The Nervous Water Carp Journey

by Daryl Angler

I started fly fishing for trout like most I imagine. Nymphing, dries, dry dropper, streamers, I wasn’t bias as I truly loved it. If trout wouldn’t cooperate I turned to bass and panfish, as they were plentiful and very accessible. Every aspect of fly fishing intrigues and challenges me; it pushes me and has allowed me more patience in life. Standing in a river, solving riddles, unplugged and experiencing the surroundings is a necessity in life for me, and fly fishing has enriched this. The feeling of watching a trout rise to a dry is rather poetic, listening to a bass crush a popper when it’s still too dark to see is audibly violent, or feeling the jerk/tug of a streamer eat off of the swing can be sudden and surprising.

All exhilarating moments in fly fishing that I can’t oversell enough, and I look forward to enjoying more of these moments. However, there is something else, something bigger, something smarter, something superior in design…carp.

I didn’t know what was about to happen, I was just looking to take the next step in my fishing journey, and fly fishing was that step. I was starting to find success on the river fishing for trout, when I came across an article on chasing carp on the fly. I was immediately intrigued with the challenge of fooling a fish, that is known as a prolific eater, into consuming a phony bug. What’s more is carp can feel, taste and smell all whilst eating, so tricking one into eating was only part of the equation. So I kept fishing for trout, but I was emphatically reading and talking to people about carp, (future blog post tease) and then one day I just decided to start walking banks. I had a 6wt, (Redington Hydrogen with their Behemoth reel) some carp flies I bought from the fly shop (thank you Jay Z) and a ton of water to find my target in. I walked, and talked (to myself), I snuck, crawled, and tip toed, I hid behind trees all trying to find feeding fish, happy fish, tailing fish. I didn’t know what I was looking for in the beginning, just that I was looking…for anything…for something. After lots of nothing, I started spooking fish, which was a good thing, because I started seeing fish. I started seeing fish!! Next came a ton, and I mean a TON of breaking fish off after finally getting a fish to eat, but I had to learn to let them run lol.

I remember really enjoying the challenge of finding fish, and presenting but had yet been bitten by any carp bug…but that was about to change.

So this is where the story takes a left turn, I want to share how I feel when I find tailing fish, and present to said fish, rather than the story of my first carp to hand. When I’m walking a bank, I look like an idiot. I’m usually walking softly, creeping, staring, or sneaking up on what appears to be only nervous water. Nothing could be farther from the truth. When I see a feeding fish, head down and tail up and waddling into the mud, my adrenaline immediately starts pumping. I can physically feel my heart pounding in my chest as I prepare to present to bronze beast. Keep cool…don’t move, my breathing slowed, I just stay still and wait for position. I can feel the blood pumping in my fingers, in my arms, in my legs; it’s truly life changing. To take a step back for a moment and appreciate, that as a grown ass man I am experiencing something that has had an unexpected physical effect on me. Like that moment as a kid you arrive at the amusement park thinking of every ride and crazy treat possible, that time you wake up to a room full of presents over the holidays, that time you got your first bike or car or your first kiss. These are moments in life you don’t forget, they are physically ingrained in your memory because of how you felt. I hadn’t felt this with any trout, bass, or bluegill and was certain that I wanted to experience it again. Now this physical change isn’t a problem if I get a quick eat, but if I drag and drop a fly and have to wait for the eat as my heart starts to pound, and my blood is racing, my body starting to shake, yet in my best carp yoga pose I try and focus, I try to manage all of these physical changes and get a solid presentation on the fish. Hell, I’ve had to actually shake my hands and arms to try and stop them from trembling with adrenaline just so I can tie a fly on. Every time I see happy fish, every time I present a fly, I get to feel like this. Every…single...time. It hasn’t faded yet, and I hope it never does.