"I'll show you how to catch a fish called Tench" he said boldly, setting up in his usual minimalist style, just a couple of shot and a 4" section of unpainted reed as a float. He explained the idea that when this Tench took his bait, the float would lift up in the water, not dart under as I'd become used to. Now this was confusing...but, I went along with it as a small boy would trusting Dad to know what was what. He cast his line, hand fed some bait and waited...and waited...We seemed to be doing quite a lot of this waiting lark, not like catching the tiddlers on the Lea, so after a couple of hours I suppose I must've been getting restless and a little bored due to the lack of anything going on.He suggested I go for a wander round and see what I could find, as there were no other anglers to annoy or disturb, so off I went. After some ferreting around, nettle stings and so on, I'd made a circuit of the pit. And there below me was the old man, sitting intently watching the little white float. On my way round, somehere I'd found a nice big flint, so there was only one thing to do...and the resulting fountain of water from his swim brought forth some choice new words I'd not heard before! I don't think he was impressed with my attempt to liven things up so suitably chastised, I sat down and was quiet and sullen for a bit. Sooner or later he said to look at the float - as if by magic it was lifting out of the water! How this could work I had no idea at that stage, but it just was as he had said. The ensuing scrap was not like anything I'd seen at that point, whatever this Tench thing was it had bent his rod right over! Skillfully, he subdued the fish, and hand landed it...he didn't hold with any of this net nonsense...and displayed the most gorgeous looking olive green fish with distinct red eyes and powerful fins, glistening in the sunlight. A sight I'll never forget. Looking back, it wasn't big, perhaps a pound or two, but the biggest fish I'd yet seen caught in person!
And that is a memory that will stay with me forever - even now we still often laugh about that day.
Today, as an Angling Trust coach, there was a very good lesson for me in that experience, namely always have your young angler doing something, doesn't really matter what...if they're not involved and busy, they'll almost always become distracted, disinterested or worse still, go off the idea completely. I digress...
Back in the day, a three or four pounder was a very respectable fish, todays monsters going into double figures were unheard of, I suppose there were no carpets of leftover boilies for them to fatten up on, indeed the Godfather of modern specimen angling Dick Walker never in his long angling career caught a 6lb Tench!
And so as ever and in all things, our past shapes our future! In late Spring there's not much that I find more exciting and at the same time tranquil as an early morning, mist rises from the water as a fizz of tiny bubbles moves ever nearer your float, it trembles, rises and...well the rest is between you and the fishing gods!
Here's one from this mornings bag...
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