Sadly fishing has had to take a back seat over the last few weeks after the unexpected death of my mother. Although in her eighties, she was still very fit and active; she had been out shopping and was cooking dinner when she suffered heart failure.
Loosing somebody is always hard and it’s very easy to drop into a state of mourning, almost feeling sorry for yourself whist grieving your loss. I was determined not to let that happen and along with my brother and sisters we felt it was important to celebrate her life. We soon got round to talking about the things we did as kids, including some of the trips we used to make to The Broads to fish places like Horning Ferry and Upton Dyke. Our tackle was basic, to say the least; old rods my father had managed to get from friends, reels with barely any line, proper leads if the old man was flush or, if not, an old nut from his mates garage. We didn't float fish much in those days; it was always ledgering and watching the rod tip. I think my dad was an early user of the swimfeeder, in the picture of me and my father you can see a hair curler hanging below the bomb. I can remember my mum not being too impressed with father using her hair curlers for fishing. Over forty years later, it’s quite apt that I still use hair curlers to make my big river feeders – but not my mother’s, I will add!
In those early days, Father would give us two bob (10p) and with that we would get maggots, a bag of breadcrumb and a few hooks or leads enough for a day’s fishing. Mother would pack up the sandwiches, biscuits, a kettle and picnic stove and we would all pile into the Ford Prefect and off to the river. I owe my father so much when it comes to fishing; he sowed the seed all those years ago and I am positive my life would not have been so eventful and enjoyable had I not took up fishing thanks to Dad. As I got older and could look after myself, I would often get Mum to take me to spots on The Broads or The Wensum and leave me for the day. I had some great times, caught some memorable fish and developed a love of fishing that is still as strong today.
Once I learnt to drive then the whole world opens up, be it girls or fishing, not having to rely on Mum’s taxi gave total independence. Work hard and play hard was my motto in those days and still is, but I never let girls get in the way of fishing; I remember once having a serious falling out with a girl as she couldn't understand why it was more important I went fishing on The Wensum rather than see her – how glad I was I went fishing that day as a 3lb Wensum roach was my reward.
Without doubt the fish which changed my whole life was the barbel, I caught my first one back over 40 years ago now and I was hooked from day one and they have been my number one species ever since. I have had over 4,000 barbel from more than 35 rivers in seven different countries around the world in the last 40 years. I still find a great challenge in finding new rivers to catch them.
My own son has never shown much interest in fishing but my daughter did and had a great knack of out fishing me if ever I took her! She had her own tackle at one point but as life has gone on she has lost interest. Her daughter, my granddaughter Florence, is very keen and has spent a fair bit of time with me fishing and I think the seeds are sown for her – all I need to do is germinate that interest and you never know she could one day take up the art.
Both my mother and my father were always interested in my fishing; my mother kept press cuttings if I appeared in the local paper with a good catch and my father was always keen to know what I had caught, where, and how.
I owe both my parents so very much, they made me the person I am today, but I can also be very sure that had my father not taken me fishing in those early days and mother not supported my fishing then I would not be writing this for you today. Many of my friends I have today I met through fishing. This includes my partner, who is now my biggest supporter. When I am having a bad run, she encourages me and more often than not her support is all that is needed to turn a bad day into a good one. She is also a great photographer and many of the pictures I use to illustrate my articles and blogs are taken by her.
My dream had always been to own a house by the river, luckily that dream has come true. My mother was so looking forward to visiting us in France and sadly now that will never happen. I know for sure she would love it out here, she would be quite pleased she didn't have to pack up a couple of tins of sandwiches and the tea making kit, let alone worry about four kids by the river. I can see her now, sitting by the river in the sun, knitting me a new fishing jumper, drinking a cup of tea and enjoying the eve of her life.
I had to come back to England for a few days to help sort my mother’s affairs and I have to say, after a few difficult days, it was great to get back to France. I needed some time to clear my head, so I got out the stick float road and bread and decided to find if the chub were hungry and they were. I managed half a dozen nice chub in a couple of hours; my French mate joined me and took a nice picture for me. When I got home and checked the pictures, one of them reminded me of a picture I had, taken a few years ago it showed a nice bag of Wensum chub; I can always remember my mum having a copy of this picture in a scrapbook she kept.