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Post by Mick209 on Sept 4, 2003 21:26:42 GMT
There are several all involving the same problem. I started going fishing with me dad and suffered from missing bites and sucked maggots. Started to fish junior matches and my dad was'nt too happy at my strike rate, so he would sit behind me and shout 'STRIKE' when I got a bite. Sometimes this would not be too helpfull as he got quite annoyed at it and me. One day I won a match through my lateness to strike, I reeled in after being biteless for about an hour and found out I had been on the bottom too much, dragged in a crap load of blanket weed and an elver. Put the elver in my net and won the under 10's section of the junior match, £5, thankyou. Not long after, maybe a couple of years, I then got to fish my first big match. The Lincs junior championships on the river witham. I was told to fish waggler in the middle, so I did as I was told. I did'nt catch much at all. After the match I told dad how I got on. I explained that when I get bigger I might be able to see a waggler in the middle of the witham, but for now its too far out for me, better I fish close in, I said. Not long after that event I had an eye test and got some glasses after I found out I was short sighted......the witham was'nt so big after then. LOL Also me dad taught me to fish cack handed as he's left handed. It took me a few years to suss out that as I write with my right hand, I'd been reeling in the wrong way for years. Now I can do both......which is nice....LOL
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Post by Brian G on Sept 5, 2003 19:37:12 GMT
River Blythe at Coleshill around 1952 full of minnows some roach but nobody seemed to catch them. First rod was made out of a tank ariel from Fletchers plus corks and rings from Jimmy Chaplins down the Rock. Cost 10 shillings and 6 pence. Converted into a bomb rod about 20 years later.
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Post by Bread 'ead on Sept 10, 2003 22:28:33 GMT
"Nostalgia"- it aint what it used to be ! My earliest memories when I was a "young un" was being told "keep an eye on t'tackle son while us old uns just nip for a quick pint". Also years ago,as kids we would leave our rods in the water, baited up, go for a ten minute walk to see who was catching, come back, reel in, bingo ! A half-ounce gudgeon hooked down to it's arse, swinging from your "size 18 barbed hook". If you did that nowadays you'd arrive back at your peg to find your rod being towed around the lake by a monster carp - so at least some things have improved ! P.S. Whatever happened to "daddy ruffe ". ;D
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Post by Pete M on Sept 30, 2003 0:25:14 GMT
My 1st fishing trip was to a pond on Tooting Bec common,about 1962 aged 7,Taken by my Mum,the rod was an old snooker cue with some rings whipped on and an old wooden starback reel held on by electrical tape.We set up on the "manhole cover swim" and first cast with a bit of worm i caught a Pongo Gudgeon,I was hooked for life. I soon progressed to a 10ft cane and fiberglass rod and an Intrepid Truespin from the local tackle shop and spent many a happy day with the rest of the lads who inhabited the place.I was given the nickname Lucky,as i always seemed to catch 1st cast. The thing used to be to wade out to the small island and fish towards the "bombhole" on the corner of the large island,which was supposed to be where the monster carp lurked. I went back recently and the small island has been removed and 1/2 the lake fenced off as a nature reserve. My best fish from the pond was a 13lb 10oz common carp,caught on a freelined lobworm from the front of the landing stage.It took me 7 years to catch a bigger one! The other great adventure was to catch the train to Hampton Court,and then sneaking through the hole in the wire fence by the road bridge over the river Mole and fishing under the railway bridge.I caught my first Barbel there,just under 2lbs but it seemed like a giant at the time. Every time we went i used to go into the large tackleshop there and buy a couple of Camafloats (the first Drennan floats).I've still got a couple in my box today.They don't get used anymore,but everytime i open my box there they are,and the memories come flooding back. Happy Times,
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Post by dorsal on Nov 4, 2003 23:19:04 GMT
After weeks of trying I pulled up on the car park of my local gravel pit determined to fish a peg I,d wanted to fish but couldn,t because someone always beat me to it.Even though i,d arrived at 3.15 am their was already 4 vehicles on the site. My first thought was S**T, but further investigation revieled the peg i wanted was empty, in fact their were 5 pegs in a row,I couldn,t believe my luck. Without further ado i ran straight back to the car grabs me tackle box out of the boot ran back to the peg and planted it faster than Linford Chistie, by now its breaking light,I fires in 3 or 4 pouches of caster & hemp and tackles up, Finally i,m at peace with the world the birds are singing the dawn chorus and god loves me! "WRONNNNNG" ,the rods on the rest,i,m takeing my first sip of tea from my flask and i,m quietly watching the mist roll of the water. Then all hell broke loose, I felt a mozzy or a fly or summut land on my left cheek so i tried to brush it off but it decided it wasn,t going to go until it had stung me 4 times on the face, i jumped up waveing my arms about screeming oh dear and darn it knocking me flask over and standing on me landing net pole neatly disecting it cleaner than any trained surgeon.in my shock horror i stepped back and planted me foot into about 12 inches of water leaving me trainer submerged in about 6inches of slimey black ooze, I reached down to recover me trainer and noticed that the bulkof me bait was was in the side in 2 or 3 inches of water, apart from my pain i was overcome by this feeling of hopelessness and then rage! Me days ruined i thought so i packs up right rapid the rods go in the passenger side me netbag in the boot and me box on top, I slam the boot down and put 2 perfectly placed outward faceing dents in the lid so big you could have mounted an aerofoil on em,so i lights a f*g in a futile attempt to calm down!, i gets in the car turns the key and the batteries flat.But please believe me i,ve never killed a robin in my life
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Post by Gary on Nov 4, 2003 23:29:06 GMT
Talk about a bad day, sounds like you killed a number of Robins, not one. ;D ;D
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Roach
New Member
Posts: 22
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Post by Roach on Dec 16, 2003 19:50:09 GMT
One of my first memories of fishing was with my Grandfather on the Avon some 45 years ago. My Grandfather was a coal minor, a raw boned little man, strong as a horse with a giant temper to match. He was learning me how to use a stick float when two canoeists wanted to tie up in the swim that he had chosen to fish. My Grandfathers temper had started to rise and I heard words I had never heard before, he was holding a 13ft cane rod pointing a the nearest one, the men in the canoes were set on mooring where we were fishing Any way to cut a long story short my Grandfather picked up a great big stone and hurled it at the nearest canoe, it went straight through the canoe at the water line. To this day I can still see the look of deep shock on the face of the canoeist as he slowly sank upto his neck, shouting "I can't swim" and my Grandfather shouting back at him, now's the time to learn and the great big grin on my Grandfathers face as he said to me, I bet thats the last time he spoils anyone's day, (I have always wondered who spoilt who's day)
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Post by Liquidized on Dec 27, 2003 7:16:08 GMT
A few years ago I had run a fishing match at the weekend On arriving home I was unloading my tackle from the car and I heard the phone ringing I rushed through the internal door from the garage and took the call, leaving the door wide open When I had finished on the phone I cleaned my tackle up and took a shower After dinner I was lay on the couch watching TV, as you do following all that fresh air and strenuous self inflicted exercise I fell asleep
Now when you live on your own, you don't expect to be awakened by a tapping on your chest, at first I thought it was a dream. I sleepily opened my eyes and I was literally nose-to-nose with the biggest rat in the world Needing new trousers was just part of it, my heart stopped and my reactions went into overdrive My hand hit the rat and it dropped behind the chair on the other side of the room Within a split second I was returning from the kitchen with the largest pan I could find and a rolling pin I stood in the middle of the room waiting for the beast to show; it then appeared
ily it strutted from behind the chair. I thought oh chit it must have it's young with it, as this was only tiny compared with what was sat on my chest Then I realised, that when first waking and being nose-to-nose it seemed to be massive Then I spotted its tail as it jogged closer. It wasn't a rat; it was a baby squirrel Within minutes it was sat on my hands, it seemed to be so tame; I thought it must be a pet. So much so I called on a few neighbours to enquire, but no one knew anyone with a squirrel Later that evening I had to ring the results from the match through to a National Magazine reporter. I told him about the "rat" and explained the only thing I could think is that it was trapped in my tackle bag, and emerged into the garage then the house while I was on the phone. He suggested that I called the RSPCA the animal rescue centre to deal with it I rung six different centres, not one answered or returned a call, so the only other thing I could think of was to return it to where it had climbed into my bag
The following day I drove to the place on the canal that I fished. I took the squirrel along the banking, placed it in the grass and walked off As I got part way back to the car I passed a woman with two young children. I heard a squeal, turning round the woman had one child clinging round her neck and the other buried up her skirt, she was screaming a rat, a rat. I walked back, bent down and the squirrel jumped onto my hand. I said it's ok it's just a squirrel. I walked away and placed the squirrel back in the grass, I had only walked a few paces and the squirrel was again following me. Now this was causing a problem, I needed it to go somewhere where it would be kept away from humans until it found its bearings. I spotted a large bed of thick brambles, scratching my arms and legs I lay over the brambles and placed the squirrel down. I then left knowing that the squirrel had a good chance to go back to the wild A few days later, to my surprise and embarrassment, a National News Paper had picked up on the story from the magazine. They titled it "Giant Rat Attacks Fisherman" I wish they had waited for the rest of the story lol
That was the biggest shock I have ever had. I still have nightmares about waking face to face with the biggest rat in the world
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Post by ridgeacre on Dec 27, 2003 11:09:22 GMT
did you name him cyril
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Post by matttttt on Jan 6, 2004 16:11:24 GMT
My first experience of fishing was in sweden, 2lb perch thankyou very much, it tasted nice smoked too! ;D I was spinning, and then later went on to do some more fishing at the local canal near Dudley and aught perch, roach and then later chub! I went to a commercial and hooked a carp which just pulled the rod so i pulled back! this was my first experience of carp and needless to say i lost it! Then someone showed me how to use the drag and i was well away!
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Post by alfie on Mar 10, 2004 21:21:25 GMT
marple roman lakes was my first memory.......I remember getting bite after bite but I could not catch a fish.......I must have been 3 or 4 and after a couple hours I said to my dad "how come everyone can get a fish and I can't".......then I looked at my magott it must have been 4 inche long lol!......I said dad I have lost my hook....... little did I know he didn't put one on he just tied a magott to the line......so then he had to put a hook on I first got a perch fishing stick to face.........then a gudgeon and I was in love ever since that day
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Post by Stu on Mar 19, 2004 19:55:37 GMT
I can't remember my first fishing trip even though there is photo evidence; I was about 6 months old in a pram on the banks of the Grand Union in London, Scrubbs Lane I think by the look of Her Majesties building in the background! My dad and grandad were fishing, my mum was watching and a rod was put to my hand. I was absolutely oblivious but somehow hooked! ;D First trip I can remember would have been when I was about 5. My dad used to fish Burghfield Lakes (Leisure Sport as they were then). All I remember is that we were catching roach and blades on his rod, when my dad jumped in up to his waist to save "my" rod (which had been set up as a maggot feeder) which was being taken off the rests. Minutes later I saw my first 3lb tench. Beautiful.
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Post by FraserClarke on Apr 29, 2004 19:40:03 GMT
I am amazed reading all these tales of peoples first fishing memories; everyone seems to have caught fish on their first trip. It took me two years -- yes, YEARS -- to catch my first fish! (and then I caught three that day). I wonder if I can get some kind of prize for dedication... Not, mark you, that I fished very regularly during these years, and neither did I have anyone in my family to help me learn. I can remember why I started fishing; I found my uncles rod, reel and tackle bag (still including toilet paper (unused!!)) in the loft -- not sure why it was in our loft and not his. I thought "This looks like fun, lets have a go at this". I used mainly to fish in the burn (stream) near my granparent's house. It flows through the middle of grangemouth (a very grotty port town in central scotland), but it does/did have a fair head of brown trout. My parents must have bought me some books on fishing, but these were all on coarse fishing (so I was fishing cheese, potato and the such, as expounded by my book on catching chub from small streams). Later I moved onto worm at my grandad's insistance (very sensible man). I do remember clearly my first piece of fishing experimentation. It had come into my mind that perhaps the fish, which I was quite good at spotting, just not catching, in this shallow clear stream might be spooked by my bright flourescent red bubble float.... So I experimented. I carefully found a swim where I could see a couple of small trout, cast my bubble float upstream of them, and watched... low-and-behold when the float got to them, off they shot without even looking at the worm (or maybe I was still fishing potato at that point..). So, off to the tackle shop I went and bought the smallest clear bubble floats I could find! It was not long after that I caught my first fish -- a nice little brown trout around 8oz. I must have been about 10 when I started fishing, 12 when I caught my first fish (!!) and about 14 when I started coarse fishing (which then was, and I think still is, a very minority part of the sport in Scotland). It was when I started coarse fishing (and even more-so, match fishing) that I really got addicted I would also like to note, in case of any future selection to TA teams, I did get alot better after the first two years! Fraser
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Post by POLEPOT on May 16, 2004 12:56:22 GMT
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Post by FraserClarke on May 16, 2004 19:54:23 GMT
Oh don't worry, I will be -- as soon as I'm on the right side of the Atlantic and the equator!!! Back in the country as of September, so I will have the wonderful pleasure of meeting you all end this year/start of next
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