On Friday morning I got in my car and drove down the A21 and it took me to Bewl Water which is a proper very large lake. I didn't mean to but I ended up hiring a boat with an outboard and I set off with a mixture of apprehension and exhilaration - a true feeling of freedom. I had my fly rod but it's a huge stretch of water and you don't know where the fish are. Lots of Polish voices from the other boats. Polish people love fishing. In some boats were whole families. Four hours.. nothing. I had an inspiration. Go to where the other boats are and fish there. Duh ...
So I cruise/chug/meander to the other side of the lake, next to Chingley Wood. I put a black beaded fly on my floating line. Within ten minutes I had a really good take but I lost the fish, which happens a lot with fly fishing. People around me, mainly Polish, were spinning for trout. They were catching fish ... a good sign. I put on another black lure with a metal body which looked like an imitation fish and started casting. It's good in a boat because you always cast with the wind behind you. I am still not a very good caster and it helps. Two minutes later ... kapow ... there's no mistaking a big fish on the line and it's not like hooking a fat carp at the bottom of pond, it has speed and muscle. My rod bent over as I played it (keep the rod upright remember) It sped out into the lake, I brought it in. You don't want to snap the the line. It headed under the boat ... It's a compromise because you need to play the fish hard enough to tire it out but not so hard that the line snaps, which would be terrible.
Another English guy came in his boat by who had seen my fishing earlier and given me some tips. He told me that the Polish fishermen come and ‘thrash’ the water where other people are catching and empty the lake of fish ... ridiculous prejudice ... they are also said to be poachers and to use drift lines. Poles don't have a good rep in the fishing world ... He saw me wresting with the trout and he said, so there is a fish in the lake then. It was the hardest fighting fish I had ever caught. I was so relieved when I landed it with a rather large net. Three-pounder. It seemed to make sense of the frustration of the rest of the day - the long car journey, the feeling that I didn't really know what I was doing.
Great satisfaction. I know it could be said to be cruel (I killed the fish and ate it later) but it felt like a mini wilderness experience, something that is completely lacking from my life ... challenge, a little bit of jeopardy. Normally, the most challenging thing in my life is the photocopier running out of paper. Later, I drifted into the dam wall and had to be rescued, towed back across the lake in a larger boat with a bigger engine. My head was full of light. Freedom.
So I cruise/chug/meander to the other side of the lake, next to Chingley Wood. I put a black beaded fly on my floating line. Within ten minutes I had a really good take but I lost the fish, which happens a lot with fly fishing. People around me, mainly Polish, were spinning for trout. They were catching fish ... a good sign. I put on another black lure with a metal body which looked like an imitation fish and started casting. It's good in a boat because you always cast with the wind behind you. I am still not a very good caster and it helps. Two minutes later ... kapow ... there's no mistaking a big fish on the line and it's not like hooking a fat carp at the bottom of pond, it has speed and muscle. My rod bent over as I played it (keep the rod upright remember) It sped out into the lake, I brought it in. You don't want to snap the the line. It headed under the boat ... It's a compromise because you need to play the fish hard enough to tire it out but not so hard that the line snaps, which would be terrible.
Another English guy came in his boat by who had seen my fishing earlier and given me some tips. He told me that the Polish fishermen come and ‘thrash’ the water where other people are catching and empty the lake of fish ... ridiculous prejudice ... they are also said to be poachers and to use drift lines. Poles don't have a good rep in the fishing world ... He saw me wresting with the trout and he said, so there is a fish in the lake then. It was the hardest fighting fish I had ever caught. I was so relieved when I landed it with a rather large net. Three-pounder. It seemed to make sense of the frustration of the rest of the day - the long car journey, the feeling that I didn't really know what I was doing.
Great satisfaction. I know it could be said to be cruel (I killed the fish and ate it later) but it felt like a mini wilderness experience, something that is completely lacking from my life ... challenge, a little bit of jeopardy. Normally, the most challenging thing in my life is the photocopier running out of paper. Later, I drifted into the dam wall and had to be rescued, towed back across the lake in a larger boat with a bigger engine. My head was full of light. Freedom.
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