''Bankside encounters''

[Derek Gibson]

You know the type, wandering the banks engaging anyone with a willing ear. I have met many over the years, and on ''odd'' occasions the chat has been pleasant and constructive. Some of those characters could be best described as colourful , others, well least said the better.

I recall one in particular that really shook and surprised me. I was fishing for Carp on a small club water, tucked well in beside a large bush floating a crust amongst a few free offerings. When a voice asked,''that's a Mk1V isn't it, I know the guy who designed it''. He then went on to describe his correspondence with **** Walker over many years, and their exchange of ideas. Except that in recent years their contact had been less and less.

Up until this point I was thoroughly enjoying his recollections, but then the conversation went rapidly downhill, when he said, ''Have you considered what effect bread has on Carp''. In what respect I asked, ''Well, it results in them developing the Ague, and that inhibits growth. You should see what it does to Gun dogs, Walker doesn't seem to grasp it'',

I was brought up to respect my elders, so I just nodded, but at the same time felt deeply saddened. Because by this time the penny had dropped, and I realised just who I was talking with. The guy had been a major force in angling for many years. Memorable, but for all the wrong reasons.

 

[thecrow]

Many years ago on my first Carp fishing trip to the Netherlands my friend and I had very little knowledge of Carping over there and as a result fished waters that we could find out about by talking to other anglers, we did very poorly for half of the week until one evening a Dutch angler came along the bank and asked how we were doing, on hearing how poorly we were doing he promised to come back the next day to show us a better water, next day he came back and he drove me 25 miles to show me the other water which we moved to that day, we had some good times on the water due to the chat on the bank and the true spirit of angling shown by the Dutch angler.

 

[Merv Harrison]

When I was ill, I was fishing a local pond with my mate Les, when another angler came round for a chat.....his opening line was..."My wife died of a Brain tumour a couple of weeks ago, her brother died last year of the same thing.......".

He talked for a good 30 minutes about his family, her family, good friends, all who had died of Cancer and how he was now suffering from psychological problems. He knew nothing about my problems.

Thank God my humour was still intact, when he'd gone, I turned to Les, who'd been laughing at my predicament, and said "Can you see a big strong tree because i'm so depressed i'm going to hang myself", although there were a few expletives mixed in.

As a footnote, he must have thought he'd found a friend because I was given the same 'treat' a few weeks later.

---------- Post added at 12:53 ---------- Previous post was at 12:46 ----------

As for another bankside encounter, and i've put this up several times, I was fishing a pond at Norton Nr. Malton, Brian Morlands Tench pond for those who remember, we'd fished through the night, and as it broke light I was aware of someone behind me, "Morning" says I, no response, "Looks like it's going to be a nice day", again no response, so I slowly turned round..............and it was only a scarecrow that someone had left against the fence.

 

[Mr Cholmondeley-Corker (PaSC)]

You know the type, wandering the banks engaging anyone with a willing ear. I have met many over the years, and on ''odd'' occasions the chat has been pleasant and constructive. Some of those characters could be best described as colourful , others, well least said the better. I recall one in particular that really shook and surprised me. I was fishing for Carp on a small club water, tucked well in beside a large bush floating a crust amongst a few free offerings. When a voice asked,''that's a Mk1V isn't it, I know the guy who designed it''. He then went on to describe his correspondence with **** Walker over many years, and their exchange of ideas. Except that in recent years their contact had been less and less. Up until this point I was thoroughly enjoying his recollections, but then the conversation went rapidly downhill, when he said, ''Have you considered what effect bread has on Carp''. In what respect I asked, ''Well, it results in them developing the Ague, and that inhibits growth. You should see what it does to Gun dogs, Walker doesn't seem to grasp it'', I was brought up to respect my elders, so I just nodded, but at the same time felt deeply saddened. Because by this time the penny had dropped, and I realised just who I was talking with. The guy had been a major force in angling for many years. Memorable, but for all the wrong reasons.

Was it Ron Clay?

 

[Titus]

Paul Boote?

 

[nicepix]

You are both to be banned for mentioning the names of banned members. I mentioned **** ********** once but I think I got away with it :wh

 

[dorsetandchub]

In the words of Elwood Blues, "We're puttin the banned back together, we're on a mission from God....."

 

[Bob Hornegold]

I once fished for two days with a friend of a friend who I found later was suffering from depression.

It took me from Durham to London to feel like going on !!

Never again ?

Bob

 

[peter crabtree]

Back in the 1980's I was fishing a small lake close to Pinewood studios.
At around midday I sensed activity behind me in the bushes along with a whiff of exotic perfume. Concentrating on my float, I felt slight pressure on my back which became more and more rythmical..
A kind of up and down action just below my shoulders...
The perfume became more intense and I felt an urgent need to adjust my .....

Back in a few minutes.....mg:

 

[binka]

Does anyone remember a hardback angling book author from the early eighties named Alan Edwards?

I could be wrong on the name but…

When I was about eleven I was fishing a local club pond and as always was reduced to spectator level, it wasn’t the easiest of places and to even see a fish was a result.

Anyway, I sat there on a summer’s afternoon and two blokes walked in through the open car park gates and approached me to ask if I had caught anything to which I just shook my head and at that precise moment a red eyed tench came waggling past right under my rod tip.

The nearest of the two blokes, who looked quite distinctive and was puffing on a pipe, turned to walk away and I heard him say to the other in a hushed voice…

“He hasn’t got a clue”!

Which I would say was about right.

The guy’s image stuck clearly in my head for that reason and the following Christmas I received a hardback fishing book from my Nan which was authored by the very same guy!

To this day I don’t know for 100% certain but I would wager that they were one and the same, especially as there was one picture in it where the author was landing a fish from “A Nottinghamshire gravel pit”.

It was around the same era as the Mike Pritchard books… Although I might be wrong about that name too

 

[barbelboi]

Back in the early 70’s a friend advised myself and a few others to fish ‘this rudd Mecca’ he had fallen upon at Farnham Royal in deepest Bucks. Credit where credit’s due we were banking fish of around the two pound plus mark from a very picturesque lake when two guys appeared from behind us and asked to see our permits. To cut a long story short they were members of the Thames Valley Police Force and this was one of their waters – we left.....

PS I’ve a far better one but not sure I should put it on an open forum...

 

[dorsetandchub]

Steve,


I think I remember Allen Edwards, he wrote for the Angling Times I'm pretty sure.

 

[no-one in particular]

I have told these before so here goes again-I went down the beach very early one morning, all to myself, not a sole ! in site. Lovely, and then I had the biggest Dover Sole I have ever seen. The size of a big meat plate, 2 inches thick and I tucked it away in my bag. Breakfast was going to be special.
Then this young teenager with his baseball cap on back to front ( my mate always used to say, baseball cap to the side, a quarter idiot, back to front, a complete idiot) appeared from nowhere and sat next to me and started gibbering away (where do they come from, it was 6am in the morning).
Whats in the bag mister, whats in the bag mister. So I showed him and it was covered in stones and sand. I will wash it in the sea for you mister. Well, anything to get rid of him for 5 mins so I agreed. Off he went, sat on the edge of the sea and and a big wave appeared from nowhere and washed over him, he dropped my prize fish , it bobbed up for a second 10 yards out and then it was gone. That was the last I saw of it.
He came gibbering back up the beach full of apologies. The odds were not in my favor after weighing up the options of drowning him and getting away with it, so I had to let him go. I still regret that decision today. Would have done the world a big favor.

---------- Post added at 07:32 ---------- Previous post was at 07:19 ----------

This one is nuts but, there you go-Some 6 months after my dad died I went fishing on my own down on the Hamp Avon. This was always our favorite river and I have many fond memories of fishing with the old chap there.
I was in a field and it was a chilly October day. Then I started getting this feeling that someone was standing behind me.. I looked round and no one, just a empty field with some farm houses in the distance. And I kept getting it and I kept looking round. After five minutes of this and the the hairs on my neck pricking up I started to get very agitated.. And then suddenly I had this warm glow sort of wash over me, I cannot explain it as I have never felt anything like it since. Just a very weird lovely feeling of warmth coming from inside. And all I can say Is I just thought of my Dad. Maybe he was trying to warm me up.
Load of ******** you might say, and you might be right however, it was very real to me.

The heaven and hell of encounters on the bank.

 

[flightliner]

Back in the eighties I was sat tench fishing on a lake just outside Worksop, it was really early, maybe four o-clock in the morning and I was the only person there. Then, up walks a police officer who asks what I'm doing. It wasnt Nicepix!!.

 

[binka]

Steve,


I think I remember Allen Edwards, he wrote for the Angling Times I'm pretty sure.

Thanks Phil.

I did a quick google based on your correct spelling but couldn't find anything other than a link back to FM and a thread from 2003 notifying that he had sadly passed away.

 

[Titus]

a thread from 2003 notifying that he had sadly passed away.

Sunday morning thought for the day.

I hope I never 'sadly' pass away.

Quietly or suddenly I could deal with and I think I have left it too late for 'tragically' or 'spectacularly'.

I suppose I could get eaten by a polar bear in the arctic which would be 'shocking' (and tragic for the bear who would probably die of toxic shock) or go missing during a fishing trip around Bermuda which would be 'mysterious' but please, don't let my passing be sad.....

 

[greenie62]

...I hope I never 'sadly' pass away...

Good point Ade,
It's one of the peculiarities caused by the English language use of adverbs - imagine if the notification message read that he had 'happily passed away' - that paints an entirely different picture of how people had perceived his contribution to life! mg:

 

[Merv Harrison]

Going off at a tangent again....

Our village pub was holding an after 'funeral' buffet, one of the mourners stood up to give a speech, and his opening gambit was..."We are all here to celebrate Bernards death.....", I don't think that that was quite what he meant.

 

[dorsetandchub]

Reminded me of something which happened many years ago now. Fishing the Severn at Ironbridge, the river was a bit low and I found a beautiful looking glide which I had to cross a "beach" of pebbles, stones and rocks to get to. Made a ton of noise crossing it.

Started catching well on the stick and running low on bait, i turned to get some more to find a wee Chinese lassie stood about two feet behind me. Hadn't heard a sound. I joked she was obviously from the well known Ironbridge Ninja Training School and we had a nice chat before she silently made her way back. Later, when I tried it sounded like a Chain Gang at full pelt. Fiendishly clever, those Orientals - and they do a darned fine Chow Mein as well!!

 

[flightliner]

Fiendishly clever, those Orientals - and they do a darned fine Chow Mein as well!! [/QUOTE]
Good American nosh is that.----honest:wh