Angler of no importance

I can relate to Dave,in has such,born in west London,moved around a lot,one place we moved to was Cookem,nr maidenhead,up to then never though about fishing,my dad brought two solid glass rods plus two crap centerpin reels,one each for me and my brother,for me that was it,catching pope, gudgen and small roach,downstream from the weir,i was hooked,my brother? no, but for the live of me i cannot understand why my old dad got us the gear in the first place,was it something he had wanted to do at sometime in his life,i dont think so,but whatever it was he did me a big favour,Thanks dad.

I can't really remember what made me take up fishing,but I did have one of those Woolworth rods and I did long to see Jack fishing on Out of Town,just the same as you,Dave.
Was it the pond in the fields over the road or was it the bike ride to Berwick Ponds,I don't know.
I do know, none of my family were ever fisherman,so I went with mates.
Michael Cuthbert comes to mind as being the most influential,but I used to get the train from Romford all the way to the Thames at Hampton Court with Colin Adams,so perhaps it was him.
Anyway,to whoever it was thanks,sorry we don't see each other anymore.
Fishing is for life and friends come and go,but plenty of new ones and experiences are always welcome along the way.

Absolutely wonderful read Davy, have you been spying on me over the years?(lol)

Can't wait for next months serving!

Regards Chris

Out of Town....I too was very disaointed when he didn't wet a line. That surely helped me along with my fishing too. If I was to hazard a guess at your age, I'd have to say around the 36-38 mark based on the rod and the programe?

I started angling by going with an uncle from Birmingham who came on holiday to North Norfolk every summer, he didn't stay with us but used our garden to dig lob worms as bait for eels from the salt marsh dykes at Salthouse. My first rod was hastily constructed by my cousin, an old broom handle as a butt with a long cane whipped to the end. The rings were fashioned out of garden wire and held in place with insulating tape, for the life of me I can't remember how the reel was constructed. I know it was bloody impossible to cast with and my uncle eventually lent me one of his old cane rods with brass ferrules. This I know started me fishing. Then I believe it was in the Beano or The Lion I saw an offer for a 6ft solid glass spinning rod a spinning reel (early fixed spool) and line and 3 spoons. I felt 'top dog' with that gear as did a friend, who like me used his hard saved pocket money to make the purchase. Then after a 12 mile round bike trip from Sheringham in North Norfolk to Selbrigg lakes every Saturday, rods strapped to the cross bar and all our tackle food and drink in a duffel bag. No parental guidance what so ever and we both learned the hard way. Our first floats were made of shaped corks, match sticks and lollipop sticks. Our joint purchase each week of I believe The Angling Times started pointing us in the right direction. Apart from a break whilst at University and in the first few married years I've fished ever since.
I don't know what it is about anglers but there seems to be a unifying bond an affinity. Most anglers I've bumped into and chatted to seem to be nice down to earth people. Very hard to describe but it seems a bit like an unwritten brotherhood.

My first rod was made of Bamboo cane, nicked from the green house with paper clips for rings and a cotton reel with a nail in it for a reel. I remember using black cotton a cork with a bent pin. Not very succesful but when your six you'll try anything. I remember 'Out of Town' very well, used to come home from school for lunch and was probally late back in the afternoon. I think i raved on about fishng for ages, none of my family were interested but we had a caravan at Billing Aquadrome so most weekends were spent there. I would disappear for hours on end, just wandering around the lake's and asking that old question, but I was fortunate in meeting one or two other young lads that were as keen as I was and probally had more correct gear than me. My 7th birthday was coming up and my lack of gear was noted by Grandparents, who fortunatly for me wandered up to the Billing Tackle shop one Saturday afternoon and consulted the 16 year old in charge and the fount of all angling knowledge. Shortly after that I became the proud owner of a 10ft Daiwa ledger rod and an Intrepid Boyo reel along with a plastic tray with two floats a packet of weights and some hooks to nylon.
I was now a proper fisherman but if had known the learning curve I was attempting at the time I doubt I would have carried on. Looking back, I remember an awful lot of trial and error, embarresing situations and down right idiotic plans and scheme's to get out of the house and time at the bank side. I recall being grounded for a week and my bike confiscated for riding all the way to Earls Barton on a Sunday morning and then being picked up by Police at 10pm that night riding home on the new dual carriage way with no lights.....Oh those memories..... my bum can still remember the sound thrashing I recieved.

I was given my first rod when i was about 5. It was about 4ft long, made from 1 of my grandads old rods, cut down to size. Had a bit of line tied to the end with a quill float and a hook. Theres some pictures of me with some very small bleak an gudgeon from back then. The first proper rod I remember was a 10ft shakespeare omni match (I think) caught me more fish than any of the rods ive owned since. Gave it away last year to a mate who wanted to start fishing, but told him if he packed it in or bought new I wanted it back.

Like Davy my farther never took me fishing, and I’ve never researched to see if there was any history of fishing in my family. I suppose my interest developed form catching minnows with a bent pin from the abandoned mill lodges and clough streams, remnants of Accrington’s industrial past. This also went hand in hand with birds nesting, den building and camping out. As a kid I heated school, all I wanted to do was play out and have adventures.
My theory is it’s in the blood, nature not nurture.

Richard, (THE LION)? your not a youngster then?

Thanks for the comments lads they are much appreciated.

I don't know about anyone else but when I write something at first I think hmm that's okay, but having read it through so many times and a few re-writes I'm not so sure. So I'm glad it's brought back those great memories of our first fishing adventures.I'll try to keep it up.

Stuart, you're not far off 39 to be exact

Feeling a bit old are we?

Hi old bagerbottombiter,not at all,but us old boys started fishing from a young age,crap tackle,basic baits, and lack of info,unlike today,im not saying that we are better anglers,but we have stayed the couse? and enjoyed it, were will you be in 20/30yrs time? golf?

Yeah afraid I'm not a youngster any more Les 48 this year, too soon this year.

I know what you mean Richard, 18yrs old one day, 53, the next, that big gap goes so qwick.

Skydiving. Simple

Yep I know what you mean Les!

I remember running home from the thames at Chertsey Bridge (about 2 miles) with a bleak clutched in my hand to show my mum. This was caught on a borrowed rod, I must have been about 9. no one in my family fished then,however about 2 years later my elder brother purchased a solid glass 6ft spinning rod and one of those horrible little clicking centre pins, never did find out why.
This was heaven to me as the river bourne ran through a field behind my house. My adventure with fishing began in earnest introducing me to roach,dace,chub, perch pope (snotties!),and gudgeon.
Many stories of bike rides, night fishing on the thames, (never did find out what the problem was between Chertsey and Staines boys?). Drifted away from the sport, football, girls normal things, even joined the army.
Arrived in Tidworth in Hampshire early seventies, Southern TV, married, Out of Town. My wife still blames him for restating my interest! Keep planning to revisit the river bourne, anyone fished it lately?

excellent article Dave, excellent memories, Jack was onme of my heros too, I have two of his books, Out of Town and Country Boy.

Things have changed, I'm, 51 going on 25, worjk out at the gym three times a week and still chase women (not that I catch many these days) still its all relative i suppose.

Angling I think is something which gets in the blood from an early age, for me I think, a significsant part of it is from childhood memories, calling at the local tackle shop on the way to school, 6 pences worth of maggots in a brown paper bag, kept sweating in my desk all day, until grotty maggie in the next desk reported me to the teacher

Bunking off school to poach one of the local mill lodges chasing gudeon and bullhead

bent pins and cane rods with elastic bands for eyes

even the smell of the locasl tackle shop, shiney new built cane rods, aniseed, linaseed nets, the magic of being sat on the canal bank behind the rubber factory while the rain came pooring down your neck, three kids sat on two baskets under a broken umbrella

you go through life, the usually marriages, divorces, kids, university, deaths, different jobs etc ect

the fishing however is always there! it changes but we still have it, we can still escape into it, we never loose it

Its for life!

It is life!

Sitting on a canal bank with rain running down your neck.
We used to make shelters from branches and binliners, bait was bread paste made by my mates grandad and worms. Our pocket money went on 10 gold leaf instead of maggots.
Rods were 5ft glass with plastic handles from woollies (remember them?) reels were those clicky ratchet jobs where you had to pull the line off and lay it on the floor before casting, floats were anything that would!!

Christmas 1976, presents were opened, Mam whispered to Dad "He still hasn't looked behind the curtain" (why would I?) A brand new hollow glass 11ft match rod and Intrepid deluxe reel loaded with proper line by the tackle dealer, which I thought would snap as soon as a fish looked at it.
Canal boxing day, yet another blank, and the day after, and the day after etc, but I kept going and always will.

Watching Jack in front of the electric fire in school shorts (remember them?) legs going red from sitting too close. No central heating then, only ready brek. Loved every minute of it.

Intrepid Delux Bob, you, ve been spoilt mate, we had Nottingham star backs and tank ariel`s and a tin bath in front o`t fire, big black half running off coal nicked from`t railway

Electric fire (what luxury)that must of cost a few farthins?