At the beginning of July I'm eager to go carp fishing after being too busy with trout and predators for more than a month. I find a very quiet little place, easy to bait and cool for summer evenings. I do six small pre-primers to properly prepare the thing. I'm doing really well, I've seen fish not far from the area several times. On the big day I arrive around 6 p.m., prepare my food, set up my tripod a little loosely and place my rods. The “somewhat strained” is important for the rest…. Less than 10 minutes later I recorded the first bite, the fish was fighting like crazy. At first I think of a small town, but to my surprise a beautiful, round 20kg fish lands on the carpet.
Cool, it's a good start, Antoine is accompanying me for the evening, we are still traveling in a smaller, very nervous city... Around midnight I decide to go to my bedchair, put on a small dry jogging suit and a fresh sweater, I slip into the duvet to close my eyes. I don't even have time to get comfortable before registering a bite, I don't really know how I do it, but when I make contact with the fish I shoot with my tripod, which is a little loose and in the water flies the second rod is included.
p@t^in goes ch@z!!!!
I pump the fish, I exhaust it and lift it onto the carpet. Wow, he's great, full of scales and not too small. A little worried about my mess in the water, I grab my phone to take a little souvenir photo before I let him swim.
The quay where I had installed my rods falls vertically into water more than 4 m deep... I scratch a little with the rest of my rod, nothing helps, I gather my courage, I dive for the first time in my underwear With great excitement I grab the stick that is stuck in the pondweed. Out of breath to return to the surface. I take a deep breath and dive back in, I feel the pressure in my ears as I reach the bottom, I don't like it at all. I search a little, find nothing, I go back up, I come back down, still nothing. After several attempts I finally grab what looks like a swinger, I hold onto it to return to the surface. A little drunk from the situation, I quickly pack my things and go to the car. I walk through my garage to dry everything before I shower at home...
Enough amused by the story, I will sleep peacefully.
Moral: Never set up a tripod loosely again...
Small souvenir photo from the tripod in front of my garage.
The end of the story
October of the same year: For more than a month I have been holding a launch in the same range as the July disaster. I fish there no more than once a week so as not to disturb the fish too much and to fish them until winter. Everything is going well, there are no tripods to report in the water and the fish are cooperative.
It's one of the first nights when the weather is really bad, wind and rain interrupting the evening, really no time to sleep outside. Antoine is back, we discuss anything and everything, even mentioning the story of the tripod in the water and this almost linear fish in this body of water where the communities are clearly in the majority. Having often doubled or even tripled the catches, we joke that it is possible to retouch this famous fish. Now you might think I'm making the rest up to make the story cool, but I assure you it's true. Ask Antoine, a cool guy, pretty tall, with long hair, who's always hanging out by the water in a big white Mercedes. He will confirm the story for you.
At around 4am that same night I recorded a hit, in short I'll spare you the details of the super fight because shooting carp is always the same. We lift the fish onto the carpet on the quay, I laugh, I look at Antoine and say to him: “It's the same one, it's the one we were talking about before, because of her the tripod fell into the water." "And I go upstairs and put the bar against the lounge chair so that it is not in danger. Antoine inspects the fish and shouts something like "On the other hand it's linear, didn't you notice that last time?" » Me: Honestly no, I was too worried about my tripod in the water.
Out of respect for this superfish, we take photos at night before letting it return to its element, amused by its fate, we have several coffees until daybreak before packing.
End of second story
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