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I started my sport while in the army down south and fished the likes of Dungeness and the Kent coat. Bait was easily dug up, fish were plenty and the weather all seemed better then. It was in the 60's and early 70's though.
Then I was posted to Ripon. I took up (well resuscitated) my river fishing. I had always river fished from a very young age, mainly trout in the Wear at Bishop Auckland.
The Ure at Ripon was incredible. Loads on offer there from barbel to pike, roach and grayling etc.
Every Wednesday we had a sports afternoon. We all had to parade and the Sgt Major would walk along the line, point at people as he went past. Football, rugby, athletics he'd say as he went past us. I was really miffed at that. I had a sport. Fishing.
This guy was a dumbskull of the most remarkable magnitude. He even had his wife walk behind him while they were out shopping and he put a squaddie on a charge for being idle as they back-pedalled on a bike as he went past. He also had another stand guard on a grass verge every night between 6 and 9 for a week to guard the grass. He caught him walking on it and just gave him that as a punishment. He was called the Pig......
Anyway, I got enough courage to take matters up with him one Wednesday. I went on parade with my fishing rod in hand. The only person who wasn't standing there in PE kit.
"What the Kin-ell you think you're doing Robson" he screamed.
"Going fishing sir" I said. "It's my sport sir and I know you want us all to follow our chosen sport so we can excel in our own way".
You know what?
He says "F off out of my sight then. Off to the river you go and I don't want to see you on parade here anymore. You can go fishing as soon as you finish work in the mornings."
Christ I was shaking in my boots expecting to be marched straight to the guardroom. So that was my re-entry back into river fishing. 2 of my mates did the same thing the week after and we went out fishing every week after that.
This Sgt Major was so mean. We had women soldiers (WRAC) in the camp and I watched him drill them one morning. They were nowhere as near co-ordinated as us guys in drilling. With the regular lads if he shouted "Attention" you'd hear a single slap of feet as they all hit the ground at the same time. The lasses didn't get that though. You heard them all hit the ground in a ripple effect.
The Sgt major was getting really angry at them. He tried over and over again. Attention he'd shout. Rippllllle as their feet came in. Stand at Ease.... Rippllllleeee as they did the same again. Attention.... same again.
The next thing I heard was him shouting "When I shout Attention I want it done with speed. I want to hear forty fannies sucking in air"..........
For what it's worth I much prefer fly and lure fishing on a river. It's a skill. You aren't just humping a damned great bit of lead and a couple of hooks into the sea hoping some dumb tommy cod will find the bait. Fishing with a fly or lure is one where you stalk the prey. You seek out the lies where they are likely to be and cast to them deliberately. You choose a fly based on a recent hatch or river critters being active.
The thrill of seeing a fish rise to take a fly you made yourself is unbelievable. I made some pretty gruesome ones myself, little better than belly button fluff but caught on them just the same. The rod bends. You're into a fish that fights for its life. It shakes and runs at every inch you try and gain on it and if you lose it that's fine too. It's a battle you don't have to win, to win.
The first sea trout - or salmon I hooked at Durham was on a day when I shouldn't have been there. It was baking hot, the river was low and there'd been no rain for ages. There was literally nowt being caught and the weed was overunning the slow stretches.
I threw a large silver and blue Toby to the tail end of a pool under my bank side. It was actually just over the shingles where the pool flattened out and ran over a shallow area. I just bumped the lure along on the bottom hardly reeling it but letting it drift round in the water. Then WHAM.
Frightened the $hit out of me. This creature just hurled itself up out of the water and splashed back down with the lure firmly in the mouth. I didn't get full sight of it due to the overhanging tree but it was BIG.
It took off like a rocket straight upstream. I was using a good heavy rod I remember, and it bent it like a twig. I slowed it down and it came hammering back down river so fast I couldn't wind in quick enough to keep up with it. Then when the line finally tightened it was in the pool under my feet, which also happened to be full of roots of a willow.
I got it up a little and could see its face in the gloom and that was it. A shake of the head and it was gone.
But you know what? I didn't care all that much. It was the catching of it that mattered more to me. SO fluff-chukkers, go for it. Get on and do something that has more skill, more excitement, more potential and mostly in lovely surroundings in weather that suits you and not at the mercy of tides and crappy French Trawlers purging almost anything edible from our seas. And those bloody crabs eating all your bait.........
Am getting my own river rods out this week by the way.
Then I was posted to Ripon. I took up (well resuscitated) my river fishing. I had always river fished from a very young age, mainly trout in the Wear at Bishop Auckland.
The Ure at Ripon was incredible. Loads on offer there from barbel to pike, roach and grayling etc.
Every Wednesday we had a sports afternoon. We all had to parade and the Sgt Major would walk along the line, point at people as he went past. Football, rugby, athletics he'd say as he went past us. I was really miffed at that. I had a sport. Fishing.
This guy was a dumbskull of the most remarkable magnitude. He even had his wife walk behind him while they were out shopping and he put a squaddie on a charge for being idle as they back-pedalled on a bike as he went past. He also had another stand guard on a grass verge every night between 6 and 9 for a week to guard the grass. He caught him walking on it and just gave him that as a punishment. He was called the Pig......
Anyway, I got enough courage to take matters up with him one Wednesday. I went on parade with my fishing rod in hand. The only person who wasn't standing there in PE kit.
"What the Kin-ell you think you're doing Robson" he screamed.
"Going fishing sir" I said. "It's my sport sir and I know you want us all to follow our chosen sport so we can excel in our own way".
You know what?
He says "F off out of my sight then. Off to the river you go and I don't want to see you on parade here anymore. You can go fishing as soon as you finish work in the mornings."
Christ I was shaking in my boots expecting to be marched straight to the guardroom. So that was my re-entry back into river fishing. 2 of my mates did the same thing the week after and we went out fishing every week after that.
This Sgt Major was so mean. We had women soldiers (WRAC) in the camp and I watched him drill them one morning. They were nowhere as near co-ordinated as us guys in drilling. With the regular lads if he shouted "Attention" you'd hear a single slap of feet as they all hit the ground at the same time. The lasses didn't get that though. You heard them all hit the ground in a ripple effect.
The Sgt major was getting really angry at them. He tried over and over again. Attention he'd shout. Rippllllle as their feet came in. Stand at Ease.... Rippllllleeee as they did the same again. Attention.... same again.
The next thing I heard was him shouting "When I shout Attention I want it done with speed. I want to hear forty fannies sucking in air"..........
For what it's worth I much prefer fly and lure fishing on a river. It's a skill. You aren't just humping a damned great bit of lead and a couple of hooks into the sea hoping some dumb tommy cod will find the bait. Fishing with a fly or lure is one where you stalk the prey. You seek out the lies where they are likely to be and cast to them deliberately. You choose a fly based on a recent hatch or river critters being active.
The thrill of seeing a fish rise to take a fly you made yourself is unbelievable. I made some pretty gruesome ones myself, little better than belly button fluff but caught on them just the same. The rod bends. You're into a fish that fights for its life. It shakes and runs at every inch you try and gain on it and if you lose it that's fine too. It's a battle you don't have to win, to win.
The first sea trout - or salmon I hooked at Durham was on a day when I shouldn't have been there. It was baking hot, the river was low and there'd been no rain for ages. There was literally nowt being caught and the weed was overunning the slow stretches.
I threw a large silver and blue Toby to the tail end of a pool under my bank side. It was actually just over the shingles where the pool flattened out and ran over a shallow area. I just bumped the lure along on the bottom hardly reeling it but letting it drift round in the water. Then WHAM.
Frightened the $hit out of me. This creature just hurled itself up out of the water and splashed back down with the lure firmly in the mouth. I didn't get full sight of it due to the overhanging tree but it was BIG.
It took off like a rocket straight upstream. I was using a good heavy rod I remember, and it bent it like a twig. I slowed it down and it came hammering back down river so fast I couldn't wind in quick enough to keep up with it. Then when the line finally tightened it was in the pool under my feet, which also happened to be full of roots of a willow.
I got it up a little and could see its face in the gloom and that was it. A shake of the head and it was gone.
But you know what? I didn't care all that much. It was the catching of it that mattered more to me. SO fluff-chukkers, go for it. Get on and do something that has more skill, more excitement, more potential and mostly in lovely surroundings in weather that suits you and not at the mercy of tides and crappy French Trawlers purging almost anything edible from our seas. And those bloody crabs eating all your bait.........
Am getting my own river rods out this week by the way.
Sea, coarse, fly - if you like fishing, you'll like them all and there's always plenty new stuff to learn before the long sleep.
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