Hake, Haddock and Sole!

I'd been fishing Newhaven arm since I was 14 or 15 when, during the school holidays, mum used to get rid of me by offering the fare of a weekly "runaround" on the Railway. We always got area 4 which cost £1.65 for the week catching the 09:14 to Warrior Square as the ticket wasn't valid before 09:00 This covered Tunbridge Wells to Rye via Hastings and all the way to Brighton including the Seaford branch. It was a good excuse to explore other areas for potential fishing trips. During this period, I caught my first sea fish, OK, it was just a Pouting, but the 6oz fish put up a good scrap on light tackle.

Those weeks saw some coarse fishing,  most notably on the "Wallers Haven" behind the Star Inn. Did we buy a day ticket? Hmm.. I think not! The rest of the week we just pissed about on the trains and played the putting greens all over Sussex. 

One day myself, Neil Scott and David Heskett met up to get the usual train, and on the way to the station, David found a wallet with £10 in it. We chucked the wallet out of the tunnel and spent most of the money on Chocolate and the "Pitch n Putt" course at Hastings. It's what the owner would have wanted!

In May 1977 I decided to do a rail trip from Penzance to the tip of Scotland. I'd got free rail travel by now, but couldn't get anyone to accompany me, so embarked on a solo away day. I took my rod with me to go on one of the Mackeral trips offered out of Penzance. It was on this occasion I found how badly I suffered from sea-sickness. Another family group on board caught  loads whilst I was offering some "rubby dubby" to the fish.

Until I arrived at Thurso, I hadn't realised how much windier the north of Scotland was. An overnight stay was not taken into consideration, and I caught the same train back to Inverness. I must revisit that highland line again before I die.

When Kevin passed his driving test, it was a good excuse for night's out for all the lads. I think there were six of us in his old Land Rover for the initial trip to Newhaven. It must have been around November 1978, I would have been in the passenger seat with the other four in the back experiencing a very rough ride. I think I was the only one with any angling experience as I can't recall the others fishing. Perhaps they came just for a jolly?

Another night out saw us change the location to Dungerness, or rather Denge Marsh which is gobbing distance away. We hired a bigger land rover to accommodate a couple of extra freeloaders. On arrival, I remember it was blowing a gale and no fishing was done. As the night progressed, tension was mounting and arguments started. At dawn, Paul Neal went outside and found a box of flares. God knows why they were on the beach apparently abandoned? He brought one back to show us all and we thought it would be a good idea to let it off. As none of us had seen one before, it came as a shock to see what happened. We scarpered pretty quick before we got into trouble, but I can't understand why we left the remaining flares on the beach?

I think that was the last time we all went out together.

Strangely, when I moved out of home in 1980 to Eastbourne, it was many years before I did any sea fishing again. Even when I lived at Seaford, I only walked along Newhaven arm once and was not  tempted to fish. 

Fishing, Football, Mopeds and Punk Rock !

1976 was a great year, I was asked to leave the 6th form due to lack of interest in anything Sandown Court Secondary Modern had to offer. The year before saw me do rather badly in exams, hence the extra year of punishment. How could anyone expect to do English GCSE on the 16th June? I recall walking home from Bowman's pond in Pembury and getting to school just in time. Fishing was fast becoming a major part of my life. Unbeknown to me, just two years previous, John Beverley, who was a bit older than me, was also a pupil at Sandown Court before he left to become Sid Vicious.

A provisional licence and a brand new Yamaha FS1e moped saw my early morning sessions become easier. Bayham Abbey, near Lamberhurst was one of my favourite venues, especially the stream coming out of the lake. I wasn't supposed to be there of course, but at dawn, I could hide the moped in the woods, and get under the boathouse and fish the lake which was strictly out of bounds. It was this area that was known as "Poacher's Path" and unless there was someone on the other side of the lake, no one knew I was there!

My first job was making tea 3 times a day for 20 train drivers at Orpington station. The weeks wage of £16.50 went towards getting much needed new fishing tackle. I got a 13' Sealy Blue Match, which at about £25 was an expensive rod at the time. The 7 lb "Little Samson" spring balance had served me well in my formative years, but I always wanted a set of the more reliable Avons. I think these were £4.50, money very well spent. They lasted nearly twenty years before I replaced them.

I'd started supporting Brighton & Hove Albion in 1971. The recently acquired moped obviously came in very handy as I could work, fish and go to the Goldstone all in the same day. "Peter Ward" was my hero, and I was very lucky in seeing most of his games for the Albion.  

Music was also very important. The emerging punk scene was by the end of the year, a pivotal part of my life. The first punk single I purchased was "New Rose" by the Damned, and I have requested this song to be played at my funeral, even though I don't intend on dying just yet. 

With so many distractions, I could easily be forgiven in letting angling take a back seat for a while, but during the summer of 1976, I probably did more sessions than in any year, before or since. I was practising speed fishing for Roach and Gudgeon at Dunorlan Park and would often get over 100 fish in two hours. I never got into Carp, sitting around waiting for a fish that might never feed was not my thing.

It was bloody hot that summer, although one August night when we fished Bayham, proved to be unbelievably cold. There was a dew frost at dawn, I can't remember catching, but found my way into the church to warm up, leaving my best mate Kevin Fowler shivering on the bank. Later that day, Gary "Bunny" Neuman and Anthony "Plug" Crampton turned up and by midday, boredom set in, leading to a very silly game to see who could lift the biggest cow pat. I refused to enter, Bunny had a finger of shit, Plug did two, and then Kevin put both hands under the whole pancake!

Another memorable session saw me arrive at Bayham at dawn when I wasn't supposed to finish work until 07:00. I'd had three good Tench, a 2 lb 8oz Chub and a Roach of 1 lb 6oz all whilst still being paid by British Rail. This was to become a regular occurrence during the next four years. I'd love to find the time to do it all again. How I squeezed so much into my teenage years, I will never know?

Closed Season, Cold Turkey !

Come on, we've all done it, fished where you're not supposed to. Remember as a kid, quietly creeping past a house to get to a lake hidden to all but the well informed? Age and maturity has probably taught me to respect people's property, but when it comes to forgotten streams and rivers around the Kent & Sussex borders, that's another matter!

In all fairness. in four years of "minding" the upper Medway, where I act as a bailiff, to keep people like me away from illegally fishing the club waters, I've only had a handful of incidents. Usually they offer the same excuses I used, such as "I thought this was a free stretch" or "I've just joined the club, but haven't got my card yet" or the most common one, "I never saw a sign saying it was private" Some clubs, including mine, are guilty of not placing adequate signage in prominent positions. I've tried to remedy this, and thankfully, those signs are still in place.

     The word "poaching" literally means,-

"To illegally hunt or catch (game or fish) on land that is not one's own, or incontravention of official protection"

As very few anglers fish for the pot nowadays, we can assume that any person caught "poaching" are simply there to flout the laws of the land to get some free fishing. Of course, with the influx of immigrants from Poland and the former Soviet countries means that more education is required to protect our valuable stock when club members are not around.

It's now getting towards the end of May 2014 and I've been out spotting fish on my local river. Aside from sporting my best Polaroid's, noting the changes the winter floods have made, is as important as spending time wetting a line. The bonus of seeing Barbel spawning, or a rogue Carp cruising upstream is worth it's weight in gold. Adding into the equation the song birds at their most majestic best, I could be forgiven into thinking that in heaven, it is always this time of year.

The excitement of June 16th is far too precious to devalue by casting a line during the three months closed season when fishing on rivers is prohibited, and I'm very proud to have never been tempted. Since the enforced lay-off was abolished on still waters in the early 1990's, I've been visiting Ireland to get my "River Fix" The downside of my spring pilgrimage, is the apparent lack of species such as Chub, Barbel, Grayling and Dace, so on my return, I eagerly await the glorious 16th!

So what is the purpose of this blog page? As you can see in the heading, "confessions of a naughty angler" I'm not always a good boy. I still like to fish where I'm not allowed. I draw the line to waters where clubs have taken time to place signs, or on private land where the owner has "No Fishing" on a gate, but if a stretch of water doesn't, then I'm very likely to have secretly parked the van a good distance away and enjoyed the thrill of being that same young lad in the first paragraph.!

My favourite method is the stick float on a short 10' rod, carrying only essential items such as landing net, scales, weigh sling and everything else tucked away in my multi-pocketed waistcoat. Bait would usually be Red Maggots or sweetcorn with pinkees offered as loose feed and possibly a wee bit of brown crumb laced with hemp and molasses  I've certainly no time for Sensas or Van den Eynde at £4 per bag!

In the coming months, I'll be visiting some of those forgotten streams in search of wild fish. If I do happen to get caught where I shouldn't be, then that's my fault for being there! A good friend once advised me to "never con a conman" so I may use my favourite line "you may own the land, but God owns the fish" That one really confused the owner of Horsebridge Mill near Hailsham on the Cuckmere a few years back and he didn't want to have a run in with a religious nutter. I still go there several times a year!

If anyone can remember fishing at the Lake in Reynolds Lane near Tunbridge Wells during the mid-seventies, I'll share with you a small confession. A young girl (probably the farmers daughter) used to come around looking for the 10p day ticket money. Her name was Denise, but we christened her disease because of her not too pleasant body odour. I managed to go a whole summer of free fishing as she never had change for a five pound note. Little did she know I didn't have the note anyway, but she was so thick and never asked to see it!

It was great being 14!

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