The ancient Greeks believe winter was the result of the depressed deity Demeter, goddess of the Earth. She caused winter when her daughter Persephone was forced to return to the underworld and hang out with Hades for half the year. Demeter’s doldrums cause the leaves to fall and bitter winds to blow. 

We know how she feels. Not that we’re pining for lost daughters, but we are missing the few final fish remaining on the list as our year-long Catch-M-All deadline approaches. Some of the fish, like the lake whitefish, may be easier to catch once the ice freezes over, but most seemingly migrate to the River Styx this time of year, not to be seen again until the warm waters of spring return.

But we’re not done yet. We are prepared to go to the gates of Hell to finish our quest. And we did, sort of. Hell, in our case, is the coal-fired power plant in Bow on the Merrimack River, and the gates are the cooling water canals that flow from the plant to the river. Like Greeks to a public bath, common carp (cyprinus carpio) flock to this spot where warm water mixes with cold.

Our plan was to catch a carp relaxing in the cozy discharge of the power plant. It seemed easy enough. But we’ve underestimated carp before, so this time we called in reinforcements, a crack team of angling mercenaries to overwhelm this cagey fish.

The mercs were two fellow fishing bloggers—Nick Pacelli, who lives in Massachusetts and writes the “Southern New England Outdoor and Nature,” blog and Todd Donavan, a firefighter from Andover who writes the blog “NH Trout Undiscovered,” which chronicles his quest to fish all remote New Hampshire trout ponds.

Our team captain was self-proclaimed carp expert Nick, who has landed hundreds of carp using sophisticated techniques developed in Europe. We could almost hear the carp quaking in their oversized scales. 

Carp are not native to New Hampshire, or North America, for that matter. They were brought to the state in the 1880s to replace a shad fishery that crashed in the Merrimack River. Fisheries managers hoped giant carp would lure anglers to vacation in New Hampshire. But alas, anglers spurned the carp, mostly because they would not attack a lure like a trout or salmon. Also people complained that carp taste horrible, but actually they just taste like the water they live in. Around the turn of the century, the Merrimack River was heavily polluted, so the carp ended up tasting like poo. The hardy carp didn’t care, but anglers were rather put off.   

Now that the rivers are cleaner, the carp is again a valid game fish. The state record was caught in the Connecticut River and weighed just over 33 pounds. The world record is a 92-pound Kraken-like beast in France that is still growing. In Europe, record carp are always carefully released for others to catch. (Remember what Zeus said: “Release the Kraken!)

For the trip, Nick concocted carp ambrosia—sweet corn infused with vodka. This bait recipe is from Europe, where carp fishing and drinking go hand in hand. Nick told us this bait is not put on a hook, but rather on a thin line called a “hair rig” that floats above a bare hook. The idea is that the finicky carp slurps up the corn and accidentally inhales the hook. As if this was not complicated enough, Nick suggested we also use a “method ball,” a golf ball-sized wad of cornmeal, oatmeal and Wonder Bread smashed over a three-ounce weight about 10 inches ahead of the hair rig. The ball dissolves and forms a localized chum cloud. Nick swears by this approach, although we noted that we don’t even go to this much trouble preparing food for our kids.

Rafts of ice were flowing downriver at a steady clip when we arrived at the boat launch with our fleet of canoes. The half-mile paddle upstream to the warm-water discharge canal was a challenge, but worth it when we saw the steam rising from the water. Our hopes soared when Todd spotted a large carp finning in the shallows. Zeus was smiling on us!

Nick saw bubble trails dimpling the water, which often suggests feeding carp. We thought it was just gas, but what do we know. Nick is an enthusiastic student of carp and often is bewildered as to why more people don’t go after the thousands of 20-plus pound fish he knows are swimming in the river. 

After four fishless hours, we knew the answer. Carp are hard to catch. Despite method balls, hair rigs, vodka corn and Wonder Bread, no carp appeared. We were beaten once again and sadly floated back to our cars in defeat. After all this, Sisyphus himself would have thrown in the towel, but Nick wondered aloud if the carp were biting in Hooksett. With boundless optimism he packed up his gear and headed south to do more fishing. We think he needs to cut back on the vodka corn. 

But we haven’t given up. Clay returned on Jan. 2 with his Uncle Ronnie and wasted another four hours. Now, we plan to go back again as soon as we can sucker someone else into going with us. We swear to the gods of Olympus that the carp will be ours!

Follow our odyssey at www.catch-m-all.com or on Facebook. Also, check out Nick’s blog at www.southernnewenglandoutdoors.blogspot.com and Todd’s at www.nhtroutundiscovered.com.