I'm looking back merrily upon tackle dipping days as I'm preparing to set sail on a resumption into the world's favourite participation sport or pastime, call it what you will. I still have much of my bait and tackle stored in the garage, most of it probably outlawed and requiring substitution now so I will be making an early visit to one of the many nearby fishing tackle shop in the area, and for some of the more usual equipment, a web bait and tackle site.
The 1st time I went fishing was with my dad and his brother who was a very keen fishernman, to a gravel pit near St Albans when I was something like 8 years old. I can't remember much about it, but I did hook a couple of dace which I was highly satisfied with. I say that 'I' caught, of course in reality my farther set up my bait and tackle and my uncle showed me how to cast so that was about the boundary of my ability. I seem to remember that that weekend I was also modelling my 1st fur lined parka jacket. The things you remember eh?
In my early teenage I became very enthusiastic and I was part of a gang of mates who would go to our village ponds on a Tuesday and Thursday after school. And, if I wasn't playing football or rugby, I would go for the day on a Saturday. And if I was I'd try and go for the afternoon after the game if I could.
A lot of my bait and tackle was pretty old and second-hand. Our village didn't boast a dedicated fishing tackle shop though we could go to a mini department store that kept a small choice. For bigger and superior stuff you had to go into Guildford. We also didn't have somewhere close by that sold maggots, so fairly often bait concoctions would appear, and hunting worms was a pretty important undertaking.
We also used to go out to a minor river at the outskirts of the village which was fairly risky since we permits for it but it was always good entertainment if you could secure a quality swim. I remember once getting into a shoal of gudgeon and having thirty minutes of amusement pulling them out and releasing them again in an almost continual motion. I know veggies, I know, not much amusement for the fish but then again, being a wild fish isn't much fun at any time as far as I can tell. And when I went home I did chuck in the remainder of my bait for them to eat without risk.
Those were great times, I remember vividly the old lady who lived down the road from the fisheries that we had to call on first to get a day permit and walking around the two ponds to see who was already there, selecting a pitch if ones favourite was not taken and then getting the bait and tackle sorted out for the day and getting the first cast of the day out into the water. Then later, the excitement as somebody hooked into a pike, everybody gathering round offering advice on how best to play it and then hope to be the lucky one to be asked to hold the landing net as it comes into the bank.
Those were happy days, an early time when as kids we would let out to make our own entertainment, no trouble, no tomfoolery or annoying other people. I do wonder how many kids at the age now that we were then would be allowed to do that. I don't know, but I expect it's not so straightforward now.
20101213
The 1st time I went fishing was with my dad and his brother who was a very keen fishernman, to a gravel pit near St Albans when I was something like 8 years old. I can't remember much about it, but I did hook a couple of dace which I was highly satisfied with. I say that 'I' caught, of course in reality my farther set up my bait and tackle and my uncle showed me how to cast so that was about the boundary of my ability. I seem to remember that that weekend I was also modelling my 1st fur lined parka jacket. The things you remember eh?
In my early teenage I became very enthusiastic and I was part of a gang of mates who would go to our village ponds on a Tuesday and Thursday after school. And, if I wasn't playing football or rugby, I would go for the day on a Saturday. And if I was I'd try and go for the afternoon after the game if I could.
A lot of my bait and tackle was pretty old and second-hand. Our village didn't boast a dedicated fishing tackle shop though we could go to a mini department store that kept a small choice. For bigger and superior stuff you had to go into Guildford. We also didn't have somewhere close by that sold maggots, so fairly often bait concoctions would appear, and hunting worms was a pretty important undertaking.
We also used to go out to a minor river at the outskirts of the village which was fairly risky since we permits for it but it was always good entertainment if you could secure a quality swim. I remember once getting into a shoal of gudgeon and having thirty minutes of amusement pulling them out and releasing them again in an almost continual motion. I know veggies, I know, not much amusement for the fish but then again, being a wild fish isn't much fun at any time as far as I can tell. And when I went home I did chuck in the remainder of my bait for them to eat without risk.
Those were great times, I remember vividly the old lady who lived down the road from the fisheries that we had to call on first to get a day permit and walking around the two ponds to see who was already there, selecting a pitch if ones favourite was not taken and then getting the bait and tackle sorted out for the day and getting the first cast of the day out into the water. Then later, the excitement as somebody hooked into a pike, everybody gathering round offering advice on how best to play it and then hope to be the lucky one to be asked to hold the landing net as it comes into the bank.
Those were happy days, an early time when as kids we would let out to make our own entertainment, no trouble, no tomfoolery or annoying other people. I do wonder how many kids at the age now that we were then would be allowed to do that. I don't know, but I expect it's not so straightforward now.
20101213
