20 | 9 JULY anglersmail.com
JOHN BAILEY
You’ll always learn loads and be inspired by this vastly experienced traditional angler,
who also relishes exploring the latest coarse techniques... with help from his friends.JOHN BAILEY
You’ll always learn loads and be inspired by this vastly experienced traditional angler,
who also relishes exploring the latest coarse techniques... with help from his friends.Cock-ups and
catastrophes
L
AST week we had been
enjoying something of a
carp fest, having landed fi sh to
nearly 30 lb on our beefed-up
tench fl oat tactics.
On the third day, Ratters
hooked a fi sh that screamed
off, but he tried to play it too
hard and got busted. I laid into
him, but he was to have the last
laugh, by a big margin.
Half an hour later I latched
into a cracker that took off,
emptying the centrepin of
line and pulling me over into a
reeded margin.
To save myself, I let go of the
handle for a moment, but then
the rod spiralled into the lake
and disappeared fast, heading
towards the north. A hundred
yards away, a big common carp
crashed out of the water and
threw the hook out of its mouth,
the whole shebang slowly
sinking from view.
A prototype ’pin worth
£800 and my favourite and
totally irreplaceable 14 ft Hardy
Marksman fl oat rod both gone.
For two hours I looked for
the missing combo through
my binoculars, but I had to give
them up, as they were gone, lost
at sea, so to speak.
Cock-ups happen, but
you need to learn from your
mistakes. In this case, I was
guilty as hell, as I had not put on
enough line for the size of the
lake and the weight of the fi sh.
I should also have put real
pressure on the fi sh from the
moment I hooked it. That way,
the fi sh would not have had the
opportunity to work up a head
of steam.
Letting the rod leave my
hand, even though it was for
an instant, was unforgivable. I
should just have accepted my
fate and fallen into the drink.
So, you see, even after all
my decades at it, I still make
mistakes, as we all do.
Danger never goes on
holiday, and there is always a
catastrophe lurking.Broken rod misery
My story struck a chord
with editor Tim Knight. He
emailed me: “The worst tackle
accident I ever had was when I
slammed the car boot on a very
expensive, custom-made Bruce& Walker Hexagraph rod. I paid
hard-earned cash for it. It’s still
in the attic 15 years later, and I
cringe whenever I see it.”
I know how he feels. A year
ago I leaned another beloved
rod against my car, fl ipped the
remote locking device, and
watched in frozen horror as the
wing mirrors folded in, snapping
off the top six inches in the
process. Another £350 gone.
Years ago, in an Indian hotel
room, I watched travelling
companion Simon Channing
put together his custom-built
mahseer rod. He waggled it
about, stuck it up in the air and
the ceiling fan chopped it off
above the ferrule.
A catastrophe made worse by
the fact that he was 5,000 miles
away from the nearest fully
equipped tackle shop.
I wrote off three rods in bike
accidents when I was a kid, as I
was always cycling too fast.
30 years ago, when sharing
the same landing stage,
John Judge and I both struck
simultaneously at bream bites.
The rods met in mid-air withconsiderable force and we were
both left holding shattered
bottom sections. We went home
for an early supper.
The lesson? If it can happen,
it will. Always think your actions
through, and be prepared for the
unexpected.Over excitement
We’ve always done it. Desperate
to get bait in the water, we’ve
tangled our lines, made pathetic
casts and spilt bait, but the No.
prize must go to Pingers, JG and
I, when fi shing in Mongolia ten
years ago.
We saw a blooming great
taimen in a crystal-clear
backwater of the main river.
Newbie Pingers had fi rst cast
with a brand new £25 lure,
which he promptly deposited in
the forest on the other bank.
While he pulled for a break,
JG watched the aggressively
cruising fi sh, cast out and hit the
exact same tree fi r tree where
lure No.1 was hanging.
While JG tackled up again, I
had my go. I forgot to fl ick over
the bail arm and my lure landedWill I ever learn? No luck looking for that missing Marksman rod after it
was dragged in by a huge carp as I let go of the handle to save myself.
I might have had a go at Ratters for losing one carp, but this cracking
42-pounder is one that didn’t get away.