He is also a very keen angler, having come back to the sport in 1995 following a break of several years. In this regular column he will tell us about his progress as an angler – his thoughts about the sport, what he learns, the fishing trips he makes, the anguish, the humour, in fact everything he experiences as his angling career develops. | |||||
BACK ON THE TRENT – AFTER THIRTY YEARS! I’m sure you’re familiar with the term ‘Big Five’ in relation to African wildlife. Although there is some debate as to which animals should be included, generally it is the following that make the list: buffalo, elephant, leopard, lion and rhinoceros. Actually, I’ve been very privileged to have seen all those animals, and not just at Dudley Zoo either, but in their natural environment in the African bush.
The big three But returning home and thinking of angling, what about the ‘Big Three’? I’m referring, of course, to the three main English rivers: The Severn, The Trent and The Thames. I fished each of these rivers while still in primary school, the Severn, as it was quite close to where I grew up, was visited many times during my early years. The other two rivers I only fished once each though. I was a junior member of a match angling club and recall fishing a contest on each of the aforementioned rivers. It was a long time ago, and my memories are a little hazy, but I do recall certain things. I remember the visit to the Thames being on a hot sunny day and it being my first exposure to boat traffic on a river. I also recollect the other club members moaning a lot, I can’t recall what about, but in all honesty they were always grumbling and complaining about something anyway. Perhaps that’s why the club folded in the end? Back to the Trent The visit to the Trent, again, was made on a hot sunny day. I remember a nature reserve behind the river with a gravel pit. I think the place was called Sawley, but then again it was a long time ago, so I’m relying totally on memory.
Deciding to visit the upper Trent one Friday afternoon in mid-September, I set off to track down a new venue. I use the words ‘track down’ very carefully, because sometimes maps produced by angling clubs are not always very accurate. In fact experience has shown me that I have got more chance of success in spotting the ‘Big Five’ on Wimbledon Common than in locating venues in certain club’s handbooks! Anyway, I did manage to locate this particular stretch of river. I was impressed and took to it straight away. Maybe the phrase ‘love at first sight’ is a bit strong, but I felt that a very productive partnership was in the making. The first thing I did was to walk the river, which is invaluable as it gives you a very good picture of what the stretch is like. A combination of low water and bright sun meant that I very quickly had an accurate knowledge of what lay beneath the surface. Like much of the upper Trent, there are long stretches of water running through at a fast pace, but there was also the odd bend that looked enticing. And it was on a bend that I decided to fish. A wide and deep curvature that slowed the river down, combined with the overhanging willows, meant that I had found an area that will be my target whenever I fish this stretch over the remainder of the season.
I started off fishing for perch and although it wasn’t fast and furious fishing, I did get a bite every cast. Nothing over a pound, but very enjoyable indeed. The size of fish that predator anglers would describe as ‘pike sized’! So although the afternoon fishing wasn’t exactly going to set the specialist world alight, I was really enjoying it, and that’s what really counts. Close encounter of the ungrateful kind But I did have a bizarre encounter with a couple of Hungarian tourists. The stretch I fished is very remote and not the sort of place where you expect to bump into that many folks. So when I saw two middle-aged people struggling across the fields with bags, I instantly thought it looked a bit strange. They were hopelessly lost as it turned out! They had a map where they needed to go, so doing my Good Samaritan act I agreed to give them a lift in the car.
Following on from my recent encounter with a Latvian farm worker, I wonder what is on the agenda next, as I seem to be on a run of meeting Eastern Europeans. Maybe I will meet Anna Kournikova and she will ask me to marry her? Well, maybe not! Anyway, knowing my luck, a future article is most likely to be titled something like ‘My encounter with a female Russian shot putter on the Severn’ or ‘The day I met a Bulgarian death squad on the Dove’. Slugged a chublet Anyway, back to the fishing! The plan was working so far with lots of perch showing and as darkness descended I changed gear to target chub. I had lots of bites fishing with bread but unfortunately none of them were translated into fish. I did however, find a slug crawling over my flask and, hooking it, trundled it through some fast water. A bite that would do credit to a big Dove barbel saw a chub of no more than a pound make the landing net!
Next week it seems that Pilgrim’s Progress is all about mammals instead of fish! However, this is a fishing site after all, so I did rectify the situation in the end. Join with me next Thursday when I tell you all about ‘BATS, BADGERS AND COWS – AND SOME FISH THROWN IN FOR GOOD MEASURE!’ The Reverend Stewart R Bloor Pilgrim’s Progress – read it every Thursday! |
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