From the water’s edge

September 2015 - Losing it

With Pete safely packed off on yet another holiday, Terry and I could make the most of it. We had all day to really show what could be done if we weren’t held back and I had just the spot lined up. Last week’s glorious fish was not likely to be a loner after all. It must have at least one or two mates of a similar ilk. All I would need to re-write the record books would be 1) My pole - check. 2) my landing net - check. 3) my lures - check and 4) my line - check everywhere, look under the car, look on the roof, blame Pete. No waistcoat, means no line, means no scissors, clips, scales, enthusiasm or brain. Left the bloody thing at home in the office, but did remember my lures which are always in the pockets, but this time weren’t.

I have excuses. I’m overworked and tired, I have toothache and haven’t been sleeping well. But the one that Terry likes best is that I am thick as two short planks. Whatever the reason, I would need to nick some braid off his reel, some fluoro off his spare spool and to not catch any fish over two pounds and certainly not over three lest I should suffer the eternal misery of never being sure whether it was my tenth three pounder or not. Safe on all counts.

Pete had left me some new Fox lures to try, so I stuck one on and started with that. I soon had a fish on it. Not soon enough, Terry had already caught about four. Worst of all, he was using a r*d and r**l, and didn’t I warn you that I would go to pieces if I got thrashed by somebody fishing like that when I couldn’t reach the fish? I soon had another, a new species for me on a lure. Bigger than the perch I’d just caught and even uglier than Pete. It clamped its claw round my little finger and chewed up my fluoro, all the time waving me into combat like Morpheus teaching Neo how to fight. I’m glad that perch eat them.

I guess it wasn’t a classic sort of day really. There were still a lot of boats, and the fish were playing hard to get, but then we were pleasantly surprised to finish just shy of three dozen between us. The rod outfished the pole 3 to 2 and terry had the two best fish, both around the pound mark, so we really shouldn’t be so ungrateful. It was noticeable that casting and retrieving with the rod was easily the most successful method while the canal was clear and the boats were still dozing at their moorings. Once those old diesels fired up and starting ploughing the mud though the pole became more effective, right up until the point where there was just too much activity when it died completely. Food for thought there. As soon as I got home I wrote out a nice big check list to make sure that I don’t leave anything behind in future, but I’ve already sort of lost it. I know where it is, it’s with my car keys.


I hope that you find my journal interesting and entertaining. If, having read this, you think that I am talking rubbish then at least you have stopped and thought about it long enough to come to that conclusion which is something of a result in my book. If you would like to comment on this article or anything else relating to my website, please feel free to contact me using the adjacent form. Feedback is always greatly appreciated and very helpful when it comes to improving both my site and my angling. Thank you for looking. If this form will not work for you, please e-mail me at

artificial lite



journal 2015.


journal 2015.