Dave Hayden - The Old School Essence Way

Fishing is busier than ever these days, so I’ve found myself searching for quieter syndicates. These usually come in the form of low-stock or notoriously hard lakes. The upside is that you can often fish exactly how you want and, at times, have the whole lake to yourself. The downside? Hard lakes usually come with a higher standard of angler.

Being the self-proclaimed blagger I am, I somehow managed to weasel and worm my way onto a winter ticket for one such venue. We’ll call it The Farm Pond.

From November through to February, I didn’t see another angler—but I didn’t see a carp either.

The first week of March finally brought an end to the longest blank in the shape of a 16lb common. It was later confirmed to be the smallest carp in the pond, which is arguably just as impressive as catching the biggest… right? Okay, maybe not. But a carp is a carp, and a bite is a bite.

After that, I managed just one more—a fish a little over 30lb. By the end of March, my winter ticket was over, and I’d caught just two carp. Luckily for me, the king of the blaggers, I was offered a full season ticket for 2026.

Looking for an Edge

As April passed, I managed a few more fish, all falling to single hookbaits. By now, though, the other members could smell the warmer air and started emerging from hibernation, appearing on the bank with all their experience and talent.

I know… I was thinking exactly what you are. The cheek of them! I’d had the whole place to myself just a week earlier.

I needed an edge.

I was already fishing two rods instead of three, choosing less obvious areas, arriving after others had already set up, and quietly polling my baits into position in the hope that the fish barely even knew I was there.

The problem was that everyone could see what I was doing. They could see the areas I was fishing and copy them if they wanted to.

What I needed was something they couldn’t see.

I decided that meant finding a proper HNV bait—a genuine food source.

Discovering OSE

I started trawling the internet looking for old bait recipes originally  and eventually stumbled across Old School Essence.

After analysing the website in its entirety, I took to punishing poor Tom over Instagram with endless questions. What can I say? I just like to understand what I’m using.

Feeling confident, I placed a small order to see what it was like and give it a proper go.

Time for the Test

It was now the first week of May, and my order had arrived. Everything looked incredible and smelled even better.

Armed with my newfound weapon, I headed back to The Farm Pond.

I wanted to give it a fair test, so on one rod I fished a proven spot using the same bait that had already caught me carp. On the second rod, I originally planned to fish another productive area with the OSE bait.

Then, just before setting up, a carp showed tight to an island between two weed beds.

On a lake like this, where carp rarely give themselves away, you simply can’t ignore a sign like that.

I shipped the second rod onto the showing fish just before dark and catapulted 13 boilies into the area.

With everything sorted, I settled down for the night.

A Night to Remember

At 10:30 pm, I was woken by a one toner from the alarm.

The OSE rod!

I picked it up and instantly knew it was a good fish. It dived for every weed bed it could find, and even attempted to get round the back of the island.

Eventually, it ran out of steam, and I slipped the net under it.

31lb 9oz.

While the fish rested safely in the net, I grabbed my third rod, which was already rigged and ready to go. I clipped up, shipped it straight back onto the spot, and catapulted another 13 boilies over the top before sorting the photos and slipping the fish back.

By now, it was 11:45 pm, and I had to be packed up and gone by 5:00 am for work, so I climbed back into my sleeping bag, planning to have a proper look at the photos in the morning.

I’d barely fallen asleep when the alarm sounded again.

It was 1:00 am.

The OSE rod once more.

By the time I reached it, the rod had pulled itself clear of the alarm, and was almost bent double as the fish charged towards the shallow end and the safety of the thick weed.

This one felt even better.

It was like trying to reel in a fridge.

Slowly, I managed to gain line and bring it back in front of me. Just as I got it to within a couple of rod lengths, it lunged towards my left-hand rod.

I tried to stop it.

One huge swirl.

The fish turned.

The hook pulled.

Gone.

Of course, I was disappointed by what I’d lost, but I put the rod back on the spot, added another 13 boilies, got back into bed, closed my eyes, and thought to myself,

“The bait works!”