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Showing posts with label Fishing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fishing. Show all posts
Friday, 15 May 2009
How To Fish by Chris Yates
Published by Penguin, in May 2007.
Paperback: 256 pages.
Amazon link
I can't help but think that a lot of time was spent in agreeing the title for this work. The reader should know that it is most certainly not a standard “How to” book. Mr Yates hardly discusses tackle or technique at all. Rather, he extends his own angling philosophy and describes his experiences with, and relation to Mother Nature.
Perhaps a better title might have been “How to Enjoy Fishing”?
Chris Yates doesn't so much go fishing as hold a communion with Nature. His manner of angling is one of forgotten time, childhood memories, a complete submersion into his environment, and, occasionally, a fish. That he is probably the finest angler writing today helps enormously.
The simple premise behind this work is a day or two spent with Chris on a river looking for Perch. But the work is swollen into a beautiful commentary on how he stands relative to his surroundings, how he sees angling as a balm that soothes and enriches the spirit, and how the old cliché of just “being there” is as true today as ever it was.
Put simply – it is a beautifully written exploration of a beautiful attitude to life, crafted within the crucible of the beautiful past time that is angling.
All I can say is that if you fish by numbers, you will probably not enjoy this book. If, however, you are sensitive to the wonderful rivers and lakes that abound in our land, and if you understand that you are part of this landscape rather than master of it – you may find yourself unable to put the book down..
No more words from me. Buy the book; read the book; enjoy the book, and be gently reminded of why we go fishing.
HOME PAGE
Paperback: 256 pages.
Amazon link
I can't help but think that a lot of time was spent in agreeing the title for this work. The reader should know that it is most certainly not a standard “How to” book. Mr Yates hardly discusses tackle or technique at all. Rather, he extends his own angling philosophy and describes his experiences with, and relation to Mother Nature.
Perhaps a better title might have been “How to Enjoy Fishing”?
Chris Yates doesn't so much go fishing as hold a communion with Nature. His manner of angling is one of forgotten time, childhood memories, a complete submersion into his environment, and, occasionally, a fish. That he is probably the finest angler writing today helps enormously.
The simple premise behind this work is a day or two spent with Chris on a river looking for Perch. But the work is swollen into a beautiful commentary on how he stands relative to his surroundings, how he sees angling as a balm that soothes and enriches the spirit, and how the old cliché of just “being there” is as true today as ever it was.
Put simply – it is a beautifully written exploration of a beautiful attitude to life, crafted within the crucible of the beautiful past time that is angling.
All I can say is that if you fish by numbers, you will probably not enjoy this book. If, however, you are sensitive to the wonderful rivers and lakes that abound in our land, and if you understand that you are part of this landscape rather than master of it – you may find yourself unable to put the book down..
No more words from me. Buy the book; read the book; enjoy the book, and be gently reminded of why we go fishing.
HOME PAGE
Suggestions for the Sensitive and Cultured Angler
This list contains items from history, Walker's masterpiece, and works that require the reader to have an appreciation of Nature, and not just the weighing scales.
The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton
The first, and possibly most famous angling book of all. Essential reading.
Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing by Bernard Venables
A book for the younger angler in many ways. But it can still be enjoyed by the more seasoned amongst us. I would say this is optional reading.
Confessions of a Carp Fisher by B B
Published initially in 1950, this wonderfully written book gives us an insight into carp angling over half a century ago. It is a delightful series of stories, places, memories and advice. Essential for the historian, optional for others.
Still-Water Angling by Richard Walker
Possibly the second most angling book ever written. It showed anglers that it is possible to target large fish. Essential reading.
The Secret Carp by Chris Yates
Chris Yates has a place amongst the angling greats, and this work allows us to see inside the angling philosophy he has developed over time.
How To Fish by Chris Yates
Mr Yates develops and explains his life and angling philosophies whilst we spend some time on the river looking for Perch.
More to follow ...
HOME PAGE
The Compleat Angler by Izaak Walton
The first, and possibly most famous angling book of all. Essential reading.
Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing by Bernard Venables
A book for the younger angler in many ways. But it can still be enjoyed by the more seasoned amongst us. I would say this is optional reading.
Confessions of a Carp Fisher by B B
Published initially in 1950, this wonderfully written book gives us an insight into carp angling over half a century ago. It is a delightful series of stories, places, memories and advice. Essential for the historian, optional for others.
Still-Water Angling by Richard Walker
Possibly the second most angling book ever written. It showed anglers that it is possible to target large fish. Essential reading.
The Secret Carp by Chris Yates
Chris Yates has a place amongst the angling greats, and this work allows us to see inside the angling philosophy he has developed over time.
How To Fish by Chris Yates
Mr Yates develops and explains his life and angling philosophies whilst we spend some time on the river looking for Perch.
More to follow ...
HOME PAGE
Suggestions for the Keen Angler
This list contains practical volumes that will enable the angler to improve the technique and range of knowledge.
Practical Carp Fishing by Julian Cundiff
HOME PAGE
Practical Carp Fishing by Julian Cundiff
HOME PAGE
Suggestions for the Perfect Brute
This list is for those who have no beauty in their soul and often miss the point of angling entire.
In Pursuit of the Largest by Terry Hearn
HOME PAGE
In Pursuit of the Largest by Terry Hearn
HOME PAGE
Tuesday, 5 May 2009
A Dream Exceeded
It took me thirty years, but it was worth it in the end.
I don't know what inspired them, as my parents had shown not the slightest interest in fish or fishing all their days. To this very moment I wonder at it; but forever have I thanked them for the book they gave me on Christmas Day, 1976. I was twelve years of age.
Almost as soon as I picked it up, “Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing” held me firmly in its grip; a grip it has retained all my life. To my young and urban mind the description of the seasons, the fish, the methods by which they may be caught, and the wonderful comic strips of Mr Crabtree and Peter, were transportations into a fascinating world of which I knew nothing.
I finished it within a week, and was soon badgering my parents for a fishing starter kit. As time passed, a familiar story unfolded: the hoarding of pocket money for bait and more tackle, many a day out devoid of even a silver fish, several bird's nests to undo or, more usually, to cut, and the obligatory, but no less “splendid Perch” as my first prize. I had not come very far, but I had at least taken a few steps on the angling road that, mercifully, seems not to have and end.
As boyhood turned to adolescence I added to my tackle and improved my technique; and I also paid several visits to the library where, instead of revising for my school exams, I headed straight for the fishing section. I read everything I could find, and it was here that I first came across a fish called Clarissa, a man called Walker, and a pool called Redmire. I didn't realise it at the time, but an immutable and eternal seed had been sown in my young mind.
As adolescence in its own turn became Manhood, and as my mind veered towards issues of career, my fishing time diminished and then slowly disappeared, as did my piscatorial studies. Finally, the transition was completed and I became a slave, bent to the wheel of commerce, a worshipper at the altar of Mammon, and a man most firmly under authority. The items that populated my life began to change. Gone were the lilly pads, mighty oak trees, and shining waters; to be replaced by artwork, sculpture, and business class travel. I measured the content of my character by the size of my house, and I told myself I was successful. I had arrived at a place that most would call fortunate, some would obtain, many misunderstand, but from which only a very few can ever hope to move on to a higher and better mode of existence. But, even as it was sleeping, the Redmire seed was still there, kept in a secret chamber of my mind; a chamber of which I knew little, or perhaps even nothing.
After many years, and a career almost ruinous to my health, I decided, upon my fortieth birthday, to re-join my fellow anglers on the lake side and to introduce some much needed peace and calm into my life once more. I became a carp angler. With time, I like to think I became a reasonable carp angler; and now the Redmire seed had awoken and was starting to grow. Moreover, the passage of time allowed me to lay aside the old books and explore the new medium of the internet. And it was in this way that I rediscovered the one true Mecca of Carp angling. But not only that, I found Redmire had its own website, a forum, and, glory be, it was open to the public via a booking system. It took me four years of trying, but eventually I succeeded in securing a booking slot. The seed had grown good and strong now and had almost come to full bloom. I was going fishing at Redmire Pool come the next July.
As I arrived at the estate, I felt almost childlike again and, after I turned into the approach lane, my excitement knew few bounds. I was greeted by the bailiff who directed me through the gate and, after a few yards, I saw it. It was only a glimpse, but I actually saw Redmire Pool with my own eyes. Forgotten were the pictures in the books and on the internet, this was the real thing. But the glimpse I was afforded was merely a tantalizing canapé – a taster to ready me for the feast yet to come.
Of course I stood at the dam end and, like every other Redmire angler before me, admired the view. I had waited thirty years to take in this vision, and every sense was put on high alert to drink in its maximum fill.
The gentle breeze came across me from the East, freshening my face, and casting ripples around and between the weed as it went. There was an aroma of recently cut grass, some sapling trees I could not place, the heavy scent of silt, the slightly sour odour of long soaked weed, and a suggestion of mint. I gazed along the Eastern bank down to the South, and back along the Western side. I was looking for the legendary pitches of which I had heard so much - Inghams, The 35 pitch, Pitchfords, and, of course, The Willow Pitch. What came to my eyes was a master-work of Mother Nature, a crucible of natural glory, and, as I stood, the sun cast a dappling light upon the water, the breeze made a rustling in the myriad leaves, and the songbirds could be heard singing, as if to bid me welcome. I was transfixed by this Aphrodite of natural perfection.
I had known this pool all my life, better than any other, and now it was made real for me. Here it was, right before me, a glorious coronal of history, of nature, and of legend. Only later did I know the true meaning of Wordsworth's words:
“I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:”
I felt ashamed as I moved my equipment into the ancient Willow Pitch. It didn't seem right to bring such modernity to the very place where Mr Richards caught his 31lb fish on honey paste and Roach tackle, and also where Mr Walker landed Clarissa on crusted bread and a home-made rod, and in so doing changed carp fishing forever.
In deference to these past greats, I built a free-lined set-up, put two dog biscuits straight onto the hook, snubbing the modern hair, paused for a moment as if in silent prayer, and then cast my line onto the timeless water. At long, long last – I was fishing Redmire Pool.
Anyone watching my silent figure sitting quietly beside the lake and fishing, would have little or no reason to look again at so unremarkable a thing. But for me, the time, the air, the colours, light and shade, the very shape of things, stirred within me a profound change. Out of my spirit came a new and exciting freshness; an abandonment to Nature that was thrilling to feel, quiet and peace, calm and contentment, happiness that laughed silently, wonder that could find no voice, jubilation that was struck dumb.
And, as I sat in the midst of this cathedral to Carp, I became conscious that behind all the beautiful but artificial items in my life, lovely though they may be, there is some spirit hidden of which the painted forms and shapes are but modes of manifestation, and it is with this spirit that I desired to become in harmony. I had grown tired of the articulate utterances of men and things. The Mystical in Art, the Mystical in Life, the Mystical in Nature this is what I was looking for. It was absolutely necessary for me to find it somewhere.
And here it was. Before me. Redmire Pool. More than a dream.
Accreditations
Paragraph 11 – direct quotation from the poem "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth.
Anti-penultimate paragraph – a passing familiarity with a poem (author unknown to me) that appears in “Confessions of a carp fisher”, by B B.
Penultimate and anti-penultimate paragraphs – indirect quotations and inspiration drawn from “De Profundis”, by Oscar Wilde. And to Jack (Zander1), for opening my mind.
HOME PAGE
I don't know what inspired them, as my parents had shown not the slightest interest in fish or fishing all their days. To this very moment I wonder at it; but forever have I thanked them for the book they gave me on Christmas Day, 1976. I was twelve years of age.
Almost as soon as I picked it up, “Mr Crabtree Goes Fishing” held me firmly in its grip; a grip it has retained all my life. To my young and urban mind the description of the seasons, the fish, the methods by which they may be caught, and the wonderful comic strips of Mr Crabtree and Peter, were transportations into a fascinating world of which I knew nothing.
I finished it within a week, and was soon badgering my parents for a fishing starter kit. As time passed, a familiar story unfolded: the hoarding of pocket money for bait and more tackle, many a day out devoid of even a silver fish, several bird's nests to undo or, more usually, to cut, and the obligatory, but no less “splendid Perch” as my first prize. I had not come very far, but I had at least taken a few steps on the angling road that, mercifully, seems not to have and end.
As boyhood turned to adolescence I added to my tackle and improved my technique; and I also paid several visits to the library where, instead of revising for my school exams, I headed straight for the fishing section. I read everything I could find, and it was here that I first came across a fish called Clarissa, a man called Walker, and a pool called Redmire. I didn't realise it at the time, but an immutable and eternal seed had been sown in my young mind.
As adolescence in its own turn became Manhood, and as my mind veered towards issues of career, my fishing time diminished and then slowly disappeared, as did my piscatorial studies. Finally, the transition was completed and I became a slave, bent to the wheel of commerce, a worshipper at the altar of Mammon, and a man most firmly under authority. The items that populated my life began to change. Gone were the lilly pads, mighty oak trees, and shining waters; to be replaced by artwork, sculpture, and business class travel. I measured the content of my character by the size of my house, and I told myself I was successful. I had arrived at a place that most would call fortunate, some would obtain, many misunderstand, but from which only a very few can ever hope to move on to a higher and better mode of existence. But, even as it was sleeping, the Redmire seed was still there, kept in a secret chamber of my mind; a chamber of which I knew little, or perhaps even nothing.
After many years, and a career almost ruinous to my health, I decided, upon my fortieth birthday, to re-join my fellow anglers on the lake side and to introduce some much needed peace and calm into my life once more. I became a carp angler. With time, I like to think I became a reasonable carp angler; and now the Redmire seed had awoken and was starting to grow. Moreover, the passage of time allowed me to lay aside the old books and explore the new medium of the internet. And it was in this way that I rediscovered the one true Mecca of Carp angling. But not only that, I found Redmire had its own website, a forum, and, glory be, it was open to the public via a booking system. It took me four years of trying, but eventually I succeeded in securing a booking slot. The seed had grown good and strong now and had almost come to full bloom. I was going fishing at Redmire Pool come the next July.
As I arrived at the estate, I felt almost childlike again and, after I turned into the approach lane, my excitement knew few bounds. I was greeted by the bailiff who directed me through the gate and, after a few yards, I saw it. It was only a glimpse, but I actually saw Redmire Pool with my own eyes. Forgotten were the pictures in the books and on the internet, this was the real thing. But the glimpse I was afforded was merely a tantalizing canapé – a taster to ready me for the feast yet to come.
Of course I stood at the dam end and, like every other Redmire angler before me, admired the view. I had waited thirty years to take in this vision, and every sense was put on high alert to drink in its maximum fill.
The gentle breeze came across me from the East, freshening my face, and casting ripples around and between the weed as it went. There was an aroma of recently cut grass, some sapling trees I could not place, the heavy scent of silt, the slightly sour odour of long soaked weed, and a suggestion of mint. I gazed along the Eastern bank down to the South, and back along the Western side. I was looking for the legendary pitches of which I had heard so much - Inghams, The 35 pitch, Pitchfords, and, of course, The Willow Pitch. What came to my eyes was a master-work of Mother Nature, a crucible of natural glory, and, as I stood, the sun cast a dappling light upon the water, the breeze made a rustling in the myriad leaves, and the songbirds could be heard singing, as if to bid me welcome. I was transfixed by this Aphrodite of natural perfection.
I had known this pool all my life, better than any other, and now it was made real for me. Here it was, right before me, a glorious coronal of history, of nature, and of legend. Only later did I know the true meaning of Wordsworth's words:
“I gazed, and gazed, but little thought
What wealth the show to me had brought:”
I felt ashamed as I moved my equipment into the ancient Willow Pitch. It didn't seem right to bring such modernity to the very place where Mr Richards caught his 31lb fish on honey paste and Roach tackle, and also where Mr Walker landed Clarissa on crusted bread and a home-made rod, and in so doing changed carp fishing forever.
In deference to these past greats, I built a free-lined set-up, put two dog biscuits straight onto the hook, snubbing the modern hair, paused for a moment as if in silent prayer, and then cast my line onto the timeless water. At long, long last – I was fishing Redmire Pool.
Anyone watching my silent figure sitting quietly beside the lake and fishing, would have little or no reason to look again at so unremarkable a thing. But for me, the time, the air, the colours, light and shade, the very shape of things, stirred within me a profound change. Out of my spirit came a new and exciting freshness; an abandonment to Nature that was thrilling to feel, quiet and peace, calm and contentment, happiness that laughed silently, wonder that could find no voice, jubilation that was struck dumb.
And, as I sat in the midst of this cathedral to Carp, I became conscious that behind all the beautiful but artificial items in my life, lovely though they may be, there is some spirit hidden of which the painted forms and shapes are but modes of manifestation, and it is with this spirit that I desired to become in harmony. I had grown tired of the articulate utterances of men and things. The Mystical in Art, the Mystical in Life, the Mystical in Nature this is what I was looking for. It was absolutely necessary for me to find it somewhere.
And here it was. Before me. Redmire Pool. More than a dream.
Accreditations
Paragraph 11 – direct quotation from the poem "I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud" by William Wordsworth.
Anti-penultimate paragraph – a passing familiarity with a poem (author unknown to me) that appears in “Confessions of a carp fisher”, by B B.
Penultimate and anti-penultimate paragraphs – indirect quotations and inspiration drawn from “De Profundis”, by Oscar Wilde. And to Jack (Zander1), for opening my mind.
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Sunday, 19 April 2009
Essays
Below you will find an expanding list of essays. They focus on various aspects of carp angling. Sometimes they are serious, and sometimes light-hearted. I hope you enjoy them.
The Art of Using a Carp Forum
An Article on Redmire Pool written for a competition
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The Art of Using a Carp Forum
An Article on Redmire Pool written for a competition
HOME PAGE
The Art of Using a Carp Forum
Prior to, perhaps, the year 2000, the carp forum was a rare thing. In order to get a steady supply of information, the carp angler (we shall call our fictitious angler Rob) had to resort to the weekly and monthly magazines, his local tackle shop, or his friends. The essential and most important feature of all these information sources is that they are in-bound. That is to say, all Rob had to do was either listen or read.
The carp forum has changed that because, now, Rob, in order to participate, has to write. And, having read my own way through a vast number of forum threads, I have concluded that writing would seem largely beyond the reach of Rob and many (but not all) of his cohorts. I am not criticising Rob (nor anybody else for that matter), and I am not saying that he is not a good or keen angler. Neither do I mean to suggest he is lacking intellectually. In fact, I attribute no cause whatsoever to this state of affairs apart from, perhaps, that Rob missed the odd English language lesson at school.
This phenomena has caused me to write this short essay and hold it up with a possibly vein hope of improving things in the way of forum posting.
I do so for a very simple reason. When Rob makes a post on a forum thread, he is trying to impart information, either to an individual, or to the public at large. I think, logically, we are on safe ground so far. However, if Rob's message is to find its mark, and find it with maximum impact, then the clearer and easier it is to understand, then the more successful Rob's effort will be. Again, I think that is logically sound.
But there is more to it than that. Forums are not places where we meet person to person. The only means Rob has of projecting himself and creating an impression, is through what he writes and the manner in which he writes it. We perceive others through our words, and Rob can raise himself up in the esteem of his peers with a few well chosen and nicely delivered phrases. Should he focus his energies, he may even be classed as “educated”. And should this be the case, then the “educated” Rob may well be thought of as having knowledge, and then, in turn, intelligence. This is a truism, but also a fallacy. Knowledge and education do not lead automatically to intelligence. Intelligence is the ability to draw conclusions from, or make judgements on, knowledge. Knowledge on its own butters no parsnips.
But the opposite is also true. If Rob is renowned for unreadable blobs of blather, then, needless to say, he may very well be judged a blathering blobber, or, in extreme cases, a perfect brute. And who would like to be seen as such a man?
But let us be clear. It is not necessary for Rob to be the world's leading wordsmith in order to achieve success. On the contrary, a few simple rules will do him in order to raise the quality of his post's by a significant factor. So do please read on, and let us see if we can work things out for Rob.
The first thing we need to consider is the English language itself, and the modest number of structures necessary in order to convey a clear and concise message.
We will start with spelling. We are not all blessed with this art. In fact, with the advent of the word processor, we have seen a dramatic decline in the number of those able to count spelling among their accomplishments. And we cannot look to the spell checker to help us to any significant degree. Take the following sentence for example:
“wee can lock their at a examp0le too see if its rite. sum times its knot rite an did no help”
This will pass most spell checker tests, and yet there are no fewer than eleven spelling errors and five grammatical. No, no, no. This will not do. The only way to check the spelling of a word about which you are having doubt is to consult a dictionary. You may resort to a handy pocket edition, or for even easier access, visit this on-line site:
Dictionary Site
Now to grammar. This can be a tricky subject, but Rob needs only to understand a few basic rules and he will be well on his way.
First, the sentence. A sentence always begins with a capital letter and almost always ends with a full stop (or a period if Rob is American). Each sentence should be separated from its brothers by a space. Occasionally, a sentence may be enhanced by the use of a comma. A comma is simply a device to create a pause in a sentence. For example:
“We had a fine day fishing and we caught many fish, but it was hard work.”
From this we can see that the comma enhances the sentence and makes it easier to read.
There are many more aspects to sentences we could discuss, but this is all Rob needs to know in order to make good progress.
Next, the paragraph. A paragraph is simply a collection of related sentences, Paragraphs should always be separated by a blank line (except in books - it saves space), as can be seen from this essay. Paragraphs are a simple item to understand, and their use makes Rob's posts far less blobby.
So much for Language. Now to subject.
It is always advisable to place in the subject line something that will draw the attention of others, and in dong so, make them read what you have to say. A subject line of: “lots of” for example does not thrill or excite. Worse, it may confuse or even disturb. A far better example would be: “Back wind or clutch”. This immediately engages (as it were) and draws the reader in.
Now that we have established a fine set of language rules, and created a thoughtful subject line, we can proceed (using our language skills) to produce the finished post. A few further rules are all we need:
Always be courteous.
Always consider your audience.
Always show gratitude for any helpful replies.
And lastly, always enjoy using and learning from the excellent medium of a carp forum.
HOME PAGE
The carp forum has changed that because, now, Rob, in order to participate, has to write. And, having read my own way through a vast number of forum threads, I have concluded that writing would seem largely beyond the reach of Rob and many (but not all) of his cohorts. I am not criticising Rob (nor anybody else for that matter), and I am not saying that he is not a good or keen angler. Neither do I mean to suggest he is lacking intellectually. In fact, I attribute no cause whatsoever to this state of affairs apart from, perhaps, that Rob missed the odd English language lesson at school.
This phenomena has caused me to write this short essay and hold it up with a possibly vein hope of improving things in the way of forum posting.
I do so for a very simple reason. When Rob makes a post on a forum thread, he is trying to impart information, either to an individual, or to the public at large. I think, logically, we are on safe ground so far. However, if Rob's message is to find its mark, and find it with maximum impact, then the clearer and easier it is to understand, then the more successful Rob's effort will be. Again, I think that is logically sound.
But there is more to it than that. Forums are not places where we meet person to person. The only means Rob has of projecting himself and creating an impression, is through what he writes and the manner in which he writes it. We perceive others through our words, and Rob can raise himself up in the esteem of his peers with a few well chosen and nicely delivered phrases. Should he focus his energies, he may even be classed as “educated”. And should this be the case, then the “educated” Rob may well be thought of as having knowledge, and then, in turn, intelligence. This is a truism, but also a fallacy. Knowledge and education do not lead automatically to intelligence. Intelligence is the ability to draw conclusions from, or make judgements on, knowledge. Knowledge on its own butters no parsnips.
But the opposite is also true. If Rob is renowned for unreadable blobs of blather, then, needless to say, he may very well be judged a blathering blobber, or, in extreme cases, a perfect brute. And who would like to be seen as such a man?
But let us be clear. It is not necessary for Rob to be the world's leading wordsmith in order to achieve success. On the contrary, a few simple rules will do him in order to raise the quality of his post's by a significant factor. So do please read on, and let us see if we can work things out for Rob.
The first thing we need to consider is the English language itself, and the modest number of structures necessary in order to convey a clear and concise message.
We will start with spelling. We are not all blessed with this art. In fact, with the advent of the word processor, we have seen a dramatic decline in the number of those able to count spelling among their accomplishments. And we cannot look to the spell checker to help us to any significant degree. Take the following sentence for example:
“wee can lock their at a examp0le too see if its rite. sum times its knot rite an did no help”
This will pass most spell checker tests, and yet there are no fewer than eleven spelling errors and five grammatical. No, no, no. This will not do. The only way to check the spelling of a word about which you are having doubt is to consult a dictionary. You may resort to a handy pocket edition, or for even easier access, visit this on-line site:
Dictionary Site
Now to grammar. This can be a tricky subject, but Rob needs only to understand a few basic rules and he will be well on his way.
First, the sentence. A sentence always begins with a capital letter and almost always ends with a full stop (or a period if Rob is American). Each sentence should be separated from its brothers by a space. Occasionally, a sentence may be enhanced by the use of a comma. A comma is simply a device to create a pause in a sentence. For example:
“We had a fine day fishing and we caught many fish, but it was hard work.”
From this we can see that the comma enhances the sentence and makes it easier to read.
There are many more aspects to sentences we could discuss, but this is all Rob needs to know in order to make good progress.
Next, the paragraph. A paragraph is simply a collection of related sentences, Paragraphs should always be separated by a blank line (except in books - it saves space), as can be seen from this essay. Paragraphs are a simple item to understand, and their use makes Rob's posts far less blobby.
So much for Language. Now to subject.
It is always advisable to place in the subject line something that will draw the attention of others, and in dong so, make them read what you have to say. A subject line of: “lots of” for example does not thrill or excite. Worse, it may confuse or even disturb. A far better example would be: “Back wind or clutch”. This immediately engages (as it were) and draws the reader in.
Now that we have established a fine set of language rules, and created a thoughtful subject line, we can proceed (using our language skills) to produce the finished post. A few further rules are all we need:
Always be courteous.
Always consider your audience.
Always show gratitude for any helpful replies.
And lastly, always enjoy using and learning from the excellent medium of a carp forum.
HOME PAGE
Friday, 17 April 2009
The Carp Cup
The Carp Cup is being held on 9th and 10th May 2009, and it is my hope it will become an annual event thereafter.
The cup is being contested not only between men, but also between England and Hong Kong.
The English event is at Cutons Fishery – Specimen Lake 2. The website for the fishery is here:
Lake Website
The Honk Kong event is taking place at Pak Nai.
The rules are very simple:
All competitors must abide by any fishery rules.
Respect other anglers at all times.
No litter.
The treatment of fish is of the highest priority.
Two rods maximum per man.
Only limited alcohol in-take is permitted during the match.
Should a man land a fish worthy of being weighed, there will be a designated man who should adjudicate and record – paper and pens will be required for this.
The man with the largest fish wins the trophy, and his team wins the team event – next year I will try and get another trophy for the heaviest amount of fish. The trophy will be engraved with the winning team and team member; however, it will remain in the UK. I have asked if it could be placed next to The Ashes at Lord's.
Only carp count.
The Hong Kong team is called “The Honker's Haulers”, and will be fishing from 8:30 (their time) to 18:00 on 9th May. There is a paucity of over-night kit in HK it seems. Honk Kong is seven hours ahead of the UK.
The English team is called “The English Elite”, and will be fishing from 11:00AM on 9th to close of play on 10th. I advise that people arrive in plenty of time to set up and have a chat prior to the start time.
“The Honker's Haulers” team is made up as follows:
Willyt
Ken
Harry
Baxter
190c
OMC
Cardy
Carpa
Well done to Carpa in organising his end of the event.
“The English Elite” team is made up as follows:
Cowley1963 Paid £15 - Thank you
Cowley1963 Junior Paid £15 - Thank you
Tryzard - Alan Paid £30 - Thank you
Hague
His Noble Lordship
Yours Truly
Sadly, Fishboy2008 had to drop out owing to unforeseen circumstances. He sends everyone his best wishes.
So the Honkers have more manpower, but the Elites have more time.
Should anyone have any queries about this please either mail me (preferable), or call me on my fishing mobile number: 07505 607102. PLEASE NOTE – THIS IS NOT MY USUAL NUMBER.
If there is anything I have missed, please let me know.
May the best team win, but most of all, let us all enjoy it.
Many thanks,
S
HOME PAGE
The cup is being contested not only between men, but also between England and Hong Kong.
The English event is at Cutons Fishery – Specimen Lake 2. The website for the fishery is here:
Lake Website
The Honk Kong event is taking place at Pak Nai.
The rules are very simple:
All competitors must abide by any fishery rules.
Respect other anglers at all times.
No litter.
The treatment of fish is of the highest priority.
Two rods maximum per man.
Only limited alcohol in-take is permitted during the match.
Should a man land a fish worthy of being weighed, there will be a designated man who should adjudicate and record – paper and pens will be required for this.
The man with the largest fish wins the trophy, and his team wins the team event – next year I will try and get another trophy for the heaviest amount of fish. The trophy will be engraved with the winning team and team member; however, it will remain in the UK. I have asked if it could be placed next to The Ashes at Lord's.
Only carp count.
The Hong Kong team is called “The Honker's Haulers”, and will be fishing from 8:30 (their time) to 18:00 on 9th May. There is a paucity of over-night kit in HK it seems. Honk Kong is seven hours ahead of the UK.
The English team is called “The English Elite”, and will be fishing from 11:00AM on 9th to close of play on 10th. I advise that people arrive in plenty of time to set up and have a chat prior to the start time.
“The Honker's Haulers” team is made up as follows:
Willyt
Ken
Harry
Baxter
190c
OMC
Cardy
Carpa
Well done to Carpa in organising his end of the event.
“The English Elite” team is made up as follows:
Cowley1963 Paid £15 - Thank you
Cowley1963 Junior Paid £15 - Thank you
Tryzard - Alan Paid £30 - Thank you
Hague
His Noble Lordship
Yours Truly
Sadly, Fishboy2008 had to drop out owing to unforeseen circumstances. He sends everyone his best wishes.
So the Honkers have more manpower, but the Elites have more time.
Should anyone have any queries about this please either mail me (preferable), or call me on my fishing mobile number: 07505 607102. PLEASE NOTE – THIS IS NOT MY USUAL NUMBER.
If there is anything I have missed, please let me know.
May the best team win, but most of all, let us all enjoy it.
Many thanks,
S
HOME PAGE
Sunday, 15 March 2009
Confessions of a Carp Fisher by B B
Before I tell you a little of this book, let me say, without fear of contradiction, that it is most beautifully delivered. It is comprised of twenty chapters, including two by Flt-Lt Burton, and the quality of composition never dips a once. Clue number one.
The second, and perhaps equally telling clue, is that this is the favourite fishing book of one Christopher Yates.
Some readers may wish to halt their study here.
B B, or Denys Watkins-Pitchford, first gave us this delightful collection of stories, places, memories and advice in 1950, and this must not be forgot. Only a very few of us even knew of this time, much less ventured out in search of fish, and this must not be forgot either.
If you worship at the alter of modernity, therefore, you may not enjoy this book. If you rely for your inspiration on the next carp magazine edition, it is doubtful that you will enjoy this book. If you regard deep and ancient pools – those heavy with weed, surrounded almost entire by bristling Yew or laden Oak, inaccessible, except by forgotten paths, haunted by long dead priests, visible only after a walk of many miles, and reluctant – so, so reluctant, to give up their submerged treasures, as mere stuff or fancy, then you will most assuredly not enjoy this book.
And if you don't – you must regard yourself as a miserable, ungrateful soul; heartless, unthinking, devoid of inner beauty, and unworthy to class yourself truly as one of Izaak's eternal flock. And I care not if you disagree, as this is as lovely an anthology of piscatorial memorabilia as you will ever find. It is a thing of highest merit and to be enjoyed only - perhaps in a cosy nook, with a glass of ale and a restful eve spread before you. It meanders along like a sprightly stream, with stories of lakes (often trudged), fish (rarely caught), and dreams (always bright).
This work is memorable in so many ways, not least of all for the rich fund of tales and statements that stand out, jump out even, and which are worth committing to the mind. Even if they hold true no longer - this matters no great deal:
“But anyone expecting to hook and land a 15lb carp in the dark is the world's greatest optimist”.
“So far as my experience goes, it is certain that good luck is the most vital part of equipment of him who would seek to slay big carp. For some men I admit the usefulness of skill and pertinacity; for myself, I take my stand entirely on luck”.
These are merely two drips of a streaming torrent.
There is also an account of perhaps the most remarkable record carp catch ever recorded. On 24th July 1930, Mr Buckley, who had only ever fished for carp once before, sallied forth onto Mapperley Lake in search of carp, but was armed only with Roach tackle and line of three and a half pound breaking strength. Notwithstanding, Mr Buckley found. hooked, and landed a twenty six pound fish. His blow by blow account is recorded in his own words together with some comments on three other double figure fish he caught on that most memorable day.
Of course, the meaner minds will tell us that much of the book can now be disproved, and perhaps all be argued against. But this rather misses the point. If your mind is closed to anything but poundage and numbers, then do please read other volumes. But if you have any sense of history or artistry; of what a carp lake should really be, or of the true worth of even a modestly sized carp, then you may and should take a great deal from Mr Watkins-Pitchford's endearing work. It is a book with which to stock the more nobler recesses of the mind, should you posses them. It gripped me from the first page, sorrowed me when it ended, and entreated me to read it again. But I need no such entreaty, for I shall never part with it.
Such stories, lovingly told, and advice, freely given remember, come from an age gone by, and from a man who was helping to lay the foundation stones of the sport we have all, for one reason or another, come to love. B B and his like will only rarely be seen again, and then not obviously, for I fear they may have been forced to ground. But it must always be remembered that these men are our forebears, the trail-blazers, who spent countless hours and days either frozen, or sweltering, usually fishless, always patient, and ever dreaming of monsters of a size we now take for granted, and at which some even sneer. The determination, ingenuity, and sheer dogged patience of these men mark them out as special. If it were not for them, we none of us would be as we are today; we none of us could count so many prizes and have our lives filled so much with peace; and we should never have so rich and abundant a bounty from which to draw our boyhood hopes, and against which to measure our manly achievements.
If we are not grateful to B B and the other great men of carping history, and we must include Mr Walker and – yes- Mr Yates in their number, then surely we must be miserable scoundrels, and not worthy of the name: “fishers amongst men”.
Mr Yates chose exceeding well; and how I would like to fish at Beechmere Pool. Just once.
Thank you B B et al.
P.S. I have recently been given the following link, which provides historical background information on Beechmere Pool:
http://www.legendarydartmoor.co.uk/bradmere_pool.htm
HOME PAGE
The second, and perhaps equally telling clue, is that this is the favourite fishing book of one Christopher Yates.
Some readers may wish to halt their study here.
B B, or Denys Watkins-Pitchford, first gave us this delightful collection of stories, places, memories and advice in 1950, and this must not be forgot. Only a very few of us even knew of this time, much less ventured out in search of fish, and this must not be forgot either.
If you worship at the alter of modernity, therefore, you may not enjoy this book. If you rely for your inspiration on the next carp magazine edition, it is doubtful that you will enjoy this book. If you regard deep and ancient pools – those heavy with weed, surrounded almost entire by bristling Yew or laden Oak, inaccessible, except by forgotten paths, haunted by long dead priests, visible only after a walk of many miles, and reluctant – so, so reluctant, to give up their submerged treasures, as mere stuff or fancy, then you will most assuredly not enjoy this book.
And if you don't – you must regard yourself as a miserable, ungrateful soul; heartless, unthinking, devoid of inner beauty, and unworthy to class yourself truly as one of Izaak's eternal flock. And I care not if you disagree, as this is as lovely an anthology of piscatorial memorabilia as you will ever find. It is a thing of highest merit and to be enjoyed only - perhaps in a cosy nook, with a glass of ale and a restful eve spread before you. It meanders along like a sprightly stream, with stories of lakes (often trudged), fish (rarely caught), and dreams (always bright).
This work is memorable in so many ways, not least of all for the rich fund of tales and statements that stand out, jump out even, and which are worth committing to the mind. Even if they hold true no longer - this matters no great deal:
“But anyone expecting to hook and land a 15lb carp in the dark is the world's greatest optimist”.
“So far as my experience goes, it is certain that good luck is the most vital part of equipment of him who would seek to slay big carp. For some men I admit the usefulness of skill and pertinacity; for myself, I take my stand entirely on luck”.
These are merely two drips of a streaming torrent.
There is also an account of perhaps the most remarkable record carp catch ever recorded. On 24th July 1930, Mr Buckley, who had only ever fished for carp once before, sallied forth onto Mapperley Lake in search of carp, but was armed only with Roach tackle and line of three and a half pound breaking strength. Notwithstanding, Mr Buckley found. hooked, and landed a twenty six pound fish. His blow by blow account is recorded in his own words together with some comments on three other double figure fish he caught on that most memorable day.
Of course, the meaner minds will tell us that much of the book can now be disproved, and perhaps all be argued against. But this rather misses the point. If your mind is closed to anything but poundage and numbers, then do please read other volumes. But if you have any sense of history or artistry; of what a carp lake should really be, or of the true worth of even a modestly sized carp, then you may and should take a great deal from Mr Watkins-Pitchford's endearing work. It is a book with which to stock the more nobler recesses of the mind, should you posses them. It gripped me from the first page, sorrowed me when it ended, and entreated me to read it again. But I need no such entreaty, for I shall never part with it.
Such stories, lovingly told, and advice, freely given remember, come from an age gone by, and from a man who was helping to lay the foundation stones of the sport we have all, for one reason or another, come to love. B B and his like will only rarely be seen again, and then not obviously, for I fear they may have been forced to ground. But it must always be remembered that these men are our forebears, the trail-blazers, who spent countless hours and days either frozen, or sweltering, usually fishless, always patient, and ever dreaming of monsters of a size we now take for granted, and at which some even sneer. The determination, ingenuity, and sheer dogged patience of these men mark them out as special. If it were not for them, we none of us would be as we are today; we none of us could count so many prizes and have our lives filled so much with peace; and we should never have so rich and abundant a bounty from which to draw our boyhood hopes, and against which to measure our manly achievements.
If we are not grateful to B B and the other great men of carping history, and we must include Mr Walker and – yes- Mr Yates in their number, then surely we must be miserable scoundrels, and not worthy of the name: “fishers amongst men”.
Mr Yates chose exceeding well; and how I would like to fish at Beechmere Pool. Just once.
Thank you B B et al.
P.S. I have recently been given the following link, which provides historical background information on Beechmere Pool:
http://www.legendarydartmoor.co.uk/bradmere_pool.htm
HOME PAGE
Saturday, 14 March 2009
Tony's Puddle
Billericay
Travelling from London towards Southend on the A127, leave at the exit signposted for Billericay. After a long sweeping bend you will reach a roundabout. Leave the roundabout at the Billericay / Noak Bridge exit. At the next roundabout go straight across again towards Billericay / Noak Bridge. Follow the road for around 1.5 miles. There are fields on your right, but when houses appear, turn right into a track, which leads you to The Billericay Aquatics Centre. At the rear of the centre is the carp park, and the lake is in front of you.
Pricing
I could not find any official notice board giving prices and concessions, but we were charged £10 for two rods on a day ticket.
Access
The car park is directly behind the South bank and is only a few steps away from the swim there. The walk-ways around the lake are word-chipped, and seem regularly tended. The path along the Western side is quite narrow, but easily navigable with a little care. Access really is no problem at all, and the farthest swim is no more than seventy yards away.
Water Details and Fish Stock
The water is perhaps three quarters of an acre in size – certainly no more than an acre. It is vaguely triangular in shape, with the South bank forming the base. This is approximately Sixty yards wide. The two sides of the triangle trail Northward with a bay forming a bulbous apex. Behind the South bank to the left is a very small pond which is part of the lake but separated by a bridge and seems more used by geese than anglers.
We fished a double swim on the South bank and found that the water was no more than one foot deep immediately beneath our rod tips. To our right was an over-hanging, and partly submerged tree, and it was from this feature that I had three runs, only one of which produced a fish. Also to our right is a pipe which, in the Summer, pumps water into the lake, and I imagine this oxygenating feature will attract fish. We didn't plumb the other margins, which was a mistake. The average depth cannot be much more than four or five feet. We also found that in the Northern bay there is a small depression, which really seems to hold the fish. Whilst we were there, three or four fish were taken from this open water spot, and I would definitely fish there next time.
In the middle of the lake there is a submerged island, which is the only obvious, open water feature, and we saw fish moving around the two stumpy tree trunks which are all that remains of the island. The bottom of the lake is slightly silty, but there are firmer areas should you take the time to find them.
The lake is stocked with carp to over thirty pounds and has (we were told) two Cat Fish over forty pounds. There are Common, Mirror, Koi, and hybrid carp, which look like Ghost Carp but are not. Eels are also present, but we were not bothered by them and I imagine they are a good food source for the “Cats”. From what I could gather there is a very large number of fish for the size of water. We were also told that the Catfish lie up along the Western side of the lake and may be caught using dead baits. As eels form a natural part of their diet, they may also prove useful as a bait.
However, the main problem with the lake is its size. It is very small, and cannot accommodate more than two or three anglers before people start to cast over each other. On the day we fished, there were five anglers and this proved difficult. In the Summer months I imagine it would be either impossible to get a swim, or fish it sensibly if you did. This is great shame as this place could provide some good fishing if numbers were restricted.
Venue Condition
The carp park is approached via a small lane and is gravelled. The swims and walk-ways are all wood chipped and in very good condition. Tony, the owner, comes around twice daily and picks up any litter, and there are rubbish bins provided for those who choose to use them.
Everything is well tended and thoughtfully adorned. We spent ten minutes or so chatting with Tony, who is getting on in years. However, he must be some kind of amateur comedian for I cannot remember when I have laughed so hard and so frequently, as he trotted out a few pages of his eventful and colourful life.
Session Details
Lord G and I fished in Mid-March and we were lucky, as the day was clear and blue. There was a slight but steady breeze from the South West which kept our hats on, and put a ripple on the water. The day was mild and around the 14 degree Centigrade mark. It was perhaps the warmest day of the year so far. The water was still cold, but fish could be seen moving, especially around the Northern depression.
We baited the sunken tree to my right very lightly with pellet and used small pellet PVA bags there and on the farther lines. But this was all at the start, and later, especially towards dusk, when there was much increased fish activity we duly increased our feeding slightly, but failed to temp any “last knockings” fish.
We started fishing about 9AM and ceased only when the light failed. I bagged a 5lb Common from my marginal tree, and was caught up there by two other fish of unknown size. This nook definitely holds fish if things are quiet. His Lordship took a very pretty Mirror from a spot to the left and ten yards beyond the island. We used simple, semi-fixed bolt rigs in tandem with flying and tethered back leads to keep our lines as close to the bottom as possible. This tactic is proving very useful in reducing line bites and, we hope, the number of fish we spook.
Summary
Tony's Pool is a small but interesting venue. There is something about it that makes me want to go back. But I will not do so until next Winter, because if there are more than a few anglers present, the fishing must become intolerable. Tony does a good job in looking after the place, and is one of the wittiest people I have met for some time. I would like to book the whole lake for myself and The Noble Lord in Spring, but I don't see how this would be possible without the continuous presence of a stern bailiff to turn others away; and I would not like to place such a burden on Old Tony.
How Not to Fish
Originally Lord G and I were going to fish Gloucester Park Lake, but we popped into Tony's place as it was on the way, and I had not seen it. As we pulled into the carp park, the lake was calm and the air still, but what impressed itself upon me most was the total absence of humankind. It was mid-week and so I turned to His Lordship and suggested we might be lucky and have the lake to ourselves. He agreed, and shortly thereafter we cast our lines upon the water.
Unhappily for us, another gent arrived after an hour or so; but he settled himself nicely into the North pool swim and disturbed us only because he caught more fish than we did.
But the real event came after a further hour. A white van heaved its way into the carp park behind us (I later concluded that “CHAV 1” would have been a suitable number plate), and out came two occupants. The first was not an unreasonable chap, and he spent most of the day quietly (almost quietly) watching his rods. But the other was a different proposition altogether. He was a being of tremendous girth, with a broad, open face, containing two, unthinking eyes. Clad in a brilliant white, Persil tee-shirt, he had a voice that boomed across the sleeping fields, and a tread of which Godzilla would have been proud. He descended upon us immediately and implored us, with ill-formed words, to tell him what bait we were using, and to give up a full and comprehensive account of our catch figures.
We tried our very best to say nothing without appearing rude, and he quickly realised that we were quiet and uncommunicative creatures in his presence. But this did not deter him. Without any verbal word play to work with, he decided to conduct a conversation on his own. He told us he had a good position in an un-named bank; that he made large sums of money making his own, spectacular boillies; and, when fishing Tony's small lake, if anyone were to cast over his line, he goes to the van, takes out a beach-casting rod (?), loaded with 80lb line and a 1lb lead, and throws it across all the lines within reach. He seemed immensely proud of his achievements.
After what seemed an age, he tired of our silence and stomped off down the left bank and started to set up two rods. He had electronic bite alarms set to “Air Raid Volume”, and played a badly composed concerto whilst connecting them. The very moment his lines were cast (mercifully far from mine), he looked around for other victims. Just then, the gent in the North pool swim had the enormous misfortune to hook a double figure fish, and this drew the monster like nothing else could. He spent thirty eight minutes booming at the poor chap, and we, and I imagine you, heard every word. All the fish in the water must have been wondering at this hollering crescendo.
Next he loped back down the bank and descended upon his friend. Great stamping and belly laughs could be witnessed as he amazed himself with his own wit. At last, after a further twenty minutes, he did take his place behind his own rods. But his was no crouching pose. He took guard on the highest patch of ground and created an enormous, glistening white hole in the sky line – like an over-grown snowman on speed.
Needless to say, the fellow did not stay still for long. His patience was sorely tried after a bite-less ten minutes. And so, he abandoned his swim, climbed into his van, and drove off amid a swirl of gravel, leaving rods and tackle behind; lonely on the waterside. Old Tony came out just then and asked the other fellow where his friend had gone. “To the doctors”, he said!
After an hour the creature returned with the world's largest bag of chips and chomped, stomped, and romped around. He looked hither and thither for new people to harangue; but was foiled, as he had already covered the entire lake. This left him somewhat crestfallen because, after another half an hour, he announced: “Not much 'appenin' ere. I'm goin' 'ome.”
He packed up his gear. Out of the four hours he had spent “fishing”, he had not looked once upon the water, not studied his rods for above half an hour, and had probably spooked every Carp in Essex.
I was not sad to see him go; but I was grateful to him for a supreme lesson in how not to fish.
The Exploits of Lord Grimpenmoor
The day was blue and shining when we took guard on our Southerly pitch. I was armed with my modern equipment and Lord G had his Walker's Wonder split cane device, and his equally ancient centre pin reel. I was fishing ledger style, and His Lordship had a medium quill of red and white.
After a while, and as expected, Lord G touched me on the shoulder and whispered. “I'm off to find some fish old chap!”.
“Right ho!”, I replied and watched as he took up his rod and net, and slowly, and very, very quietly, made his creeping, angular way around the lake. I could occasionally see the bob of his head as he made progress amongst the assorted bark and greenery. He was like some giant, hunched heron, with a keen eye, and pointed beak. Just then I saw him halt and become rigid – he had seen something. Almost imperceptibly, Lord G reversed himself some forty yards back down the lake, all the time with his eyes glued to the same spot.
At last he came to an old Yew tree. The tree was sturdy but made a gentle lean towards the lake, as if in continuous and silent prayer. It had an array of branches that, in the Spring, must have reached out to the water in a glorious mass of green and yellow. He laid his tackle on the ground and patiently (and I imagine noiselessly) climbed up to a stout but bent limb. And there he stayed for thirty minutes or so, submerged and almost a part of his surroundings. Presently he climbed down, took up his gear and made his creaking, bobbing way back up the bank. He found a spot well shielded by reeds, with some sleeping lilies about ten yards from the waterside. I knew he had taken some dog biscuits with him, and I saw him attach one to his hook. His Lordship shuns the use of the hair as “new fangled nonsense”. His method is to take a dog biscuit and, with a small hack-saw blade, he cuts a slight groove. He then puts a small drop of super-glue (a surprisingly modern method for Lord G) into the groove, holds the biscuit there for ten seconds or so and is ready to cast. And cast he did.
My rods were silent and still in front of me, so I watched Lord G closely as he teased and pulled the biscuit around the pads. He is often successful when free-lining a bait on the surface, and success usually comes quite swiftly. But this time it didn't. His Lordship tried time and again with his bait, and dropped it in every conceivable location around the lilly pads. But no action and no take came from his efforts.
Eventually he retreated from his reedy lair, and returned to where I was sitting. “We have a trouble maker David”, he said. “Come with me and I will show you what I mean”.
Lord G directed me to climb up to his branch and watch his bait. This I did, and from my vantage point I had a good view of the lilly pads. They were perhaps twenty yards apart at the furthest extent, and I could make out several dark shapes beneath the water, patrolling around the pads. Lord G threw in three biscuits, waited a moment, then cast his bait onto the pads and expertly drew it back to rest amongst the free offerings. There must have been four or five fish slurping around the lilies, some weighing into the double figure bracket, and it was an easy thing to watch them slowly glide up to the biscuits and suck them off the surface. However, and this amazed me, every time a fish started to approach the baited hook, another fish - a Common Carp of no more than five pounds - would nudge the would be diner out of the way, even if it was a bigger and older fish. I was staggered.
His Lordship beckoned me to descend.
“Did you see the trouble maker?”, he asked.
“I certainly did” I replied, “I've never seen anything like it. That small common is warning them away from the bait”.
“That it is laddie. I've seen it before. Sometimes a shoal gives up a highly intelligent fish which can spot a bait and line a mile off. Usually they just remain happily uncaught all their lives, but very, very occasionally you find one that leads the group and looks out for its safety”.
“What should we do?” I asked, still stupefied by this fishy behaviour.
“We need a pincer movement. Go and get a rod. Take off that blasted tackle of yours, and rig it up to free-line a biscuit. Size 10 hook, and you can use that daft hair thing if you wish”.
I did just as I was bidden, and very soon was back at his side with a rod made up as he had asked.
“Now listen laddie (how old must I be for him to stop calling me that?). We need a spot of teamwork here. We will go at them together. I will put in two biscuits on the left flank, and two to the right. We will both cast, one either side, and with any luck our pincer should be too much for the blighter. The last time I saw the Common it was on the left flank, so I will try and tie him down there, and you can try and land one whilst I have him pinned”.
I could see the sense in His Lordship's directions, and realised the need to act in unison.
“Ready?” he whispered. “”Now”.
We both flicked our baits out; mine to the right, his to the left. I admit my heart was pounding with the fish in such close proximity. I could see them moving around my line, gliding up to the surface to take a casual look at the world. His Lordship was stock still five yards to my left, allowing only his finger to move as he gently tweaked his line. I was waiting for my bait to disappear at any moment. I could not see the small Common, and I imagined Lord G had him occupied. The world stood still, and I almost stared my bait into invisibility. My senses were closed to anything but the line, the bait, and the fish.
Just then a huge dark shape came up close to my trap. He nosed slowly around the surface and sucked in one of the free biscuits – “an appetizer”, I thought – and now for the main course! He sank slowly out of sight, but every muscle in my body was on red alert as I waited for the moment of truth. But then, to my huge disappointment, I saw the Common patrol around my bait. The blasted fish was on my side of the pads!
And then it happened. There was a quick tightening of the line, a rod struck into the air and arched over, and a great swirling splash came from the water. But the rod wasn't mine. It was His Lordship's. He had connected with a fish, and was frantically trying to hold it away from the snags. He held on grimly as the fish pulled with all its might. He put the rod beneath the surface and stood his ground firmly. It was a dual between the two, with the tackle nearing its maximum limits. But slowly, very slowly, the fish seemed to turn away from the pads and into open water.
“That's better” was His Lordship's comment as he raised the rod slightly, “Now I've got you”.
But the fish was far from beaten. He made a surging run and the line screamed off the reel. He must have taken twenty yards of line before Lord G could check him. But check him he did, and he gradually brought him closer to the bank. Another run followed, but this time not so far, and not so furious. Lord G was winning the fight.
“I will play him in open water Laddie. There are no snags out there. When I get him close, I don't suppose he will be pleased to see us and could dash off into the pads again.”
And so, using these tactics, the fish was gradually played to a stop at distance. I could see the logic. Usually when a fish sees us or the net, it gets a new wind and can be difficult to hold.
At last the fish seemed bested. Lord G was making ground easily now, and the moment of truth was approaching.
“The net Laddie. I think we have him”.
“Right ho My Lord”. I moved closer and took up the net. The net in question was His Lordship's ancient, short handled, cane job, so I had to get as close to the lake as possible. The fish was coming in nicely now, most of the fight gone from him.
“OK Laddie, push out the net. I will draw him in”. I did as I was told, and held the net out as far as I could. But it was too short, and I couldn't get it out further than the reeds. I cautiously moved forward holding the pole at maximum length. His Lordship drew the fish in and I could see it was a beautiful Mirror Carp; all bronze down the flank and gold at the tail. But still I couldn't get the net under him. I moved even further forward, testing the ground as I went. And, at last, I had the net in clear water and the fish was drawn into the mesh.
“Well done Laddie. Let's have a look at him”.
I slowly pulled the net towards me. As it came in I tried to lift the mesh out of the reeds so as not to harm the fish. I had him in my arms, and turned to present him to Lord Grimpenmoor.
“It a cracking Mirror Lord G”. I said. But just as I did so my right foot gave way. It started slipping down an incline. I tried to offer the fish higher so Lord G could tale it.
“I have it Laddie”, he said, but this final effort on my part had been too much for my foothold. My right leg spread away from me; I was thrust sideways, and as I turned, my arms flailing in the air, I fell backwards into the reedy, watery gloom.
It was a cold awakening, and not an easy task to get myself on dry land again, which I eventually managed further down the bank.
“Ah, there you are Laddie.” said His Lordship. “We'll weigh this one I think. Twenty two and a half is my guess”.
And, of course, twenty two and a half pounds of beautiful Mirror Carp it was.
“Remember Laddie”, said Lord G. “Some fish are smarter than others. Just like humans.”
I looked down at my soaking form, and then up at the dry Lord. I had to agree with him.
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Monday, 9 March 2009
Suggested Reading Sequence
Please find below three options from which to choose. They are self-explanatory. Each option makes suggestions as to what reading sequence may be most appropriate to you.
Suggestions for the sensitive and cultured angler.
Suggestions for the keen angler.
Suggestions for the perfect brute.
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Suggestions for the sensitive and cultured angler.
Suggestions for the keen angler.
Suggestions for the perfect brute.
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Friday, 6 March 2009
Carp forums and other useful sites
Here is a list of forums and sites that I have found useful and occasionally entertaining.
Forums
Carp.com is a large site with several sections. It has over sixty eight thousand forum members worldwide and whenever I have posted there I have always had intelligent and good advice. I even met The Noble Lord Grimpenmoor on this site, and for that I am truly grateful.
Click here for Carp.com
Tackle Trading
Tackle Trader is a large site with a enormous volume of enquiries each month (they say around 90,000). As its' name suggests, it is a tackle trading site where you can browse through items others have to sell and perhaps pick up a bargain. Or you can place an advertisement yourself or even a "wanted" ad'. You will need to be slightly careful when dealing with people you don't know, but generally the site has an excellent reputation for fair dealing. I even bought a rod from there for myself at a bargain price.
Click here for Tackle Trader
"Carp Fishing Bargains" is a relatively new site, but it has already grown into a very useful resource. You can buy tackle and bait, and there are numerous reviews and guides offering sound advice. What is nice about the site is that they don't continually force their products upon you and there are some genuine bargains to be had.
Click here for Carp Fishing Bargains
Weather forecasts
We all know how important the weather is to our fishing, and prior to any of my trips I check the forecasts with great trepidation on a daily basis. Sadly, some forecasters are better than others, but the best one I have found is called "Weather Underground".
Click here for Weather Underground
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Forums
Carp.com is a large site with several sections. It has over sixty eight thousand forum members worldwide and whenever I have posted there I have always had intelligent and good advice. I even met The Noble Lord Grimpenmoor on this site, and for that I am truly grateful.
Click here for Carp.com
Tackle Trading
Tackle Trader is a large site with a enormous volume of enquiries each month (they say around 90,000). As its' name suggests, it is a tackle trading site where you can browse through items others have to sell and perhaps pick up a bargain. Or you can place an advertisement yourself or even a "wanted" ad'. You will need to be slightly careful when dealing with people you don't know, but generally the site has an excellent reputation for fair dealing. I even bought a rod from there for myself at a bargain price.
Click here for Tackle Trader
"Carp Fishing Bargains" is a relatively new site, but it has already grown into a very useful resource. You can buy tackle and bait, and there are numerous reviews and guides offering sound advice. What is nice about the site is that they don't continually force their products upon you and there are some genuine bargains to be had.
Click here for Carp Fishing Bargains
Weather forecasts
We all know how important the weather is to our fishing, and prior to any of my trips I check the forecasts with great trepidation on a daily basis. Sadly, some forecasters are better than others, but the best one I have found is called "Weather Underground".
Click here for Weather Underground
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What's Coming Up
Here is a list of items that will appear on the site in the very near future:
We are holding The Carp Cup on the weekend of 9th & 10th May. Results and escapades to follow.
Some field test results for an exciting and secret new bait, together with a guide on how to conduct such a field test.
A review of "Confessions of a Carp Fisher" by B B. COMPLETE
A review of the most famous angling book ever written. "The Compleat Angler" was first published in 1653 and has remained in print ever since, which must be something of a record.
A review of the unmissable first DVD in the "Catching the Impossible" series. COMPLETE.
A review of "Caught in Time" - the visualised diaries of Chris Yates.
A venue and catch report of our next fishing expedition on 3rd April. As ever, this be accompanied by some more exploits of Lord Grimpenmoor.
An extension of my "How to Start Carp Fishing" guide.
And, of course, all the while my book featuring Lord Grimpenmoor and a wealth of simple but excellent advice is in progress. I have not yet fully decided on a title, but "The Slumberous Deep" is appealing.
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We are holding The Carp Cup on the weekend of 9th & 10th May. Results and escapades to follow.
Some field test results for an exciting and secret new bait, together with a guide on how to conduct such a field test.
A review of "Confessions of a Carp Fisher" by B B. COMPLETE
A review of the most famous angling book ever written. "The Compleat Angler" was first published in 1653 and has remained in print ever since, which must be something of a record.
A review of the unmissable first DVD in the "Catching the Impossible" series. COMPLETE.
A review of "Caught in Time" - the visualised diaries of Chris Yates.
A venue and catch report of our next fishing expedition on 3rd April. As ever, this be accompanied by some more exploits of Lord Grimpenmoor.
An extension of my "How to Start Carp Fishing" guide.
And, of course, all the while my book featuring Lord Grimpenmoor and a wealth of simple but excellent advice is in progress. I have not yet fully decided on a title, but "The Slumberous Deep" is appealing.
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Monday, 2 March 2009
A New Bait - The Field Test
Watch this space to for details of a new bait, not yet on the market.
I, and The Noble Lord Grimpenmoor, will be field testing the new bait in the next couple of weeks.
Results and details to follow.
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I, and The Noble Lord Grimpenmoor, will be field testing the new bait in the next couple of weeks.
Results and details to follow.
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Sunday, 1 March 2009
Catching the Impossible: DVD One of Three
If you liked "A Passion for Angling" it will be a most curious thing if do not enjoy this; and enjoy it immensely. As a matter of fact, if you have just a modicum of beauty in your soul, you may even fall a little in love with it.
But first, the facts:
The website for the series may be found here
There will eventually be three DVDs, each containing three, one hour films. The first is currently available, the others, I believe, are still in the cutting room, and will be "available in 2009".
To purchase the first DVD, please go here
The price is £29.90 inclusive of postage & packaging and VAT. Alternatively, you can telephone 0845 4082606.
There is also a 26 chapter, 372 page, hard cover book containing over 400 stills to accompany the series, priced at £31.45 inclusive of postage & packaging. A review of the book will appear on this site in due course.
This book may be purchased directly here
Or, if you prefer, you can use Amazon, which currently has the book priced at a lower mark of £24.95 with FREE Super Saver Delivery available - something of a commercial discrepancy I feel.
Amazon link
The films are produced and filmed by the award winning Hugh Miles, and it is easy to see why he has earned his awards. I don't think it is any exaggeration to say that these films contain some of the most stunning photography, both above and below water, that I have ever seen. Even with the advance of technology, I am finding it hard to see how these pictures could possibly be bettered. The Korda (State of the art?) films pale into subdued ignominy by comparison, as these masterful sequences cover not only the fish in their watery lair, but also the abundant and beautiful wildlife that surround the rivers and lakes that contain them.
Like "A Passion for Angling", the films are narrated, gently and lovingly, by lifelong angler, Bernard Cribbins; but this time he is present on film, and is accompanied by twice UK record holding master angler, Martin Bowler - a nephew, I learned recently, of the "crazed, cackling catcher" himself, John Wilson!
The Cribbins' narration, background music, and Miles' filming coalesce and conspire to create a truly majestic visual experience. The viewer is transported to a world unseen, a world where shoal fish and monsters lurk, and one of which anglers can only dream. The sequences and backdrops can, and do, take the breath away.
But this is not a "how to" series. Far from it. Indeed, the tone and theme is set immediately by Cribbins when he states quite clearly: "and though catching a fish is the aim, it's really an excuse for being out here, in this beautiful spot, marvelling at the wildlife and wondering whether the fish will actually take the bait". Aficionados of hard core rig tying and angling methodology productions, à la the Korda films and Hearn books, beware - this is a celebratory symphony to Nature first, and a complimentary ballad to angling second.
In short, these productions enhance and make manifest the precise reasons I go fishing. And, if you are of a similar view, you will drink in these lovely films and dream. If not, then I am saddened, because they are masterpieces, and you may be missing out.
There are three films:
- Searching for Gold
- Magic Circles
- A Summer Idyll
The Kennet river keeper, Rob Starr, even makes an appearance as he helps some youngster catch tiny fish, shrimps, and crayfish with a jam jar for a keep net.
The films go on and Mr Bowler is tested further on a variety of waters that I would give my hind teeth to fish. Some other characters appear to swell the cast, including a trio of fly fishing sisters, Wendy Lythgoe - England Ladies Angling team member, and there is a friendly competition between Mr Bowler and a certain Christopher Yates. Mr Yates is late as usual and fishes, of course, with his split cane rod. Their quarry is Crucian Carp, and the prize is a pint of cider. Mr Bowler wins as he lands a huge Crucian; the biggest I have ever seen and almost another record.
But I won't go on any further. I would simply suggest that you purchase these films, sit back, and enjoy them.
Hearnians may not take to these graceful images, as they present no new magical baits or wonder rigs. Nor do they suggest that catching fish is the only reason to rise early and cast a line onto the water. They revel in the beauty of nature - swans appear and ask for breakfast; Turns, Grey Herons, Bitterns, Grebes and colourful Kingfishers all grace the scenes. They celebrate our "green and pleasant", "sceptered isle first", and the fish are a gorgeous enrichment second.
They are wonderful, quiet, gentle, and compulsive.
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