Pickled Carp Adventures

The Pickled Carpers Web site

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Part 1: How it all started

 To begin, an extract from Pickled Carp, a local newsletter that I used to produce quarterly.

With a fire burning strongly in the hearth, Izaak the dog, at my side and only a couple of days untill Christmas, it's easy to dream. About gentle, early mist dancing around the float on a June morning, tiny pin bubbles appearing next to the, now, twitching red tip as somewhere below the Tench grubs amongst the bed of corn. Of the shadow of a twenty pound Carp, moving amongst the flotsam, in the July evening sun, searching for the chum mixer it knows is there. Dark black backs of double figure Bream, rolling in the heavy chop of the strong August wind, only yards from a large bed of crumb.

It's easy to remember too, of those formative years Chub fishing with Pop; the long journey on a Saturday evening, to Newtown, on the River Severn. Sleeping in the car after a fish and chip supper. Rising early to catch our first three pounder before breakfast; Long autumn evenings on the River Arrow, Warwickshire, fishing for the pound plus Roach with Hemp and Tares; Catching Tench from the secret Malvern pool (secret, because I've been back to look for it without success). It's easy to remember that many of us have been fortunate in our introductions to angling. 

Angling is a great school of learning, we all know this. It teaches patience; to wait and be calm. It helps develop an understanding of the countryside and nature; a familiarity with our surroundings. It teaches us to be sociable and gracious; to say good morning in a whisper to the margin fisher. 

Pop is the gratest angler I have ever known. At the tender age of five or six I just wanted to be just like Pop, an angler. However he had other ideas and I did not get my first rod until my eighth birthday, still the best present I have ever received. On the 28th April 1972 I held a shinning blue, 8 foot, solid glass, spinning rod and an Intrepid Black Prince reel, however this was during the traditional close season and in the early 70s there were no waters open all year. To give me some of the fundamental basics and to keep me quiet (more the later I think!) Pop taught me to cast in the back garden. I had an old bucket, placed by Pop at various positions around the garden, into which I had to cast my 1oz lead. As the skills started to develop Pop placed it in ever more difficult locations. By the time the season came I could underarm cast the lead into the bucket which was positioned under the overhanging willow tree, next to the pool, at the very bottom of the garden.

Pop in 1964, the year I was born. A great angler

June 16th and we were off to the River Arrow for a spot of Tench fishing, in the Lilly beds above the weir. This all meant nothing to me, I was just going fishing with Pop. The sun was just rising as I tied on my size 14 spade hook (another way Pop kept me quiet during that close season) and molded the bread flake around it, Pop was in the next swim, his float already lying against the pads. It was time to cast for the first time, for real! ....... "POP! WHERES THE BUCKET?" at the top of my voice. I got my first lesson in bankside etiquette and my ears stung for about an hour but I can still remember that first tap tap tap on the rod top. We had practiced how bites looked, we had practiced the strike, I was ready. Tap Tap Tap..WOOoosh and a Gudgeon had its first flying lesson..."Pop its in the tree!" a little more quietly this time. Pop caught a couple of nice 3lb Tench and I finished with four Gudgeon, including the one from the tree and a Chub about 8oz.

June 16th 1972 and I get to use the best present I've ever had

I got a little better each time out and I learnt a lot with every hour on the bank. By the time I was ten I knew the difference between a Hare and a Rabbit, between a Vole and a Mouse, a Lobworm and a Brandling. I talked in a whisper at the bankside and in an ear splitting scream when I got home...."Pop, what's that in the bushes on the other bank?"..."Looking at the colouring Andrew, it must be a stoat"....later that day....."MOM GUESS WHAT I SAW TODAY????"

Those early years seemed to last forever. Saturday afternoons would be spent 'preparing' the gear and bait. If we were going to the upper Severn we would have to make the cheese paste, Pops favorite Chub bait. If it was Tench we were after the groundbait would be made the day before, it consisted of bread crumb, sweetcorn, scalded maggots and pigs blood (disgusting stuff that would make me heave). Whichever fish we were going after there was always some 'preparation'. I am sure this is where the roots of becoming a specialist angler came from, Pop would always go fishing with a particular fish in mind.

Chub - First fish over a pound on Pops favorite bait, and still one of mine

At first I was not allowed to fish with a float but as my skills and patience developed so did the armory, it was a year later I first cast a float. Over the next four years I only fished with Pop but as I developed an his confidence in me grew, I was allowed to go on my own to the local pool. That is where it all started! At first it was trying to select the bigger Perch out of the shoal when fishing slow sinking maggot. Then stalking the Tench with breadflake in the gin clear margins and later fishing for the Bream on the waggler at 'range'.

Later towards the end of the 1970's I started to fish the local canal for Carp that had been stocked there a few years previously by the local club. The Carp fishing became more and more prevalent and during the school holidays, I would be there at least two nights per week. Most of the fish I was catching were in the four to eight pound range. These fish were good fun but after a year I wanted something bigger and I knew to get it I would have to widen the horizons. I was now sixteen, it was 1980 the start of a new decade and time to move on.

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Widening the Horizons - Part 2: As a teenager I get into Carp fishing, but soon become obsessed.

Learn to Enjoy - Part 3: A major event changes my whole perspective.

 

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If you have any comments or suggestions email me at pickled.carp@btinternet.com