Hi. My name is Joel, and I'm a Carp Angler
Several years ago I was fishing a flat near the marina at Ray Roberts. A beautiful July afternoon – hot but not unbearable as I was wading in 8 inches of water and there was a slight breeze. It was the time of day when most of the bass anglers were coming in, their 250 horse engines roaring to idle as they approached the “No Wake” zone. Luckily, I was fishing the inside of this flat (the “inside” being created by an old road bed that was exposed) and was not disturbed by the wakes from the boat traffic. The flat was in perfect condition; 8-14 inches deep, clear water, limited vegetation, and LOADED with damselflies. This particular area is very susceptible to fluctuations in water level. If the lake drops a foot, the whole thing is exposed. A few inches too high and boat wakes ruin the visibility. The carp handle these changes easily but we have to adjust. There are few times out of the year when this flat “works”, but when it’s on, it’s ON!
I was about halfway through the flat when I saw three tails about 50 feet in front of me. If you could change the red flake bass boat into a flats skiff and take a little of the orange tint out of the middle tail, you would think you were on a flat off the south Texas coast; sneaking up on a pod of reds. I closed the distance to about 30 feet and started my cast, trying to keep the leader low and to the side until the presentation. The #8 bearded Charlie dropped about a foot in front of the trio (who were all occupied at the time with something on the bottom – producing a large “mud”). I waited until the tails dropped and the fish moved forward out of the mud and then began a series of short strips, trying to imitate an immature crawfish caught in the open. The “competition factor” worked and the left fish surged a few inches in front of the others and inhaled the fly. I distinctly remember seeing the flash of those orange lips and feeling resistance in the line. A quick strike with the rod and all hell broke loose. The hooked fish tore down the flat with one of his buddies while the other fish bolted right at me. In no time the fish was into my backing and the typical see-saw carp battle began. Folks always refer to these fish as the “golden bone” but they are more like a “golden red” – using size and strength to their advantage rather that pure speed.