DO YOU HAVE LONG CARP FEVER?

Years before anyone had heard of Covid—or its debilitating variant Long Covid—carp anglers were living with a condition woefully under-researched and under-diagnosed by the medical community. On top of that, carpers with this condition have been cruelly mocked and accused of self-inflicting their symptoms by partners, friends, family and the general public. What I am talking about, of course, is Long Carp Fever.

Regular Carp Fever was first described in 1981 by Kevin Maddocks when he outlined the causes and some of the most common symptoms. Imagine, if you will, sitting on a wicker basket in 1952, dangling a worm or maggot in your local pond, hoping for a hungry roach or bream to gently tug your string, when news comes through that Richard Walker has smashed the carp record with a 44lb common. Anglers’ minds were blown. Apparently, life was no longer too short to consider targeting the powerful, cunning and elusive Cyprinus carpio. You, too, could now aspire to experience the raw power of these aquatic torpedoes.

Over the next twenty years, the mind virus unleashed on the world by this news brewed in the veins of British anglers up and down the country, and finally exploded in the 1980s into a full-blown carp fever epidemic.

Men, and at this time, it was mostly men, were observed exhibiting increasingly obsessive and compulsive tendencies. They found it hard to focus on their daily lives, work and families. Even, and I hate to say it, football seemed trivial and unimportant when compared to the excitement of catching a twenty-pounder. Standing on the terraces was suddenly a ridiculous way to spend hard-earned cash and precious weekends compared to the holy grail of catching a UK thirty. 

All available time, energy, resources and thought were devoted to developing the ultimate bait, acquiring the latest tackle, securing a place on the syndicate of dreams, and executing the perfect campaign. Wives complained that kitchens had become stinking bait factories, that their husbands were worryingly disinterested and distracted in the bedroom, and that they would be up and out early, returning after dark. It was clear to carp widows that their men were having an affair. And in a way, they were—a deep loving relationship with the local scaly matriarch, whose fulsome curves had turned their minds to mush.

And while these acute symptoms of regular or common carp fever can have severe consequences—affecting an individual’s ability to engage with non-carping citizens, to turn up and complete a full day’s work, to remember that parenting is a full-time commitment—they are but a slight cold versus full-blown pneumonia, a grazed knuckle versus limb amputation when compared to the chronic condition known as Long Carp Fever.

Looking back, it’s clear that Long Carp Fever is as old as carp fishing itself. It may be that carp have a particular power over us, although in researching this article, I have been told by a Cambridge psychology professor that almost any species of fish can infect the human mind, and that it is impossible to tell where your weakness lies until it is too late. I cannot speak about Long Trout Fever, Long Pike Fever, or the implausible-sounding Long Bream Fever, but I do have a deep familiarity with the carping variant. I, myself, have teetered on the edge of a full-blown attack, but with professional help, periods of detoxification and a strict regime of recovery, have navigated my way to a fragile balance. I cannot say I am cured, and take every day as a new challenge to attend to other things in my life aside from my desire for a St Ives fifty-pounder.

Like a helpless addict, as you descend into the full-blown condition, concerns about putting on an appearance of normality melt away, and anxiety about attending to non-carping matters is no longer there. Your whole world contracts to the lake, tackle shop and café, your social sphere is limited to those who share your mindset, who understand your carpy dialect, your preoccupation with the weather, moon phases and the latest catch reports. The path to Long Carp Fever varies between individuals. For some, it is employment that is the first casualty; for others, it is divorce. 

But whatever comes first, a common diagnostic symptom is ever more frequent and extended sessions. This is quickly followed by an increasingly dishevelled appearance, a fall-off in attendance at the café, off-hand comments about having rabbit stew for tea, wondering if it is safe to drink boiled lake water, and reports from other members that they saw said member washing in the lake. In extreme cases, social isolation is observed, hermit-like behaviour similar to the ancient stoic philosophers and Indian sadhu mystics who have renounced the worldly life and are guided now by their connection to the gods—the carp gods in our religion.

And now we come to the strange twist in this tale. For modern research has revealed startling new evidence, forcing a complete rethink about Long Carp Fever. You see, the surprising thing is that against all modern standards, all contemporary notions of how to live a good life, all mainstream measures of success, sufferers of Long Carp Fever should be miserable and impoverished, but they are not. If you look deep into their eyes, you see joy, that their soul is burning bright. 

Each morning, they awaken to another glorious sunrise and sit meditating on the scene before them, watching and listening to every aquatic occurrence, in tune with nature, mindful of the moment. They are where they want to be, doing what they want to do from dawn ‘til dusk and beyond, sharing the experience with like-minded souls on the fringes of the modern world. And in the end, what more can we hope from life than peace, freedom, friendship, and fishing on the banks of quiet English pools?

So next time you see a khaki-clad bivvy tramp shuffling down the aisles of your local supermarket, do not think poor soul, there goes another victim of Long Carp Fever. Reflect on their twinkling eyes and enigmatic Mona Lisa smile, and wonder what ancient wisdom they have tapped to forgo the trappings of a modern capitalist life and yet still find purpose, meaning and pure enjoyment in the pursuit of carping perfection.