Ian Pettitt With Storm Austen forecast to bring a significant change in the weather and the nights building towards a full moon, the signs were there for an interesting few days on the syndicate. I headed over on Thursday evening for a walk around, hoping to locate a few fish and get an idea of where I might start the following day. It didn’t take long before I found them in an area I’d spent a lot of time fishing a couple of seasons ago. It was a useful bit of information to have in the back of my mind, giving me a starting point if nothing showed when I arrived on Friday. As it turned out, I didn’t need to look far. Arriving on Friday with the intention of going on the hunt, I found the fish holding in exactly the same zone as the previous evening. That was good enough for me, so I set about getting everything in position, returning to the spots that had produced well for me a couple of seasons ago. All three rods were soon out, positioned carefully on the spots, each going out with lovely drops. I’d decided to keep things relatively light, dispatching small PVA sticks and catapulting a few handfuls of whole boilies over each spot. There was no need to overcomplicate things; the fish were there, and I was happy to let the spots do the talking. As the rain began to set in and the wind gradually built, I caught sight of a couple more fish showing in the area. Things were looking good, and at 7:30 pm, the left-hand rod signalled a take. Fishing locked up, the rod pulled tight and I was immediately connected to something with a serious bit of power. The fish made full use of the strengthening wind and rolling waves, absolutely beasting me for the first few minutes. Just when I thought I was beginning to get the upper hand, it made a determined attempt to bury itself in a reed bed down my right-hand margin. Applying steady pressure, I eventually managed to get it moving again and coax it back into open water. It began to wallow on the surface, and as I caught my first proper glimpse, I could see it was a decent common that I estimated at mid 30’s. A few minutes of powerful plodding beneath the rod tip before I finally guided it over the cord and safely into the net. With the fish secured, I set about getting everything ready to weigh and do the photographs. I’ll admit, doing all of that in the teeth of the blasting wind was a little hairy, but it was worth every moment. The scales settled at a cracking 33lb 4oz. After doing the photo’s and some video footage it was safely returned to fight another day and I was hopeful more could be on the cards.