Your angling journey.

[Andrew Jackson]

Well Andrew, very similar apart from 35 years after barbel
Next step then will be fishing for Zander and pike on the fly!

Glad you mentioned Zander Graham. Never seen one, let alone caught one. High time I did!

 

[Alan Rose]

My angling adventure began on the south coast when I was in my early teens. My family had relocated from Manchester for my step-dad’s work, and a friend at secondary school had some basic beach-casting gear. We spent hours on the beach without catching, but it was fun. Then another lad who lived on my street invited me to what we’d now call a commercial. I was still clueless about what I was doing, but the feel of the whole thing was magical. I did eventually get better at beach casting and caught a nice bass, and I even got a boat trip off the needles and caught a mid-double figure cod. In fact thinking about it, I did a lot of sea fishing in my early teens.

Music took over though, and I spent the rest of my teens immersed in learning the guitar. That was more or less the end of fishing (apart from a couple of boat trips and an occasional try at fluff-chucking), but it never completely went away and if an opportunity arose to have a go, I’d take it.

When my son was five, we had a family holiday in France and there was a small river that wound its way through the grounds. I thought it might be nice to have a go at fishing, so I bought a cheap telescopic rod and reel to take with us. Zach was absolutely transfixed with it, and when we caught a nice perch he was over the moon. When we got home I bought a whip and took him to a commercial, and it all really mushroomed from there.

I’ve never match fished and have no interest in even trying it to be honest. I don’t fish for the adrenaline rush, but for the contemplative aspect, for what Izaak Walton called studying to be quiet (he was quoting from the Bible by the way). I wish I’d had a family member who fished as that always sounds precious when I hear those stories. I hope my son will look back on going fishing with me with fondness and then one day I might become the fishing granddad I never had

 

[Andrew Jackson]

My angling adventure began on the south coast when I was in my early teens. My family had relocated from Manchester for my step-dad’s work, and a friend at secondary school had some basic beach-casting gear. We spent hours on the beach without catching, but it was fun. Then another lad who lived on my street invited me to what we’d now call a commercial. I was still clueless about what I was doing, but the feel of the whole thing was magical. I did eventually get better at beach casting and caught a nice bass, and I even got a boat trip off the needles and caught a mid-double figure cod. In fact thinking about it, I did a lot of sea fishing in my early teens.

Music took over though, and I spent the rest of my teens immersed in learning the guitar. That was more or less the end of fishing (apart from a couple of boat trips and an occasional try at fluff-chucking), but it never completely went away and if an opportunity arose to have a go, I’d take it.

When my son was five, we had a family holiday in France and there was a small river that wound its way through the grounds. I thought it might be nice to have a go at fishing, so I bought a cheap telescopic rod and reel to take with us. Zach was absolutely transfixed with it, and when we caught a nice perch he was over the moon. When we got home I bought a whip and took him to a commercial, and it all really mushroomed from there.

I’ve never match fished and have no interest in even trying it to be honest. I don’t fish for the adrenaline rush, but for the contemplative aspect, for what Izaak Walton called studying to be quiet (he was quoting from the Bible by the way). I wish I’d had a family member who fished as that always sounds precious when I hear those stories. I hope my son will look back on going fishing with me with fondness and then one day I might become the fishing granddad I never had

I never knew that the Walton phrase came from the bible Alan! My oldest brother was a keen angler and I remember when he caught a 4lb 6oz Brown Trout from our local stream and the fuss it generated ( he caught it on a so called friend's rod who then thought he had a right to it!). Also remember him catching a 6lb Common Carp about 1972. Wow! It was a monster and I'd never seen anything like it! Sadly Phill's passed away now and he left home when he was 20 and I hardly saw him much again afterwards. Such is life.

 

[Andrew Jackson]

I never knew that the Walton phrase came from the bible Alan! My oldest brother was a keen angler and I remember when he caught a 4lb 6oz Brown Trout from our local stream and the fuss it generated ( he caught it on a so called friend's rod who then thought he had a right to it!). Also remember him catching a 6lb Common Carp about 1972. Wow! It was a monster and I'd never seen anything like it! Sadly Phill's passed away now and he left home when he was 20 and I hardly saw him much again afterwards. Such is life.

He joined the Navy then after that moved to Spain in case you're wondering why I didn't see him much!

 

[Alan Rose]

I never knew that the Walton phrase came from the bible Alan!

Yeah, it’s from 1 Thessalonians 4:11 in the King James translation: “Study ye to be quiet…”

 

[Tony Koziol]

Started as a snotty 11 year old on the cut (Rochdale Canal in Failsworth) managed to catch a 5lb jack pretty soon into my apprenticeship and never looked back. We caught loads of flirters off the cut and I think I had 10 species from that 150 yard length just 100 yards from my front door.
We fished all the Manchester park waters and other venues in the area, Boggart Hole Clough was very interesting over the years.
A trip to the River Dane on our push bikes was a good laugh, around 40 mile round trip, my mate Joe did it on his Raleigh Chopper.
Many years Carp fishing whilst still remembering other fish existed.
Witnessed lots of things, people loving each other in car parks, a mass brawl, a duck shoot overhead, fox hunt over the river, bivvy fire, park gates being rammed and other anglers stories, as was mentioned you can write a book.
Match fishing never enticed me I always say I have enough of a challenge catching a fish let alone catching two or more.
Fifty one years as an apprentice is some going but every trip is still a learning opportunity.
This week saw some Grayling gracing the net next week it will hopefully be obliging Wrasse.
Fishing has brought me closer to nature in particular birds just what is there not to enjoy about it.

 

[Neil Maidment]

For me it all started in the late 1950's. See above images!

That's me with my two sisters. My dad had taken us down to see three of his brothers salmon fishing the top of the tidal Dorset Stour. I always had a sort of memory of Uncle Mick stripping off, jumping in the river to free a weeded salmon. Turns out I was right. Many decades later, shortly before Mick passed away, we were having yet another chat about the past. Mick wandered off and eventually came back with tins and albums full of photos, producing those two and many, many others. It seems. after that day, I was always pestering my uncles and aunt to take me fishing. They quickly gave in. My first ever fish was a flounder, pretty much from the spot shown on the images, whilst "worming" for salmon.

My Uncle Ron (first image) went on to catch the third heaviest salmon from the Dorset Stour at 40:08 - Throop Fishery, Nettlebeds - his ashes are scattered there.

A Christmas or so later one present was membership of Christchurch AC. It then got serious and interesting. Junior club matches on almost every third weekend during the season as well as sitting behind Mick and his contemporaries in their Senior matches watching some of finest river anglers I've ever seen. I managed to win a few Junior matches which qualified me to fish the Senior matches. I was the first Junior to win a Senior match and managed a couple of other wins as well. Moved on to winter leagues and a few open matches eventually qualifying for the club's NFA National Team by way of a high finish in the club's Match Championship. Having graduated to the senior match scene, I generally did fairly well locally, but with a few exceptions, I was "pools fodder" on the Open/National scene right through to the 1980s.

One highlight was 150lbs+ of barbel & chub from Throop - 1 keepnet emptied & weighed several times - to win a decent sized sweepstake match. Barbel highlight was a Hampshire Avon (Sopley Mill Stream) 1976 fish which weighed 11:06 - had to wait for a couple of decades to net a heavier barbel!

The middle/lower stretches of the Dorset Stour and Hampshire Avon were my local rivers, trotting for chub, barbel, roach & dace was the order of the day

Fishing took a back seat in the late 1980's as my wife and three young sons followed me to London and elsewhere to further my career. Eventually got back into fishing, typically on the Loddon, Wey and Blackwater. Got fixated by crucians at Yateley's Summer Pit (and nearby other lakes!) as well as stalking double figure trout at Avington and other well known big trout waters. Fairly regular trips "back home" saw me chasing chub and barbel particularly on the Stour. Both chub and barbel had grown a bit since the 1980s!

Having retired and relocated back to Dorset in 2015, I'm quite selective and choosy with my fishing. For the past decade or more I've really enjoyed winter trotting for chub and grayling. Even more so when in the company of good like minded mates. The social trips, which often involve "home & away" visits over several days are a great highlight of my season.

As far as barbel are concerned, here's my first (from the Dorset Stour in 1968) and one my most recent (from the Wye last month).

 

[Derek Funcks]

Brilliant story and write up Neil. Fond memories.

Mine started when i was about 10 years old, my elder cousins went to Bala lake each year camping/fishing. I was invited along with one of my mates. We'd all cram into the back of a van, and off we went. On arrival, first job, was to make a lakeside camp fire, then get the tents up. Like Alan above, my first fishing rod/reel/kit was from Woollies. Still remember my first fish like it was yesterday, a perch of a couple of ounces, but that got me hooked, i was like the Cheshire Cat. On our site, there was a stream that ran into the lake, it had a large boulder in the middle, one of my cousins told me, that trout lived under it, and if me or my mate could catch one, he'd give us a pound note, ( a fortune for a young kid in them days ), my mate, Darren, had a special gift, he was blessed by god, he climbed and laid himself on top of the boulder, clinging on with his left arm, his right arm was under the water and rock, not long after, his arm came out with a trout in his grasp. I was like, how the F*** did you do that. My cousin couldn't believe it, he'd been trying for years with no luck. Me and Daz had a good old pig out on that quid . The next day, we went to the stream/river that fed the lake, no idea what its called. This is where i caught my second ever fish, i had no idea what it was, but was told it was a grayling. I could of died that day, Daz had climbed down the bank, and jumped onto a little island in the water, i followed him, but it was too small for both of us, there was another a small jump away, i went for it, and sank up to my neck. Somehow, Daz managed to drag me out using my rod which i still had hold of. No sympathy what so ever from my cousins, they were just pi%%ing themselves laughing cos i looked like a mud monster. Back at camp, we carried on fishing, but all we caught were eels, heads chopped off, and put on the fire with a big bag of spuds. Oh the good old days.

 

[Andrew Jackson]

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For me it all started in the late 1950's. See above images!

That's me with my two sisters. My dad had taken us down to see three of his brothers salmon fishing the top of the tidal Dorset Stour. I always had a sort of memory of Uncle Mick stripping off, jumping in the river to free a weeded salmon. Turns out I was right. Many decades later, shortly before Mick passed away, we were having yet another chat about the past. Mick wandered off and eventually came back with tins and albums full of photos, producing those two and many, many others. It seems. after that day, I was always pestering my uncles and aunt to take me fishing. They quickly gave in. My first ever fish was a flounder, pretty much from the spot shown on the images, whilst "worming" for salmon.

My Uncle Ron (first image) went on to catch the third heaviest salmon from the Dorset Stour at 40:08 - Throop Fishery, Nettlebeds - his ashes are scattered there.

A Christmas or so later one present was membership of Christchurch AC. It then got serious and interesting. Junior club matches on almost every third weekend during the season as well as sitting behind Mick and his contemporaries in their Senior matches watching some of finest river anglers I've ever seen. I managed to win a few Junior matches which qualified me to fish the Senior matches. I was the first Junior to win a Senior match and managed a couple of other wins as well. Moved on to winter leagues and a few open matches eventually qualifying for the club's NFA National Team by way of a high finish in the club's Match Championship. Having graduated to the senior match scene, I generally did fairly well locally, but with a few exceptions, I was "pools fodder" on the Open/National scene right through to the 1980s.

One highlight was 150lbs+ of barbel & chub from Throop - 1 keepnet emptied & weighed several times - to win a decent sized sweepstake match. Barbel highlight was a Hampshire Avon (Sopley Mill Stream) 1976 fish which weighed 11:06 - had to wait for a couple of decades to net a heavier barbel!

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The middle/lower stretches of the Dorset Stour and Hampshire Avon were my local rivers, trotting for chub, barbel, roach & dace was the order of the day

Fishing took a back seat in the late 1980's as my wife and three young sons followed me to London and elsewhere to further my career. Eventually got back into fishing, typically on the Loddon, Wey and Blackwater. Got fixated by crucians at Yateley's Summer Pit (and nearby other lakes!) as well as stalking double figure trout at Avington and other well known big trout waters. Fairly regular trips "back home" saw me chasing chub and barbel particularly on the Stour. Both chub and barbel had grown a bit since the 1980s!

View attachment 32821 View attachment 32822 View attachment 32823

Having retired and relocated back to Dorset in 2015, I'm quite selective and choosy with my fishing. For the past decade or more I've really enjoyed winter trotting for chub and grayling. Even more so when in the company of good like minded mates. The social trips, which often involve "home & away" visits over several days are a great highlight of my season.

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As far as barbel are concerned, here's my first (from the Dorset Stour in 1968) and one my most recent (from the Wye last month).

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Wish I had a picture of my first Barbel ( also from Throop). I can remember it well enough though. Particularly the bite!