Saturday 18 April 2015

Back on the Bank down but not out

DOWN BUT NOT YET OUT

Having recovered sufficiently from my muscle wasting problem I was able to go fishing for the first time in over a year. My brother Gary invited me to go with him to his local lake near Bulford Village in Wiltshire. I made the 100 mile journey over to Salisbury the day before and stayed with my sister.


 Gary told me not to bring any tackle or bait with me as he had everything I would need. I felt a bit guilty about just turning up and leaving everything to him so I told him that I would bring my own bait and end tackle with me. I was a bit worried about how I would cope physically, but Gary put me at ease and told me he would even carry me down to the swim if he had to. I laughed and told him I wasn’t quite that bad.

I began to get very excited about the trip the two nights before it was due and I found it hard to sleep. There was a time when I thought I would never be able to wet a line again and here I was, about to go forth once again and continue with the sport I loved so dearly. Lots of fears drifted through my mind, making it difficult to surrender to the sleep I needed. Would I be able to cast okay and would I make a fool of myself in front of Gary?

He would probably expect me to live up to my past reputation as a reasonable angler and how would he view me if I made a hash of it all? All a bit silly really, but I suppose male macho and ego take their toll where match fishing is concerned.  Although we were not going to be match fishing, when you have spent more than half your life in this pursuit everything seems to drive you to compete even though you don’t want it to.

Also in my mind was the last time that I had fished with Gary at a venue called The Viaduct, he had given me a right drubbing on the carp fishery. I didn’t feel like being given another tonking on a different fishery. My pride began to get the better of me and I felt a bit apprehensive about how I would handle the situation.

Gary told me to turn up at his place at 9am. I had not expected that as in the past we had always been up at the crack of dawn and more or less been able to choose our swims being the first to arrive in the morning. When I arrived, true to his word, Gary had everything we needed loaded up in his van.

 All I had to do was climb out of my car and jump into the van. Within 5 minutes we were on our way through the countryside.   I was raring to go and I felt that as each minute went by I was losing the day, but I suppose it was quite sensible really as we did not know how my body would react to this physical activity. The muscles were weak due to be wasted by low activity due to my illness.

 Looking into the back of the van, I couldn’t help thinking how great it would have been when I was well into match fishing, if I had such a van myself. It would have been much easier to have been able to put all my gear in a wheelbarrow ready to carry along to my swim. As it was I had to lug it all over my shoulders and I had to arms like a gorilla to carry the masses of gear I needed.

Sometimes carrying it over half a mile there and the same on the way back. I bet all the anglers of my age are physical wrecks in their old age. It is much different these days, but how they can afford all the gear, I don’t know.
On the short journey through the rural scenery I especially enjoyed seeing the many beautifully coloured male pheasants in the fields. Although I do actually live in the exceptional beautiful county of Devon, we don’t have much in the way of game birds, although we do see the odd one now and again. To see so many in a small area was great, but I felt a bit sad that many of them would probably shot dead in flight, when they looked at their most beautiful.

Anyhow, we arrived at the lake and all Gary had to do with his gear was to roll it off the back of his van and he was ready to walk to the side of the lake.
As rod and line was the lightest of tackle I chose to go with that method. I have always felt most confident when float fishing as I never really got on with the pole method. Poles in my day were all heave and clumsy even when I had no physical problems to contend with. Coupled with the extortionate prices being demanded by tackle dealers, I could only afford the much shorter models.

 Having a family to support, I just couldn’t warrant spending the huge amounts of money required to purchase the longer models. They could run into many hundreds and even a thousand pounds to acquire. I used to fish on occasions with the short pole and long line to hand. This involved laying the long line on top of the water and lifting fish straight to hand. In those days it was a good speedy method for small fish such as dace, roach, bleak and gudgeon. Fished using very light line and really small hooks, it was goodbye if you hooked a larger fish. No elastic in those days I am afraid.

I did and still do, recognise that in the right hands the long pole and short line method can be deadly and in most cases far superior to the rod and float. Not being able to use the long pole is quite a big negative, but I suppose being able to fish at all is in itself a huge bonus for me.

There was an old guy fishing in the bay left of my swim so I had to be careful where I chose to cast my tackle. Being old school and not wishing to upset other anglers around me, I wandered over and negotiated with him how we would divide the area up so we did not interfere with each other’s fishing. The last thing I wanted was to get into any bother.

 As it turned out he only wanted to fish about half way out in front of him and told me I could fish out against the end of the island if I agreed to leave him with the bay to cover. I was very happy to agree to this and we were both happy.

As Gary had all the ground bait, he mixed up enough for both of us and asked me to choose 2 areas initially, so he could put bait in for me, to save me having to throw it in. As my swim was adjacent to the end of the island, I asked him to put some bait just off the end and about 6 feet from that bank. I chose a nearside swim about 10 yards to my left and again, about 6 feet out from the bank. As it turned out later, they were not the best calls.

Gary put a couple of big balls of ground bait mixed with plenty of hemp into both my chosen swims. Within 5 minutes the swim out on the end of the island was fizzing away like coca cola, with feeding bubbles everywhere. I was almost salivating at the sight and I could see clouds of silt being kicked up by feeding fish. I thought that I had arrived in fishing heaven and I couldn’t attach my end tackle quick enough and get on with it. It didn’t take long as Gary had already attached the float and line to the actual rod and all I had to do was to attach a hook length and adjust the bottom shot.
After adjusting the depth and trying to find any changes in depth I discovered that there was only a shelf close into the island which was a few inches shallower than the rest of my swim. Apart from that I only had a common depth of three and a half feet over the rest of the swim. From past experience I knew that any decent size fish would probably tear off left or right as they had no way of going down in depth. I would also have to stop them trying to go round the end of the island in a mad rush.

With these thoughts in mind I was glad that Gary had put 4lb plus main line on the reel and I had gone for a size 16 hook to 3lb plus hook length. I still had it in mind that if I was to lose a fish that I would up the hook size to a 14 if I had to.

It was now 10am as we started fishing, with me on the rod and Gary choosing to fish the long pole, with short line and elastic. I thought to myself “Here we go again another futile battle against the mighty pole”. I had to cast close to the island and sink my line quickly, while Gary slid his pole quietly and accurately within inches of the island. With both of our swims fizzing away I expected us both to be into fish fairly quickly. I had chosen to fish either sweetcorn or bread as my main hook baits in the island swim and to fish meat or pellet in the nearside swim to my left. With no bites on bread to start with Gary suggested that I tried maggot on the hook. This I did and immediately had bites on the drop.

 After catching a few small roach around the 4oz mark I decided to persevere with the bread in the hope that the size of the fish would improve.  After about 20 minutes I hooked into a bigger fish which lived up to its size by shooting off into the bay on my left. I managed to turn it before it reached the float and line of the angler on my left. I finally landed it and it turned out to be a common carp of about 4lb plus. Another carp soon followed 20 minutes later. It was a mirror of approximately 3lb. After that the bites dried up on bread, so I changed to sweetcorn on the hook.

At this point I stopped looking to see how Gary was doing, but in the next hour I did see him land a couple of decent fish, also he pulled out of another and his tackle tangled round the end of his pole.

The change of hook bait seemed to work and a flurry of slightly bigger roach to around 8oz came to my landing net and a few F1 hybrids followed them. The hybrids were a cross between the common carp and crucian carp, running to about the 8oz mark.
Sticking with sweetcorn on the hook and catapulting a steady stream into the swim I had a good half an hour with 3 larger carp being hooked and landed. They all fought like tigers and the largest ran close to 5lb in weight. My next bite felt much bigger and in the blink of an eye it was round the end of the island. I tightened up as much as I could to try and turn it round to my left, but unfortunately it shed the hook and disappeared in a mass of bubbles and a huge bow wave. I tried to be angry, but I just couldn’t bring myself to lose my temper.

After all I was having a really good time and so far my body was not complaining too much except for my upper arms and my lower back. I suppose the adrenalin was helping to keep the pain at bay a little bit. 

I decided it would be a good time to have a drink of coffee and a sandwich. I felt good as I had landed over 15lb of fish, even though they were not really having it, with bites only coming about once every 20 minutes. Each time I struck and missed a bite I was annoyed as I knew that it would be a while before the next one.


Due to the ultra light Drennan float rod Gary had provided, I was coping with the physical side of the session so far. Also, I was very thankful that during that morning I had gone fish for fish with Gary. I decided to leave my tackle out in the swim while I had a bite to eat and would you believe it, as soon as I went to pour myself a cup of coffee from my flask, away went the float, causing me to strike. As I struck and missed the bite, I nearly fell off my chair and also spilled my coffee down myself. Some things in fishing never change, do they?

I decided to do the right thing and reeled my tackle in. Gary came over and I shared my sandwiches with him.  Unfortunately I discovered that the flask had failed me and the coffee was in fact cold as the thermos had failed. Such is the lot of an angler. The Bailiff came round to take payment for the days fishing and Gary graciously paid for both our tickets.

The bites gradually failed altogether in both my swims, in fact the nearside one had failed to produce anything at all during the session. The sun had pulled round directly in front of me by now and both my face and hands had turned a bright shade of angry pink despite the sun cream on them. Over the next couple of hours I could only pick up a couple of carp to around the 2lb mark and the time crept up to 3pm. At least I had kept up with Gary to this point although he was probably a couple of fish ahead. My bites dried up altogether over the next half hour, while Gary switched to fishing the ledger against the island.

Over the next half hour Gary used the ledgered micro pellet feeder method to great effect. It involved pre-preparing the micro pellet by placing about 4 handfuls into a bait container and covering them with water. They would soak up the water over a period of about 15 minutes to arrive at a consistency which would allow the angler to place his hook bait into a small mould and the actual ledger itself would be pressed into the mould. When extracted it would form a smooth teardrop shape with the bait contained in the centre.

This would allow the angler to cast it very close to the island without any tangles or catching the hook length on the vegetation growing out of the island. The pellets would slowly disintegrate allowing the hook bait to appear in the middle of the pellets. Gary had already soaked the pellets previously, so he was ready to go. I was amazed for the next 30 to 40 minutes as he landed fish after fish on the method, while I remained biteless. He must have caught about 10 carp in this short time, with some bites coming within seconds of casting in.

Being the gentleman he is, Gary walked over to my swim and offered me the ledger rod and micro pellets. He informed me that he was using meat as his hook bait. I was very concerned about my casting ability with the ledger as you had to hit the target very close to the island to get the takes, so Gary showed me how to clip up and work my way closer and closer to the island until I got it right. Once or twice the ledger actually hit the island and bounced off. He explained that was because I kept leaning forward at the last second and that I should keep my body still in the same pose each time I performed the cast.

Getting into a rhythm was the key to hitting the same spot each time. After a few hairy anxious moments with over and under casts I got the hang of it and then I started catching carp one after the other.  I couldn’t believe how easy it was, with the carp actually hooking themselves against the weight of the ledger.  It seemed to me to be a very brutal type of method, with myself only having to hang on to the rod and not having to even strike. There seemed to be no real skill in it except for the actual casting and building up the swim with bait to keep the shoal interested and feeding. Also, I suppose I still had to land the fish with a shorter rod and less control over the fish. In my day we always thought that you had to be so delicate with a sliding type of ledger so the fish would not feel any resistance when they took the bait. It seemed crazy to me that this method turned that theory on its head and in fact made us feel a bit stupid sticking to it for so long.

In that last hour I managed to land about 8 more fish.   Even though Gary had shown me the way home again I did not feel bad. In fact I enjoyed the day very much indeed and cannot thank Gary enough for treating me to a great days fishing.

He took the time and effort to look after me and reminded me there are still some nice and caring anglers in this world that are prepared to give a bit back rather than just take and take from the sport and angling fraternity.

I am very lucky indeed to have a brother like Gary who loves me enough to help me cope with my illness. My body has ached for quite a few days after but I seem to have got away with it. Many thanks for a fantastic days fishing with fantastic company.
     
Gordon Rowland

18th April 2015

Thursday 19 March 2015

dog or drown?

FISHING MEMORIES

The River Incident

Although this little story is not really relevant to actually fishing, I thought it was worth telling to highlight the real danger that exists at times when we frequent fishing areas. It actually happened in the Autumn of 2013.

For you to be able to understand exactly what happened I need to fill you in about the layout of the rivers around Newton Abbot in the County of Devon. The rivers that run around the town are the Lemon and the Teign. Also there is a Culvert which carries any excess flood water away from the town centre shopping area.

 The town centre has flooded in the past and due to this the Culvert was built and because of this we have not had any bad flooding for many years. The Culvert and the River Lemon flow into the River Teign about half a mile from the town centre at what is called the Town Quay. I live just around the corner from the quay alongside the local brewery called Tuckers Maltings. The brewery provides the malt for many small brewery’s in Devon.

The rivers around town are all affected by the tide as we are less than five miles from the seaside town of Teignmouth as the crow or seagull flies.
The Town Quay is a deep water berth for all types including trawlers from as far away as Norway to land their fish and others to unload their many types of cargoes. The tide can bring up the depths of the river by up to six feet or more so where I live we have to keep an eye on levels at times of high tide and it often comes to within a couple of feet of flooding. We are not covered by the walls on each side of the culvert which protects the main town. Having set the scene I will get back to my main story.

The culvert is as I have said, banked by ten feet high walls in the main part of town. When we have exceptionally high tides coupled with heavy rain draining off the moorland the culvert can go from a few inches in depth, rising to almost eight feet. It can go from just a trickle to a raging torrent which flows so fast; you cannot run fast enough to match the current.

Just outside the ASDA Supermarket the culvert enters a tunnel which goes under the main part of town for several hundred yards and then it flows under a few road bridges, before joining the Lemon and Teign at the Town Quay.

The incident which happened relates to a man walking his dog just outside ASDA and next to the culvert. At that point there is a small slip entry to allow workmen to access the culvert to carry out any necessary repairs. It seems that the dog slipped its lead and jumped into the culvert. The dog was quickly swept away by the current.  Without thinking, the man jumped into the culvert in a bid to save his dog and was, himself swept away.

They were quickly dragged along with the current into the tunnel and under the town centre. The tunnel was absolutely full of water with hardly any air between the surface and the top of the tunnel.

No-one could get anywhere near the man while in the tunnel and it was impossible for anyone to run fast enough to get to the end of the tunnel before the man was swept out or not. By some sort of miracle, the dog survived and got out of the culvert. The man, however, was swept the half mile downstream by the current, until he came to a stop just upstream of the Town Quay. He was stopped by the bushes and branches growing on the side of the bank.

From what I have since learned, he was still alive at this point, but his body was all battered and bruised by the many obstacles he had encountered along the way. By the time his rescuers got to him he was unconscious and although they fought to keep him alive and used the Devon Air Ambulance Helicopter to get him to hospital, he subsequently died from his injuries.

Rivers can be a source of beauty and tranquillity at times. They can be enjoyed by everyone at those times. They can also be a high source of danger at other times, especially when tidal. I think back to the many times I have heard of dog owners jumping into water attempting to save their pets and subsequently dying themselves, while their dog manages to get out and save itself.
This was indeed one of those sad occasions.

Gordon Rowland
19th March 2015



2nd postscript

SECOND POSTSCRIPT TO FISHING MEMORIES

I truly thought all good things came to an end for me in fishing terms but it seems that I was indeed wrong. Exactly a year after packing up my gear and almost taking the action of selling all my fishing equipment, the medical world did me a huge favour and discovered that my Fibro-myalgia, which has no cure, was indeed a form of the disease called Poly-myalgia.

The medics informed me after a series of blood tests that this was so and that they could keep it at bay with Steroids. They prescribed a product called Prednisolone.  They informed me that I would know within a month if the product did the job or not and so I agreed to give it a go. They also informed me that it had side effects which would have to be dealt with to enable me to go on functioning as normal.

The main problem was that steroids tend to soften the bones which support the joints and so I would have to ensure that I took a fairly high dose of Calcium in the form of tablets on a daily basis to help counteract the steroids. This was to be supported by a tablet of Alendronic Acid once a week.
They started me on a fairly high dosage of steroids and the idea was to arrest the chronic muscle and joint pain and subsequent wastage due to the low usage of these over time. The specialist was of the opinion that I should drop the dosages down slowly over a period of about nine months until I got to the point of taking just enough to keep the disease at bay. With a bit of luck the disease might burn itself out over time.

 Within three weeks I was indeed free from most of the pain and I considered it to be a bit of a miracle as I was able to sleep for the first time in many months. Over the following year 2014, I tried dropping the dosage lower and lower until I was on about a half of the original dose. I attempted to drop it a couple of milligrams more and then it started to come back again, so I had to go back up again to keep it at bay.

That is the dosage I am on at present and it seems to do the job for now. Although the muscles have built up again, they are only about two thirds of the strength they were before I fell foul to the disease. I am not sure whether I could play and land a big double carp but I feel sure that I can land smaller ones. I just don’t know whether or not I could fish the river holding a float rod for a long time or not. The only way for me to find out I suppose, is to give it a try.

With regard to the stroke I had a couple of years ago, I seems to me that I have recovered from it, but I have to take an Aspirin every day to ensure I do not get any more blood clots.

It is now March 2015 and I have renewed my fishing licence for the year, but I have not joined the local angling club in Newton Abbot as I don’t yet know what my capabilities are when it comes to getting my gear to the bank side. There is not much in the way of river fishing down here in Devon but there are a fair few lakes about. I miss having a fishing mate to share my time with. I really enjoyed fishing with my brother Gary and miss those times very much.

 I know that he is not too well himself these days. It feels that us old boys of the eighties and nineties are simply fading away one by one, so I just cannot give in and I am determined to get back onto the bank one way or another.

I know that I will never be the angler I was in the old days and that the world of angling has moved on these days to loads of lakes filled to the brim with ever hungry carp to massive weights. I cannot really handle long poles and I will have to rely on the good old fishing rod and reel to realise my dreams in the future.

 The wonderful rivers that we enjoyed as young and middle aged anglers have declined and seem to have gone forever except for a few fortunate places in the South. As I have said, I am determined to carry on and perhaps there are still a few more angling adventures in store for me yet. I hope that the first might be in this fishing season of 2015. Watch this space.

Gordon Rowland

18th March 2015