The social pike

I hadn't been fishing for weeks and weeks. You know how it goes....stuff comes up from all angles and it just doesn't happen. The date had been in the diary for weeks. It was never going to move as it is one of the most eagerly awaited trips of the fishing season - The Christmas Pike Social.

I fish with my pal Jim regularly, but this trip involves another good friend who I sadly only seem to see on this festive social trip and we enjoy the day from the minute we start planning where, what food, what libations and then it stumbles to tactics and weather until the day finally arrives and we greet each other like excited schoolboys.

The Dorset Stour is always our venue of choice and we were lucky after some recent lumpy weather that the river was just fishable for our day. Colour had only just dropped out and the level was down by quite a few feet. We exchange small gifts before we start and then the most social of days begins.

It's not just about the pike. I am pretty sure we three have fishing as an excuse for actually just being there in the landscape, in nature, breathing it, smelling it and seeing it. Each year this trip provides us with pleasure for what we see - otters, egrets, lapwing, water rail, kingfishers galore, sparrow hawk and an amazing rook display at dusk. 

Even though an otter had obviously taken a liking to my pike at some stage during its life I still do get a feeling of complete excitement when I see one on my fishing trips. 

The wind was biting. One of those squally windy days which Simon said "send kids and cats loopy" - it was cold too. They generally are from the east. We would be fine though as the social provides - Kelly Kettle tea, pork pie, mince pies, stollen, whisky and pickled onions.

The fishing was hard as it can be on such days, but the river did grant us a wish to see a fish or two and bring some Christmas cheer. We three, kings of the river for a day reflected on what had been a special day as we trudged across the fields to the twinkling festive lights of the village and home to warm fires and liquid cheer....

Buried Treasure from a lost tackle shop

Make your own tackle?

Newnes Practical Mechanics, September 1954 - Home-Made Fishing Tackle

The finest Christmas book of them all...

Fishing with Mr Cherry and Jim....and Tim

Country Fair - October

Country Fair - September

We are nearly through September, but this was just too pleasant to miss..... 

Country Fair - September 1956

The lure of the lucky float

I am a person and also a fisherman who believes in superstition and the good luck associated with items, happenings and likings. None more so than the major tool of my past time which is the humble float.

The same old floats come out. Each one loved, fondled and admired over the years and hopefully the years to come - there is the one given to me by Mr Crabtree (Bernard Venables) which is a lovely worn porcupine quill. I am now so scared to use this float that it remains in my float tube as I nearly lost it once. I feel its power rubbing off on my other lucky floats - some hand made by friends, some once owned by dear friends and others gifts from friends. Each one has its own story which sticks to it like groundbait or pond slime.

The last few trips to fish my favourite ancient crucian pond have seen me use a different float on each occasion. Each one a lucky float or one I have taken a liking to along my fisherman travels. There was the small balsa float someone brought into the office along with some of the tiniest porcupine quills I have ever seen - "would you like them?", "oh, yes please, they will be loved and looked after and more importantly they will kiss the water again"...........sometimes lucky floats just find you.

Then there are the gifts from friends which are the best of all - these delightful crucian floats are so delicate they detect the gentle nibblings of dainty feeding crucians. As the writer Arthur Sharp put it in his wonderful book - pleasing in appearance and even more pleasing in disappearance. I can say no better than that.

The Legend of Redmire Pool

Something made me reach for that magnificent book Redmire Pool by Clifford & Arbery (Beekay, 1984) last night. The wind was howling and the rain was smashing against the windows….that period just before you head for bed when a read puts you at rest. I had forgotten that the following day, today, marks the wonderful anniversary when Richard Stuart Walker (Dick Walker, Water Rail, The Master) caught the then record carp (Clarissa) at 44lbs from the legendary Redmire Pool in Herefordshire. The fish was caught around 5am on 13^th September 1952. It’s a wonderful story, full of drama as the best stories always are.

I was obsessed with Redmire Pool as a schoolboy, we all were. Where was it? Did it exist? Who fished there? Walkers record was bettered by Chris Yates with a fish of 51lb 8oz in June 1980 – I still have my copy of Angling magazine that my friends and I poured over at school. We couldn’t believe it, that such a fish existed. The story and accompanying photographs blew our 12 year old minds away. Who was this upstart to beat Dicks record? If any of us caught a decent fish the cry would go up, even in the 80’s, “who do you think you are, Dick Walker” – happy days.

Needless to say, Dick Walker, ever the gentleman, was absolutely ecstatic that Chris caught the fish and later we would pour over the excellent articles by CY in the same magazine.

The story brought back many happy memories for me as well – for I last fished the pool around 2002 and virtually all of my twelve or so trips to fish there were with my much missed friend Pete. We fished a bizarre trip during the even stranger “Diedrich” period (1988 I think) when so many obsessives like us were ripped off and never ever got to fish the pool. We paid, heard nothing and just went. For we, by now, did know exactly where the pool was thanks to the book which had been published a few years earlier. I think Petes parents had actually walked near to the pool or knew a neighbouring farmer who also confirmed its location. The pool obviously hadn’t been fished for weeks, possibly months and it rained. It rained hard and the reason Redmire is named so became obvious – it was like fishing in a bowl of tomato soup. The original bailiff, an elderly Dave Bufton (who lived in a farm cottage on the estate), came down and was amazed to see us. He hadn’t seen anyone since the beginning of the season.  He watched me fishing for carp that were feeding by the dam and uttered the words “thems artful fuckers ‘en um” – he was quite right. My friend Pete then became the bailiff himself at Redmire – he loved it, I loved it too as I got to go with him many times just to take in the air, talk fishing and then go for a pint on our way home. We met some incredible characters and sometimes, actually quite often, we would visit the pool and have the whole place to ourselves. It was magical. I’m sure some of that magic still exists, but for me a lot of it has gone, along with my memories and my friend.  

So, for a period last night, I was transported to Redmire Pool. I was following Walker, him of the magic hat, in real time. I read as he travelled in pouring rain, arrived and set up at the pool and went to bed in the knowledge that both he and his friend Peter Thomas were waiting for the day to break and the hope of catching one of the Redmire monsters….I woke up this morning happy that they had succeeded.

A Shell Eye on England

John Leigh-Pemberton 1958

John Leigh-Pemberton 1958

Trees be company

The Dorset magician wordsmith William Barnes was right - his poem of the same title is well worth a read before you proceed.

It never ceases to amaze me how such items of ephemera survive in this modern world of instant, throw it away and want it now. I am glad it does survive - these items, mere trifles, were saved from the rubbish bin. I have a vague recollection of playing the card game as a child - the pack is dated 1975 with artwork by Althea Braithwaite. Done at a time when the National Trust actually printed good guides / ephemera (Rena Gardiner) and didn't rip you off for a pot of tea and a slice of cake like they do now. 

The Tree Card Game has the most delightful box - so imaginative, with every bit of available space illustrated with leaves, berries and birds.

The booklets are Nature Conservancy Council (1978) and Forestry Commission (1973) and are full of interesting facts and advice......from a gentler time. A time I think some of us really crave these days?

Country Fair - June

Country Fair - June 1960

The path west...

To get my fix and have the all round feeling of being alive I have been setting out early. I leave between 04:00 and 04:30 - I have been up and off, treading the route which gives me not only the feeling of great accomplishment when I return to a still sleeping house, but keeps me in everyones good books. With a young family my indulgence has no impact on anyone. Only me.

My route is a familiar one - I have no specific location to head for but it usually is to one of two places. The dark and sunken lanes to the west or the ridge to the east. Both are as good as each other and offer a different vista so I just go where my boots take me.

I do prefer the route westwards. The birdsong is louder here and in the deep lanes, made famous by Geoffrey Household in his superb book Rogue Male, it's easy for my mind to wander. All my best plans and lists are made in these early dawn moments and usually they are coupled by some of my most memorable wildlife spots. It's that moment at the edge of night and day when nocturnals, like Household's hero, are returning back to their hole.

Parts of this route were undoubtedly carved by Household himself. The Monarchs Way passes the rear of our house and our hero, when on the run, may have passed here when returning from Eggardon to the deep and hollow lanes west.  

The loudest bird at this hour is most definitely the blackbird, its song reverberates in deep lanes thirty feet below where he sings - there is not an ounce of melancholy in these lanes with such a tuneful and melodic soundtrack, it puts an extra spring in my step.

I time my arrival at a high point as the first proper light arrives, a swig from my water flask, maybe an apple and I continue....just giving myself enough time to still get home before anyone else is about and the joy of sipping my first mug of tea watching the final moments of the day waking up whilst most of the town still sleeps.  

Country Fair - May

Country Fair - May 1957

Country Fair - April

Country Fair - April 1954

Country Fair - April 1958

Market Finds No 23

"to remind you of the sport we both love so well" - what fine words indeed by the Skipper, fine roach man of the Hampshire Avon, Captain LA Parker. I know the coarse fishing season is now over and we bimble towards the opening of the trout season down here in Wessex (this weekend), but a recent market find needed recording.

I was lucky, some years ago, to purchase a signed copy of his fine book "This Fishing or Angling Arts and Artifices" which details his time angling for roach around Downton, Breamore and Fordingbridge from his base at The Bull Hotel in Downton (now a shadow of its former self I might add). This went very nicely with my old Bull Hotel fishing tie that does get an occasional airing by the river on special roach days!

More recently I managed to purchase a later edition of the book which has a lovely picture of The Skipper on the cover - what a fine and happy fellow he looks. A fine market find indeed.  

Fossil Findings

Now the coarse fishing season is over I do like to have a break before getting the fly rods out and there is nothing better than poking about on the beach for findings. The book you see above was a market finding and a very cheap one at that - who could resist such a cover? The art very similar to that in some of the Shell naturalist guides and classroom posters - I like it very much.

I have not had too much too much in the way of fossil finds these last few weeks - not enough rough seas to make them easier to find or, most likely, I am getting beaten by the "early morning" hunters who get there before me and find the treasure. Good luck to them, they deserve it! It is enjoyable to see some of the more exposed rocks that have fossils within - some of them are huge and you would need a tractor to get them home - best left where they are I say.

Country Fair - March

Country Fair - March 1953

Country Fair - March 1954

Country Fair - February

Country Fair - February 1960