The Alternative Angler – Lord Paul’s Pools

Never mind smelling the flowers, don’t forget to take time out to see the satirical side of fishing life and grab a laugh along the way as well. So here’s a regular column from Kevin Perkins to remind us that life is for laughing at, or taking the p*** out of, whenever we can.

Lord Paul’s Pools

Whilst there will always be a positive delineation between coarse and game fishing, every so often, one or other of the coarse species supporters struggle to break free from the herd and establish themselves, and their quarry, as just a bit more upmarket than the others. Although barbel are the current flavour of the month, until the likes of Hardy, Orvis and Sage start producing tackle for that species, barbel and by association, barbel anglers, will never be elevated to the fishing peerage.

FM’s very own toff, Lord Paul of Sheffield

No matter though, as long as there are deluded aspirants to be fleeced, who better than FM’s very own toff, Lord Paul of Sheffield, to seize the moment. His stately pile, Furkham Hall has been fitted out to offer upmarket weekends to barbel anglers in order to give them an insight into the type of sporting life they think they should be living.

The grounds at Furkham Hall have been transformed. A wide channel has been dug from the swimming pool on the sun terrace down to the estate lake, and a series of fast glides, pools and weirs have been incorporated, to provide a perfect habitat for the stocking of barbel. Teams of migrant workers operate round the clock shifts on the treadmill ensuring the water is constantly circulated round the system.

Security has been stepped up, as the migrant workers have been known to take their clothes off and bash them against the newly introduced boulders at the sides of the streams. Lord Paul was kind enough to allow this ancient peasant ritual to continue, but only on the strict understanding that there were no anglers on that stretch, that he was personally in attendance, and it was only the female workers that were doing their washing at the time.

Fish of various weights have been introduced into these swims, and each pool is treated as a separate syndicate for the duration of the weekend, which is just what barbel anglers expect. The price you are prepared to pay for the weekend determines which syndicate you are allowed to join, and also your position at the dinner table in relationship to Lord Paul himself, and whether of not you are invited to the billiard room after dinner to partake in brandy and cigars.

How to conduct oneself in polite society

As well as the chance to enjoy some of the finest barbel fishing in the country, the weekend experience takes in education on matters of decorum, deportment and how to conduct oneself in polite society; a kind of finishing school for anglers, if you like. On arrival at the Hall, you will be shown to your room and asked to change into the fishing apparel provided. In order that barbel anglers are afforded the respect due to them by other coarse fishers, a new, instantly recognisable personal element protection system has been developed, based on a cagoule, but called Barboules.

The lightweight, breathable outer garments are produced in brand new ‘Leaf Mould’ pattern, and are impregnated with essence of halibut, so even if you can’t see that you are in the presence of a barbel angler, your olfactory senses will alert you to be ready to genuflect at a moment’s notice, which is the mark of deference expected to be shown by ordinary coarse fishermen. Bending of the knee and hat doffing at these meetings wouldn’t go amiss, either.

Once escorted to your syndicate pool by your ghillie for the day, you will cast out once, then sit doing nothing for the rest of the day, only taking a break from your exertions for luncheon, which will include such delicacies as game pie and elderflower cordial. As the sun dips below the battlements on the East wing, pre-prandial drinks will be served, before guests are called in for dinner. Not strangely named cocktails, but the Estate’s own, highly regarded, late-bottled sloe gin.

Pressed between firm breasts

Each berry is hand selected before being pressed between the firm breasts of an under stairs maid to extract the juice. Once added to Tanqueray’s finest London Dry, the resultant concoction is left to mature, sometimes for weeks. This drink is not so much sought after for its flavour, which can only be described as ‘interesting’ but for the label, which depicts the juice extraction processes, and is therefore highly prized by connoisseurs of this type of thing.

During dinner a footman will be positioned behind each guest in order to indicate to them which particular pieces of cutlery should be correctly used during each course of the meal, and given that we are talking about barbel anglers, the footmen will naturally count every piece of silverware afterwards.

Passing the port in time-honoured Furkham Hall tradition

After dinner, Lord Paul will show the guests the ancient ritual of passing the port, although in time-honoured Furkham Hall tradition, the port will not pass any further than Lord Paul himself, and until his Lordship passes out and slumps forward, head first into the Stilton, that doesn’t go anywhere, either.

Prices for this piscatorial and epicurean delight will not be announced, on the basis that if you have to ask, you can’t afford it. There is a waiting list, which can of course be circumvented by a very large tax-free, untraceable, emolument, or a regular supply of dusky handmaidens of which Furkham Hall seems to have an endless need, to be personally vetted by his Lordship. His interest in their development including hands on, intensive one-on-one training is of the type they would just not get anywhere else.