“I’d do anything for love… but I wouldn’t do that.” Perhaps Meat Loaf really was an angler? Perhaps he was really asking how far you would go for the fish of your dreams? What wouldn’t YOU do in order to catch it? Example. It is true my piking pals and I went fishing on Storm Eunice Day, 18th February. We did that because historically we have found pike often go wild in major storms. A plummeting barometer and a spiralling wind can combine to produce shattering sessions that you do well not to miss. But should you risk a Red Weather Warning for a fish, however big?
Well, at 7.00am that day, as we debated the subject the winds in the east were moderate. The Met Office forecast that the worst of the winds would be over by 5.00pm when we would want to return home. That was travelling taken care of. By the lake, we knew it would be quite possible to keep clear of trees and other hazards, so we decided to go for it and we came to no harm. We caught fish too, good ones, in some numbers. Perhaps if Eunice had arrived in October when the trees would have been in full leaf, we might have reconsidered but seven, reasonably bright adults reckoned, in this case, the risks were justifiable.
There are so many variables in all this. How important is a fish to you? If fishing is central to your life, then you are bound to take more risks, albeit calculated ones. The fish in question surely help your decision-making? We would not have gone out in Eunice to a water full of jack pike, I can assure you. Age plays a part. Health. Your levels of positivity. Your innate senses of caution. Simply, the type of person you are.
Stupidity plays a part. In 1992, I “skippered” a four-man fishing boat on Loch Arkaig in the midst of a severe Highland storm. There were six of us on board. The boat leaked a little. The engine was dodgy. We had only one oar and no rowlocks. We weren’t wearing life jackets. We were completely, irresponsibly barmy, and could have died. I look back on the incident with nothing but shame, the fact we caught a decent ferox trout notwithstanding.
Ill fortune plays a part. In 2004, I fished in Mongolia and nearly got killed, along with Mongolian camp staff, by marauding Siberian gangsters. In that same country, in 1998, the plane I was travelling in crashed. Again, bad luck… but in both cases outweighed by the good luck of survival. I could give another score of similar close shaves, but you get the gist of it all.
I do wonder, with all due respect, if we are becoming ever more cautious as a nation. Health and Safety. Risk assessment. Accident investigation. The Covid ramifications. Increasing concerns for child safety. The media constantly peddles the list of possible hazards to a degree I am sure it did not do when I was a child. In this country, though not everywhere they would say in Afghanistan, we lead cosseted lives wherein any whiff of risk is eschewed. This might not be a bad thing, and I do not make light of the desire to be safe. I value my life highly. But I do want to live it to its fullest and taste every adventure it sends my way…
