You might think that this bi-monthly diary will be all about how I racked up the Sandhurst lake residents after getting the hang of how to catch them. If so, I'm sorry to disappoint you, because I decided to make that my final session of the winter. Normally I would have made an early start on this type of water, but going on past form, it doesn't start to award its prizes until early April. This year, things were going to be a little different.

The first couple of fish came out during the last week of February. I don't really know why this happened, but I suspect that the lack of weed had something to do with the lake's carp being up and about early. The news of a couple of fish coming out attracted the crowds and so it was time for me to leave.

While I packed away my gear, I received a telephone call from my sister in-law, Helen; she was going to hospital to get some test results. My brother was at work and her other immediate family were unavailable so I agreed to accompany her. The consultant told her that she had a cancerous growth that would need removing as soon as possible. The news of this sent a shockwave throughout the family; and, considering the help I received from Helen with my book writing, I made a decision that family came first.

After a few days of getting over the initial shock of the diagnosis, Helen decided the best place for her was at work, as it would take her mind off the doom and gloom. This was a heroic decision and so with not much else to do I headed of over to the Berkshire water for a couple of nights fishing.

Dawn breaks with a vengeance

I arrived at the lake as dawn broke and was greeted with probably the worst conditions for spotting fish. There was a strong south-westerly blowing along the lake, sending waves crashing into the "Cottage" bank. I stood on the north bank of the lake in an area known as the "Lawns" and spotted a couple of anglers bivvied up on the Cottage bank to my right. Without any signs of carp, it was time for me to decide whether I should find out what the other two anglers had seen or have a look around myself. I decided on the latter and made my way round the lake in an anticlockwise direction.

After almost a full circuit and failing to spot any fish, I stopped to chat with the first of the two anglers who was set up in a swim called the "Wides". He told me that they had only seen one fish and that was out in the slightly settled water to the right of the "Motorway Point". I had seen fish show in that area on a previous walkabout and it seemed like my best choice for my debut session of the year.

After getting all of my kit round to the point, I picked a good area to pitch my bivvy so that I could both see the water, and be comfortable; many of you won't know the water so you should note that this a very important thing to do. You need to see the water because the traffic noise from the neighbouring M4 prevents you from hearing the fish.

After pitching the bivvy, I fanned out three rods using bright hook baits mounted on chod rigs. If I saw a fish show I could simply cast at it and I'd know my rigs were fishing effectively. Surprisingly enough, this all went very well for a change and it was just a simple case of trying to keep my eyes on the water for as long as possible.

Over the course of the next 36-hours, the wind blew and the carp didn't show. It wasn't until dusk on the second evening that I saw a fish poking its head out of the surface. This was good enough for me and I cast a fresh scopex pop up in its general direction. At about 2am, the following morning, the rod received a very quick drop back and, after winding like a madman, I bumped out of a fish. This wasn't the best of starts, but, nonetheless, something had come of my effort to cast at a showing carp.

The following dawn the lake was flat calm. As I stood watching the surface, I counted at least 12 carp showing themselves. These shows were spread out around the central area of the lake. Unfortunately, I had to pack up later that morning as I had to attend the Big One fishing show at Farnborough.

Three-chod approach

A week later, I arrived at the lake just as dawn broke to find a cold westerly wind ruffling its surface. I took a good look around and, after failing to spot any fish, I opted for the Wides swim on the Cottage bank. I chose the swim because it offered me a good view down the length of the lake and it gave me good access to where the fish had been showing the week before.

After setting everything up and fanning out three chods, I settled down for the first night of the session. I had just signed a three-year contract with Nash tackle and taken delivery of my first batch of bait at the weekend show, so I decided to start introducing some of it to the open water swim. Just as the light begun to fail and the blasted bait thieving gulls left the scene, I let rip with my throwing stick and scattered the best part of 2 kg of NASH scopex squid boilies around two of my rods.

That evening Sam Healy turned up for a chat. As we sat talking, a few fish began showing in front of the swim to my left. Earlier, I had cast a single hook bait into the area, so I confidently left it where it was. Later, after Sam had left me, the showing fish appeared to be backing away from the wind and were heading towards my range rods with bait all around them, which made me feel confident of a take during the night.

The following morning, I rose early and scanned the surface for signs of carp. It wasn't until about 8am that I saw the first fish show and it was a long way off at the other end of the lake in front of the "first point". I kept my eyes trained on that bit of water.

Over the next hour, I saw two small fish show and decided that if another one appeared I'd move closer to the action. No sooner had I decided my course of action, a dirty great carp jumped clear of the water in front of a swim called the "Middle Containers". With that, I packed my gear up and pushed my barrow down to the far end of the lake.

When I arrived on the hilly area behind the Container swims, I parked up the barrow and went to fetch my car from the other end of the lake. On my return to the hill, I set up my bed chair and made a mug of tea while I waited for another fish to show.

By the time the next fish showed, I'd set up all three of my rods with light leads and fresh hook baits. Within seconds of the rings parting and the gill bubbles pinging to the surface, two rigs where cast to the general area. With two rods settled, I had one rod left to cast. After another 30 minutes, another fish showed, roughly where I thought I'd seen the big fish jump earlier, so I cast the remaining rod in its direction.

With all three rods covering good areas, I sat it out for the rest of the day hoping a carp might make a mistake. Unfortunately, nothing happened and day turned into dusk.

Just as the light failed and the gulls flew off to roost, I scattered a few freebies the hook baits using the throwing stick. Later, Lil Richie arrived for one of his long sessions in the "Slipway" and we sat up chatting about all things carpy.

After he had left, I noticed a few fish dimpling the surface. My confidence grew and the buzz I got from their appearance led to a fitful nights sleep. By the time I woke up, it was about 6.30am. Just as my eyes focused on my rods, my middle bobbin rose from the ground and held for a few seconds before the line pinged from the clip and the spool span. Unfortunately, it was a short-lived battle and after about a minute, the hook slipped. I picked myself up thinking that there are worse things to worry about than loosing a fish.

After recasting the rod, time passed in the same way as the previous morning. It appeared to me by the number of fish showing that there was still a good chance of more bites, so I opted to do another night in the swim. My night's efforts, however, were in vain and the next morning it was obvious from the lack of fish showing that they had moved off, so I stopped for the day.

Weekend pressure causes reaction

Over the following weeks, a pattern emerged with weekend pressure from an average of 16 anglers pushing the fish out into open water. This was good for me because when I turned up in the early part of the week they would be showing in a condensed area in the open water. This made it easy for me, but, as it was a lot quieter during the week, the fish seemed to develop a habit of backing off under the pressure that I and a few other anglers exerted. The fish reacted by spreading out around the lake over the course of my sessions; and, come the weekend when they had few places left to hide, one or two of them would slip up.

This behaviour became a bit of a running joke between the weekend anglers and the full timers. Weekends were easy they bantered; and, by the way some of the lads were catching fish they were making it look easy. I did think about starting to fish through the weekends myself, but thought better of it, as it upsets weekenders when a full timer is stitching up swims week in week out.

To say this was a little frustrating would be an understatement, but I carried on with the hope that the fish would wise up to the weekend pressure. Eventually, they did settle down and my first fish came after dropping in the Wides on a Sunday after Ross had packed up. That bite didn't come easily as I had to wait the best part of three days for it. When it did, I was just about to start packing up. I would like to say that I had done something a little different but I hadn't.

White tipped harbinger

Over the few days, the "Brute" had been showing around the middle section of water, and, with the succession of fish that had been out, it was well due. When the fish bit, my legs turned to jelly and as I played it back from range, I thought: "Is this the one we are all waiting for?" After an intense battle, in a strong southwesterly wind, the fish finally burst its tanks. My heart was in my mouth, as my leadcore leader rose up from the margins. When it did finally surface, I could see from the size of it, it wasn't the Brute. Instead, it was "White Tips", a big carp of 31lb 4oz with coloration on the tips of its fins. Having just caught what I'm told was a rare visitor to the bank, and knowing the Brute was still out there, I hung on for a few more hours until I had to go.

Just after I'd caught White Tips, Lil Richie turned up for another session in the Slipway. When I told him that I was packing up, he said I was mad as my fish was known to appear just before the Brute. Maybe he was right, but there were other things on my mind like Helen coming out of hospital and a consultants meeting to attend at the weekend. I just had to hope that the Brute could hang on for a few days until I could get back.

Well the Brute did hang on but only for two days. Just as I was pulling up into Nashy's car park, my phone bleeped as a few text messages came through. The Brute had come out and it couldn't have been for a more deserving angler; Lil Richie had caught his long time dream fish at a colossal weight of 47lb 2oz. Yes, I'd missed out but I was chuffed that he'd caught the fish. Anyway, this gave me a dilemma. What should I do for my following week's angling? Should I carry on or go elsewhere? I decided to carry on.

Good news travels fast

The following Tuesday I found myself back at the lake and I was surprised to see so many other anglers. With what had gone on, I was also surprised to see the Slipway was empty. Curiosity got the better of me, and knowing where Lil Richie had caught the Brute, I decided to do a couple of nights in the swim to see if I could learn something about its capture.

The session was a blank, but I was pleased I hadn't lost my momentum and I returned the following week. This time it was the Easter bank holiday Monday, and, as I drove through the gate, I noticed that the Lawns and Slipway were empty. As I knew that a few of the lads had used the Easter and Royal wedding bank holidays to take a long break and the lake was busy, I grabbed my bucket from the car and claimed the Lawns before taking a look around.

After a quick circuit, it seemed like the Lawns was my best option so I set about setting up my kit. Once all was ready, I found a nice area for my left-hand rod and after casting a hinge rig to the float, I baited it accurately with 40 freebies. I could see mallards feasting on some of the previous anglers baits in the swim. This led me to cast the other two rods baited with choddies.

The next morning, as I watched the water, Ross fishing the far bank had a take and landed a small common. As soon as he netted it, I thought: "well that's today's bite then but at least there having it."

As the morning passed, there were several shows around my area and one of them looked to be a good fish and it was right over my middle rod. It wasn't until later that morning something happened. Then my right hand bobbin pulled up tight and, just as the line pinged from the clip, I hit it. Unfortunately, there was nothing on the end, and after thinking about it, it might have been a trailer.

With the rig and bait still perfect I whacked it back out. Then Ross appeared. Just as I began making him a cup of tea my middle rod was away and I took up battle with a lively carp. Ross gave me a hand with my waders and I jumped in to try to stop the fish kiting around a staging to my right. The fish turned before it got in to danger and swung round into open water in front of me before heading up the bush line to my left. When fishing a big fish water there's always that moment of excitement when you don't know what's on the end. As the fish swung hard left and climbed the marginal shelf, I knew it couldn't be the big'un and just played it back to the net that Billy held. Once it was safely scooped up, I could see a stunning and very old looking mirror lying in the folds of the net. Ross informed me it was "Leney". This to me is what carp fishing all about - and if I ever stop shaking when I hook a carp or feel gutted about catching a 26lb mirror because it's not big enough, it's time to give up.

Once that fish was safely on its way, it was time to sort out the mess and get the rods ready for the following night. Having seen a fair few shows that morning; I opted to keep my left-hand rod on the accurately baited spot and fish two chods out in the central section of water. Although I'd just caught on a single bait, I decided that having a couple of nights ahead of me it was a good time to get some bait out. Using my trusty old throwing stick, I scattered a couple of kilos around the area where my chod rigs lay. Throughout the next 48 hours, despite seeing the Brute and several other fish show in the area, my bobbins remain motionless.

Ross on the far bank didn't seem to be having the same problem though and he got a bite each morning. It seemed that he couldn't put a rod wrong and was making hay while the sun shone on him.

Just before packing up on the Thursday morning, to make way for the bank holiday anglers, my old mate Phil Buckley arrived. While we chatted, it seemed from the shows in front of me he should drop in behind me when I left. I was quite happy about this, as I knew he was staying until I could return the following Monday. The only thing I had to worry would be if someone else asked him for the swim.

A quick recce before the big day

On my way home, I popped in to see how Helen was doing and showed her some video footage of the baby geese that had hatched that week to see if it would cheer her up. She was delighted and asked if I would take her to see them. I was happy to oblige and arranged to take her on the Saturday. At the lake Helen was transfixed with the fluffs, as she calls them, and I had a chat with Phil to see how he was getting on. The fish were still in the area, no one had asked for the swim after him, and he was going to pack up on the Sunday. This was great news but again I had to hope nobody was going to ask if they could drop in after him until I could get back on the Sunday morning.

Fortunately, when I arrived the next day, the Lawns hadn't been booked and I was free to move in after Phil. I set up camp and decided to spend the day tying rigs and getting everything sorted while resting the swims. The swim had been fished for nearly two weeks, so it deserved a break.

Just before sunset, I cast a hinge rig back to the accurately baited spot and fired about 50 freebies as tight as I could around the marker. Like the previous session, the other two rods were fished with yellow scopex pop-ups on chod rigs out in the central section of water. Once those had been cast, I scattered 2 kg around the general area again. Then it was time to kick back and see what the dawn would bring. Unfortunately, for me, during the dawn feed all three of my lines were pulled out of the game by a low 20 stocky trailing a rig after Ross had lost it during the night. Just to rub salt in my wound, while all this was going on, Ross had another take and landed a 28lb common.

Use down time wisely

The following 24 hours didn't really go my way either. This was due to a strong easterly wind making it very difficult for me to get my rods out and achieve a confident line lay, so I wasn't too disappointed about not getting a bite. I used the time to get the remainder my 5 kg of bait out in the lake. Finally, on the second evening, the wind dropped and I got my rods out pukka - and my line well down - and I felt confident of a bite.

Sadly, my efforts were in vain. Although my rigs stayed out for the dawn feed, they were once again pulled out the game by another trailer while I had fish showing over me. This time it wasn't a stocky, it was a big common around mid to upper 30 lbs, trailing Sam's rig.

I was getting the hump and almost felt like packing up there and then. But, I pulled myself together and after calming down, decided to put on fresh baits and recast my rigs and leave them until I had to pack up the following day. By the time I had finished it was about 10am so I had the whole day to chill out and give Sam and Ross some stick via text message. Then Helen rang me with some great news; she had been to see her consultant and she'd been told that they had managed to remove her cancer.

By early afternoon, Sam and Ross had had enough of my texts and decided to gang up on me. As we fought our corners, my middle bobbin smashed into the butt-ring, the line cracked from the clip and the spool started to spin. I walked calmly over to the rod and picked it up. Immediately the rod took up the battle curve and line started peeling off of the spool. This time it didn't feel like a trailer, so once it had slowed from its initial run, Ross gave me a hand with my waders. With the fish kiting right, I didn't hesitate and got straight into the water.

I felt the fish slow down as it hit some weed before swimming toward me. I managed to gain on it fast and asked Ross to pass the net to me. Once the fish was on a short line I could feel the line pinging off its fins and it started zigzagging. I thought that it was a small, spirited fish so I coaxed it up to the surface. Just as I got most of my leadcore leader above the surface, I saw a huge erect dorsal fin poking out of the water. I knew that this fin belonged to "Pecs", the second biggest carp in the lake - last out at over 41lb.

Naturally, I was nervous and the fish was far from beaten. It made many powerful runs up and down the margins accompanied by silence from the lads behind me. I just kept thinking please stay on; don't break my line or bend my hook. Eventually I won the fight; over the net cord went Pecs and a loud cheer came from behind me. At 39lb 14oz, she was a little bit down on her weight since her last capture but she was plenty big enough for me.

Next time, I'll tell you how the hunt for the Brute is progressing. Until then, good fishing.

Nigel Sharp