Anotherangling Biography

This is where the embryonic stirring of the need to fish of JAA are decribed; also where the fishing woffle continues.

• The stirrings.
• Where I've had my tackle out.
• Where I was daft enough not to fish when I could have.
• JAA.

I can recall peering into a ditch on the Bingham road, when I must have been only 3 years old and wondering what lived under the green scum on the top of the water - I probably didn't know about fishing then, but the curiosity, the spark, was already there.

My earliest memories of fishing and its grip on my psyche came from Singapore, where we spent 18 months in 1966-67. These thoughts are lodged in my mind and the first of those is the wooden balcony at Seletar Yacht club, which overhung the sea (if the tide was in). On a rough and grey day I saw a Chinese man appear from the kitchen in the bar with a short rod and casting a line over the balcony edge, catch a garfish, which was still bending itself in bright green hoops as it was carried back into the kitchen, presumable to be turned into the dish of the day. I still haven't caught one and it's still on my "to catch" list.

The second lodged memory is the Chinese boys fishing for catfish in one of the larger monsoon drains (10 feet wide, 6 feet deep). These larger drains always had areas with some water in them and the smell was overpowering and best not committed to memory - but the feel of the heat radiating back of the concrete into my face is alongside the excited chatter as a large (to my eyes) catfish, looking like a huge alien tadpole, made it's way up the foul channel towards a bait on a line held by one of the boys. I wanted to wait for the outcome, but was hurried on. I forget where we were or were going.

The third vignette is the 'kampong' where our Amah lived. There was a well outback and in it was a carp, being fattened on scraps for the table. It would come up when fed and then sink, Cheshire cat like, back into the depths. Perhaps it 'monitored' water quality as well. I wanted to catch it even then.

These things provided the fuel for the embers which were kept alive during a camping holiday by the Thames, somewhere above Oxford (I think in the area between Lechlade and Oxford). One evening I stumbled across a man fishing in the rushes at the edge of the river. The float, keep-net and general air of expectancy fascinated me and with me still are the glare of the setting sun off the water and the smell of the river tainted damp evening air.

I cannot recall any fish caught but still see in my minds eye the float with it's rounded top and bands of colour. Even then, at a very young age (around 8 I think) it seemed full of mystery being forever poised to vanish.

The flame was well and truly alight by the time we moved to Sculthorpe in Norfolk in 1969 - I knew this as there is a pond on the approach road to the camp (the road to Syderstone) which became the object of my longing every time I passed it in my parent's car (I'm guessing this is "Wickenpond" from the map which has a tradition of its water rising and falling with the corn prices).

Moving from here to Boddam in the north of Scotland with sea all around proved to make the fever worse as the local lads would fish with rod and line from the harbour wall for Pollack and coalies, using lasks of mackerel as bait. The fish were no doubt following the trail of fish waste and entrails from the fishing boats and I could only watch and envy, but there was some enjoyment from that.

On the outer reaches of the Boddam lighthouse rock there was a rock-pool fed by the larger waves, which was deep enough (over 6 feet) to harbour a good population of Pollack on occasions. Again the pool was well frequented by those with rod and line and I could only watch the fish and the fishing enviously, enjoying the salt air and smell of the bait and dreaming of the day I would have my own rod. Then there was the water filled granite quarry pools with opalescent depths, rampant sticklebacks, more newts than you've ever seen and the occasional glimpse of a larger fish...

And then came Cyprus with it's small ballen wrasse, blennies and Moray eels and I was, clichéd, hooked.

This is a big list of everywhere I have fished. If I remember them all. Starting list:

• 1973 "Camels Hump" and "Dreamer's Bay", hand lining for wrasse and moray eels. Insane. The moray fishing that is.
• 1974 Anglsey. Whitehouse Lake, Llyn Cerrig Bach, Carnau Lake, Llyn Penryn, Trout Stream, other pools and the sea off Cymyran.
• 1975-84 The Rye Dyke, Penn Pond, Coleshill Pond, River Thames at Marlow, Cookham, Henly, Wallingford and Medmenham.
• 1975-1985 Fishers Pond, Golden Common, Hants.
• 1978 Severn near Upton-upon-Severn. Worcester and Birmingham canal.
• 1979 West End Farm, Docklow, Leominster.
• 1980 Splatcove Point, Salcombe (sea)
• 1981 Innominate Tarn, River Liza (upper reaches), Cumbria
• 1982 Porth Nanven, Lands End, Dartmouth (sea)
• 1983 Afon Goch, Llyn Padern, Llyn Cwellyn, Snowdonia
• 1984 Crummock Water, Cumbria
• 1984 Broadlands, Hants
• 1985 Churchill Heath Farm, Chipping Norton
• 1985-1996 Pike Pit, Long Lake, Kennet and Avon Canal at Thatcham, Bucklebury Ponds.
• 1986 Tributary of the River Amble, North Cornwall.
• 1986 River Thames at Runnymeade.
• 1985-2005 Bishops Green Fishery, Bishop's Green. November 2005. May 2006.
• 1991 Norfolk Broads, various bits
• 1990-1992 Theale Lagoon, Theale.
• 1992 Burn of Durn, Banff
• 1994 Buttermere Lake, Cumbria. Grantham Gravel Pit. Hambridge Lake, Newbury. Crooked Willows, Dorset.
• 1997-98 Turfcroft Farm Fishery, New Forest
• 1997-2006 Revels Fishery, Dorset. December 2005. January 2006.
• 1998 Cannop Ponds, Forest of Dean
• 1998-99 Edmonsham Smallbridge Lakes, Kingsbridge Lakes, Hyde Lake, Henbury Lake, Dorset
• 1997/98/2003 Pallington Lakes
• 2003 Wing Lakes, Rutland
• 2004 Afon Irfon at Llangammarch Wells.
• 2003-4 Various Dorset Stillwaters. Henbury Lake, Kingsbridge Lakes, Pallington, Revels.
• 2005 Rosscarbery, Ireland
• 2005: See the 2005 Diary Page. River Frome, Wareham. Revels Fishery. Whitemoor Lake. The Brickyard. Bishops Green Fishery. Turfcroft. River Stour, Fiddleford. Bucklebury Ponds.
• 2006: See the 2006 Diary Page. River Stour, Blandford. South Drain Wareham. Arfleet Ponds. Breach Pond. Winterborne Stream, Capplethwaite Beck. Lake Windermere. Ratherheath Tarn. Highbench. Barton Court Fishery. Beeches Brook. River Frome.
• 2007: See the 2007 Diary Page. River Lugg, Docklow Farm, Sweethedges. River Stour, Fiddleford. Milton Abbey. Highbench. Arfleet Ponds. L'Etang De Morinais, Barton Court Fishery. Clattercote Reservoir. Canford Ponds. Butlers Farm Pools. Dorset Club Water. Poole Quay. Kimmeridge Bay.
• 2008: See the 2008 Diary Page. River Stour, Fiddleford. Milton Abbey. Highbench. Arfleet Ponds. L'Etang De Morinais, Barton Court Fishery. Dorset Club Waters. Poole Quay. Kimmeridge Bay, River Frome, Revels.
• 2009: See the 2009 Diary Page. Milton Abbey. Highbench. Arfleet Ponds. L'Etang De Morinais, Barton Court Fishery, Kimmeridge Bay, Luckfield Lake, Heath Lake, Crooked Willows, Eastmoors.

This bit has the places I would have fished had I been smart enough to pack a fishing rod. What the blue blistering blazes was I thinking? This is why I have a 4 piece Avon rod these days. How can a mere job displace these opportunities for fishing? Lunacy. I'm OK now though. (Opinions vary. Luckily though, I don't give stuff about those opinions.)

• 1997 Lake Arrowhead Ca. OK so the lake was frozen near the edges, but really could have tried harder.
• 1998 Ottawa, Westin Hotel opposite the The Rideau Canal. Stayed for 2 days, and saw many bass and large carp in the weed. I had a day off too. Duh.
• 1998 Pan Pacific Hotel, Vancouver. It's on the seafront. It couldn't have been closer to the sea. 3 days too. Ah well.
• 2002 (August) Holiday Inn, 4 Highwood Dr, Tewksbury, MA. A perfectly good pond behind the hotel, with bass in it. I know this because I saw them.
• 2002 (August) Lake Winnipesaukee, MA (Meredith Bay). More bass, and one or 2 other fish. I was there for the afternoon.
• 2002 (May) Waikola Village, Hawaii. Still I cannot believe I went without tackle. I could have caught a barracuda. Well OK. I could have hooked a baracuda and watched it strip 200 yards of line of the reel and snap it off. It's a start.
• 2007 Newburgh, Aberdeen. I stayed here and had three hours of daylight in the early morning walking down on the sands. If I'd taken a rod, any rod, I could have fished for flatties at the least. Wasted opportunity number #235. Nice Hotel as well, I'd recommend it.
• 2008 (September) Turku, Finland on the mouth of the Aura river. Hotel was on the river front. Must get a pen rod and stash it with the laptop.

I've been fishing since I was 12, but wanted to before that, which means I've been sitting behind a wet worm for 37 years, so consider myself a virtual beginner. I was lucky enough to discover a little magic as a young angler, helped by 'Old Bob', but then 'real life' intervened and I misplaced it. Fortunately, I've managed to earth the current in the last few years and with a bit of luck it'll continue.

I live in Dorset where I do most of my angling, but I have fished all over the place. I'm lucky as I have a young family and still manage to get my tackle out most weekends, thanks to Mrs AA's good graces. I used to think my opinions on today's over commercialised angling were very much 'just me', but the discovery of 'Waterlog' and its forums was cheering and has in the end led me here.

I'll fish anywhere for anything, which is how I've come by mullet, grayling, wrasse and moray eels. I've had as much fun on 2 feet wide mountain streams catching bullheads and 1oz wild trout as I have catching tench in lily patches - although it's true to say I've done a lot more of the latter.

I like some traditional things, but not at the expense of picking the best tackle for the task in hand. I think I once got a Wallis cast about right; that is to say it went a good distance more or less where aimed without tangling on the reel handles or a tree.

I am not a 'traditionalist' and don't automatically assume old tackle is best, nor do I think all modern tackle is 'new fangled', although it's easier for some to believe this than consider the alternative.

I've yet to catch a barbel or a 20lb carp, which I plan to change, but not fanatically so, although I've certainly hooked two carp over 20lb...

I've never used bolt-rigs, boilies or pellets, (trout or halibut) and plan to keep it that way. I've tried "anti-eject" rigs and will not use one again. I like green and grey and also make a lot of floats, some of which I even use. I nearly always float fish, even when most sane folk have got out the ledger rod or gone home. Some call this obsessive; I prefer 'dedicated' and I'm usually to be found in a quiet windward corner of the lake, reclining under a hat, 6 feet from one of the aforementioned floats, apparently not paying any attention. I admit to being a bit obsessed with knots.

I tend to put coffee in my flask, as long as proper stuff is available and intend to invent an espresso attachment for the Kelly kettle. I'm overly fond of red wine, single malt whiskies, very dark chocolate and log fires. 'Addicted' is a word that has been used in respect of these things. Part paraphrasing, I like the creak of leather and the Magpie's shriek, but prefer the Jay's screech and Yaffle's chatter, possibly because those calls mean I'm unseen (so far).

I like pointed red-brick and am not yet tired of Spring. I'm technically competent and happily continue to have 'authority issues'. I like stuff made out of brass, which seems to me more honest that gold. I tend to find thing other folk have left behind, sometimes last week, sometimes 15,000 years ago. I like oak that's weathered to silver. I'm not scared of the dark and enjoy dusk most of all.

There's no telling whether my children will find the path by the water, but I take them fishing anyway and they seem to like it. Hopefully one will wheel me to the water's edge in my bath chair when I can't get there myself and ideally before I make the great last cast.

I think I fish, in part, because it's an anti-social, bohemian business that, when gone about properly, puts you forever outside the mainstream culture without actually landing you in an institution. It's a nice position. No one considers you to be dangerous, but very little is expected of you.
- John Gierach