Bliss it was to be alive this springtime on a Norfolk carp lake of considerable beauty.

Fishing for carp is, of course, an uneven pursuit. Hours of contemplation are interspersed, you hope, with short, adrenalin-filled bursts of the most white knuckle action. Then, job done and carp returned, the serenity seeps back as the lake sleeps once more.

Amongst many anglers, game anglers especially, there’s a misconception a carp fisher simply chucks a bait out anywhere and goes to back to the bivvy to sleep, eat or play on a phone. The best carpers are nothing like the stereotype. Not a fish moves or bubbles without being noted. A disturbed grebe tells a story. The good carper’s brain assesses every clue and acts on every opportunity. This is a classic fishing detective story played out on our banksides and for three intriguing days I relished being a part of the plot.

That’s the gist of the fishing, but what about the springing of new life all around? When the sun glimpsed through, wondrous hatches of gossamer flies filled the air, food for the recently-returned swifts. My first-of -the- year cuckoo got vocal in a wood not far away and sparrows around the neighbouring barn were in a whirl of nest building.

Fresh, spring sunlight painted the newly-opened flowers in their glory. Campion. Slashes of hawthorn in the hedges. Buttercups. A haze of bluebells. Pockets of wild garlic. Ragged robin and dog rose looking fit to burst from the bud and apple blossom draping the orchard in trains of wedding white. Life everywhere was exuberantly singing out its heart.


We nearly trod on a little life, lost in the grasses and newly-minted nettles. We heard it first, a tiny pheasant chick crying for help. The nest was found, abandoned, feathers strewn everywhere, pieces of shell and stains of blood. What to do? My friend kept it warm in his fleece until a lamp could be found and chick food sourced. After a week, the orphan is doing well, growing apace, calling the shots. Another springtime life resonating loud and clear.

At last we did actually catch a carp - we’d been too busy earlier! It fought with steamroller power and cement sack weight. My companion, though, is the best carp angler in the UK, though he’d disagree, and with a deal of grumbling the leviathan came to the net. A conker brown common carp , big as a three-year-old child. But this fish had perhaps seen 40 spring-times of its own and, on looking into its eyes, you saw so much wisdom there it was a miracle it had been fooled into taking a bait. As I said, though, when you are fishing with the best carp angler in the UK...

So, another life on the bank, an ageing one this time. How that carp was treasured. Weighing and photographing took only an instant and the fish was doused in water almost without pause. Back in the lake, it hung in the margins for a second or two, looking massive, and then powered back into the depths. With luck on its side, it could even see another 30 spring-times and I doubt it will ever slip up again. We might very possibly be the last humans to see that fish up close, and there’s a thought I took back to my swim.

Yes, it was such a rich, good session that I mentally hugged every blessed second of it. So it was no surprise when I got home to find an email from one of the nicest men in angling, Charles Jardine. It’s my pleasure to know the best carp angler in the UK and in Charles I guess I’m a pal of the best fly angler too. He still catches more trout than anyone else on the planet, but in his older years, Charles has devoted his time to putting back, to encouraging kids into fishing and to using the therapeutic gifts of angling to help those suffering in body and mind.

He informed me that he’s a part of a cancer recovery initiative and there is to be an introduction to fishing session in Lenwade on June 18. If you should be stricken by this horror or know anyone who is, the day could be a life-changer. You have to register for this, so go onto the Fishing For Schools website and you’ll see the Castaway heading there. Click on, fill in, come to meet Charles and I promise you’ll never regret it.