 They say it's the province of the elderly. Do you ever in your quieter moments reflect back to your early days of fishing, recalling the magic of the mystery when every water held a monster,and every waking moment was consumed with plans for their downfall. Is that vital element ''missing'' nowadays, is it due to having learned so much in the intervening years. Do you really want to know what is the biggest fish in any body of water? Have we really progressed to a point of becoming blase'? I for one hope not. What do you think?
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 Derek,I think there are those that fit into the categories you've stated. My guess is they won't still be fishing in years to come, or they are the fish chasers. The thing I've always found with my fishing, is the anticipation of not knowing what's in the depths before me,that is what makes it all worth while. Being on the bank of any fishery,watching the world, and nature go by is part of that too. But, that's always been the case,hopefully there are many of the younger age group that feel the same, and will have the same treasured memories, that you and I have when they get "elderly"
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 Knowing what is in the water can also be demoralising when you realise that it just isn't going to happen. Whereas having a vague idea adds to the 'what might be there' feeling. That is what keeps me going.
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 Derek - good post mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm for myself I've been backin to angling for 5 years and the thrill of the chase is still there - and long may it last
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Lets put it this way Derek........i often wish i could go back in time knowing what i know now 
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 Going back to my early years, the sane thing to have done would be to have given up completely. All the blanks. Its the joy of being out amongst nature, even on urban canals and the not realy knowing of what you might catch, if anything.
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Going back to my early years, the sane thing to have done would be to have given up completely. All the blanks. Its the joy of being out amongst nature, even on urban canals and the not realy knowing of what you might catch, if anything.
I was once on an urban canal and did not know what I'd catch - took 3 month and 2 courses of penicillin to get rid of it
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 I can go back to the late 40's when things were a whole lot different to modern times and I don't just mean the fishing tackle either because that evolves continually. The transport for one thing, it was either the Midland Red, the train or the chara if it was a works group and it usually entailed a lot of walking. Those early Sunday mornings ( most people had to work Saturday morning as part of their 46 hour week) when all sensible folks were still in bed trudging through Stratford upon Avon , Evesham orTewkesbury with a wicker creel, one rod, bankstick and landing net handle. In the creel were your bacon butties or jam butties and a bottle of Masons pop so it never left a lot of room for tackle. That early morning stillness and anticipation of the day to come was something very special and I can still take myself back to those days. The chara days were the best though, everone singing, someone playing the mouthorgan (there was always a mouthorgan player) the stop at the pub on the way home for a few pints of mild or bitter (not me I was too young to go in a pub) and the weary walk home after the chara dropped you off, very few people had cars in those days, only spivs and the landed gentry. Ah! Happy days indeed, everthing seemed so straightforward and simple then, most people had a happy smile on their face even though they had just gone through the deprivation of the war years and there was always someone who would offer help if it was needed.
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And you could ahve a good night out for 2 old pennies and still catch the last tram home We where poor but happy We were happy because we were poor 14 of us living in a house A house you say - we lived in a shoe box
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48 of us living in a rolled up newspaper in a septic tank Work 18 hours down the pit for 4 pence a month and when we got home our dad would slice us in 2 with a bread knife
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It's all on You Tube
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 The we'd eat a hand full of freezing cold gravel....
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And tell the youngsters today and they don't believe you
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nope
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drinking Chateau de Chateau
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Never had penniscillin in my day Your Lordship. Had to walk half hour to an old tip tocollect worms, walk for another hour until I git to two ponds that was free fishing. Forunately, it was down hill on the way home so I got back in just over an hour. Plus I was minus butties and drink. Caught my best ever roach in one of the ponds just after I started work, could afford half pint of maggots. feeder fished and had a 2 1/2 lber. No camera though, no witness as I was on my own. Well worth the walk. Ponds not on a bus route.
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nice one Wobbly - you know what you caught and that's what count not weight and pictures
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 "Is that vital element ''missing'' nowadays, is it due to having learned so much in the intervening years."
I like to think that 'element' is still present in my fishing Derek, but then most of my sessions are on rivers where the magic and the mystery are still alive.
"Do you really want to know what is the biggest fish in any body of water?"
No, not for me, I like to have an 'idea' of what a particular stretch of a river contains, but I am not interested in chasing known or named fish at all.
"Have we really progressed to a point of becoming blase'?"
Some anglers obviously have reached that point testament of which can be found in the angling media and on websites such as FM. For me I would have to get to the stage where when packing thw car I know exactly what I'll catch, and from which part of the lake.
GM notes with nostalgia:
"The chara days were the best though, everone singing, someone playing the mouthorgan (there was always a mouthorgan player) the stop at the pub on the way home for a few pints of mild or bitter (not me I was too young to go in a pub)"
Like Graham I was also too young to be allowed into the pub', so you sat outside hoping that one of the kindlier older annglers would take pity and bring us out a lemonade and maybe even a packet of crisps (the ones with the little blue paper bag of salt)
These days, after a session on my local river I often stop in at of the country pubs on my way home, sit outside and think back to those better, more gentle and far more enjoyable times.
An era when Carp were mysterious, Barbel rarely ever caught, where Dace and Roach were present in every river and the lakes held the 'doctor' fish but not in today's sizes.
I'm off to a quiet stretch of the Hampshire Avon this afternoon and maybe, just maybe I can recreate that atmosphere.
Derek, thank you for one of the most evocative threads for ages here on FM.
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| Edited: 26/07/08 05:43 |
 Just what I have been trying to capture in the last few trips I have had. That essential element, that mystery, that magic, has been lost, and sadly to many is now unknown, never to be discovered. I often hear them, the poor guys who's fishing today is confined to a muddy commercial. They will never know the delights that Derek has mentioned.
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