Following the delayed channel crossing, the 11 strong party of Jeff, Mike, Darrell, Big Del, Nick, Neil, Andy, Mark, Ty, Tim and myself arrived at the gates of Valdore at around 5:00am on Saturday 17^th July. Unable to get into our swims until midday a variety of time passing activities got under way, which included chatting, catching up on sleep and surveying the waters we’d be calling home for the next 6 days. I had never been to Valdore before; in fact this was my first, dedicated fishing trip to France and one, which we’d all been looking forward to since we booked way back in the New Year.

Surprising, the eight or so hours I had to wait before moving into swim number 10 on lake 2, soon passed and luckily I had just finished setting up by the time the daily thunderstorm arrived. Also fishing on lake 2 were Nick & Neil, who were in swim 14 and directly opposite me were Jeff & Mike in swim 15. The rest of the party had the whole of lake number 3 to themselves. Being so far away from the rest of the group I was fortunate to have Jamie and Lee, two young blokes from Leicester, bivvied up behind me, in swim 7 on lake number 1. They provided good company, as well as a helping hand, not to mention a deft touch with the net in aiding me to land some of my catches.

After the storm it was time to get the ‘carp scarer’ out to try and see what features I had within the swim boundaries marked out on the map. The swim in front of me was pretty featureless and not too deep, at around 7’ – 8’ over much of its expanse, though I did find gravel at around 90 yards out. I opted for the easy option and planned to put two rods onto the area of gravel, the third I would fish at mid range, the fourth rod was to be the mandatory ‘margin’ one. Once I’d got some bait in and my lines marked up I was able to pop round to see the others, safe in the knowledge that all I had to do was hit the clip on the recast. When I got round to swim 14 I was greeted with the news that Nick had already landed a couple of fish, both mid-high doubles and Ty was off the mark on lake 3. We chatted for a while, but by dusk it was time to head back. I returned to swim 10 and chatted with the lads from Leicester but got off to bed fairly early following the lack of sleep due to the previous nights journey, but hopeful that a fish would fall to one of my rods that night.

Ty (the perennial smiler) with a Lake 3 29lb’er

Sunday the 18th soon came round after a deep sleep and I was disappointed not to have had a run on my first night, but it was just as well, as I slept like a log. The news that fish were slowly coming out to other rods, coupled with hindsight about my spots being chosen in haste, I decided that I would now reassess the situation.

The marker float revealed a small patch of gravel, about 80 yards out at 2 o’clock, but it was within swim 9’s boundaries. Swim 9 was unoccupied and I decided to put some bait on this spot, just in case the corner swim remained vacant. Neil came to visit later that day, and after a chat we concluded that I might as well try to exploit the marginal area in directly in front of swim 9, along the South bank. Baits were repositioned accordingly, and anticipation rose again.

Valdore Sunset, photo taken by Mike

Another runless night followed and the grapevine informed that at 2am Jeff had banked a 35lb 4oz mirror, Nick had had more of the same and Mike a 21lb mirror. I decided that now was the time to put baits on the ‘2 o’clock’ gravel patch I had previously found and to give this area some time. The third rod was cast straight out to the gravel area towards swim 15.

I persevered with the margin bait.

Jeff and his 35lb 4oz fish

During Monday the changeable wind had well, changed again, only this time in my favour, so I concentrated on spodding out a good bed of bait onto the gravel spot that I was hoping would produce my first French lump. As evening drew on, the wind strength died and during the conversations I had with the Leicester crew, we concluded it could be a productive night, so with the bedchairs calling we all wished each other a good night and tight lines.

BEEP BEEP…….. BEEP BEEP , the sounder box awoke me from my sleep. The right hand rod of the two on the baited spot was showing signs of life and I rushed out of the bivvy as quick as I could. The bobbin showed a couple of drop backs, followed by a slow rise. Hand hovering over the butt of the rod I immediately decided to strike on the next rise, The next rise wasn’t long in coming and as my hands were just about to hit it, the bobbin rose still further, looking as if a run was about to commence. Too late! I was already committed and I struck. Not one of my better ones, I must say, and I was about to start cursing my luck when I felt a solid resistance at the end of my line. Fish on!

It had finally come, sixty hours into the session and I was into a fish. I was grateful to have Jamie on the net to help minimise the chances of me losing it at that, often precarious, stage of landing your quarry. Especially as the fishing had not been easy for anyone, so far on lake 2, and runs were at a premium.

Although it wasn’t a hard or protracted fight, I was most definitely relieved to be ‘off the mark’ courtesy of a 29lb mirror. This was the biggest fish I’d ever banked, so my confidence received a double boost. As I got in my bivvy, one of the two walkie-talkies that we’d brought with us, crackled into life with Nick on the other end to find out what I’d just had. Having provided Nick with the necessary details and received an update on his progress I went to bed.

Me, and my 29lb Mirror

I Wandered down to see the others a little later than normal on the Tuesday, I’d spent the early part of the morning drifting in & out of sleep since I first awoke at dawn. Having exchanged stories of the previous night, I noticed that the wind was pushing in gently to my baited area in front of swim 9 which made me keen to return to my swim. On arrival I topped up my spots with bait and generally sorted myself out. Nick in the mean time had set his oval up, amongst in the undergrowth in between swims 14 & 15. During the afternoons stormy session I had my second carp, a 16lb 14oz mirror, off my baited spot. Was this the start of some consistent action?

Another take from the baited spot soon followed, and it felt like a much better fish. As I got it near the bank it broke surface, but unfortunately I didn’t get a clear view of it. The nods of approval from Lee on the net, towards Jamie, told me it was a good ‘un. As it neared the net, the carp decided to have another bid for freedom, a lack of concentration meant I wasn’t on the front drag quick enough. I threw my rod down in disgust as I briefly cursed my luck. Really I should have been cursing my lack of focus. So for comfort I quickly clung onto the ‘that’s fishing’ philosophy and started to work on putting that failure out of my mind and look forward to the next run, praying it would come. Nick came round for a chat and to see how things were going. He had banking much of the same, but lake 3 was fishing well with Ty & Tim leading the way.

All the 3’s! Tim with a lake 3 33.

The other take didn’t materialise, and I slept in till late on Wednesday morning, I was finally prompted to get out of my bag when Neil arrived in my swim. Neil hadn't caught yet, but Nick had got amongst the ‘twenties’ with a 22lb mirror. The rest of the day followed the usual pattern for me. A walk round to see the others to update & exchange tales of woe & tales of joy during the heat of the day and then returning to continue spodding and working my swim throughout the afternoon and evening. The wind from the previous day had long since died and though I sat on my rods for much of Wednesday my patience was not rewarded. Despite that it was good to see the Leicestershire contingent, behind me on lake1, land some fish and on lake 3 Darrell banked a 22lb 8oz fish.

Nick with 22lb Mirror

I was awoken at 1:50am on Thursday morning by a screaming take on the left hand of the two rods on the baited spot. I picked up the rod and struck into a solid resistance on the other end. I Quickly flicked down the lever on the baitrunner conversion cap. The fish soon started to get up head of steam and began to make the spool ratchet as it took line from me. This was the one, this was the kiddy, this was the biggest thing I’d ever hooked into. The fight it gave confirmed that, as it took me on a merry dance all around the lake, taking line at a rate greater than I could gain it. As much as I tried I couldn’t get it up in the water, I was hoping it was going to be a carp, because it’d be a right lump, but I was beginning to suspect a different culprit!

Mike had heard the clutch on the reel from his swim on the opposite side of the lake and shouted across to find out what I was into. “It’s strong and I can’t get it off the bottom….. I think it might be a cat!” I called back.
Jamie and Lee had been watching proceedings in my swim for much of the battle, and they too felt the same. As I managed to begin to get on top of the fight and get the fish closer into the margins Lee picked up the net. Having already seen him in action on netting duties, I was confident in him as 'my right hand man'.

The fish broke surface, and it was indeed the first catfish I’d ever hooked into, now to see if I could land it.
Lee performed superbly on the net and managed to get the longest fish I’d ever seen into it. The moggy had taken the lead an' all, which then needed two of us to unhook it. Once that was done I felt a tad more relaxed and was looking forward to the ‘tale of the tape’ and the trophy shots. The needle was pulled round to 50lb 4oz, the biggest fish I had ever caught! Elation wasn’t the word and once the fish had been returned I was soon on the radio to call swim 14, then on the mobile to swim 15, Mike had seen the torch beams and camera flashes across the water. The news from swim 15 was that Mike had had a 30lb carp and Jeff had had his first cat too, which was a 36lb’er. It took me a further two hours before I could finally get off to sleep. What a night!

My first catfish, 50lb 4oz

Jeff with his first ever cat, 36lb 12oz

Mike with the 30lb’er

I got up at about 9:30 on the Thursday morning. I reeled in and went for a stroll around to the other swims to catch up on proceedings. Nick had had a 24lb’er from his makeshift swim, so his decision to move proved to be a profitable one. I was pleased to be able to share with the others, the tale of my first cat. I thought it could well be the fish of a lifetime for me, which I might never ever better. Never did I expect to beat it, not on this trip anyhow.

Nick with an old looking 24lb Mirror

Later that day there was a group barbecue to remember. The Barbecue was memorable for a variety reasons, the visit from a couple of the Mancunian contingent (also fishing lake 2) provided us with some entertainment, the quality of the spread that Tim had so brilliantly organized was superb, but the most memorable part of it was when it turned into something resembling a Greek wedding.

One minute we were all sitting around, enjoying the beer, the chat and a nibble on the food that Neil had cooked to perfection on the new ‘fatcarp barbie’, the next there were plates, chairs, bottles and food flying everywhere. The afternoon storm had paid us the daily visit, only this time it was not in the best of moods. Once the storm had passed and the debris, from what looked like a minor earth tremor, was all cleared up, it was time to head back to our swims to make the most of the last night on the lake.

Swim 10 was pretty much how I’d left it and my bivvy was still intact and in place which was a relief. The ‘other Lee’ (not the trusty netsman) from the Leicester quartet had moved swims and had run down the bank to tell us all that he’d just landed his first fish, a sturgeon! Now never having seen one of these on the bank I, along with Jamie, Lee (the netsman) and ‘other’ Lee rushed back to have a look at it. Lee (the nets man) was again first to get hold of it once it was on the mat and proceeded to wrestle with, then unhook, what looked like a little freshwater shark. We took the captive in the sling back down to swim 7 to weigh and photograph it. The scales measured in excess of 27lb and Lee was most happy to say the least! He even went on to bank a couple more back up carp that night.

The ‘other’ Lee, with his 27lb sturgeon.

I baited up as usual and got myself off to bed once I’d finished chatting to the Leicester boys. This final night was to be a memorable one, for two reasons, the first of the two reasons I'd rather forget. A couple of the Mancunian quintet went around, throwing fire-crackers and antagonising some other anglers on lake 1. The most memorable part of that last night though was my another ‘fish of a lifetime’. The 'warm up' acts to my final capture were two more carp, 21lb 4oz and 21lb 2oz respectively. Then, at 4:30 am, a screaming take awoke me from my slumber so I could commence battle with another big fish.

The resistance that greeted me on the strike followed by line being stripped from the spool told me it was another big ‘un and right away I thought it was a cat, but didn’t want to ‘count ‘em before they hatched’. In a manner similar to bigger carp, this larger cat didn’t whiz all over the place like the 'smaller' one I'd caught. Though despite that fact, it did battle hard. At times its tail could be seen slapping on the surface as it upended itself to try get into the silt. I concentrated totally on winning the fight. When friends now ask me how long the fight was, I tell them about 20 minutes, but I’m guessing, as time ‘stood still’ whilst I focused on landing the biggest fish I’d ever hooked into. All the time I was praying the 15lb sensor wouldn’t give way or the hook straighten orpull, as I was using ‘standard’ carp tackle. Lee and Jamie had joined me in my swim and had seen pretty much all of the fight. As I got the fish closer to the bank we could all see it was a monster and Lee, true to form was straight on the net again.

I must confess to feeling a bit of panic in terms of wondering if this monster would fit in my 42”. Lee was now knee high in water and almost as fired up with adrenalin as I was. There was no way either of us were letting this one go. I think Lee would have got in and grappled with it if that's what he had to do, to see it on the bank. After a couple of attempts we finally managed to net it and get it on the mat for the first close inspection. I was both excited and in a state of disbelief when I saw it out of the water, but now I needed to focus, in order to get the unhooking carried out. I held it’s mouth open whilst Lee took the hook out, the hold being a precarious one, with little more than sliver of flesh holding the size 4 Fox series 5 in place. The weighing was problematic, as my scales only go round to 60lb (I never ever thought I’d be catching a fish to bottom out those scales). I got on the radio to Neil, who incidentally, was off the mark at last with carp of 22lb & 26lb. We had to backwind Neil’s 70lb scales to get the best reading we could, but I was more than happy to accept 78lb from the ‘three man jury’ present in swim 10. With trophy shots duly completed, sadly, it was time to get it back in the water. I waved her farewell and inside my head thanked her for making my trip to Valdore one that I’d never forget in a hurry.

Me and my biggest ever fish…. 78lb catfish.

Early on the Friday morning Mike had landed his best carp of the week, a 34lb mirror. When reeling in later to pack up, a catfish grabbed his rig, but unfortunately Mike lost it in the weed. This I found out when I went round for my customary stroll, only this time it was to say farewells to each other and to tell of my 78lb cat, but news had already filtered through.
We said our goodbyes to Valdore and headed off North towards Calais and the crossing home.

Mike’s best of the week, a 34lb stunner.

So there came to an end my first ever dedicated weeks fishing in France and the whole experience has certainly whet my appetite for more of the same. The big fish, the camaraderie, the chance to fish a long session, everything about this trip was great and I look forward to another weeks session in France in the near future.

Valdore Sunset, Photo taken by Nick.

Two months after we returned from Valdore, we heard the sad news that Lee 'The Netsman' had tragically died. I don't know his exact age, but he was only 19/20. Although I had only met and got to know him during that special week I shall forever remember him for the fun, the laughs and his tremendous help and would like to dedicate this article to his memory. May you rest in peace Lee, I will never forget you mate