days, a lot of fish weren’t stocked for anglers’ enjoyment, but for food. You also need to consider that if Dinton, for example, was the most amazing lake in the world, the number of people who’d want to fish there, or around there, would be vast, and if you didn’t have savagely strict controls, before long, it would be ruined. You’ve also got to remember that it’s not just the English and French who fish these waters. German anglers, Czechs, Dutch, Italians and Polish all travel to France, year in, year out. They visit to fish the big carp brothels, public lakes, canals and rivers, and they can be found throughout France, all year round. 

“I’ve started to see a shift in the attitude of the French in recent years, inasmuch as they certainly don’t seem to be as resentful of us as they may once have been. Whether that’s because of Covid, I don’t know, but something has changed. I don’t know if they are just overwhelmed, perhaps, by the number of anglers, but all that business of confiscating your rods and taking you to court seems to have vanished for the most part.”

Do you think that could be an industry thing, post-Covid, in that they now see the value of hordes of anglers travelling to their country to fish?
 “I think they do see the value in it, yes. But in terms of their economy, the relative value of fishing is probably minuscule compared to a lot of other areas of tourism. I think they are being inclusive more, and are making an effort not to discriminate against anglers. I think that if the French looked at it and got it right, they could earn a hell of a lot more from the fishing.”

Now the favourite subject of many: rigs. Your set-ups for the Continent are as simple as they come, with a long length of Camsoft and a big, strong hook. Enlighten us…
“I’ve learned to approach my European fishing as I approach life: the more complicated you make things, the more likely you are to muck things up. It’s that simple, and if you remove all the crap, you remove any doubt. I’ve spoken about this before. When venturing south of Paris, you encounter more nuisance species. The roach and rudd are huge. You also have the large crayfish, but worst of all, there are the poisson-chats. These small catfish seem capable of destroying almost anything. With all this going on, you have to think in a certain way about your rigs. 

“Years ago, I lost my desire to use what I thought were cool, effective rigs, because I realised how ineffective a lot of them actually were when you add nuisance species to the equation. The further south you travel through France, the more things change. You can’t use what you’d regard as normal hookbaits; they have to be almost like stone. I think this is where an awful lot of anglers go wrong when fishing in Europe.

“For me, whether it’s a small canal, a deep barrage or a huge lake, in the South of France, my rig and approach very rarely change.”

We’ve spoken a fair bit about France and Europe, but have you any plans to venture further afield?
“Well, as you know, I’m planning to emigrate in the next few years, so I guess I’ve got quite the story to end on, really. I’ll still come back to Europe to fish, maybe not every year as where I’m going, I need to learn how to be a sea angler. I’ve got a whole new aspect of fishing to learn about. This excites me massively, but I’ll never stop carp fishing completely… I need to find that holy grail!” [laughing]