What is the longest time

[Jim Crosskey 2]

Mine would have been fishing from Nags Head Island on the Thames in Abingdon. At the time, I was regular in the pub and the landlord was fine with me and a mate fishing there quite regualarly. Anyway, it gave us access to a (previously) far bank swim that had seen quite a few good perch - now it was a near bank swim! I'd taken three good perch on small gudgeon livebaits about a rod length out. I was retrieving a cast to the point when the bait was literally about to break the surface when a large pike rushed out from under the bridge (downstream to my right) and grabbed it - lip-hooked on a size ten without a trace. It didn't fight that hard to begin with, and I actually got its head out of the water and half way over the net when it woke up and tore off under the bridge. It took about 50 yards of five pound bs line to a spot way the other side of the bridge, where the weird bit started. Everything went solid - i pulled as hard as i dared, but it was all solid. So I let the line go slack, keeping an eye on it for the fish free itself. Sure enough, after about five minutes, it suddenly started moving, at which point I started trying to make some line back. Bad move. The fish just took another 10 yards and locked up again. So I left it. The next time I mad a few. The next time it took a few.

The thing is, this was in a pub beer garden - my mate had just gone to get me a pint when I first hooked the fish. By now, there were a few bylookers (all with words of advice!). After about half an hour of virtual stalemate, I was starting to wish I'd never hooked it, because every bloke there was telling me what an idiot i was for fishing for pike without a trace (i was fishing for perch) or strong enough line (i was fishing for perch!).

Then it all went really solid. No movement for about ten minutes. Some of my audience drifted away. I'd really had enough by now and I knew my pint was flat. So, after leaving it longer than any of the previous times without any movement, I just heaved as hard as I could. I felt the line reach nearly breaking point - no movement. So I carried on pulling and there was a big "ping".... and I was reeling in slack. It felt like I was bringing in broken line but all of a sudden there was the unmistakeable thump of a decent fish - only this time it came straight to the net, whereupon the hook promtly fell out of the scissors.

At the time (no scales) I thought I'd caught a twenty pounder, but looking back on the picture (circa 1989) its probably more like 16. More frightening is the stone roses bowl/big-finge haircut - but that's another story.........

 

[The Monk]

2 hours on a french lake fishing for carp, I`m sure I hit a large cat, I could get its head off the bottom and never saw the fish

 

[Ron 'The Hat' Clay (ACA)]

If you had got out of the bivvy and kicked the French slapper in the lake you might have landed it. You can't do two things at the same time.

 

[The Monk]

haha, she was lovely mate and could speak a word of English

 

[Jim Pullin 2]

On the Bristol Avon in the early 70's. The barbel were in there but not big. I was fishing the Limpley Stoke weirpool, a big old eddy of a place with a good head of everything. The float slid away, I stuck and something very, very slowly wandered out into the middle of the weirpool with one very excited 14 year old hanging on for grim death. It merrily went about it's business with me and thirteen foot of glass float rod able to do bu**er all about it.At that point a bloke appeared at the top of the steep bank behind me and announced himself to be a photographer from the AT. As stardom beckoned and the snapper positioned himself for the shot that would no doubt appear on the front page of next week's AT under the headline "Schoolboy Lands Leviathan", yours truly bent lustily into the unseen monster and continued to make absolutely no impression on it at all for about half an hour. At one point the float reappeared, a huge tail pattern disturbed the surface and the float went back under again as the fish decided that it should investigate the depths once more. I suspect it didn't even know it was hooked. Some time (no idea how long really, my Timex was on my bedside next to my Look and Learns) later, with the trust lensman still presumambly shooting award-winning boy versus fish shots behind me everything suddenly went slack. I reeled in to find the hook a straight as a pin. Still, I thought, my place in posterity is secured. "Get some good pictures, though?", I asked hopefully. "Er, I was waiting for you to bring it to the surface." he replied. And left. No fish, no fame, no f*****g wonder I haven't bought the AT since.