It certainly looked a marvellous swim, there’s no doubt about that; I had to fancy my chances, but nothing could have prepared me for the next five hours of the match!
It was mid July, 1973, and I was fishing a regular South Leeds Conservative Angling Club Sunday match on the River Swale near Helperby. Ted Heath was Prime Minister; Slade were No 1; you could fill your tank up at 7.6p a litre (that was about to change!!); buy a pint of Tetley’s for around 16p; Second Division Sunderland had beaten Leeds in the FA Cup (a disaster I’m reminded of every January!) and I’ve spent the whole of the summer listening to Pink Floyd’s “Dark Side of the Moon”.
I vividly remember sitting on my box a few feet above the river assessing my prospects. Facing downstream with the redundant Victorian railway bridge at my back, the river constricted through the arch, increasing the flow; the stout wooden posts protecting the far bank from erosion; the current pushing swiftly along the posts and tailing off at the end of my very inviting but snaggy swim.
At last! The first one on the bank.
There were about fifteen of us fishing on that day. It was dull, overcast and a little cool for July; the river, although at its normal summer level, was gurgling and slurping around a large, stumpy tree root at my feet. As I tackled up an extraordinary thing happened. A barbel leaped clear out of the water like an Atlantic salmon! Most of you would think that was a good indication, but I’d always been told that it was a bad sign seeing fish in your swim – “If you can see them, they can see you…” – so I didn’t change my plans to fish for dace and chub with a stick float.
I’d been fishing for about five years, only had two rods, two reels and a few bits and pieces. My standard approach to most sessions was to float fish, Bruce & Walker CTM 12A with a centre pin reel loaded with 2½lb line. My backup plan was invariably legering with my 11ft Milbro Mace and Intrepid Elite fixed spool reel with 3lb line, but things had to be bad before I resorted to that!
At the ‘All in’ I tossed a few maggots upstream and cast in, full of confidence and youthful anticipation. After ten minutes another barbel leapt out of the water at the end of the swim, but I stuck to my plans undeterred. I didn’t get a bite for an hour, although another couple of barbel had sportingly announced their presence. I decided to try legering, 3lb line, 1.7lb hooklink, size 18 hook, two maggots ten yards downstream without luck. In those student days, fairly strapped for cash, there were very few options for a change of bait. I hadn’t got any bread or cheese so the only variation I could think of was to change the number of maggots from two to one so I put a single white maggot on and cast in. To this day I can’t think of a good reason why a single maggot would perform any differently but that, it appeared, was what they were having!
Within seconds the rod tip slammed round urgently, I struck and the fish took off downstream; my rod curved in an impossible arc; the line was singing; the clutch was slipping and the fish was totally out of control. I applied the slightest of side strain, but to no avail as the fish headed for the wooden piles and sanctuary. It was all over in a few moments. The adrenalin was pumping through my veins. I’d broken into a cold sweat. I didn’t know what to do next.
I re-tackled using the 3lb reel line straight through and a size 16 hook, cast to the same place and two or three minutes later the very same thing happened. Being a bright university lad I repeated the operation with exactly the same results a third time! Time to put my thinking cap on; three pound line was the strongest line I had and it was not going to be enough, this was a bit outside my experience. I scampered down the river to one of the older members, Ronnie Benn, and told him what had happened, he immediately offered my his spare reel with 4lb line and told me to tie a size 14 hook to it and see what improvement I could make.
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| And another one! |
Back at my swim I prepared to cast in for a fourth time, but with stronger line. I had a couple of goes with two maggots because of the bigger hook, but I didn’t get a bite, so went back to a single maggot and instantly had success. This time I had some control, I managed to turn the fish away from the wooden piles and into the open water. A minute or two later I landed a smashing 3lb Swale barbel.
Over the next three hours I landed five barbel and lost a couple of bigger ones, my rod, an 11ft Milbro Mace, was a bit soft for hard fighting fish. I’d only been fishing for five years and this was the best day I’d had by a long way.
At the end of the match it transpired that I was the only member fishing who’d caught anything, I proudly weighed in 19lb 8oz, and collected the cash, about four pounds and fifty ‘New pence’. Ronnie Benn came bustling up with his rods at the ready and settled into my swim. Within five minutes he had one on the bank just to prove what a crap angler I was and that if he’d had the swim he’d have emptied it!
Now here’s the really interesting bit. The next day I got a telephone call from Chris Gray, the club secretary, asking whether I could do an interview with the Yorkshire Evening Post on Monday night up at the club. Apparently out of all the matches in Yorkshire that weekend, including big clubs like The Compton Arms and East End Park, the biggest weight apart from mine was 3lb 12oz. The whole of Yorkshire had fished a stinker except my swim! I gave the interview to Jim Lynch and awaited the Wednesday evening papers with a good deal of excitement.
I don’t know about you but I’ve always had a sneaking admiration for headline writers. You know the sort of clever puns that make you want to read the article;
On the wartime Prime Minister returning to the front line by air:
“CHURCHILL FLIES BACK TO FRONT”
The Sun’s;
HOW DO YOU SOLVE A PROBLEM LIKE KOREA?
A wartime headline;
“8TH ARMY PUSH BOTTLES UP GERMANS”
About lack of library services in Essex;
BOOK LACK IN ONGAR
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| Disappointing headlines…. |
So I was expecting something a bit special, maybe “BARBEL BLITZ!”, “ANDY’S BARBEL BIRTHDAY!” or “BRILLIANT, BREATHTAKING BARBEL!”, but this was not to be. Jim, or I suppose, the junior sub-editor had opened with;
JUMPING BARBEL! IT’S A GREAT DAY FOR ANDREW
Starting the article with the mind-numbingly dull:
“WHERE have all the fishes gone?… Gone to Andrew, every one.”
Truly awful, I’ve always harboured some resentment for that sub-editor. He missed a golden opportunity to create an all time classic headline:
“SUPERANDY BARBELTASTIC RESTAREALL ATROCIOUS!”
Andy Scholey
N.B. Thanks to Sean Meeghan for barbel pics.
