Irrespective of size, every now and again a fish comes along whose appearance is so pleasing to the eye that it hardly matters what size it is. Some of the carp I caught last summer had arrangements of iridescent scales on the wrist of the tail rivalling any Maori tattoo - like they were all part of the same finny tribe. There's a bombhole, close to a past haunt of mine, which is no longer than six feet, no wider than three, but quite deep. It contains a number of rudd of such a vivid orange hue that they wouldn't be out of place in a tropical fish tank. None are bigger than a few ounces, though the ones we caught and transferred to "our" pond grew bigger and yet more impressive.
WRT my own bests - many of which I'll freely admit were isolated captures - it's nice to get the results and hard to beat the excitement when a biggy goes on the scales, but it's not the be all and end all, I'm happy to say.
Of course, the fish have to be present at specimen size in order to be caught. To this day, the best fish I ever caught (as a spotty teenager) was from the pond mentioned earlier. The place was tiny - no more than 30 yards by 15, say, and I loved to catch the tricky crucians from there, fish no bigger than 8oz tops, until the magical day when I had one of 1-12, a veritable denizen, shining in its golden mail coat. Even better, I had witnesses, and we crowded round, agog with wonder at the glittering prize. In all honesty, I can't think of a catch that gave me greater pleasure.
