Oh well, I’ll try again next week. But please, don’t keep giving me all this hosepipe bans and drought business! Someone’s having a laugh or the execs of the privatised water companies are simply failing miserably in their highly paid duties.

But let’s start on a bright note. Simon Machin left a message on my Facebook page and it pretty much sums up what many of us feel about fishing and what non-anglers just don’t get:

Do you know Bob, don’t know what it is, maybe the challenge or just being in the heart of nature but all I can think about is fishing. I think it’s an addiction. I can get moody if I don’t get my fix, don’t even need to catch…

And then there are the others who just seem to miss the point:

When The Rivers Are Shut…

 …some folk can’t seem to find owt better to do than create havoc on the Internet. I really don’t know what makes some folk tick, you know. Then again, I’m not sure these folk actually do a deal of fishing during the rest of the year either. Perhaps it’s in their DNA, a bit like birds know when it’s time to nest or salmon know when to leave the sea and ascend rivers. What is certain, they’re not exactly nice folk all year round but between March 15th and June 15th they become right arseholes! Or maybe they’ve got some kind of Dracula bug that manifests itself in springtime rather than in daylight.

Me, I’d rather go fishing and when the rivers are shut I tend to look elsewhere. It’s a cracking time to target canals, at least it is in my neck of the woods where active cormorant management has ensured the roach population is both healthy and prolific. The canals here are a far cry from your regular narrow boat jobbies. Ours tend to be at least 20 metres wide and 8 feet deep (isn’t it odd how the metric and imperial systems sit happilytogether like that !) and although they’re all linked and fed by water from the same river (the Don) they each have their own character.

Take the Stainy (Stainforth and Keadby Canal), it’s full of bream, whereas the New Junction is full of roach. On my last trip to the Stainy I was unable to use maggots because of the ridiculous number of perch that nailed the hookbait within seconds of dropping in. On the Stainy my first line of attack is pellets because that’s the only way I can get through to the bream and even then you have to put up with catching lots of ‘nuisance’ roach.

This bream fell to a 6mm Bag ‘Em ‘Soffit’ presented over 3mm halibut pellets and on a good day you can easily catch a dozen like this.

Over on the New Junction Canal you will catch a few perch on maggots but the main target is roach however the smart angler is never without hemp and a few tares, or casters. The roach to be had are crackers, too. It’s not that unusual to catch fish in the 12oz to 1lb bracket if you can read what they’re doing.

I had upwards of 20lb of quality redfins the other day but I’ll tell you what, it wasn’t until I shallowed off to 3 feet and fished on the drop that I really sorted out the better quality fish and that was in 9 feet of water.

Meanwhile a trip to the Mexborough Canal broke new ground for me. It’s 5 minutes from home and I’ve never once drowned a maggot there. Funny how we do that, isn’t it, overlook the fishing that’s right beneath our noses? By all accounts it fished its nuts off during the recent heatwave (anyone still remember it?) and produced some very big roach. Has perch potential, too, I suspect.

Anyway, I had 50 roach or so in a few hours but one fish brought memories flooding back of the Trent in its heyday. It was not uncommon back then to catch roach that had golden cheeks and out of the blue I had one today. Happy days. 

A Gem Under My Nose?

I’ve dabbled on the Mexborough Canal, too. This one’s practically on my doorstep, nearer even than the Don itself and it, too, seems stuffed with fish although catching 50 roach in a few hours might sound like good sport I can’t help feeling I barely scratched the surface. Tales of specimen roach and big perch from folk who happened to be knocking around left me wondering whether I might be overlooking a little gem. I also learned of a sturgeon, caught on the pole in the past fortnight. And like the other two canals I’ve mentioned here, there’s a lot of water to go at. Around 25 metres wide and it’s 6 feet deep straight off the edge.

Commercial Break

I don’t understand the commercial snobbery that some anglers are very keen to display whenever there’s an opportunity. They regard commercial fisheries as less than worthy of their attentions and decry them constantly. I do wonder if any of these ‘experts’ – they always regard themselves as knowledgeable, special and very experienced, have actually fished a decent commercial in the past decade? There are some cracking commercials around. They’re not all muddy puddles and they hold far more variety than carp, carp and carp. Indeed they hold stocks of big roach, specimen perch (no doubt several have perch that would threaten if not break the current British Record, fabulous ide and in some cases, whacking great bream. And if they keep anglers away from your secretive little spots, where’s the harm in that?

I suspect these ‘experts’ are actually so useless they’re afraid of commercials and the anglers who fish there because there’s no surer way to demonstrate their inadequacies than to sit down next to someone who knows what he’s doing at one of these venues. Remove pellets and swimfeeders from the armoury of most barbel ‘experts’ and they’d take up golf. Tell them they have then have to catch in daylight and they’ll think you’re having a laugh! Compare that with a crack match angler in action…

I enjoyed a pleasant day with top roach angler Mike Townsend at a commercial recently and his versatility was in no doubt. We visited Sykehouse Fisheries, north of Doncaster, and our target species was roach. It’s odd, but once you know what you’re doing you get very little interference from carp. What’s more, I enjoyed it a lot more than having a barney with a bunch of strangers on a web forum. Perhaps others ought to try the alternative (to taking about fishing) and actually get out there and catch some fish!

Need To Get Hold Of One Of These…

I dropped in on Tim Ridge the other day while he was fishing a large pit for tench. He was baiting up with a small Spomb and it was impressive to see how accurately he was able to place his feed. The Spomb opened on impact every single cast and there was no spillage. Brian Skoyles first showed me one of these last year when we spent a day in an Essex tackle shop and they took my fancy even back then.

It’s time I got my finger out and obtained one.

Putting A Name To That Face

As I type, the number of followers who have ‘friended’ me on Facebook is currently just shy of 1,500 which is a flattering number in such a short time. Wonder who will be the one who turns the counter to 1,500? We’ll give him (or her) a namecheck on here when it happens.

You can find my page here or click the link at the top of the page.

Final Countdown

Spent 3 days tied up with the Green Un Club Match Angler Championship semi finals at the weekend. It’s a competition I’ve stewarded through 15 years of steady growth. In that time it’s attracted over £50,000 worth of sponsorship, this year we are honoured to have Daiwa Sports onboard. Not one penny is taken out in expenses, venues are nailed to the floor on ticket prices, indeed many have supplied lakes free of charge and we’ve gained thousands and thousands of column inches of news coverage.

This week alone, in a week when Sheffield Wednesday achieved promotion, a 37,000 crowd (in League One!), held a civic reception and the Blades begin their play-off campaign, we are still getting two full pages in colour in the Sheffield sports paper. That’s a massive result.

Yet however hard folk work to make it a success there’s always one, isn’t there. The man who has ‘a face like a bulldog licking piss off a nettle’ to quote Mark Wragg. Yep, there’s no pleasing some folk and it’s so frustrating. Instead of being grateful they moan at every little thing. Indeed, read it all, chapter and verse, here.

Oh well, at least there will be 24 happy punters who’ll be competing for £3,000 worth of prizes PLUS pools in next month’s final.

Doppelganger Time

Do you have a double? Allan Parberry (Mistral Baits) emailed me this week and suggested Ted Danson must have fallen on hard times if he’s reduced to performing as a Bob Roberts look-alike.

Do you have a look-alike? Or maybe a doppelganger.

According to the Merriem-Webster dictionary a doppelganger is a ghostly counterpart of a living person, a double, alter ego or a person who has the same name as another. For those who might be that bothered there’s even a Find My Doppelganger website where you can seek out your nearest celebrity look-alike. Alternative sites are Celebrity Morph, Picitup’s Celebrity Match Up or you might like Facebook’s phone app Celebrity Twin2me.

I can see some folk having lots of fun with those links although the devil in me suggests the likes of Steve Pope, Fred Bonney and a few others will get the treatment long before they get around to uploading their own images. But the results will be fun. Let me know how you get on but do play nicely, please!

Honestly, I haven’t tried it myself yet, although I may when I find a bit of spare time, but I did Google my own name. Come on, we’ve all done it, if only to discover what folk are saying about us behind our backs.

It was fun to learn I’m a ragtime musician and that I have a dedicated Youtube Channel in America. I’m even there on Twitter…

Well, not really. But it’s more fun than the ‘Annual Barbel In Keepnets Debate’, surely?

And just to top it all, Martin Lewis (Money Saving Expert and Breakfast TV) is on my case. He wants everyone to be Bob, too…

Escape To Fennel’s Priory

I met Nigel Hudson maybe three years ago in the White Horse at Blakeney. Back then he was working on a book which has morphed into a series of Journals. Nigel, or Fennel, as he’s known to his friends, has had the courage to do what many of us dream of. He’s turned his back on modern ways and gone back to a simpler way involving traditional things, village life, retro clothes, enjoying the outdoors, sketching and writing with a fountain pen. He even spent more than half a year living the life of a hermit, in a tent, by a lake, surrounded by woodland and pretty much living off the land. Of course freedom like that comes with a price tag and he needed to endure a kind of breakdown to get to that place, but he got there and is very happy in it.

When a couple of copies of his Fennel’s Priory Journal dropped onto my doormat I was impressed by the sheer quality of his product. They’re exquisite. High quality art paper, beautiful photographs, evocative writing, yet precise, simple, effective. I bought into it. I love it, although I would like him to live that life rather than me (it’s a change in pace that I couldn’t possibly cope with). Oh, and each journal represents one year in his life. The man will never be criticised for being too prolific!

But I can see where it might lead. What he has would make amazing TV. It’s the reality version of a Hugh Fearnley Whittingstall show, without the cooking, imaging and marketing. It’s the Good Life, but in a realistic way. It’s Jack Hargreaves. It’s Countryfile. It’s Waterlog. It’s quality Sunday newspaper stuff. It’s 1948, all over again. Or maybe 1928. But in trying to escape the present he’s inevitably created a brand. A potentially very powerful brand.

Have a look at the web site. Take your time, there’s no rush, indeed why not ‘Stop - Unplug - Escape - Enjoy’, as Fennel suggests.

It’s different. Unique, perhaps. Fennel fishes, but don’t expect too much fishing. He loves widlife, but it’s not David Attenborough. He enjoys breakfast, and we may share it with him. Its…, different.

But I’m hooked.

Buy a copy of the journal. Indulge him. And enjoy. Chances are you’ll want to read them all. I do.

Well Done Stu

I have to congratulate Stu on catching a new PB tench weighing 7lb 5oz. That might not sound like a monster to many but he’s caught it from a northern stillwater and that makes it a very special fish. Top job mate!

And mentioning Stu, he rang to say Sky have accepted outr latest film shot in the Andamans. It should be broadscast sometime in June. I’ll let you know when on my Facebook page.

Reels on Wheels At The World Carp Classic

I’ve been a patron of Nick Rowe’s Reels On Wheels Charity for a while now along with the likes of Bob Nudd, Mick Brown, Frank Warwick and laterly Julian Cundiff and Andy Little, so it’s great to receive updates about what they’re up to. You know I hear some folk moaning about their ills and general lot in life but they really haven’t got a clue. It’s the kind of moaning you seldom hear from the genuinely disabled.

Last year Nick and Jim Williams became the first disabled anglers to take part in the World Carp Classic at Lac de Madine, France. They’re hoping to go to Italy in September for another bash but sadly it will be Nick’s last year of competition fishing as his illness is getting worse. Nick will be making a video diary of the trip with talk of it being shown on prime time TV.

Unfortunately an adventure like this doesn’t come cheap and the pair are looking to raise £3,000 in sponsorship which sounds a lot but the publicity disabled angling will get will be worth ten times that amount. Any help, no matter how small will go some way towards realising their dream.

Indeed, click on this link and have a look at what such an expedition involves and a blog about their progress.

On The Goonch Trail

 

My old mate Macca (David McIntyre) has just returned from a trip to the Ramganga River (northern India) in search of goonch catfish. They might be ugly as sin but it’s a species I’ve always quite fancied catching although the nearest I’ve come to success is in finding a baby one of about 3 inches long. The guides always say, yes sir, big goonch here, but we never managed to hook one despite making half-hearted attempts in the Kali, Giri and Ganges rivers. Seems they’re pretty thin on the ground – just the kind of challenge that appeals to Macca.

 

 

 

It takes a determined approach to ignore the mahseer and focus on a catfish especially when the fishing is so frustrating. Apparently he lost a big one after fishing for a week or so, then he eventually produced the goods, landing 5 goonch – a 30lb tiddler, a 44, a 46,a lump weighing 77lb and finally a 108-ounder.

 

 

Top angling Macca. Well done sir! Shame about the speedos. Can I interest you in a pair of comfortable shorts perchance?

 

Salmon Fishing In The Yemen

 

Grabbed a chance to watch this excellent film the other day. Seriously, go see it. A glorious way to brighten up the closed season for anglers but just as funny if you don’t fish. My wife loved it.

 

 

Better still it’s British made and funded by a tax on the stupid, or lottery money to you and me…

 

Mike’s On Line

My fellow DVSG member Mike Townsend has set up his own web site and it looks rather nice. Mike considered the cheaper option of going down the blogspot route but decided instead to go for the full Monty, purchase  his domain name and teach himself how to use WordPress. He can now upload articles he’s written, write a blog, have photo albums and include everything you’d expect from a first class site.

You’ll find his site here. Do check it out. Good luck with all the hard work a venture like this entails Mike, you’ll need it!

Look, Shimano Is Shit, So Take My Advice, Don’t Buy Daiwa…?

Those folk from PETA (People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals) have got angling in their sights again and it seems they are more than happy to plumb new depths of hypocrisy with their ridiculous claims.

According to PETA, fish are intelligent animals with personalities. Indeed they claim fish form complex social relationships and ‘talk’ to one another underwater (Perhaps they’ve been reading the Pike Blog).

According to PETA fish can count and tell time, they are fast learners, they think ahead, they have unique personalities, and they may even have a sense of humour…

…unlike PETA followers and closed season forum posters. Boom, boom!

PETA’s latest statement Reads: If you wouldn’t put a hook through your dog’s mouth and drag him or her around, you shouldn’t do it to a fish. Which might be a fair point, except anglers are unlikely to forget that as recently as 2010 PETA ran an advertising campaign in which they actually stuck a hook through a dog’s lip to illustrate their point. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot!

To use a dog for publicity purposes in this way is pretty disgraceful by any stretch of the imagination but PETA’s own mistreatment of animals doesn’t end there. Although it preaches ‘total animal liberation’, government documents obtained through public records requests from the Virginia Department of Agriculture and Consumer Services reveal PETA has killed more than 25,000 animals (mostly dogs and cats) at its headquarters in Norfolk, Virginia alone, which suggests they really ought to get their own house in order before launching into an attack on angling.

Not A Good Year For The Rovers While Barnsley Dodge A Bullet

Thank God the football season’s over. To be fair Doncaster Rovers’ entire season was jeopardised during the opening game last August when Gus Poyet’s Brighton site got away with absolute murder. It was thuggery on a scale I’d not seen since the days of Charlton, Hunter and Bremner. Chopper Harris would have marvelled at Lewis Dunk’s brutality while Tommy Smith would have said something like, ‘That was a man’s game’.

The bottom line is we went from a winning position to having two players stretchered off, two more limped off injured and we had to play out the game with 10 men. With a crippled midfield and no forward outlets remaining Brighton were able to mount wave after wave of attacks but it still took them till the 98th minute to score a winner. How they finished with 11 men on the pitch still puzzles me. Seriously that second half was brutal stuff and it meant we would play the next two months without an effective forward line.

My only crumb of consolation is knowing that the same Lewis Dunk has been arrested and charged with sexually assaulting a woman and voyeurism by Sussex Police. The charges relate to an incident alleged to have taken place in Brighton on 17 July last year. With luck he’ll be found guilty and banged up for a long time and whilst he’s inside he can maybe reflect about the big smile and pat on the back and he got from his team mate after clogging Billy Sharp in that fateful opening game. Believe me, that one act of unpunished violence more than any other incident laid the seeds for Doncaster Rovers’ catastrophic demise.

Six games later Sean O’Driscoll was sacked in rather strange circumstances and a successor appointed who had no Football League management experience at all. Unbelievable. Dean Saunders, for Christ’s sake!!!! What were we playing at? And then it became clear, we were embarking on an experiment that involved recruiting stellar signings who were currently out of contract or out of favour with their current clubs on short-term contracts. Saunders had the original squad plus Beye, Chimbonda, Ikeme, Diouff, Ilumga, Plessis, Robert, Bagayoko, Plessis and Piquione – for Christ’s sake! My granny could have managed that team. Especially when existing squad members like Sharp, Stock, Spurr, Oster and O’Connor returned from injury…

So how come we finished the season with a run like this:

L D L D L L D D W D D L L L D L L L L D W L

We also lost our final 6 home games on the trot.

So what on earth possessed him to trot out this statement to the press: “I’m disappointed and I’ve got to hold my hands up because I thought I could keep us in the division, we nearly did it.”

No we bloody didn’t!!!!!!

We were the first club in all four divisions to be relegated. We amassed a grand total of 36 points, a full 12 short of safety with a GD of minus 37, the worst in the Championship by 12 clear goals. How does that equate to, ‘we nearly did it’ ? The man talks bollocks.

Unfortunately this is the clown who will oversee the greatest challenge in the history of the club. Relegation means we have no choice but to dismantle the entire squad. From next season a FFPR salary cap will apply to League One which means clubs can spend no more than 60% of turnover on players wages. In practical terms this means we cannot offer a competitive contract to any player who’s deal runs out in the summer. Unfortunately the wages of the 12 remaining contracted players will still exceed the budget cap by a million quid, so some of those will have to go as well and if we want to recruit new players then that will only be possible if even more of these contracted players can be offloaded.

There are no parachute payments from the Championship to League One and the loss of around £4m in TV revenues means budgets have to be slashed dramatically to meet the new rules or the club will face a transfer embargo. Hanging on to your quality players is simply not an option which therefore puts you at a huge disadvantage when selling these players.

In other words we’re pretty much starting from scratch in a league you underestimate at your peril with a clown of a manager who holds the ridiculous opinion that we ‘nearly did it’ this year. My gravest fear, should he remain in charge, is that we’ll be relegated again.

Meanwhile Barnsley dodged a bullet, surviving by the skins of their teeth courtesy of Portsmouth who were docked 10 points after entering administration. Had Portsmouth been better managed financially then Barnsley would be keeping us company next season in League One.

But good luck to the Dingles next season. Our six-fingered friends will be joined by at least one Sheffield club, hopefully two, which means if you throw in Leeds, Hull and Middlesborough, plus Forest and Derby, there will be some cracking local derbies to drool over, and yes, I envy them, because rest assured, there will be no Rovers return in the forseeable future.

The local paper published a very good article last week. It is well worth a read and hints at where everything really went down the pan.

But enough of the doom and gloom, if you want to see the funnier side of football check out our fanzine, Popular Stand Magazine which you’ll find several examples of on the excellent Issuu web site.

2012 Semi Final Reports From Hayfield Fisheries

What A Difference A Day Makes!

You would be forgiven for thinking our semi finals were fished on completely different venues, such was the difference in the two events held less than 24 hours apart. Sunday evening’s match was a bagging-fest that produced four ton-up weights and 95lbs was only good enough for 6th place. The following day, blighted by a cold wind and showers, proved a real grueller for many competitors.

Steve Bestall led the way in the first semi with over 120lbs of carp taken on the pellet waggler, a method that is dominating so many venues right now. It came as quite a shock for Steve who had convinced himself that Barrie Moat, pegged two pegs to his right, would beat him, “Every time I turned round he had a fish on!” Quipped Steve, who will now be making his first appearance in a Green Un final.

Monday morning’s qualifiers were met at the fishery with slate grey skies, a chilly breeze and temperature not too far above a ground frost. It didn’t need a genius to work out the match would start slowly but sport failed to improve for many anglers and it’s fair to say many had packed up and left before the final whistle which is crazy when you consider they only needed to win a 7 or 8 peg section to make the final.

But even the hardest day has to produce winners and it was former champion Kev Parkes who triumphed in a tense peg-to-peg battle with Mick Turton. Both anglers put their faith in pellet waggler tactics, pinging out just 2 or three pellets each cast hoping to provoke a reaction. It looked as though Turton had won, netting 12 carp to Parkes’ ten, but they were of a slightly smaller stamp which means Parkes will now be aiming for an unprecedented hat trick of Green Un Club Match Angler Championship titles.

Semi Final One Result: (Sunday)

1. Steve Bestall 120lb 6oz

2. Rob Burgin 105lbs 9oz

3. Ian Ward 100lbs 8oz

4. Barrie Moat 100lbs 3oz

5. Mick Todd 95lb 5oz

6. Mathew Marshall 95lbs 0oz

Semi Final Two Result: (Monday)

1. Kev Parkes 71lbs 6oz

2. Mick Turton 66lbs 10oz

3. Pete Stanley 56lbs 7oz

4. Dave Reynolds 55lbs 5oz

5. Geoff Hurt 51lbs 14oz

6. Richard Wardle 46lbs 3oz

Pine Lakes Here We Come… The Finalists 2012

One of the following 24 section winners from the two semi finals will be crowned the Green Un Club Match Angler Champion on Saturday 2nd June at Pine Lakes, near Thorne. The event carries prizes to the tune of £3,000 thanks to the generous sponsorship of Daiwa Sports, plus pools. Register at 08.00, draw 08.30, fishing 10.00 till 15.00. Spectators are welcome.

Andy Beighton; Steve Bestall; Mark Bissall; Mark Bows; Paul Bradley; Rob Burgin; Scott Clarkson; John Cornwall; Russ Derrett; Simon Ellis; Chris Haywood; Geoff Hurt; Steve Leng; Mathew Marshall; Craig Owen; Kev Parkes; David Patrickson; Mick Poss; Dave Reynolds; Charlie Russell; Brian Searle; Pete Spooner; Pete Stanley; Richard Wardle.

Special Mentions

Our thanks go to Dave Taylor at Hayfield Fisheries for hosting the event, Daiwa Sports for their sponsorship, not forgetting match organisers Pauline and Geoff Hurt who work tirelessly to ensure the event runs smoothly.

Footnote

The Green Un Club Match Angler Championship has been running for over 40 years and is probably the biggest independent match fishing competition of its kind in the entire country. It is free to enter and open to all clubs in the South Yorkshire/ North Notts area, roughly Sheffield, Rotherham, Doncaster, Barnsley and Chesterfield. Over 300 anglers from nearly a thousand matches were eligible to fish the semis, had they wanted to; every single one was a winner. These winners went head-to-head in the semis and it is the section winners from these matches that go forward to the final. There is no doubt that every single one of the 24 anglers competing in the final have earned the right to be there on merit and dedication. We wish them all the best of luck.

And Finally – There’s Always One, Eh?

Or should I call this tail piece bitter losers? Or sting in the tail?

Following the semi final I received an email from someone calling himself Blademan:

“i would have liked TWO shots at the final and so would every body else who did not qualify, so why did mr hurt  be able to fish the semi TWO days i and my son paid for one of the days we did not know we could have fished both SEMIS i advise you to sort this mess out a s a p  or we will file an official complaint thankyou”

The spelling and gramatical errors are exactly how they were typed. So I responded, exactly as those who know me would expect:

Dear Blademan,

Your bitterness should be directed towards me, not Geoff. He was invited to fish both days by me after giving 15 years solid service to the competition.

It is Geoff who does all the organising, listens to pathetic excuses from anglers who all want to fish but can’t be arsed to submit the entries (oh, our secretary sent them off, they must have got lost, etc), running to the bank to pay in cheques, get’s moaned at when crap anglers can’t catch fish, get’s moaned at because they don’t like the section they’ve drawn, the venue, the weather, Sheffield Wednesday getting promoted, immigration, income tax, unemplyment, the bank rate and basically just moan, moan, moan.

Do you realise it was Geoff who instigated the sponsorship from Climax Tackle? Did you complain about the £40,000 that was pumped into the event over 8 years?

And let’s not forget that it is Geoff who does the pegging, the weighing and basically wipes your arse! He and Pauline turn up to every semi and to every final at their own expense. He makes dozens and dozens of phone calls and it was MY decision to invite him to fish in both matches.

And by the way, he negotiated a £* discount for every angler over the two days and every penny of that went back into the pools so you could have another £*** to fish for.

As it happens he’s qualified for his first final in 15 years but do you know what? He’s attended every single one of them, driving hundreds of miles in the process and done all the donkey work for zero reward so if you think that’s a bit unfair you need to get a life! How many times have you rung up and said can I help out in any way, eh?

Let me put it to you this way, if you don’t like it you should start your own club match angler championship and see how much crap you have to put up with. But you won’t will you? If you had a shred of decency about you then you will be reconsidering your bitter outburst and thanking him for the effort he’s put in over 15 years and helping the competition grow from 40 qualifiers to over 300. Oh, and we get about one complaint a year… Congratulations, this year it’s you!

Anyway, you are more than welcome to make an official complaint, in fact please do so. It should be addressed to the competition organiser, which so happens to be me, Bob Roberts (greenun@sky.com). As I’ve said many times over the past 15 years, I make the rules and if you don’t like them then there’ll be no hard feelings if you choose not to enter.

I do hope that clarifies the situation for you?

Best regards,

Bob Roberts

It’s the first time that Geoff has qualified for the final although he’s turned up and run every single one of them, as a volunteer, at his own expense, including those on Woldview which is a near 150 mile round trip for him. Back in my tenth year in charge I offered Geoff an honoury place in the final to reward his efforts and commitment by adding an extra peg (21 instead of 20). You know what? He refused my offer. Instead he just turned up and ran the match, as always, like clockwork.

This year we had to run two semi finals because demand for places is increasing year-on-year and in response to this we’ve upped the number of places in the final to 24. I didn’t offer Geoff one of the additional 4 pegs, I simply gave him an opportunity to fish in both semi finals and qualify on merit because that’s the only way he would want it and frankly, in my book, he’d earned that opportunity.

Not one single competitor who turned up hoping to win a lot of cash and maybe get their hands on some of the three grand’s worth of prizes came forward beforehand and offered to help run the match. No, they simply expected everything to be laid on a plate for them, as always.

And that meant we needed, Geoff, Pauline, and son Geoff Jnr to be there for both days, 3 hours before the match, for its duration and nearly two hours afterwards for the weigh-in and compiling the results, giving out prizes and for what exactly? A bucketful of unwarranted criticism and jealousy. Pathetic, isn’t it?

Actually there were two complaints this year. The other one went like this:

Comment 1: I think the lad on Peg 21 Island lake has been done over. The scales were obviously not working correctly. They weighed him at 50 odd pound, he had that in each net. The lad on peg17 weighed 50lb and no way did he catch any where near peg 21.
Rematch me thinks

Comment 2: I was just wondering a lot of money was riding on winning, when were the scales last calibrated?

As always in situations where some is throwing serious accusations around I felt obliged to set the record straight:

Dear Simon,

Re: The comments you have left on my web site:

If you were to provide your full name, peg number and contact details I would be less likely to regard you as just another Internet crank because you are WRONG on so many counts!

The angler on Peg 17 did not weigh 50lb as you claim, he actually weighed 32lb 5oz. The angler on Peg 21 weighed 56lb 7oz and was top weight on the whole lake! Both anglers were in different sections and BOTH qualified for the final and therefore whatever spurious allegations you are making about the weighing it was fair, exactly the same for everyone and in no way affected the outcome.

The scales used to weigh the Island lake were exactly the same for ALL competitors, as was the process, and the same scales were used to weigh every competitor in the previous evening’s semi final. Not that I am in any way obliged to provide you with this information but it so happens the Fox Digitals used were calibrated in January this year. Several competitors suggested the fish were weighing ‘light’; however, it was the same for every participant. At no point did anyone suggest they weighed heavy for any particular angler – funny that, eh? You must also be aware that the angler on peg 21 did catch decent numbers of carp but the majority were F1s.

It is the responsibility of individul anglers to raise any issues they may have at the time of weighing, particularly if they feel they are being ‘done over’ (your accusation), not some by-stander sticking his nose in several hours after the event. Your ludicrous notion of a rematch beggars belief. How on earth would that help the angler on Peg 21 when he has already won the lake?

Bob Roberts

On Balance

Following this complaint and to satisfy our own integrity I asked Geoff to run a check on the scales yesterday. He went a step further and applied an identical weight to this and four other sets of scales, each used to weigh match catches. All produced results that were within an ounce of each other which means they are about as accurate as anyone could reasonably hope for from a set of scales used to weigh in club match anglers. Indeed I doubt the Fish’o'Mania scales are better than that.

The trouble is, these two guys, who felt so strongly they contacted me online, will be going around repeating the tale to anyone who’ll listen. Unless it is refuted it becomes a part of folklore, embelished even, to a point where a couple of folk with chips on their shoulders can cause a lot of damage. This afternoon I called into my nearest commercial fishery, just for a nose round, and whilst there I bumped into someone who, along with several others from his fishing club, fished the match. Let’s call him Alf.

Alf was full of praise for the semis, said everyone enjoyed it, it’s brilliant for club anglers and they’re really looking forward to the final (as two of his members are through) and to next year as well. He was shocked when I told him about the complaints but added, ‘No-one in their right mind wants to be a club match secretary because all you get is moans and complaints. I’d publish it in the paper,’ He said. Which I won’t, because it takes space up that will be better put to more positive stories, but I do think these things are worth airing on public platforms simply to put the record straight. Which is the beauty of the internet, eh?

Maybe our two complainants won’t be applying to fish next year, who knows, but one thing’s for sure they’ll be replaced by two more for that’s the way it is.

By the time you have read this I will have caught a 20lb carp…, I hope. Well that’s the plan anyway! I am becoming a ‘Carp Angler’ and will have done a fair bit of carping by then and that being the case the odds should be well in my favour as the venues I have chosen to concentrate on actually hold a fair head of carp to around the 40lb mark, although I don’t want one quite that big just yet… let’s learn how to walk before I start running.

I have already done a couple of day sessions with very little in the way of action apart from one skittish run that I missed and one massive lump that did me on a submerged snag – which did nothing to improve my mood at all.

The one thing I have noticed in carp fishing however is the total and utter preoccupation with rigs… I use some outlandish set-ups for barbel from time to time involving several types of hook length that are nailed down and joined together with blobs of Kryston rig putty and the occasional swivel but the bivvy-boys take it to another level altogether.

This Rig Works Perfectly Well...

They have rigs where they don’t even tie the hook onto the line, they attach it via a swivel so that it can rotate 360 degrees, now I am not going to fanny around that much as I cannot see the point on the venues that I have chosen to fish because they have more than a single fish in them and I will not be fishing sessions that last several months therefore I will not be needing to pass my time inventing ever more sophisticated methods of fooling what is in effect a waterpig whilst at the same time impressing my bankside carp buddies.

Not that they would show that they were impressed as a lot of carpers that I have come across seem to fall into two main camps the “Grunters” and the “Stoners”.

F1's Aren't Even A Species!

The “Grunters” seem to have devolved the ability to speak with more than one syllable; they also do the John Rambo thousand yard stare way more than is necessary, trying to get anything out of this lot is almost impossible (unless you tell them you are after bream and tench whereby they do improve somewhat and open up abit)

The “Stoners” on the other hand are a far more amiable bunch, unfortunately they do on occasion get right on your wick as they are loud and gregarious in nature as the burn their daily allocation of medicinal marijuana and consume their preferred libation of White Lightening Cider. They will tell you the story of the big fish that came out last week and they will show you what bait they are using… but for God sake do not let them know you have a mega pack of king sized Mars Bars in your packing up because if they run out of weed and get hit by a dose of the munchies at 2am they will come at you like a rabid pack of wild baboons.

Your only defence from this munchies attack would be to throw them the Mars Bars and try to persuade them that burning banana skins in Rizzla’s dipped in corn steeping liquor will give them an awesome legal high. My advice after that is to get the hell out of there as soon as possible before they realise CSL doesn’t burn very well and banana skins possess no medicinal or recreational qualities whatsoever.

There are also some other smaller sub-categories of carpers that one is likely to run into from time to time. One such type of carper is ‘The Caravan Commando’. Now these are not what you could class as rare but they are a very easy to overlook subspecies that tends to go unseen as they have completely taped over everything in their possession, including their two-berth caravan, in Realtree sticky tape.

I myself once cameacross one of these at the A1 Pits venue several years ago, a man so perfectlycamouflaged he only gave away his position because he was so troubled by his situation. I enquired as to what was upsetting him and found out that he had been visited the night previous by a marauding pack of “Stoners” who had been alerted to his capture of a mid-twenty by the gentle warbling of his Delkim TXi’s. It had all gone very well with the weighing and picture taking however it all went wrong shortlyafterwards when they made him a hot mug of celebratory mushroom tea.

Carp Can Be Proper Daft...

Soon after they moved on he noticed that his bait boat had turned into a fat black cane toad that had tried to bite him, his spod rod had turned into a huge writhing anaconda and his spod mix was made up of millions of little Michael Flatley-like people that were dancing like maniacs to Irish Folk Music and to make things worse he now realised that he could not find his arms and legs in the undergrowth.

After assuring him that everything was in order and telling him to take off his Real Tree outfit whereupon he found his missing limbs within a tangle of nylon nettles and gortexcrack willow shoots. Once again reunited with his extremities he seemed to recover somewhat and retreated to his leafy nest site to get a bit of sleep within his Fern patterned 4-season cocoon sleeping bag.

Another sub-species one should always expect to find is the ubiquitous single water expert or as the scientific fraternity would have them labelled the magnus caputcapitis or ‘big head’. These are quite harmless just so long as they do not feel threatened so avoid any direct eye contact and listen patiently as they sing their rather monotone territorial display song. Once they have done that they will move off as they have a very busy schedule which includes urinating on all the peg markers and ensuring that everyone knows that they are aware of every bar, weed bed, drop off and mussel colony.

The other category of carper that occasionally shows its face is the dreaded ‘Night Walker’ these are the scourge of all the sub-species of carper as they do not fish for the love of fishing rather they are as vampires that drain the very life blood from the waters that they illicitly frequent. These expert anglers could, if so possessed of the idea, catch a fish from a bucket. Theyswoop in unseen under the cover of darkness whereupon they remove their prey and return it to their own lakes so that they can fish for it at their own leisure, time after time after time. The Night Walkers are not interested in anything less than 20-pounders so those waters that are not in possession of such creatures generally escape their attentions.

Fishery owners spend more time fighting the actions of the Night Walkers than they do trying to correct the behavioural misdemeanours of their other regular carper species, such is the threat of the Night Walker.

Sunset Is When The 'Night Walkers' Emerge

Car keys must be handed over, night sessions pre-booked, names taken and boots checked as well as gates being locked and wild garlic growing within the boundary hedgerows (You didn’t think that stuff got there by accident did you?)

And as with all things of late the carping fraternity now has another species to contend with, one that has migrated into the UK as it sought to enlarged its original territory and one I found whilst fishing on the tidal Trent… the barbeque-loving ‘Carperovski Nospeakenglishii’.

Now these are a much misunderstood sub-species of the “Grunters” that have traits of the “Stoner” and the aggressively territorial “Bighead”. They take some getting to know but they are ok… I have two as friends in Tomas and Slavic. And more importantly they are harmless just so long as they can purchase their preferred BBQ food from the fish counter at Tesco Asda and Morrisons so don’t have a hissy fit when you see one or two coarse species for sale on the ice-covered fish slab. That is the better option because the other one is that they will begin to display traits of the ‘Night Walker’, however they will not be returning the fish to their own waters, rather they will separate fillet from bone and place the succulent curds upon the glowing embers so that they may feed their friends and families. They have a taste for the earthy and their appetite is gargantuan.

In fact given the choice I would rather see an otter on my fishery than a pack of hungy ‘Carperovski Nospeakenglishii’!!!

Anyway less of this and more of the rig tying… I am making Chod Rigs as I type…

Lee Practises Bagging-up At Drayton

See you all in a month when I will have hopefully caught my first 20-pounder and been crowned the Climax Angler of theYear at Alderfen…

Come and stop me if you can :O)

My bet is the winner will be DVSG :O)

TTFN !

Swordsey

“He’s Going to be so famous, one day.” Said Len Gurd, who I was filming with.

24 hours later I’d moved out of my lodgings at Adam’s Mill (yes, THAT Adam’s Mill) and moved in with Matt and his family. Back then he’d published one mainstream article about chub, I think, for the Anglers Mail. A little while later I introduced Matt to Keith Higginbottom, editor of the Angling Times and the rest, as they say, is history.

Matt and I enjoyed some memorable times together, so maybe I might be accused of bias when I review this book, but what you cannot argue with is quality and excellence which is what Matt’s photographs reek of. Matt is a damn fine photographer. Indeed don’t take my word for it, check out the extract I’ve just placed on my Scribd page. It simply speaks for itself. Just click on the image above to see the extract or one of those below to see how you can purchase a copy today.

There will be a standard edition of Fisheye, available from Calm Productions at £29.99 and a limited edition version (1,000 copies) at £49.99

Spring is an odd time to launch this book. It would have dovetailed perfectly into the Christmas market as it’s one of those books you might sit down with on a bitter cold winter’s evening and long for the coming summer, remember those hazy days and golden memories. But who cares, it’ll still do the job next winter, the secret being to make sure you pick up a copy while it’s stilt available.

One for the all-rounder to treasure.

Having fished in locations around the world and experienced many different cultures it’s difficult not to come to a conclusion that some folk are far too precious. I eat fish. Chances are you do, too. Doesn’t matter if it’s a bit of cod or haddock down the chippie, or a fish finger from Tesco, or kippers for breakfast, we all eat fish. And shellfish. Fish are food. Tinned tuna, salmon, sardines, prawns, cockles and so on are fair game it seems. 

I know folk who say they only eat fish caught by sustainable methods – line caught bass for example – yet it’s still fish. Yes, it is sustainable (we think) but it still results in a dead fish. What we’re actually protecting is not a fish at all but rather the opportunity to catch it again. If we cared so much for the fish we might decide not to catch it in the first place…

Meanwhile those who think that farmed fish are fine because they’re bred for the table are conveniently ignoring the ecological consequences of fish farming. And what are they fed on? Pellets made from other fish.

Anglers use these same pellets all the time to catch a multitude of species and lest we forget, fishmeal boilies are made from fish, too, so come on folks, there’s a degree of double standards here. Plenty of anglers use fish as baits and whether they are live or dead, sea or freshwater doesn’t come into it. They’re fish. It just seems that some species are more special than others and that’s where a ’code of practise’ for fish care is fundamentally flawed. It’s fish apartheid but let’s not forget that none of these codes have any legal standing. They are all advisory.

So next time you are about to bash out another tirade on your computer, why not stop and think for a second. The folk who have spent time and effort on creating a code, promoting it and encouraging better practises are at least doing something positive. If you think you can do better why not prove it rather than attacking those who at least have a go?

Death Of A Princess

I felt no remorse a couple of weeks ago when catching some fine tuna that went straight in the boat’s well. Fresh tuna steaks for dinner were just fine by me. Oddly I found myself struggling with the death of a different fish a few days later. Indeed I was horrified and it affected me deeply. You see, in my head it appears to work like this. The sea is big and some species are bountiful. I catch cod from the North Sea on rod and line and feel quite comfortable to take a dozen fillets home with me, but see trawling as an evil. Beam trawling destroys the very environment they live on. So maybe I’m not guilty of double standards in this case.

But certain species are thin on the ground to the point of being genuinely rare and I would never deliberately kill one. During our trip to the Andaman Islands at the eastern end of the Bay Of Bengal after GTs and Doggies, plus anything else that might happen along on lures and jigs, I was offered a chance to try for a marlin using stand-up fighting gear from the same small boat. Of course I agreed to give it a go even though I thought it was probably a very long shot. Amazingly we rose a marlin to the lure but it failed to grab it properly.

That was a real buzz, I can tell you. What I had not really done was consider all the outcomes in advance. Yes I expected an epic battle that carried the risk of being pulled overboard if I was truly unlucky but what else? I genuinely didn’t know because this, to me, was a venture into the unknown.

And then the sister boat, following half a mile behind in our wake, rose a marlin at the same spot, possibly the very one that came to our lure, only this time it hit properly and was hooked. In the distance we watched it leap clear of the water  several times. To actually be there and witness this was spectacular. A million miles removed from seeing it on the telly. So we kept a safe distance and watched the battle unfold. Eventually a marlin weighing all of 300lb was brought alongside the boat – what a creature! The princess of all the seas. I had never seen one this close before and was truly in awe.

The hook was nicely nicked in the scissors and could have been twisted out in a flash. I would have been so impressed had the fish been released, after all the skill in fishing is in the safe release rather than the capture. It’s what we stand for and how we defend our actions to a non-fishing audience. Unfortunately total euphoria had broken out on the other boat. Folk wanted their picture, their moment of glory, and from the moment the struggle began to get 300lbs of magnificence on board that fish was condemned to death. It didn’t stand a chance of survival.

I watched in horror as it was clumsilly haulled inboard with a huge combined effort and then came the first ooze of dark red blood from its gill plate. The captors were oblivious. They wanted to lay on it, lay by it, have it hoist onto their knees for the obligatory team shot and the clock was ticking – not that it mattered. By now I’d climbed back into the other boat and put my camera away. I wanted no part of this gruesome carnage. If you could have teleported me the 6,000 miles back home at that very moment I would have taken it.

Yet at the risk of being called a hypocrit I would be tucking into a fresh tuna steak later, a fish that I had caught personally and condemned to death. Where’s the logic in that?

After a while, amid the whooping and celebrations, someone suggested it was time to return the fish. Our skipper simply shook his head. He was aware, probably before I was, that this fish had paid the ultimate price for a trophy photo. He also knew that it would provide him with some great publicity but the disappointment and sadness was painfully apparent in his eyes.

Me? I was sickened. It was like watching the ritual slaughter of a prisoner, or a car crash that you can do nothing to prevent. I felt impotent. I wanted to scream STOP!!! But there was nothing I could have done that would have made any difference and it put a dampener on my enjoyment of the rest of my trip. I certainly didn’t have any desire to try for another billfish and I’m not sure if I ever will in the future. For it struck home to me how often this is the outcome. Yes, big game anglers talk catch and release but do they actually practise it? The photos of fish hung upside down from dockside gantries are now frowned upon but how many of those photos we see taken at sea still result in the fish losing it’s life? Far too many I suspect. It goes with the territory.

When anglers have parted with that much cash they expect to have a photo they can show to their friends. It’s not for me I’m afraid, I’ll stick with my GTs and tuna, thanks. Needless to say the three of us agreed we’d not bother trying again for a marlin on this trip.

I’m not going to write much about the Andamans Trip as we made a film for Sky TV whilst out there. After it’s broadcast then it’ll be available on Stu’s Youtube channel and on the front page of this site, plus I’ll highlight it in the blog. Rather than tell you what we caught I’m sure you’ll appreciate seeing what we caught in High Definition instead.

Salmon Fishing In The Yemen

Swiftly lightening the mood, Paul Torday’s unlikely tale about introducing salmon to the Yemen is probably the funniest angling book I’ve  ever read. No, make that definitely the funniest. And now it’s a film. Salmon Fishing In The Yemen is a political farce that might have been a logical extension of the TV series Yes Minister. Whitehall gone mad with an underlying element of truth.

Looks like it has a strongcast and a screenplay by the writer of Slumdog millionaire. Certainly the trailer alone is enough inspire a cinema visit. Can’t wait!

On the other hand, if you don’t fancy the movie, treat yourself to the book. You won’t regret it.

Getting Around

I do apologise for the lack of coarse fishing in this blog but that’s because I’ve spent a big chunk of the past month out of the country. There was hardly time to unpack after my trip to the exotic east before hitting the skies again, this time I was heading west. Overnight stop in Manchester and then it was on to Philadelphia. Seemed odd to be negotiating snow on the Pennines after the heat of Asia. But hey, my final destination would be the Caribbean for a week of luxurious pampering aboard a cruise ship so I could hardly complain.

Also, an overnight stay had been built into the start of the trip. Originally the plan was to spend a night in Puerto Rica but when I received the flight details I was straight back on the phone. Would you like a return journey that involved hanging around on the ship and in an airport for 8 hours, a long-haul flight to Madrid ( followed by a 3-hour wait), a flight to Heathrow (then a 7-hour wait) and finally a flight to Manchester to pick up the car?

Nah, we could do better than that and eventually we agreed changes at Philadelphia with an overnight stay during the outward flight. Perfect. Must say I loved Philly! Great transport links, too. We did the tourist stuff – open topped London bus tour, the Liberty Bell, the steps where Rocky trained, Al Capone’s jail, Rodin’s museum and loads, loads more. It’s a sensational place to visit and someday I’d like to return. Perhaps even fit in a bit of carping on the Delaware River – you never know.

And on that subject, check out this short clip from the Delaware:

And this one:

And perhaps we might now reconsider that fish care discussion again. Unless the hysterically disposed brothers of the angle have already suffered an apoplectic fit! You see everything is about degrees and understanding, local customs and practises, not being holier than thou. When in Rome I’m afraid we should do as the Romans do…

Education might change the mentality whereas castigation and criticism will get us nowhere.

Chillin’ Time 

Early the next morning we jumped the red-eye flight to San Juan and guess what? It was tipping down in the tropics. Rain bouncing high off the sidewalk. Oh well, who cares, we’d soon be on-board and supping champagne – it’s a hard life!

Cruising is something everyone should try once in their lives. I went on my first cruise just to keep the peace, convinced I’d hate it. Needless to say I’ve been on at least one a year since and hope to fit in another before the summer’s over. Quality rooms, gourmet food, fantastic live entertainment and you wake up with a new country to explore each morning. What is there not to like? You can certainly meet up with some interesting folk, too.

Ever wondered who looks after those dangerous extra-extra high security prisoners in America? I’m talking about the ones who have gone on killing sprees and rampages, knife crime, gun crime, serial killers, and folk who’d murder for a cigarette, the ones who have to be kept in permanent solitary because they are a threat to the safety of anyone near them including other prisoners?

I shared a dining table with a prison guard who’s job was exactly that. Hoods, gang bosses, notorious headline killers like Son Of Sam and so on. Fascinating stuff. The prisoners get one hour alone in an outdoor cage each day, the other 23 are spent in a cell with nothing to do but exercise. These guys turn into blocks of solid muscle and should they go off on one, as they frequently do, it will take as many as 6 guards to overpower them.

Dangerous, dangerous people, who, when they’ve served their time are released back into the community. There is no effort to reform, they are not penitent, they are as deranged on the day they leave as on the day they arrive. Time served and back to whence they came with a badge of honour. Killing, violence and doing time is the currency of respect in their world and they are enriched by the experience.

Meeting up with one of those in real life would put a chill up your spine, eh?

Not that it crossed my mind much as we swanned around the Eastern Caribbean, dodging showers, tramping through rain forest, sugar plantations, along glorious beaches and adding inches to the waistline. I ate some of the finest steaks ever but on the penultimate dinner I was faced with a huge dilemma, whether to have lobster tail or Chateaubriand – the finest cut of tenderloin steak you can get. Probably my two favourite indulgent meals of all time and both on the same evening’s menu. Why, oh why, couldn’t they have been on different nights? I pondered for too long, so Carlos offered the perfect solution, ‘How about I bring you both…?’

Which he did!

Maybe I really had died and gone to heaven.

Greedy? Yep, without a doubt. But I assuaged my heavy conscience with a light breakfast and a light lunch the following day so that’s okay I guess.

Oh, and it was raining even harder when we returned to San Juan. If this weather is typical then Puerto Rico’s pretty low on my places to revisit in a hurry.

On our return to Manchester Airport the shuttle driver pointed to a bunch of protesters outside Terminal 1 who were being marshalled by just three (armed) policemen. They were Syrians, he claimed, so I asked what they were protesting over. ‘Dunno…,’ He replied, ‘Probably the Syrian branch of the Man U supporters club protesting over ticket prices!’

I’m guessing he was a City fan.

The Facebook Effect

It’s not that many months since I took my first tentative steps into the world of Facebook. To be honest it made me a little nervous and uncomfortable. Some of my peers said I needed to be there but if I’m honest I saw it mainly as the tool of communication for the feral generation, you know, the folk who appear on Jeremy Kyle each day, and young kids. Perhaps I was a generation too old for such a phenomenon. After all, why would I want to read a post telling me my next door neighbor had put the bins out? I could look out of the window and see that, or someone was having a coffee in Starbucks?

The only time I’d encountered social networking sites was as a result school issues. Turns out some primary school parents can be pretty resentful towards those who work in education while kids can be hurtful to each other and Facebook is frequently their weapon of choice. Still, I proceded with a degree of caution.

Determined to find out more about the phenomenon I bought a copy of the Facebook Effect (David Kirkpatrick) to read on holiday. The book reinforces what I’d seen in the film about Mark Zuckerberg, Facebook’s founder. Here we have an idealist, a multi-millionaire in his early twenties with no interest in material things or even being rich. He wants to change the world and is hell bent on doing that through openness. The concept is we live our life in a more exposed way and by having no secrets we behave better.

Facebook began as a networking tool in specific US campuses. A way of communicating quickly with friends and finding people you either knew or with whom you shared common interests. The story of how it grew is pretty much seat of the pants stuff but it now stands as one of the most desirable tech stocks in the world, except the owner refuses to even consider selling or relinquishing control despite the fact it would make him rich beyond imagination.

I have to say my personal experiences with it so far have been good. In no time at all I found myself with over 1,400 friends, a number that appears to expand daily, which is nice because Facebook is a fantastic communication tool and it links in nicely with this web site and my Scribd page. Trouble is, all this social networking eats up good fishing time and it highlights the huge difficulties facing the next generation of budding young fishing media superstars.

To stand a chance of becoming the next Matt Hayes or Martin Bowler you’ll need to develop a whole new skill set outside of fishing. You must learn to take good photographs for starters and be able to write. That should go without saying, but these days you need to be very creative with your photography, master the basics (at least) of Photoshop, and you’d be a fool if you didn’t create a Facebook site. From there a decent web site should be almost mandatory and that will require constant updating. But as broadband speeds increase we simply must get video content online, too, and that means learning how to film and edit. Of course, I’m avoiding as best I can the temptation to Tweet and Witter but be in no doubt, this will come.

Oh, and do you have the bottle and persona for live television and radio?

Somewhere in the midst of all this you need to earn a living and what’s that other thing I’ve forgotten – oh, that’s it, you need to develop your angling skills and catch fish, lots of them preferably! That’s a lot of dominoes to line up when the end product is an article in a magazine for which you’ll maybe get paid a hundred quid… Or on the Internet where you’ll get paid bugger all. And don’t go thinking this package comes with healthcare benefits and a fat pension, or that your sponsors will provide you with a computer, cameras, smart phone, company car and so on like others can expect. For all that the buck stops with you my friend.

Oh, and the various angling Societies will be beating your door down if you’re prepared to drive half way around the country and deliver a slide show talk. Unfortunately they won’t want to pay you a bean for your time, which will be considerable because you’ll spend days preparing that slick Powerpoint demonstration (another skill set) and then there’s the time and expense of the trip (door-to-door), wear and tear on your vehicle, subsistence and so on while simply getting to and from the venue. Of course most will offer a few quid to cover your diesel before asking if you might donate a book or DVD to the raffle. Lord only knows where the takings go.

No, I don’t envy anyone who’s trying to break into the ranks of the so-called full time angler today. Perhaps they think sponsorship is the holy grail but they’ll get a shock there as well. Very few sponsored anglers actually receive any cash and for many the best they can ever hope for is a bit of a discounted gear.

Oh to be a Zuckerberg.

Will Crook Rob Us Of A New Record?

I see that a bream weighing in excess of the current record has been landed (23lb) and I sincerely hope that the captor, Scot Crook, is going to submit a claim. It is believed to be the same fish caught by Mark McKenna in 2009, then weighing 22lb 9oz, from Ferry Lagoon, Cambridgeshire, a fish that would almost certainly have been accepted as a new official record had Mark submitted a claim. Unfortunately, because he was fishing for carp at the time, he declined to do so.

Whilst respecting his right not to submit a claim I believe Mark was wrong and here’s why. The British Rod Caught record list is not about the angler or his tactics, it is about the largest fish of a given species caught by fair means on rod and line. Doesn’t matter if he was using a Daiwa rod, a Shimano Reel, a Korda lead, a Fox hook, or a Drennan landing net, a Nash unhooking mat, Salter scales, humble worm or high protein bait. Nor does it matter that it was an accidental capture.

The British Record Rod Caught Fish List is a historical record which charts the authenticated maximum growth of fish over time. That stands for something, otherwise what’s the point of having a list in the first place? We cannot have two lists, one with authenticated captures and another with nudge-nudge fish that Fred caught. There’s a process which determines authenticity using common guidelines. This involves testing scales, witness statements, photographic evidence and so on. But the bottom line is always the same, the fish is the record not the captor.

That’s why I believe the committee was wrong to throw out that Thames perch a while back. Agreed it was poached from a marina by some guy without a license. Clearly the captor was a wrong-un, but was it a record? Afraid it was, the fish was innocent.

Cover Star And One That Got Away…

I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being ever so slightly chuffed to be on the cover of the latest Improve Your Coarse Fishing magazine. Especially as it only arose out of a bit of a social day with Improve editor, Kev Green, last spring. I was tenching and he dropped by to boil a kettle or three while we put the world to rights and I happened to catch a few fish. After half a dozen fish he decided this was far too good an opportunity to miss. The light was good, the surroundings lush and green and the fish were immaculate, as they so often are in carp waters. It was possibly the most relaxed feature I’ve ever shot and one of the prettiest to boot.

The only downside of getting the cover and a full-length feature article was that my diary for that month had to be dropped, despite it being written up and laid out, ready to publish (I guess there’s only so much Bob Roberts bulls**t anyone wants to read in one mag!). Anyway, Kev kindly let me have the PDF of the article that never was and you may read it here if you like – it’s the diary that nearly got away.

Just Click on the image and it’ll take you to my Scribd page where you’ll find this and several dozen other articles.

Gone Phishing

Received an email today informing me that someone had attempted to log into my Co-operative bank account three times using the wrong password. There was something fishy about it though.

Could it be that I don’t have a Co-op bank account, perhaps?

Floody Hell It’s Raining!

Isn’t it fabulous to see all this brown water in our rivers again? My local river looks well full and I’m guessing the snow and rain of the past few weeks has done a little bit of good for the water table but there’s no reason to think we can start squandering water again because it won’t last, will it?

I’m surprised more folk aren’t out tench fishing. I guess they’re waiting for those warm, misty mornings when wisps of mist rise like ghostly figures in the margins. Classic red tipped floats up against the lily pads and all that but do you know what? I reckon tench are driven by daylight hours rather than air temperature. Late April through the middle of May is probably the most productive time of the year for tench, something that Stu and James have already begun to prove.

They’ve been fishing one of the ‘Shires and catching a fair number of nice fish already. Not massive fish but that’s to be expected. The monsters that turn up in Southern gravel pits are certainly not the norm in these parts.

Good angling guys. I’ll be dusting my rods off this week, too.

Gee Thanks Saunders!

Well, the inevitable has been confirmed. Donny have been relegated from the Championship. That’s what you get when you loose faith in a miracle worker and replace him with a clown from the Conference. It was obvious from day one that Dean Saunders was way out of his depth. I coined his nickname ‘Soundbite’ which aptly describes his only redeeming ability. Seeing him standing there helpless on the touchline in the early days was painful - akin to watching a rabbit in a car’s headlights but what followed was worse.

The team’s recent record is: L D L D L L D D W D D L L L D L L L L D

Here are just a few of his ridiculous soundbites:

I’m so excited by this challenge.

There are all sorts of things wrong with the club that I can put right.

I know what is needed with the team. I know what our faults are.

I know I can get a winning team on the pitch.

I’m confident we can go anywhere and get a result.

We have got nothing to fear in this league. We have matched every team we have played.

I hadn’t gone 19 games without a win so my mind was quite clear and I was positive about winning. That’s why sometimes a new manager has an effect on players.

Some people have asked me ‘Where did it all go wrong?’ But I don’t think it has gone wrong. It’s got better but it was just not good enough to stay up.

You wouldn’t have got a very good price on us staying up when I walked in.

I don’t want to be judged on this season.

I quite enjoy being under pressure. There is nothing worse than just floating half way up the league.

Really mate? What kind of idiot thinks relegation and the loss of about £8m in revenue is better than floating half way up the league? This is a results business and you’re a failure. The facts speak for themself, don’t they?

One win in 20 games with the likes of Diouf, Chimbonda, Beye, Fortune, Ikeme and countless other ‘stars’ at his disposal is simply unacceptable. It’s time to go sir.

When Saunders arrived Chairman John Ryan told the media he hadn’t ruled out making the play-offs this season and we’d definitely be pushing for the Premiership next season. Barely seven months later we’re consigned to the Third division, the first team in all four divisions to be relegated, but what gripes most is he never accepts an ounce of responsibility for the team’s failures. Nothing is Saunders’ fault and if he’s still in charge next season then I fear we’re more likely to be heading towards the trapdoor of uncertainty than bouncing straight back. I’m certainly not ruling out consecutive relegations because I don’t believe we can even afford to sack him. Clearly he’s unlikely to do the honourable thing and fall on his sword because who else would now employ him?

Oh well, at least it’ll give the deluded Leeds fans something to chortle about, even if half of them do actually live in Donny.

However, the diary was written,designed and laid out just in case the tench feature was held over for the next issue, so, in fairness, it’s completely dead in the water as far as Improve is concerned, so, they’ve kindly let me publish the diary on my Scribd page. Just click on the link and you can enlarge it or even save it if you wish.

Please feel free to have a look and let me know if you like the format. I appreciate there’s a degree of material cross-over between my blog and the diary, both relate to my recent fishing but I’m sure you’ll appreciate the writing style is completely different, as are some of the images…

GREEN UN CLUB MATCH ANGLER CHAMPIONSHIP SEMI FINAL (Sun 6th May)

Attention All Semi Finalists

Many readers will already be aware that Hayfield Fisheries is under new management. Indeed the booking arrangements have changed hands three times since we set the date for a second semi final on Sunday May 6th and it would appear our worst nightmare has happened. The booking was lost in the transfer of documents but fear not, this simply means the Sunday semi still goes ahead (at Hayfield) but will kick off later than originally planned.

It will help if keen club anglers out there pass on this information to their friends and anyone who might be affected. On the other hand if you want to take part in the Green Un Championship then it’s up to each individual to make sure he or she sees a copy of the Green Un newspaper, or at least checks the competition web page (here).

The draw for the SUNDAY semi final will now take place from 2.30pm with fishing from 4pm till 9pm.

Monday’s match is unaffected. There is no change to the second semi final. That draw will take place, as planned, on the 7th at 8.30am with fishing from 10am till 3pm.

As always, local fishery rules apply and the following is a summary of the Hayfield Fishery Rules:

Fishery’s own feed pellets only – on sale in the bait cabin

Barbless hooks only (no nipped or micro barbed)

Largest allowed hook is size 10 (no long shank or wide gape)

In-line method feeders only

No braided lines (including hook lengths)

No fixed rigs

The following baits are banned: All floating baits, bread, boilies, trout pellet, cat & dog meat

No opened cans or glass on the bank

As in previous Green Un semi final matches we will allow the use of floating poles but the length used must be restricted to no more than 16 metres

Any angler breaking these rules will be disqualified.

With two semis taking place for the first time ever the question of qualifying places in the final has been raised several times and I’m happy to explain the process.

A minimum of 20 anglers will fish the final on Monday 4th June at Pine Lakes, although we are currently considering making this 24 (Pine Lake has 24 pegs). This way the advantage of ‘end’ or ‘spare’ pegs is taken out of the equation.

Qualification will be based on a pro-rata basis. Let us imagine, for example, that twice as many anglers fish on one of the semis. In that case the bigger match will provide two-thirds of the final qualifiers. If each match attracts an identical number of anglers then each will generate an equal number of qualifiers and so on.

To qualify for the final where £3,000 worth of Daiwa sponsored prizes are up for grabs you simply have to win your section in the semi final.

Don’t forget, if you missed the published list of qualifiers don’t worry, full details can be found on my web site. Go to www.bobrobertsonline.co.uk and click the Green Un tab.

If your name is in the list below you simply need to make out a cheque or postal order for £20 to cover pools and pegging, payable to Green Un Match Anglers Championship and post it to the match organiser:

Geoff Hurt

36 Hazelbarrow Road

Jordanthorpe

Sheffield

S8 8AW

Tel: 07921 166136

Multiple entries can be made in the same envelope using one cheque or postal order providing you clearly state the names of the entrants and provide a telephone number. Make sure you clearly state which match you want to fish – the Sunday or the Monday. Good luck!

Paradise Cats Have Woken Up

Catfish are now well on the prowl at Anglers Paradise and the Main Lake has already produced one weighing 53lbs to Stuart Vivash. Unfortunately he still uses a 35mm film camera so I’m waiting to see whether I will get a digital image anytime soon. I do hope so. Meanwhile you’ll have to make do with this beast:

It weighed 37lbs 2oz and was caught from the day ticket complex, Anglers Nirvana, by Martin “Geek” Smith.

Down The Drain

I spent a few pleasant hours wobbling deadbaits the other day. It was never meant to be a serious session, the sun was shining and I had a gut feeling that I might nobble a few pike if I made the effort. Looks like someone else has found my ‘secret’ drain as it was clear that the rushes have been flattened every 30 yards or so, presumably by someone chucking lures.

I took two rods, one to float fish a static deadbait, the other to work either side of it, just casting around with a wobbled deadbait. It was easy enough to cover fifty to a hundred yards every ten minutes or so but even this seemed desperately slow as I could see nearly 2 miles of drain stretching out into the distance. So much water to cover and a good chance the fish would be gathering in certain spots to spawn. Oh, to know where they are!

My hope was that I’d keep on the move and eventually find a fish or two. Ten minutes in I connected with a very ambitious jack that wasn’t a great deal bigger than my wobbled bait. Anticipation rose but soon fell. Nothing else responded in the area. In fact nothing else responded in the next few hours. I was shocked if I’m honest but way ahead in the distance lay what I thought might be a banker swim. A swim where the water is deeper and there are two overhanging bushes.

I soon started skipping areas to get there. Alas it was to prove a disappointment. I did have a take but the pike I brought to the surface was smaller even than the previous one. Oh dear.

It was a long walk back to the van.

Get In Ken!

Regular readers might remember my article about last years coaching week on the Wye when I was joined by ‘The Blues Brothers’. Two guys from opposite ends of the country who brought so much fun to the party. Can’t tell you how pleased I am that they’ve rebooked this year and joined the list of returning regulars – folk who make it a real pleasure to spend a week with – so much so that what began as a simple weekend has become two sold out weeks.

Anyway, one of the pair I dubbed the Blues Brothers (a reference to their shades) is Ken, something of a barbel fanatic who fishes the Hampshire Avon most of the time. He thinks nothing of going 3 weeks without a bite even in the warmer months so you can imagine he found the Wye rather more prolific!

Anyway, he’s just upped his PB with a stonking fish weighing 15lb 9oz. Well done Ken, I know exactly how much that fish means to you. Roll on summer, eh?

Why Should The Victim Pay?

Andy Harper left an interesting comment beneath a recent blog suggesting anglers should fund proper scientific research into the effects of predation. Andy and I have known each other for a long time, indeed I was with Andy when I fished the Dove at Tutbury for the first time about 12 years ago. But I digress. His post set me thinking and it didn’t take me long to realise we are coming at this situation from the wrong end of the spectrum.

Who is the victim in this scenario? Legislation was (mistakenly) afforded to carbo sinensis which has since swept across Europe and subsequently caused havoc to inland UK fisheries. Has their error affected anyone in the European Parliament? No. Has it affected the bird watching possibilities of one single RSPB member? No.

It has certainly impacted on fish, anglers and angling. Clearly we are the victims of an injustice so why are we talking about funding lengthy and costly scientific research? Those who support the European Act should be the ones who pay, not the victim. All the evidence I need can be seen in the photo above.

Same goes for otters. Otters are killing specimen fish at a prodigious rate across the length and breadth of this country. They do this because they were stupidly bred, released and encouraged to spread in an environment where their natural food source had clearly and dramatically diminished. Who undertook the scientific research that said re-introducing otters wouldn’t have a detrimental mental impact on angling and the environment? Did anyone undertake a thorough environmental impact survey before undertaking this programme? I doubt it very much.

Otters were bred, spread and encouraged to flourish with no thought whatsoever. There was no funding for ongoing monitoring, nor was there an end-game or a contingency plan if it went horribly wrong, as it is doing. Those who undertook this ‘experiment’ should be shot along with most of the otters until a situation is reached where the waterways can realistically sustain them! They should certainly be held responsible for their actions and compensate anyone who has suffered measurable financial loss or had to fund preventative measures as a result. This is the UK. We are supposed to have an educated and civilised population. Crime is punished and victims are compensated.

We are supposed to care about all of nature. It’s time the Angling Trust woke up and demanded some action. It is not up to anglers to fund research, it is our right to demand research and those who support change are the ones who must defend their position by paying for what they believe in. Nor should it be our responsibility to fund protection measures against an introduced predator. It’s time the Government stood up and made these folk accountable for their actions and gave anglers the power to protect their interests.

And this leads me nicely into the closed season. Again, we’re back to research and costs. The Closed season was not introduced by Neandertal man, nor God. It was introduced by a non-angler – and quite recently, too. It was never meant to protect coarse fish. Currently it affects about 3 per cent of anglers as I see it. The rest fish on regardless on commercials and stillwaters.

Even that staunch defender of the closed season, Keith Arthur, on his own radio show last sunday, admitted he did fish occasionally in the closed season – but it was okay because it was on artificial waters and that when he fished it was for was work. Sorry Keith. Fishing for work is no different to fishing for pleasure. It’s fishing. The motivation is irrelevant. I say keep on fishing and keep up the good work, enjoy it, but don’t try and convince me it’s okay because money is involved. The fishery might be artificial but the fish aren’t. All open or all shut, I say. Simply protect the spawning areas at the appropriate time – commercials included.

I would like to see the closed season abolished forthwith with the proviso that those who disagree can organise themselves and fund the research that proves conclusively angling in that random period has a negative impact and campaign for its reintroduction. After all, unless we do it this way, any research into angling impact is nothing more than supposition, guesswork and gut feelings. Go on guys, prove that abolishing the closed season is detrimental.

The world has changed dramatically since the Mundella Act was introduced. Just because it exists does not mean it is just. After all we don’t recognise and abide by every ancient law on the statute book today. For instance, it is illegal for a Member of Parliament to enter the House of Commons wearing a full coat of armour and in London, Hackney taxis must carry a bale of hay and a sack of oats. In Hereford, you may not shoot a Welsh person on Sunday with a longbow in the Cathedral Close, while in Chester you can only shoot a Welsh person with a bow and arrow inside the city walls and after midnight. Also in York, excluding Sundays, it is apparently legal to shoot a Scotsman with a bow and arrow.

The Law is an ass at times wheras the Mundella Act is a seaside donkey with a clown on its back. 

More to the point, Parliament is suspending the Sunday Trading Laws for the duration of the Olympics because there’s a few bob to be made – we shall now call that the Arther defence – which proves just how readily a law can be manipulated to suit a situation if there’s a profit to be made. If this is just then why can’t the Mundella Act be suspended until a greater understanding of the claimed negative impact can be established?

Which is an appropriate time to mention Fred ‘they were old and going to die anyway’ Bonney. It appears I’ve ruffled his feathers. Indeed I quote:

“A certain blogger is getting boring now with his constant chunterings about the close season and otters etc etc, give it a rest Bob, the blog is reading just like the Daily Mail now, even with their touches of inaccurate reporting thrown in. It seems to me he’s pushing for a sure fire method to build his readers figures in this river Close Season.”

What’s the problem Fred? You can’t really be worried that someone might listen? I do apologise if it bores you but you do visit here of your own volition. There is no entry fee and you’re free to leave at any time.

The thing is, Fred – and anyone else for that matter, is free to visit this site and share in my views. Everyone (with only a couple of unreliable and untrustworthy exceptions!) is given an opportunity to leave comments and views beneath each article and I invariably respect those views, publish, and where appropriate, respond to them.

There’s no need to do it in obscure little corners – just do it here and have done with it. If that’s not good enough then my philosophy is simple. If you don’t like my blog you should go out and purchase a newspaper or magazine that reflects your views instead. If that paper doesn’t deliver what it promises then you have every right to complain because you’re a customer, you’ve made a financial investment. However, if you’re a freeloader who wants everything for nothing then I’m sorry, whilst I respect your opinion for what it is you have no real grounds to complain or dictate content, do you?

Commercial Plans

A friend owns a rather unusual commercial fishery. It contains pike. Hang on I’ll rephrase that. I have two friends with commercial fisheries that contain pike. The first only contains just one pike. It’s a proper old lump but let’s be honest – one fish in a lake rammed with roach, skimmers, orfe and carp is rather a tall order to catch. I think about having a go but it’s one of those opportunities I will probably ignore. Some tasks are just too difficult.

However, the other fishery is a different prospect. It has pike in two lakes. How they got in no-one knows and the owners are trying to remove them. After all, pike and commercials don’t exactly make good bedfellows, do they? Thing is, the pike are thriving and growing fast. One angler recently had two twenties in a day…!

Then I was shown a picture of a fish that looked every ounce of 25lb.

I’m wondering when I can fit in a session. Obviously! 

One For The Diary

For those who live within travelling distance of Reading there’s a cracking day lined up on Saturday 19th May at the Lands End Pub. John Wilson, will be joined by fellow authors Graham Marsden, Mark Wintle, Mark Everard, Graham Turner and Terry Theobald…

It’s the perfect opportunity to meet these gents in a leisurely atmosphere, share a pint and ask all the questions you like.

How come these days are always organised ‘darn sarth’ and never ‘oop north’? It’s not that grim you know. We actually have water up here as well, oh, and barbel too.

A Red Letter Day

With little time left I had some tough decisions to make. Where to fish and what for. Having caught pike, zander, grayling, dace and chub recently it was a case of finding a different species to target and what better than a very late season perch. I knew exactly where to go and what to do but I hadn’t banked on the swim I fancied being occupied by the only other angler on the bank. Oh well, can’t win ‘em all.

In the end it didn’t matter. A 2-pounder put in a welcome appearance on only my second cast. Then another. Only this time I was into a proper lump. The other angler kindly offered to weigh it for me and photograph it. Good job really as I wasn’t carrying scales. Try as hard as he could it wouldn’t quite make 3-12, so 3-11-8 it was. But what a fish. A big perch really is the biggest fish of all.

I had another, missed two bites and lost something that will prey on my mind for a long time. It was big. It fought like a perch and I’m pretty certain it was a perch. But you can never be completely sure, can you?

Boris Signs Off With A Cameo Appearance

I’ve not caught a barbel since last September. In fact I’ve not even tried to catch one. My tank was full. In fact it was so full it was leaking out of the filler cap, so I’d put old Boris on the back burner till next summer, or so I thought. I did contemplate catching one from a small local river earlier in the week and even got as far as turning up on the bank with my tackle. But in the end I never wet a line. Couldn’t raise sufficient enthusiasm. After all they’re only another species. They’re not the be-all and end-all some folk would have you think.

So there I was, in the most unlikely looking barbel swim on the river. 8 foot deep, crystal clear, almost stood still, and I’m laying on a worm on the off chance the swim might hold a perch or two. My tackle, a 17 foot match rod and 4lb line was geared towards perch. When the float dipped a couple of times I was convinced it was a small perch playing with the lobby. But I gave it a little slack and then tightened up.

This was no small perch, it was the mother of all perch. I was convinced that when this fish came to the surface I’d see a huge spiky dorsal fin and striped flanks. And then it started to sulk. My suspicion turned from perch to pike. When I saw the first swirl I was convinced it was a pike but a few minutes later I spotted a decidedly un-pike-like tail. Blow me it was a barbel.

And it was a proper lump of a barbel which appeared to grow a lot bigger in the net. What had first looked like an 8-pounder was clearly a double and a very good double at that, but what pleased me most was its condition. The fish was immaculate. A couple of quick snaps later she was back where she belonged, swimming free.

When Your Memory’s Gone, You’re F****d!

Oh well, the final day of the season rolled around and I was in a quandry as to where I fancied fishing. If truth be told I was a bit knckered after chasing all over the place in the preceding fortnight cramming in as much time on the bank as I could manage. There were many things I would like to have done, places I could go and various friends who I might spend that time with, but none seemed appropriate to mark a special day.

Perhaps that’s why it was lunchtime before I even set off. My destination was the Don, just a couple of miles from home. I’ve had my eye on a little stretch that never seems to get fished. Hmmm, now I know why!

So I cut my losses pretty quickly and moved on to a more reliable spot. Nothing doing there, either. Oh dear. One last gasp chance, back to the familiar. Dave Walker was already fishing close to where I was headed. He was absolutely bagging on hemp and tares when I got there, catching nice roach and getting a bite every cast. I dropped in 50 yards downstream and was soon catching dace. In 3 hours I must have had 150 of them, all caught shallow on the maggot.

With the sun dipping I popped up to Dave with my camera and grabbed a beautiful bag shot. Nets of roach like this from rivers are so rare these days. And that’s when the error message flashed up on the display screen – No CF Card…

I’d left the bl**dy memory card in my computer after dowloading the previous days images. What an idiot!

There’s A Ghost In The House

Afraid big Des took exception to my comments on his new Diary Of A Countryman column in the January blog. Indeed he seemed deeply hurt, which was never my intention, so let’s put my comments into perspective. I’ve known Des for knocking on 20 years and I can’t remember whether we first fished together on the Wye or the Severn it’s so long ago but let’s get something straight for starters, I have the utmost respect for him as a fellow angler and as a friend. Let me describe his angling prowess in his own words, it’s something he said to me many moons ago – ‘I’m not brilliant at anything, Bob, but I’m pretty good at everything!’

I’d tend to agree. And what I will say here and now is that Des is angling’s equivalent of a National Treasure. Big personality, big voice, loud, brash and not shy of speaking his mind no matter who it upsets. Of course no-one took him seriously with his outrageous politically incorrect rants. Des in character was simply angling’s ‘bloke on the number nine omnibus’. Maybe they should make him a Dame in next year’s New Years Honours list!

The thing is Des will be remembered for saying what a lot of folk were actually thinking without having the courage to actually verbalise it, but what he did best was fish. He fished everywhere for anything with fins. Sea, game and coarse fish alike. Worldwide. Des had the drive and image that made him an iconic figure. His battles with big fish inspired the post-Walker generation, me included. But somewhere along the way he seemed to lose that determination, the desire to catch everything. His column wasn’t the same. Some even suggested that it seemed to favour certain products rather than fishing.

We should also remember he brought  fun to the paper. Those of us who are old enough will surely never forget him having to eat his hat after competing in the Evesham Angling Festival…!

In recent times he’s left and come back. Then he left again. And now he’s back again.

We all get older and whether we care to admit it or not we change. I’m not the same man I was 20 years ago and it’s fair to say Des isn’t the drum beating, big drinking, loudmouth he was 20 years ago. Now Keith Arthur takes care of the political views in the paper. Martin Bowler is top dog in the specialist angler stakes. Which leaves Des needing a new peg to hang his hat on.

I’d hate to see the paper without him because he does have something very important to offer. He’s that rare beast, an angler with a personality, an enduring character. He’s also an angler the common man can relate to. Softcore rather than hardcore. Middle ground. Able to catch anything but unlikely to spend 3 months doing nothing else at the expense of a normal life.

Saying that, did you see that cracking 18lb 11oz zander he had off the Severn recently? That’s my Des! One of the ten biggest zander of all time. Get your trumpet out mate and blow it as loud as you like because that’s the stuff I want to read about in the paper, not jam making or biggest leek competitions.

Now he’s had a PB barbel. Great stuff. And if he was observing a woodcock or listening to a woodpecker when it hooked itself, then fine. I’ll buy that as part of the atmosphere surrounding the capture. But getting up at 7am to watch the Bewdley Hunt? Nah. I’m simply not buying that and let me explain why. I have to purchase Angling Times if I want to read it, even when I’m in it. I’m a consumer, just like you are, and if that doesn’t give me every right to comment on a change in direction or content then such arrogance will be its downfall. It’s a fundamental right of the customer to comment about the paper’s columnists, journalists and management and what’s more they should appreciate this. It’s called customer feedback.

It is often said that without loads of advertising and product placement the angling papers would not be viable but that’s only part of the picture. It’s you and I who make the Angling Times tick; the advertisers are only there because we are. And our financial input is important or otherwise it would be distributed for free through tackle shops and reach ten times more readers and make the advertisers even happier.

So lets get down to the nitty gritty. The Times doesn’t cost the earth to buy but if I’m not supposed to express my feelings about its content then put me down as an ex-reader, a former customer, like many thousands of others who’ve stopped buying it in recent times. Richard, Steve - are you listening? I know you read this blog. No say, no pay.

Not long ago I was asked (on my Facebook page) what my all-time favourite angling book was and it took me a while to put my finger on it. The book is A River For All Seasons by Tom Williams. It was simply a compilation of articles that made up the best series ever published in the Anglers Mail. It was about the life and times of a riverkeeper on the Hampshire Avon. Ironically I was told that Tom Williams didn’t actually write it and that it was ghost written by his wife but this was the archetypal ‘diary of a countryman’. A man who earned his living tending not just a river but possibly the finest river in the whole country at that time. It was authentic and genuine. Enthralling. He was completely involved, not just an observer.

So come on Des, I love you to bits and I know you have a great love of nature and the countryside, nor do I feel there’s anything wrong with including observations about country life in your Angling Times column, but first and foremost I want to read about where you’ve been fishing, who with and what you’ve caught. If I want to know how to knit a pair of wellingtons or read about the Bewdley Hunt I’ll buy a copy of Countryman magazine. Or Google it.

Des, please, it’s a simple request from a customer, not a personal attack on you, will you please write about your fishing escapades in Angling Times? I don’t particularly care whether you call it ‘Diary of a Countryman’ or ‘Mrs Taylors Diary’ or ‘The Kid From The Black Country Council Estate’. If nothing else there’s a clue in the title of the paper in case anyone’s forgotten. It’s called ANGLING Times. Now if I’ve offended you again then sorry mate. That’s not my intention, nor would I wish to. Perhaps you might stop and think a moment. Instead of getting upset you should be flattered that folk like me still want to read about what you catch after 20 years.

Welcome back to the paper big man.

Lucky Escape

I’ll close by sharing a little drama I witnessed yesterday. Possibly the most remarkable thing I’ve seen in a lifetime by the waterside. I was fishing for pike, make that catching pike – they were really having it – when I heard a kingfisher. I’m sure you’re familiar with the staccato peep they make when they flit by you but this one was peeping constantly in a distressed manner.

Looking up I could barely believe what was happening. A sparrow hawk was trying to catch a kingfisher in mid-air over the water, swooping round and containing it in a very tight space as the kingfisher tried vainly to escape. The hawk was clearly the master of agility but a kingfisher can hover and dart. They’re lightning fast over short distances.

Even so I feared the outcome was inevitable until a large black crow, presumably attracted by the commotion, flapped into the battleground. This threw the hawk and the kingfisher made its escape but it had a very narrow squeak, I can tell you.

Fisky Zeds

Had a nice message from Nick Marlow showing he’s been catching a few nice zander from the Trent on soft rubber lures. He offered to send me some but how cruel is that? I’ll have a bunch of brilliant lures but no opportunity to use them for the next 3 months. That’s mean Nick! But come the summer I’ll have lots of opportunities to put them through their paces. And maybe I might do some damage with the local canal perch.

You know, I’m starting to warm to the idea of a bit of lure fishing.

Valentine’s Massacre

I mentioned in the last blog that Ian Fowler had been bashing out a few carp during his trip to Anglers Paradise around Valentine’s Day. He was there for his wife’s 50th birthday and did rather well as these images of three twenties in one day suggest…

For The Sake Of 20 Seconds…

I’m sure folk have no idea what making a DVD involves. Yes, some companies shoot a whole film in a day but that’s not our style. Certainly not during our Caught In The Act project. So there we were, up before the larks, driving over the Pennines yet again hoping to snatch just 20 seconds of footage. Well, 20 seconds on screen but knowing full well those 20 seconds would take all day to capture, if we were lucky that is.

The Eden is a big, fast river and we were hoping to shoot grayling in their natural environment. First off we headed for what’s regarded as a really prolific swim. Hmmm… Two weeks ago it was solid with fish. But not today. The grayling had vanished. Presumably they had moved on to wherever they’d congregate for spawning. I tried several swims and bites were distinctly at a premium and I caught several wild brown trout without touching a grayling.

So we reverted to plan B which involved a far tougher stretch. Low density but where the grayling run bigger. I’m not going to say it was a roaring success but we got what we needed – eventually.

Falling In Again (2)

Have you ever fallen in while fishing? I think most of us have at some time or other. I certainly have but speaking from experience, let me give you a tip. Try and do it in summer, not winter. And in ponds preferably, rather than somewhere like the River Swale when you’re 80 miles from home. It was a risk I just had to take. Stu was playing a pike, I was trying to get a good angle with the camera and that involved jumping onto a small, greasy outcrop. The outcome, as you have gathered, was so predictable.

There’s something rather professional, don’t you think, about a cameraman who, while sliding into a dangerous river holds the camera high above his head shouting, ‘Stu, grab the camera!’

Not, ‘Help!’ or, ‘Stu, grab me arm!’ Of course not. My concern was for the camera rather than my own safety. A bit mad when you think about it. But we’d got all the footage we were going to get that day anyway so it was home for a bath time.

Facebook Fun

I’ve slowly warmed to Facebook since Steve Pope encouraged me to embrace it and I do try and keep my page updated with a few snippets here and there, especially if I’m pressed for time to write a proper blog or article for here, but every now and then you do come across the odd numpty. The kind of sad individual who re-inforces Jeremy Kyle’s views about social media in general. Mind you, old Jerry has made a tidy fortune out of these sad individuals so he’s not in any real position to complain too loudly.

Recently I spotted a post hosted on Des Taylor’s wall by someone called Daniel Paul Brambley. I’m not aware that I’ve ever met the guy but he clearly taxed his own intelligence by writing: ‘If you take the letters in Bob Roberts, take some out, add a few more, and re arrange them, you get ‘TWAT.’

Nice, eh? Seems the guy has a bit of a chip on his shoulder where I’m concerned as this is not his only insult aimed in my direction, but hey ho, I’m flattered that he cares so much.

What I will say though, is that if someone posted comments like that on my wall about Des (or anyone else) I’d see it as only common decency to delete them. Oh, and by the way Danny boy, that picture of your ‘friend’ Steve Pope was taken by me…! Clearly happy to use me as well as abuse me.

Harry’s A Star

Dave Harrell contacted me the other day and kindly asked whether I’d like to try some of his new floats. He must be psychic. My stock of sticks is dwindling rapidly and the concept of the largest tackle shop in the area no longer carrying a single stick float is depressing. How times have changed. Every tackle shop I knew used to have hundreds lined up in glass fronted cabinets – Pete Warren, John Allerton, Tommy Pickering, Dave Thomas, Britannia, Middy, Drennan – the choice was legion.

Something someone once said has always stuck, ‘They aren’t just floats, they are winners and losers…’

And it’s so true. You needed to make the right choice of float, the right choice of shotting pattern, get the feeding right, the presentation, the timing, everything. But it all boiled down to the right float nine times out of 10. The float dictated how you fished.

And this demise, more than any other, suggests to me that the current closed season is hopelessly outdated. Hardly anyone is fishing the rivers any more unless they are after barbel – and they only seem to know one method – bolt rigged pellets! Talk about dumbed down fishing for a dumbed down fish by dumbed down anglers!!!

Anglers like Dave Harrell were (and still are) artists. Any fish caught on a float is worth ten on a bolt rig. Size only matters if you are obsessed with numbers, bragging and your own shallow ego. Size defeats the joy of actually fishing.

My floats duly arrived and I was gagging to get out there and have a go. I still had some old maggots left over in the bait fridge but didn’t fancy the Earth Centre so headed downstream onto the Doncaster and District water near Sprotborough. It’s amazing how much river you get to yourself if you can walk 800 yards. Other than dog walkers, two rowers in a scull, and a lone jogger I never saw another soul. Bliss.

Choosing an 8No4 shouldered wire stem job I tackled the 12 foot deep swim with my Spectrum 17/20 rod and a finger dab 1657DM reel. It was glorious. Although cold it was bright and sunny. The river was carrying a few inches and slightly coloured. My target – bream. Single maggot on a size 20 GP105 Gamma Black hook was the bait.

I expected instant action but it didn’t come. It took over an hour before I was getting bites with any regularity – mostly from dace and gudgeon. Things picked up as the afternoon wore on and I ended up getting a bite on most runs through depite an increasingly tricky wind (I was fishing at about 5 rod lengths out). Yes I had a couple of bream to 2lb but couldn’t get them to settle. I also had some cracking roach, one perch and around a dozen chub to half a pound. Not spectacular fishing but thoroughly enjoyable.

Best of all it took me less time to drive home than to walk back to the van.

Sadly I might not get another chance to do this again for the next 3 months. Every one of those fish and no doubt hundreds of others had a meal on me. Every single one was lip hooked. They were out of the water for perhaps ten seconds and returned straight back to the river (no keepnet). Can someone tell me where the harm is in that? I sat on a mown bank and can’t see how the vegetation was damaged in any way. I left no litter, had a swan for company all afternoon and disturbed nothing.

For the life of me I cannot understand how this terrible act does no harm whatsoever today but will cause great harm to angling in the eyes of the general public in ten days time?

Where Is Everyone?

With fresh baits at the ready I headed down to the Trent for a quick zander session. Okay, fishing from 1pm to 5pm on a cloudless, sunny day and a full moon visible in daylight is hardly what you’d choose when targeting zander but my biggest fear on the drive down there was how busy would the river be. When I first fished this stretch it was rare to see another angler. Now it’s bivvy city in summer. What a pleasant surprise them, to not only discover the swim I really fancied was vacant but there wasn’t another angler in sight on either bank as far as the eye could see in both directions.

It kind of makes a mockery of those who say the rivers need a rest, especially when experience tells us that the last week of the season is when rivers tend to be busier than they’ve been in the past four or 5 months. The idea that my presence on the bank today would affect nesting birds and spawning fish is about a preposterous notion as any I could imagine.

Can someone explain this to me, too. The presence of anglers on the bank in springtime will disturb birds – right? So how come, when I had a conifer hedge in my back garden, birds would nest in it right next to my garden path? If I dig the garden birds like robins and thrushes will come and scavenge within feet of me. The other week at Anglers Paradise I had chaffinches, robins, blackbirds and a pied wagtail sneaking right up to my feet to feed on any maggots I spilled. A swan kept returning to me on the Don. Mallards dive bombed my loose feed on the Lea a couple of weeks back. I’ve had kingfishers sit on my rods, and warblers. Only cormorants and goosanders appear to flee at the sight of me.

It’s time these ‘anglers’ got out from behind their keyboards more often and learned there’s a real world out there and that man and wildlife can and do live in harmony, sharing the same bits of countryside. When interaction is regular it isn’t a problem. When anglers desert the riverbanks for 3 months (nearer 8 if we’re being honest) then turning up en-masse and indescriminately start bashing down vegetation it is.

And on that subject, who does more damage, the unobtrusive angler or the work party? What part of swim clearance, swim making, tree pruning and platform construction do you consider acceptable with regard to disturbing wildlife in general and nesting birds in particular during springtime? Which uses chain saws, scythes, rakes, picks and shovels?

You see, this claim that we’ll be ostracised by a caring community is utter baloney when that same group invariably turns a blind eye to 4×4 off-roaders, scrambling motorcycles, canoeists, jet skiers, drug users, vandals and thieves.

But back to the fishing. My joy turned quickly to despair when I discovered my favourite, banker zed swim had been destroyed. A Fallen tree used to divert the current and create an eddy that has produced lots of pike and zander. On one memorable afternoon I had five carp feeding in barely a foot of water within a yard of the bank. We caught one of them, a 17lb common, and I’m sure it would have produced many more in the coming season. Unfortunately it’s been dragged out and sawn up. Aaaghhh! And horror of all horrors, a bivvy platform has been created.

As pegs go you have to say it’s a marvel of design and construction – perfectly level, top soil raked and new grass seed sown. Steps lead down to the river’s edge. Just a shame it’s such a crap barbel swim but I guess the comfortable nature and close proximity to the car park means it’ll be very popular and take a bit of pressure off the better swims. Sadly it’s at the expense of my bolt hole.

Still, it forced me to explore other swims and the first quickly produced a small pike that actually thought it was a lot bigger. Interestingly it had a number of leeches on its pectoral fin. I’ve noticed that a lot of the pike I’ve had this winter have been carrying leeches. Or am I just taking more notice?

A move to another swim delivered what I was hoping for – a nice chunky zed. I still have mixed emotions about the spread of zander through the Trent system but like it or not they’re here to stay and only a fool would ignore the opportunities they present the angler when other species are in decline.

What A Chub!

Did you see that amazing chub caught by Neill Stephen from the River Lea? Most would have been knocked out to land the 7-2 he had in the same session but to then catch one weighing 9lb 5oz just puts it into the stratosphere. The full story can be found on the Total Coarse Fishing magazine web site.

If ratified it equals the current British Rod Caught Record. Well done that man. Top angling.

Try And Read This Book

I’ve been so busy fishing this past few weeks that I’ve struggled to find time to finish off the Perchfisher’s new book, The Biggest Fish Of All. Best I can manage most nightsis to read a few pages before I switch off the light at night but I do have to say it’s a fantastic, inspirational read. Possibly the best angling book I’ve read in ages. When I’ve finished it I’ll do a proper review but in the mean time you can read a sample chapter in the books section of this site, however, trust me. Get onto the Harper web site and buy a copy. You won’t regret it.

James At The Double

My old mate James Gould returned a favour to a guy who had put him on some top tench fishing, Paul Briddon. I’ll take you perch fishing, he said. Like good friends do he put him in the best possible swim and the result was this cracking stripey weighing 4lb 5oz.

Now most folk would be happy enough with that but James only went and pulled another rabbit out of the hat, in this case a rather unexpected one in the shape of a 6lb 11oz chub!

That’s some brace, eh? One chub, one perch, 11lb 1oz, in the space of a morning on a guest ticket.

Some Days I Can’t Be Bothered

Today I ventured down to a tiny river that I have a great affection for. I didn’t get there until well after lunch but I wasn’t there to target anything special. It was just a case of turning up to say goodbye for a while. Dear oh dear, I’ve never seen it so low at this time of year. And crystal clear. Heaven knows what it’s like down south where no less than 7 hosepipe bans were announced on the news this morning.

It had been my intention to feed a few pellets here and there and maybe take one last barbel (or three). Blow me if there wasn’t an angler in my banker swim. The only one on the bank. I stayed and chatted with him for the best part of an hour. Seems we once fished the same syndicate lake but my memory being what it is I couldn’t place him. Still we were able to swap a few tales about the various venues we both appeared to know quite well. When he mentioned he’d baited a few swims upstream I guess my mind was made up. It would be rude of me to fish any of them and looking at the level and clarity it was pretty obvious which ones he would have fed.

I had a look downstream but swims that once had overhanging bushes now had bushes overhanging bare gravel. I found a few fish including a nice pike and two cracking bream but in the end I simply couldn’t be bothered to fish, so I drove home. Odd that, isn’t it? My heart said I simply had to be on the bank because time was running out fast. My head said why bother? For once the head ruled.

150,000 And Counting…

It was great to see the visitor counter for this site click past 150,000 the other day. That’s not page hits by the way – that’s unique visitors (since July 2010). Had we not lost all the previous data then the total visitors since launch would actually be nearer a quarter of a million. No wonder the printed media is having sleepless nights. Trouble is, no-one gets paid and that’s a real concern. Without profits no business is sustainable (unless it’s football, of course).

The internet is purely vanity publishing if we’re being honest. Lot’s of content but quality writing is remarkably thin on the ground. There are one or two good wordsmiths providing free material but where’s the motivation to do that? Does anyone fancy decorating my house for free while I create my next blog? And would someone do my garden? Perhaps a garage will provide me with free diesel?

It’s not going to happen, is it? And that’s the Achilles heel of the internet.

Shame really. I’ve contemplated accepting adverts but there’s only so much to go round in that pot.

Oh, and just as a last word, would you believe that some bloke just contacted Stuart through his Youtube channel, you know the one that hosts those videos you can watch in the right hand sidebar of this web site. Wanted to know where he might find a torrent so he could download a pirate copy of our Barbel Days And Ways DVDs! The nerve of some folk is astonishing, don’t you think?

Anyway, enough of this boasting, Part Three is all but finished. Just needs a little polish. Hopefully that will be published in the next couple of days. Bet you can’t wait! Not…

‘The sun is shining, the birds are singing, trees are sprouting buds and leaves, daffodils have burst forth and the fat lady is clearing her throat with a degree of enthusiasm that only comes when she’s about to bellow out a rousing refrain of Auld Lang Syne. Yes folks, another river season is about to end and hundreds of folk who haven’t been fishing since last autumn will be rejoicing because they now have another 3 months of inactivity to look forward to, no doubt saving them from the nagging embarassment of never actually catching owt.

With no excuses required for not going fishing they’ll turn their attentions to internet forums with renewed vigour and drone on endlessly about how it’s such a good thing to take an enforced break, a chance to recharge their batteries(!) and feel secure in the knowledge that the public at large will respect us for our ecologically sound stance.

Of course that’s utter bull***t because the public at large couldn’t give a flying fig about angling. They’ll continue to paddle their canoes through spawning grounds, allow their children to pick wild flowers, their dogs to chase nesting birds off their eggs, harry sheep and cattle and generally trample through SSSI sites with indifference. Wake up folks, Mr Townie doesn’t care about us. You credit him with great intelligence and a caring nature when deep down inside he’s as stupid as you are!

And yes, you’ve won. You’re stopping the really keen anglers from fishing. Well done! Only fishing won’t stop on the rivers, will it? Those who fish for the pot won’t stop. Cormorants won’t stop, nor otters. Clubs will have no income, more folk will migrate to the commercials and fish stocks will continue to decline. Bet you feel pretty smug all the same.’

Nothing’s changed there then!

Honestly, does the average member of the public actually care that this 37lb carp was slaughtered by an otter last week…

Or that more will die unless someone steps in and takes the necessary illegal action to prevent it happening? What bothers me is that a number of vociferous pro-closed season ‘anglers’ will say this fish deserved to die. Doesn’t belong here, it was old, it would have died eventually anyway, so get over it. Yet these same hypocrites will support and even fund the stocking of barbel into rivers where they are non-indigenous. Doesn’t make sense, does it?

Of course, come mid-June it’ll be those who purport to be so caring who will target barbel and chub on the spawning grounds. They’ll even boast of how glorious their actions are – the glorious 16th and all that goes with it. They’ll insist everyone adopts their welfare policies for the protection of fish, while in reality they’ll frig about endlessly with the rare fish they do catch, keeping them out of the water far too long for weighing and photographs before spending half an hour trying to get them to recover enough to swim away…

But it’s okay if you use a mat.

Fortunately it’s such an infrequently occurence as to be inconsequential in the bigger picture.

Listen guys, these fish aren’t precious objects, they’re free range otter meat, that’s all.

Last week I heard talk of the local RSPB getting ‘twitchy’ over the lack of grebes and herons on their nature reserve. One day they’ll work out that these native inland birds require fish as a pre-requisite of their survival and those alien invaders they steadfastly protect are the cause of this demise. Anglers will never succeeed in getting the protection provided to cormorants lifted, ultimately the RSPB will. But unfortunately by the time they wake up and do something it will be too late.

Wouldn’t be surprised if the folk who currently support the closed season actually object to this and demand protection for cormorants and otters. That may sound stupid to you and me but just read their comments on forums of late. It’s not as ridiculous or as far fetched as you might think. Only recently one prominent barbel statesman stated the Ouse barbel were old, so it didn’t matter that otters killed them… Another told me that the fish are dead, so get over it!

Personally, I think the closed season should be a matter for each individual’s conscience. If you want to observe it then by all means feel free to do so with my blessing. But why should you impose your views on everyone else? What about individual choice? Let’s have a one-day mandatory break by all means, shall we make this on April 1st. - April Fools Day? Outside of that we should let each individual club decide when and whether it closes all or parts of its water for prescribed periods, determined by prevailing weather conditions.

By all means protect the areas where fish spawn (when they are spawning) rather than the entire country for an arbitrary 93 days which, lest we forget, was imposed upon us thanks to the actions of a non-fishing MP more than a hundred years ago and was never meant to protect coarse fish in the first place.

The Mundella Act has been hijacked to serve the purposes of those with a highly questionable and dubious agenda. Not politicians, not nature lovers, not the RSPB but by anglers.

Falling In Again (1)

Oh well, let’s move on to less serious matters – like fishing. I had a tip off about a mate of mine this week. I knew he’d gone ‘swimming’ a few weeks ago but what I didn’t realise is that he’s only done it again. Seriously he’s only fished Pine Lake Fisheries three times and he’s fallen in twice! Why would anyone want to do that, eh?

Bet he thought he’d got away with the second dip. Sorry Trev, my spies are everywhere! Sadly there are no photos.

Unless someone out there knows differently… Please contact me if you have one.

Another Box Ticked

With winter seemingly over and the end of season looming Stu and I have been going over our filming spreadsheet with a fine toothcomb. There were still a few boxes to tick, one being a simple intro and piece to camera with a few technical details. I knew just the place. Scenic and rarely fished. What’s more it had never let me down, producing much bigger than average sized chub for the river so we gained permission and nipped down there full of confidence.

I caught one measly chub. A smallish one. In fact the smallest one I’ve ever caught there. Bloody typical, eh? We moved to another stretch, well, three more stretches actually and had just one more fish of roughly the same size. Then Stu had a mishap with the camera that smashed the bluetooth receiver, but at least the camera was okay. Some days you just know it isn’t meant to be.

But the footage we did shoot looks fabulous. Perhaps sometimes we set unrealistic expectations and forget that it’s the surroundings that matter more than what we catch.

Bread Head Failure

Stu rang to say he’d got a little job on in Derbyshire that wouldn’t take him long to wrap up. Did I fancy tagging along and we could nip over to the Dove when he finished? ‘Let’s leave the cameras at home and just go for a bit of pleasure.’ He suggested. Sounded tempting and it would make a real change from the pressures of filming and I wasn’t planning on much else that day anyway.

I hung around for an hour while he did his work stuff and we were still on the banks before the Derby rush hour cleared. Alas the Dove had risen 9 inches for some inexplicable reason and my plans to fish with bread for chub were in tatters. It really can be as contrary as that. I never had a single pull on the bread. My change bait was maggot and they were instantly mullered by minnows so my day was a failure but Stu did manage to nick a barbel on pellets. At least it didn’t rain.

Comfortably Numb

Had an email this week from a very good angler. He wrote: ‘Hope you are okay and catching a few. I was on the river the other day pushing a float through - you dont half get some funny looks - when a narrow boat came upriver. I thought of you straight away as it was your favourite, yes, it was ‘Comfortably Numb’, the one you had problems with on your DVD and the guy is still not sure what a straight line is…

I wonder how many carefully laid barbel traps that particular boat has taken out in the past season or two? In fact I’ll gamble he has a right old birds nest of lines wrapped around his propellor even as we speak.

Idle Curiosity 

Three years ago I shot a feature for Improve Your Coarse Fishing magazine on the lower River Idle. It was one of those dream days. By 10.30am I’d caught 25lb of pristine roach. With no further pressure to catch roach I chucked out a pike bait and had 3 up to doubles. You pray for days like that but I never seemed to find enough time to go back and have another crack. Since then I’ve been too busy on other projects but a little window arose this week and I nipped down to see how it was fishing.

I arrived early and secured the same swim. Only this time I blanked. I couldn’t raise a single bite. There were three other anglers on the stretch so I walked along to see how they were doing. Only one had caught and it was so small he ‘thought’ it was a dace. One cannot help but wonder where those fish have gone, eh?

Undaunted I threw my gear back in the van and headed for a special little swim that I haven’t fished for at least a decade. It was one of my secret places stretching back to those heady days in the 1970′s when it was common to catch roach going well over a pound. The river looked just how it used to except there were no fish topping. It looked completely dead.

Much to my surprise the float dipped after about 15 minutes and I caught a nice roach of perhaps 3oz. Was this the start of a good session? Alas not. I didn’t get another, nor did I get so much as a nipped maggot. My only other bite came from a bream. Idle bream normally fight like tigers as they’re usually a good stamp, often running four or 5lb appiece. This one limped in and it looked a sorry sight. Something, and I’m guessing a cormorant, had attacked it. There was a gaping wound on its flank and red weals where it had been grabbed on the wrist of its tail.

But at least it was soldiering on and who knows it may recover. I doubt the thing would have been attacked had there been a healthy head of silver fish but if the black plague is targeting 4lb bream I fear there’s no hope for pound roach…

Say Goodbye To Our Birdlife

And while we are on the subject of predation it’s not just fish that otters kill. Perhaps those who stupidly believe otters to be cute and cuddly creatures might care to reconsider after watching this encounter with a heron…

Oh, and you can ignore the lamentable excuse laden text that the person who filmed it has added. This otter was defending nothing. The heron posed no threat. This was a well fed otter showing what otters are - vicious killers.

Down The Don

One river that defies national trends is the River Don. I can catch silver fish here all day long but that might be down to the effective cormorant management that has been carried out by a number of individuals who actually care for English nature. They’re fully paid up members of the Billy Makin school of thought when it comes to protecting the environment.

A trip with no other motive than to use up some old maggots provided me with a cracking days sport that would still have been a good catch 40 years ago, in fact your average match angler back then would have snatched your arm off for such a day.

It began with me running an 8 No4 stick through in 12 feet of water. A few small roch and dace showed immediate interest and then I had a few better fish. In between times I had 5 good skimmers, just on the turning brown stage, but I just felt something wasn’t quite right. The skimmers disappeared which can mean they’ve backed off or the loose feed isn’t getting to them. It was the latter.

Shallowing up I began to catch some nice dace, ending up fishing 3 feet deep with a 2 No4 stick float and getting a bite a chuck. Unfortunately I ran out of bait while they were still having it.

Returning 5 days later I opted for a different swim 200 yards upstream. This time I was itching to go shallow and within the hour I was catching at half depth. A switch to a slim 3 No6 Benny Ashurst stick float had fish crawling up the rod. By striking gently I could get two or even three bites each trot down. If the float travelled more than a yard without going under it meant something had nicked the maggot.

Boy did I enjoy myself. I guess I caught over 200 fish, mostly dace between an ounce and 5 ounces. Three distinct year classes and plenty of each. And by scaling off on Google Earth I can tell that I was just 2.23 miles from my front door. Yet I spend hours driving all over the country to fish other rivers. Hardly makes sense, does it?

Wizards Of Oz

On the subject of fishing on the doorstep I had an interesting email from Tony Howard this week. Tony used to fish in the same village working mens club as me about 30 years ago. Like his old man Johnny, who won a Trent Nationonal, Tony was a class act. Later on we fished in the same team at Goldthorpe but after I gave up match fish fishing we drifted apart and lost touch.

Next thing I heard he’d emigrated to Australia but he tracked me down through this web site. Indeed the site has rekindled lots of lost friendships but none quite so distant as this one. Guess the world really is shrinking. Anyway his latest email intrigued me because Tony was just setting out to fish a 3-day competition on the Murray River which is about 5 hours away from where he now resides in Melbourne. He reckons it’s absolutely solid with carp and he’ll send me some pictures when he gets back. That’ll be interesting.

Typical isn’t it. Me old mate Popey’s half way through a 3 month spell in Oz and all he writes about in his blog is picnics, going to the zoo and babysitting while I stay home and write about the fishing over there. Come on Steve, get your finger out! You’re in a unique position to tell us all about the Aussie fishing scene, the tackle shops, venues, species, magazines, TV shows, top baits, tactics and so much more. Don’t waste this fantastic opportunity.

Alarm Call

With tench and bream fishing high on my list of targets this spring and summer I was chuffed to take delivery of a new set of Delkim bite alarms. I’ve used Delkims exclusively for at least 15 years and the ones I’ve used are still in perfect working order, but I really am a bit of a tackle tart at heart and I fancied using the new light-up bobbins and twin LEDs. So I’ve upgraded.

Can’t wait to get out and use them now!

Right. Newspaper column to write and if things go well maybe I’ll find time to publish Part Two tomorrow, or at a push, Saturday. Feel free to join me…