Fisherman's Tales

[Joolz]

getting bollocked by a passing dog walker because a duck nicked my free lined floating crust and got it self snagged

I had to reel it in really slowly while the gobby prat bent my ear and his dog was yapping with excitement as the duck got closer to the bank, i think that was the last time I went carp fishing

[Gonzofiend]

I should probably post in this part of the forum more considering I fish a lot. Been fly fishing rivers and lakes for about 30 years now. Grew up learning on rivers but mainly stockie bashing for rainbow trout. In my teens I started learning to tie up my own flys. This particular fly was called a 'stalking bug' pretty much lead wire wrapped around a hook with a yellow tail and head, covered in varnish so pretty heavy for a fly. I headed off to my local lake with this fly I was all proud of making ready to catch some fish. When I arrived at the lake there was a gale force wind blowing making casting difficult but I could see fish rising in the corner of the lake so I moved around to that location. 

The wind was blowing from my right to left and being right handed this wasnt ideal as it meant each time I launched the line in the air it was coming close to my noggin on the way past. First cast though i put this lead bug into the corner where I had seen the fish and first cast, fish on. Sweet I thought. Then another cast and another rainbow on. Few more casts and another. I had caught four at this stage in no time at all. In those days we took a lot more fish home for dinner and I had a five fish ticket bought. After that it would have been catch and release. I launched the line in the air for another cast thinking it wouldnt be long before that filth fish came along. This time though a massive gust of wind came and I knew my cast wasnt going where I wanted. I ducked and got slapped by a load of fly line around the back of the head and landed in a heap on top of me. I started reeling the line in and felt a tug at the back of my neck, then realised I had buried the hook into the back of my head. I couldnt get it out (still barbed). Showed my Da and he tried to force the issue with me "ahhhhhh'ing". 
Shortly after that off to the hospital to have it removed. Doctor comes into the cubicle i was in, smiles laughs asks me to hold on and comes back with a bunch of student doctors, about five of them and proceeds to show them all how to remove a fishing hook from someones head. 

 

Biggest thing I ever caught 

 

Have put hooks in me again since but fish barbless only now, for me and the fishies (catch and release only also). I've a ton of fishing stories from saving a guy from drowing in about 3 foot of water to watching a guy get his leg broke by a sheep as he walked his dog through their field. Not very sensible. Love a day out fishing. 

Edited September 17, 2021 by Gonzofiend

[cypo74]

On 28/03/2021 at 7:15 PM, Captain Bonglington said:

I'd carefully positioned my bait, when along came one of the Swans, peering down into the water at my bait....Being young, my patience with the swans had worn thin, and so I decided the best course of action was to get the catapult out and just discourage it a bit, send a shot across its bow, or maybe just wing it...

This reminded me of a time I was fishing an old pit, stalking, sat up a tree watching 3 of the biggest residents of the lake feed on my spot when a duck started diving on the bait, scaring the carp. Patience caved after about half hour, baited the duck into my landing net and decided that supergluing a boilie to its beak would be a fitting punishment. The theory being it would be so sick of the site of the boilie by the time it fell off that it might think twice next time it finds a bed of boilies. 
After releasing the duck the seagulls started dive bombing it, after the boilie. 
 

I caught the biggest fish in the lake 15 mins later at just over 36lb

 

still have the photo of the duck with the boilie on it beak.

 

but yeah, did feel a bit of a cunt looking back on it but rage had taken over

[the lone deranger]

Nice thread @Captain Bonglington

 

Might have to come back, as i've got a few..

 

Grew up course fishing with me dad, recently been doing a bit of game fishing on a small local river but mainly sea fish now on a kayak.

 

Most recent tale is taking my mums fella  out on the double kayak.

 

Normally i'd have waited for a nice calm, sunny day but they were only visiting for a few days. My mum said he was really keen to go out so i thought fuck it, lets go. It was a bit windy, but not too bad. Sun was trying to poke its head out. And there were big tides, so i thought the fishing might be good.

 

Poor fucker

 

Paddled out. The wind picked up immediately, and there was a fair swell too. He reminded me he doesn't really like the sea, he's not a good swimmer, and has never really fished before Best put your life jacket on then! As he was using it to pad the seat out.

 

It was rough! I tried fishing for about 5 minutes, but it was too much. I was having to look out for rogue waves, while keeping us steady. When i suggested going back, he was visibly relieved.

 

Thing is, the bay we came out of was now bloody surfable!  The swell had picked up, wind blowing off shore, and running against the tide.

 

I was pretty nervous about coming back in.

 

Had to time it just right, surfing the waves back in on a badly loaded, double kayak.  Rods, cool box, lunch and beers wobbling about. His balance was all over the place. I nearly lost it a couple of times.

 

But made it back safely in the end.

 

He's never once mentioned that trip, or suggested going again.

 

[Captain Bonglington]

@the lone deranger...Your tale reminded me of an incident round your way...

It was the last day of the holiday and we'd been out for one last blast around on my mates little speed boat. 

It was fairly calm when we put in, but by the time we'd returned it was coming up to high tide and the wind had swung round to a north westerly, pushing a decent swell straight into Aberfforest bay. 

In hindsight, what we should have done was waited until the tide turned, but keen to get in for dinner, and unsure if conditions would improve, we decided to try to get the boat back on the trailer. 

I hopped off, waded ashore and came back with the Discovery and trailer,and after launching the winch strap at my mate began carefully backing it into the sea. 

He'd got the winch attached, and I looked in the rear view just in time to see a wave rear up and smash into the back of the Disco, before I saw my mate, boat sideways to the surf and half full of water with a panicked look on his face...

Another wave hit, and another, by which point the boat was full of water, it's contents floating around in the surf around the boat.  It was sinking. My mate had jumped out of the boat and was stood on the trailer desperately trying to winch the now really heavy boat on...Another wave picked it up, and dumped it at a jaunty angle on the trailer...

"FUCKING GO, DRIVE! " my mate yelled, I floored it...

Predictably, with the boat and trailer weighing a ton more than it usually would, the Disco's wheels were spinning, smoke and steam everywhere, but it stayed where it was and started digging itself a hole in the wet shingle...Fuck. Now we were really in trouble...I could feel every wave hitting the back of the truck, like a car was going up the back of us every few seconds...

A last ditch, do or die dose of full throttle and the truck found enough traction to drag itself out of the surf. 

Halfway up the beach, with a boat full of water sideways on the trailer, possessions lost to the waves, seaweed hanging from the boat and truck, bemused onlookers...

"Well, that was one of our smoothest retrievals ever..." said my mate. 

Half an hour later, the tide had turned, the wind had eased and the sea was like a mill pond. 

Lesson learned. 

Edited April 16, 2022 by Captain Bonglington

[the lone deranger]

  'smoothest retrieval ever'

 

Fair play. I've always fancied a proper boat but know i'd end up in situations like that. My little old polo would have floated off into the surf instead of getting me out of the shit.

 

I love aberforest. It's one of my favourite spots. Quick visit to the waterfall, spot of lunch on the flat grassy bank to the left, bit of lure fishing off the rocks, then back in the kayak. Fucking bliss (especially when the sun's out).

 

Literally next door when i was in Newport as you know. Not anymore, but it's still one of my local spots. 

 

Hope you're well mate 

[Captain Bonglington]

It's a ten foot, two seat fibreglass boat with a 40 on the back, bought at a farm sale as a shell, with boat specific trailer for 140 quid. We put a floor, steering and seats in, and a 40 is as much as it could safely take, or a bit more. ...It'll do Aberfforest to Dinas Head in under two minutes. It's the fastest vessel out there when we visit without fail. 

 

Yeah, it's one of my favourite places too mate, been going there so many years it's like coming home in a way. 

 

Edited April 16, 2022 by Captain Bonglington

[the lone deranger]

Ah, well lets make sure we meet up there this summer mate.

 

I can tell you all about my kids

[Captain Bonglington]

One that's sprang to mind...

@Arbre Medicinal...you may be able to picture the scene...You know Ogmore Deeps? 

We turned up there on my birthday last year, day out...

I knew it has a fearsome reputation in a south westerly, but it was calm on the day, we arrived first thing at low tide...

"Fucking hell, it's a long way down there" we said, but both being adept climbers we left our kit on the top ledge, sussed a route down and ensured we could escape back up...made our way down, and fished, unsuccessfully, in our own rocky little suntrap by the water's edge, quite happy. 

The tide was rising, and we'd agreed it was nearing the time to move back up to the top ledge, when suddenly a lead landed in the water right over our baits...then another...and another...

"What the fuck" we exclaimed...then a face appeared over the ledge. 

"Fucking hell boys" the bloke said in his South Wales accent as we climbed back up the rock face with our gear, to be faced with five or so bemused looking anglers... 

"I've been fishing here for years and I've never seen anyone down there but." 

It was lovely down there, we couldn't see what the fuss was about. 

 

[Baron von greenback]

Mine was this big i tell ye must of been 30lbs if not more got it to the top and it got off  couldnt get a pic it was a monster tell ya must of been 50lbs at least 

[Herbal Kint]

I remember watching 2 guys tell the story of how their fishing went,supposedly one spontaneously combusted, both guys looked like total drunks and prolly self combusted from % of alcohol in them,but they were so convinced, we cried watching that,I'll try to dig it up.

 

My fishing was normal so not much to say but I enjoyed fishing round islands of Rab,Pag etc. Such a good time ,cheers for the thread you just inspired me to dig some old views,this are caves around Bisevo

Edited April 25, 2022 by Herbal Kint

[Pepe Ramon]

@Captain BonglingtonI know the Deeps very well and I've seen some great fish caught there, the biggest being a cod of around 18lb, but, like you said, it's a dangerous place to fish. My personal favourite place to fish is Morfa beach, it's the beach in front of the Steelworks in Margam, fish it near the Kenfig river and you won't be disappointed, best fished on 11m tides, 2hrs either side of low water at night.

[AnonyMice]

Caught a huge dogfish ( I think ) when I was about 14 fishing over a pier. It snapped the line just as I reeled it up. Was biggest fish I’d ever seen at the time and scared the life out of me for a second  was used to catching small pollocks and mackerel, I think I used one of them as bait.. that’s probably what done it. 

Have a thousand fishing memories. Can’t put them into words rn but enjoying reminiscing them. Glad I came across this thread 

[Michael Luchóg]

I remember looking at men's fly boxes when I was a small child and to me they were like an intense and colourful box of shells ,different bullets with lots of colour and no large ,lure like reservoir (foreign flies) ,mostly small sizes . 

I have so many great and never to re-occur fishing memories. I've cast flies in wild places that only a mad man would walk ,trudge ,climb and fall through and haven't been fished ,or haven't been fished in a decade or more  .I sometimes get golf or tennis elbow from casting .Last year I clearly saw a trout see my fly before it almost landed on the water and my eye caught the fish move up and hit the fly just over the water ,not a first but it not a fluke .Sometimes a trout rises beside a boat and the artificial fly lands at the right place and time but this felt as if time slowed . Since then I watched a bit over bridges and tested the science regarding the view from a trout's eyes and they still might not be able to see straight in front and above when the light doesn't change suddenly or a quick movement ,but they only need some tiny movement to be spooked ,generally ,a change in the light and of course they can move and their eyes move so they can see very well ,probably better than humans .  What I've been doing is throwing tiny tufts of fluff off bridges to rising sprats .Little pieces of moss ,a rolled up piece of feather ,knowing the trout might check it out and refuse on closer inspection ,but they can see it in the air ,descending down ,and straight in front of them. As a child I'd do the same with pieces of sweet wrappers on the way home from school .  

When I was a teenager ,late nineties,well I caught three large trout on a small river ,on a sunny day in July . I used a sedge I'd only learned to tie by undoing patterns I'd bought in a fishing store .One of the trout that day was just over 3lb and I've caught several thousand on the same river since and haven't landed one over 1.5lb since . 

 

[audioaddict]

My Pike fishing year so far can be summarised by one absolute clusterfuck of a session from last few weeks.

 

I have got my local canal under my skin a little.

It is a regular venue of mine, especially in the winter for predators.

 

Due to work and such, the first few months of Pike season (Oct onwards) last year yielded little real opportunity to fish, beyond the odd, short lure chucking spree.

The last Pike I had from the cut was a jack of a few pounds in November last year, so I promised this year I was gonna redouble my efforts to catch a decent croc from the canal, also explore a few "new" spots aswell, before end of season.

 

Jan was a bit of a non starter, finally got a nice back to back two days off work early Feb, and set about planning for a two day deadbait fest in a nice new spot I have had my eyes on.

The new stretch includes a basin/turnaround thing where the canal is a lot wider and a bit deeper than usual, I theorise there should be silvers shoaled up there during the colder months, therefore some Pike will be lurking about too.

 

It has a nearby bridge as a plan B swim, and a decent canalside boozer on the bike ride home!

 

 

Day one was almost smooth sailing, at least for the journey to the canal, a short bike ride of about 20 mins to get on the canal, then another 10-15 along the towpath to my spot of choice.

Keeps me fit!

 

Got to the spot, had grabbed some food on the way, and was looking forward to getting my bait in the water, eating something then pouring a coffee from my flask and rolling a fat one to commence a proper day off!

 

This all went well, until I realised I had forgotten to pack a lighter.

Not one, anywhere in my kit.

No passers-by to bum a light off, bit of a mad spot!

 

Need to get one anyway, gonna be here a while.

 

Sooo, packed up and settled on riding back to the pub (also the location of the nearest newsagents) and then fishing the stretch by the pub instead of wasting time coming all the way back again.

Day 2 could be focused on the basin, I thought.

I was annoyed, but hadn't yet caught sight of just how much my day had already gone to shit.

 

The ride back was a bit gruelling, I hadn't packed my rods down properly in the impatience to get moving again, and it wasn't long that, between this and an injured finger (twatted it with a rubber mallet in work, fingernail hanging on for dear life!), I was strugging to maintain any kind of balance and momentum on my bike... I must have looked like a modern day Charlie Chaplin or something!

 

The ride back seemed a lot further than I thought, and when I got to the pub stretch I was immediately greeted by the sight of a fun, family kayaking day out occuring right outside the pub.

The pub stretch is short, sandwiched between two tasty looking bridges, the kayak party was concerning me that I might have to change swim again, but I just went and got a lighter, had a spliff away from view... calmed my self and got back to it.

 

Retrieved my fishing gear from the pub beer garden where I had stashed it and set off toward the further bridge, away from the frolickers.

 

Got nice and settled, all my gear in place, picked up deadbait rod and, instead of under arming the rig delicately into position just off some tree roots, I space rocketed my rig straight into the tree itself.

 

Awesome.

Had to pull for a break, which occured just above the trace, spilling the float and inline lead into the canal, but leaving a half mackerel suspended tantalisingly from a tree branch, on a wire trace with two treble hooks.

 

I spent the next ten or so minutes pacing around, staring across the canal, swearing at across the canal, swearing at myself and other things that might have contributed to the kayakers all now getting out of the canal... I dunno.

I was now solely fixated on getting what is essentially a baited snare out of the tree on the opposite bank, and upon seeing the kayakers leaving the water I started off toward them with some half baked idea of retrieving my rig via boat.

 

I got a good way toward them before the context of the situation hit me! How do I appear to them? How do I word this?

 

They seemed a very clean cut, middle class, churchgoer type of family having a nice day out in their family kayaks.

I seem like a lunatic, scruffily dressed like a vaguely ex-military hobo, setting up strange equipment on the canal, and has been acting erratically for the past 15 minutes at least.

 

"Ey mate, lend's yer boat" seemed about as appropriate as me expecting them to go and retrieve a wiry, hooky, gory fish mess out a tree on my behalf.

 

So I stopped bearing down on them, and retreated back to my original plan of seeing if I could somehow spiderman my way across the outside of, what turned out to be, a railway bridge, or swim across... why didn't I bring my waders? FFS! I will in future..!

Or... I could... go around... to the builders yard opposite and climb over the wall! Yes!! That;s it!!

 

Nope, it wasn't.

The builders where actually quite accomodating, once they realised I wasn't trying to steal shit, but I could not get over or reach due to excessive use of razor wire.

 

Back to my original position, on the towpath, opposite the tree.

It was then I had an absolute lightning strike of an idea.

Sure to work!

 

I set up my heavy casting rod, casting reel loaded with 80lb braid, got a nice heavy swim bait/stinger combo on there and set about casting the lure directly at the suspended deadbait tree situation, hoping to snag it and yoink it back.

 

The heavy braid will resist all but the thicker branches, as long as my casting was accurate I should at least not lose my lure to the tree aswell.

 

My casting wasn't particularly accurate, I have to say, my arms where getting heavy at this point.

 

Though most shots where just falling short, or a little wide and I was able to drop the lure into the canal each time.

Getting frustrated, but aso getting closer.

It would be funny if I got a bite now!

 

I had been incrementally shuffling closer to the bridge, to get a better angle and a better view as each close shot was spinning the bait slightly.

I didn't realise that an entire flock of pigeons had been nervously watching proceedings from their roosts under the bridge, getting more and more anxious as angry man with big stick got ever closer.

Their anxiety turned into full on panic when I strode purposefully right over to the bridge for a good old side shot, I swung the rod back, clicked off the bail arm and launched my lure straight through about 20 birds as they all completely freaked and fled en masse straight across my swim.

 

It was a weird slo mo moment as one of them hit my line, got tangled up, panicked even more and dropped straight into the water.

 

"Fucking stupid thing" I yelled at it as it fell.

Had to carefully wind it back in, scoop it out of the canal and pin it to stop its flapping about whilst I unravelled all of the goddamned tangly mess of braided line and bird feathers.

 

It was at this point I realised I had somewhat of an audience.

The kayakers where still down the other end, clearly looking on concerned, and some dude walked past me and made the comment of all comments;

 

"Well, at least ya caught something"

 

I had never felt the burning desire to violently ram a live pigeon down a mans throat before that moment.

 

Got the thing unravelled and freed without further incident, it flew off strong enough and will, like me, likely only have lasting mental scars to show for the encounter.

 

I went straight back to launching my lure at the tree, with renewed vigour this time.

Nothing else mattered, fuck all the people watching.

Fuckers!

I was probably muttering loudly to myself at this point.

 

Thankfully, it wasn't much longer before I actually got the bastard!

My nerves where starting to get a bit frayed.

Hooked right onto the trace though, got everything back including the bait!

 

The trace was destroyed, it had been wrapped so tight it was coiled like a spring and was no longer usable, but I still set up a new rig and got that bait back into the swim out of pure spite!

 

There where more events a bit later, such as losing the original, damaged trace on the towpath, after all of the trauma of getting it out of the tree I am not about to leave it here for a dog to get hold of.

FFS!!!!!!

 

Cue me on all fours, searching the ground around my bag like a detective trying to find evidence.

Of course, the quiet canalside turned into a procession of passers-by at that point, an interesting assortment of funny looks I will say!

 

Oh yeah, also managed to cast my entire lure rod and reel into the canal, by virtue of diminshed wrist strength and forgetting to take off the bail arm.

Whack! Ping!! Rod jumps out of hand and into fairly deep margin, only an ad hoc MMA deathmove that saw me hit the deck like I had just been shot and punching my hand into the water managed to save me from ending my day with a bit of a dip!

 

My word, some well deserved pints where had very shortly after.

 

Still no Pike. Day 2 was cut down to an afternoon/evening and yielded nothing... but I did see a good few fish rising and jumping through the basin come evening time, still may be a good shout!

 

Hopefully back at it tomorrow.

 

===========================

 

E2A - Holy shit that is an essay, sorry, it came spewing out like that!

Edited February 19 by audioaddict