Bank side Dramas

Following on from the 'Almost a Tragedy' how many of us have put ourselves in sometimes dangerous positions in order to catch a fish, I know I have.
I have climb trees for a better view, cut my way through thorn bushes and brambles. Fallen into beds of nettles and into rivers. Gone out in really bad weather fished in snowstorms. As I tend to rivers on my own I could be miles from anywhere if an accident were to happen.
I always carry a first aid kit, hand gel and wet wipes and have had to use it for cuts and bruises.

My nearest miss was a couple of years ago when fishing on my own and I suddenly didn’t feel at all well. I manage to make it back to the car and drove home. The next few hours were a bit of a blur apart from finding myself in hospital on a drip having passed out at home. It seems that I had pick up a bug from fish or the bait. A few hours earlier and I would have collapsed on the bank with no one to help me.
I now always let people know where I am going and the reason I now always carry hand gel and use it before eating.

It was the one reason I first bought a mobile phone many years ago. I often fished miles from anywhere on remote marsh waters and thought if ever I break my leg or anything I am knackered. A mobile is is a must for me when venturing far afield; always make sure I have it with me now..
Only real mishap was once jumping across a ditch but missing the bank the other side, it was a deep "ravine" about 6 ft, apart from a wellie full of water nothing broken but its the sort of thing where I could have and it was miles from human habitation. A mobile would have saved the day if it had been the case.

Very sensible advice! I am sure we have have often found ourselves entirely alone at a lake or pond in the middle of nowhere and if you collapsed and failed to make it home how on earth does your wife find you! Some of the waters I can fish i ignore because in my opinion they are too isolated! Often there is no or a poor phone signal.

I always tell her where i am going just in case, provided it is fishing related of course!

I take no risks whatsoever, things are dangerous enough as they are in my world!

I have been cut off by rising water on two occasions over the last few years, fortunately to no worse consequence than wet gonads and I've had to dive head first, laden with tackle, over a field gate due to a bull being that close I could just about feel his breath on the back of my neck. Fortunately that was back in a day when I had a turn of speed to be able to do it but I wouldn't fancy my chances now.

I'm sure more will spring to mind the more I think about it, the incidents that aren't too bad for my memory to permanently block out mg: mg: mg:

I've had a few accidents whilst fishing... I once hooked a barbel whilst stood mid river and while playing the fish I took a step back and sunk straight down until my feet hit the river bed and I pushed myself straight back up, the water being only a few inches over my head it wasn't too bad but with it being a surprise dunking I did swallow a gob full of water which doesn't sound so bad if you didn't know there was a sewage outlet just up river! Anyhow I had kept my arm which held my rod outstretched all the time as I sunk (sort of like the the statue of liberty) and once back on solid ground I landed the fish. Luckily it was a really warm summers day and the river was low and was so warm it felt like bath water. I went back to the bank, lay down and lifted my legs up to drain my thigh waders, removed my t shirt and rung it out leaving it to dry in the sun. I thought i'd just continue to fish in my under-kecks and socks but there was no way I could walk into the river without footwear as the rocks were too much for my feet so I had to wear my wet thigh waders....I felt like a queer out of the village people and it was embarrassing having to check peoples club memberships in that attire!

Another slightly more alarming trick was sliding down a large icy flood defence bank into what is for the biggest part a small river/stream that was now a raging upward moving river due to the incoming tide, the worst part was getting back out with there being such a strong current and nothing on the icy bank to get a hold of. I had to dig my fingers into the bank and have a quick think about the situation before getting out.
Regarding the use of mobile blowers, it seems that many of the stretches of river I fish there is no reception.
For what it's worth, I think there's far less chance of having a serious accident out in the fields etc than there is walking down the pavement in everyday life!

As well as fishing the local pond - all 4 or 5 acres of it - we'd use the surrounding area as some kind of adventure playground. It froze over, one particularly cold winter, perhaps 1978, and after testing the ice "thoroughly" by heaving big boulders onto it the bravest souls (or most foolish) ventured out. Once it became obvious that it would easily support a teenager it was a free-for-all, with maybe a dozen kids at a time taking to the ice.

What no-one had considered was the skeletal dead trees in the middle of what was essentially a flooded valley, which created a weaker, more unstable area. Seven or eight 'skaters' arrived there together, with particularly good comedy timing. All was well for several seconds, before the first tell-tale creaks started and fault lines began to stretch away from us in all directions. You could see the truth dawn on every face at once and kids split every which way back to safety. It was quite an exhilaration, but could have ended very badly.

Like Steve I got chased by a bull when I was fortunately much younger and just got over the gate in time. Now I would have to try my bull whisperer routine I always carry my mobile phone now and in winter will not fish any swim that was recently covered with flood water and is slippery. Also I avoid swims with a steep slope. Fortunately where I fish there are some low risk swims, albeit with float grabbing trees

from the FUNNY FISHING FAIL tread,... when i were but a lad if 14, i managed to fall of the bridge in the pic, its about 15foot to the water, sat on the wall both legs over the water and managed to tip in while playing a 16lb salmon, i held on to the rod and got to the island under arch 2 from the left, and landed my fish i was sitting over the 4th arch from the left before i went in the drink( pic is of my my home village of obriens bridge, co clare),, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/O'Br...er_Shannon.jpg

countless other mishaps, car sunk in soft ground, lost in the middle of nowhere, trapped as water came up , drove into fields when dry rain happened, stranded, as binka would say, how long you gotmg:

Oh goodness, I have been in some sticky situations whilst fishing, usually through taking silly risks. Its not something to be proud of I know.

One occasion that springs to mind which really was bad at the time was a hot summer day driving to a very remote section of river in France miles down a tiny bumpy track. I found a lovely little spot and decided to do the night with the car parked right next to me , ideal really. However as dusk set in ominous clouds started to gather on the horizon. As it got dark it started to rain but I thought it would pass – it didn’t and it turned into a full blown storm, rain and wind lashing down. I sat tight under the brolly but after a while I noticed the river was rising rapidly and it dawned on me the car was parked right next to me on the waters edge, I ran out of the brolly jumped into the car and attempted to move it -too late- …it was totally wheel spinning in the mud. I was now in a real pickle to put it mildly.
This was long before mobile phones and I was miles from anywhere I could walk to so I literally had no option, I had to try and free the car myself. I got my fishing knife and started to hack off branches and tried to force them them under the wheels to get some purchase but the problem was just getting worse and worse and the storm continued to lash it down and the river was still rising all the time and was getting seriously high in the bank.
I don’t know how long I worked at trying to free it, it was probably a couple of hours trying everything I could to get the car free. It was pitch black, storm roaring round me, I was totally soaked from head to foot, covered in mud, cut to bits from all the branches and vegetation but I kept telling myself the only option was to free the car.
Eventually I moved it –just- I think it was after 1am in the morning as it slithered free. You can imagine the state I was in and I then had to spend another age trying to inch it back along the tiny bumpy track which was now a quagmire to the proper road, the car slipping a sliding on the rivers edge. It was a total nightmare I can tell you.
I do wonder if even with a mobile phone I doubt a tow truck could have got to me.

I was totally stupid & naive but I was younger back then & you live and learn.

Some of my most dangerous moments came courtesy of a pub-club and their Sunday matches. The pegging was sadistic. On the Wye at Belmont, I arrived at my peg to find an eight feet mud slide and a narrow mud ledge at water level. With nowhere else to fish from, I gingerly installed myself on the mud ledge, which promptly disintegrated and left me sinking to join the shoals of roach in 10 feet of water. The difference being, they could swim and they weren't wearing waders and winter clothing. I scrabbled my way back out like a cartoon character, shaking like a man who has just cheated death and complained to the match secretary, who kindly offered me the option to fish a spare peg but not weigh in! On a canal match at Henhull on the Shropshire Union with the same club I found my peg was directly under low power lines. I asked to move to the peg next to the end peg, won the match, and heard muttering that “ he only won because he picked his own peg”. I left the club before they succeeded in killing me.

One worth mentioning although it must be rare, if you use gloves give them a good wash now and then after fishing. I knew a bloke who got a hook in his hand that had gone through some dirty woolen gloves first. His hand got poisoned and swelled up like a melon- literally. Last time I saw him he thought he might have to have his hand amputated, I never saw him again so I don't know the eventual outcome but just be careful with these things.

I've had three(that I can remember),the first was on arrival on my annual families summer break to Christchurch Dorset,after unpacking,getting lunch in a local hostelry,we got back to our caravan/holiday home and I got my gear together and dashed off with mega enthusiasm along the banks of the Stour,now Neil Maidement will know exactly where this happened,after the boulder weir at the start of the tidal the path along the bank narrows due to a fence next to a green on the golf course,anyway when nearing the end of the fence an elderly couple came the other way,after a little banter and me moving aside to allow their passage I turned and set off again,putting my right foot into a foot width rut,I went down like a very large sack of spuds,tackle on top of me and in agony,just laying there as I couldn't put any weight at all on it,eventually I managed to stand(painfully)and dropped my tackle into the adjacent swim on the shallows(not my intended),and quickly sat down and undid my trainers,I rang my wife and she and my two sons walked down,she had to cut my trainer off as my foot had swollen so much and they helped get the gear back,after 4hours in a&e i'd badly sprained my ankle and had to lay around for three days,doh.

The second was on the Thames below Culham on the first weekend of the season,I had to bash my way through the undergrowth to reach my chosen swim half a mile downstream,about halfway down I put my heel in an unseen hole and tore ligaments,that was before mobiles,so I struggled back to my mate(2 hours)and he got our tackle back and got me back home for another spell in a&e.


The third was in March this year whilst trotting for chub on the Ivel,i'd just hooked my first modest chub,which upon nearing the net made a lunge for nearside flattened rushes,it went in and came out my side and I couldn't get him back,so netted him there and pulled for a break,unhooked him and returned him,finding that my gear was still stuck I got my weedcutter out and put it on my landing net pole,I retrieved my float so then slid my pole back to get the blade off,well the pole was dry up until the last two feet,but when it got there the lubricated section allowed an easy slip,straight into my finger,to the bone,it really hurt and worst of all it wouldn't stop bleeding for over an hour,I had a claret towel,I was unsure what to do when a couple I knew who walked their dog came down,they went away and came back a short while later with a wad of plasters,some surgical spirit and cotton wool,a lovely couple...

So Binka,you haven't got the sole rights on clumsiness...

whitty said:

So Binka,you haven't got the sole rights on clumsiness...

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I'm beginning to think we may be distant relatives

I have done some daft things in attempts to catch fish probably the daftest was driving over the wide top of a small weir in the dark with no lights on (didn't want to spook the fish ) I was half way over with water lapping up the side of my car and tyres sliding on silkweed before I realised that my car wasn't as suitable as the tractor I had seen doing it days before for the crossing.

I too have a franchise in clumsiness but thankfully so far little danger just embarrassment! Having encountered storms in SE France I can vouch for their ferocity; I now avoid underground car parks and narrow mountain roads

Falling into a snow covered ditch at St Neots, chased by a bull at South Stoke on the Thames, ditto by a herd of cows (with calves) only to be repeated a couple of years ago-we never learn!) and pulling an elderly fishing pal from a Marlow gravel pit, who had decided he needed to straighten his keep net in the water and ended up sliding toward deep water on the sandy bottom. Only a landing net handle - him on one end and me on the other - averted a disaster.

Fishing an all-nighter in continuous torrential rain and in the morning finding the car half way up the wheels in muddy water. Caught some nice tench but very expensive to get the car towed out, and in many ways lucky the tow people took on the job.

I suppose one of the funniest situations was on a Barnet AS gravel pit where I had eased down a steepish bank prior to the rain starting only to find it impossible to do the return journey. How many times I got half way up the slope only to slid down again.......In the end a fellow angler (who had more sense!) helped drag the gear up the slope, followed by me. In hindsight I could easily have been there all night.................

The list goes on and on....

binka said:

I'm beginning to think we may be distant relatives

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This has happened over 48 years of angling week in week out,accidents happen to all,i've yet to fall on a rod...but given time i'm sure I will give it a go...Also I don't break glass flasks.

Fishing alone on a club water - a big rectangular emergency reservoir belonging to the industrial site where I worked - on a lovely summer's morning, and having been there since sparrow's fart, it was time to break for a snack. Groped in the greasy bag for the last Cornish pasty, I managed to fumble it and it dropped at my feet. Bending over to retrieve it, my fibreglass seat box tipped over and I ended up in the drink up to my neck. My lizard brain must have taken over proceedings, since by some miracle I ended up facing the bank, desperately trying to shove my toenails through my wellies to gain some traction on the slippery slope. The steeply-shelving concrete sides of the reservoir went from nothing to twelve feet in a yard or so, making it a truly terrifying situation; worse still, the edge was just out of reach. The landing net head was hanging over the edge to one side, though, just a tantalising couple of inches away. Carefully shuffling by millimetres at a time, it came into reach. After several minutes of careful manoeuvring I had it reversed and snagged in the bankside briars and luckily it was a telescopic handle, so there was now the necessary traction to pull myself out. Never been more grateful.

I sat dripping in the sun, watching my pasty float away...mg:

A brilliant tale that Rob.

whitty said:

A brilliant tale that Rob.

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I'll never forget the sensation of having just the tips of my boots in contact with the reservoir wall on the very edge of adhesion and moving forward by millimetres, propelled only by tiny movements of the ankles. I didn't dare move anything else.