Bygone Times Re-visited

[Martin James]

Thank you for posting, I used to be able to purchase the perfect bread from a small bakers in Sussex where the bread was baked in brick ovens, not steamed like much of todays bread is, so I am told. I treasure the days and nights spent with Owen, Tag and other great anglers from the past. 1 still look back on my days on the Stour renting a punt from Newman's boathouse in Wimborne , in those days I used to take 2 buckets of well mashed bread along with 2 loafs as bait, wonderful times.

[Stour Otter]

Thank you for posting, I used to be able to purchase the perfect bread from a small bakers in Sussex where the bread was baked in brick ovens, not steamed like much of todays bread is, so I am told. I treasure the days and nights spent with Owen, Tag and other great anglers from the past. 1 still look back on my days on the Stour renting a punt from Newman's boathouse in Wimborne , in those days I used to take 2 buckets of well mashed bread along with 2 loafs as bait, wonderful times.

Thank you Martin.
One of my most thumbed books in my fishing library is "This Fishing" by L.A. Parker "Skipper". I am most fortunate to have a signed copy of his first edition.

On ground bait he writes;
"And now we come to ground-bait, the preparation of which, and quantity, being the most important items of Avon fishing. Without it you may as well stop at home and fish in the backyard. Spare neither time nor money in the preparation of this most important item. ONE LOAF ... I laugh! -- TWO LOAVES ...well, perhaps. Make it FOUR. I have taken as many as EIGHT loaves with me for a day's fishing when the water has been fast.

Then he goes on to say;
"The usual nine to a dozen balls are unless for a day's fishing in winter"

Stour Otter

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from FISHING - The Magazine For The Modern Angler, No.53. Friday, February 21, 1964. Price: One Shilling.

When you're legering, says C. R. GAMBLE
The 'trail' is all-important

THERE is very much more to legering than tying a hook on the end of the line, setting a running weight some way back from it, and casting the whole lot into the swim. No doubt some fish would be caught sometimes even by such a slap-dash approach (fish are like humans -- there are always a few fools among them), but to make the most of the method, you've got to pay a lot more attention to detail.
I think the one factor which can most often affect the catch, in species, is the length of the hook-link, trail or leader, and, further, that among experienced anglers there are a few who have a clear idea either of the importance of this point or of the factors to be considered in deciding it.
One meets so many anglers who always use a short trail, others who always leave it lengthy, and more still who stick to a medium length and probably end by losing the advantages of both extremes. There are, of course, plenty of occasions when the trail length does not matter at all, when fish are equally likely to be caught whatever length is used, but there are also conditions and circumstances when to use the wrong length will drastically reduce the prospects, and may leave one fishless.
Circumstances can arise where one is troubled by lots of small fish near the surface, and the only way to avoid them is to get the bait through the surface layers very quickly. Most methods leave the bait in the surface water for long enough for it to be worried by small fish; leger tackle with a trail no longer then an inch or two will ensure that the bait has the chance to attract the larger fish by taking it quickly to the bottom.
If, for example, the swim is a streamy one with extensive trailing weed, as many good chub swims are in the summer months, it may well be that a short trail will anchor the bait in an unpromising spot and keep it unseen. With a longer trail, the bait can roll with the currents to find a resting place, just as would an unattached item of food would. This is likely to be in a quiet spot in the protection of a stone, in an irregularity of the bed, perhaps sheltered beneath a long streamer of weed -- all places where the fish themselves are likely to be.
It can come about that during a day's fishing it is necessary to change the length of trail to cope with a change in the behavior of the fish. For example, fish which are initially feeding on the bottom may begin to come up in the water to take passing fragments of ground bait as they sink, and may remain there feeding on slowly-sinking pieces. A short trail would then place the bait well below them, stationary, where it would be ignored, whereas a long trail would leave the bait to sink slowly, long after the weight had hit bottom.
When worms are the bait, I think a longer trail is usually advisable, as most fish have a tweak at the free end of the worm before taking it. This exploratory nibble will register on a short-trail tackle and usually will result in a missed strike. With a longer trail one can more safely hit the first indication. In general, however, shy-biting fish call for the shortest of trails; this gives an earlier and more definite indication. At the same time, of course, the fish will feel drag earlier and a quick strike is essential.
The big secret of hitting on the right length of trail lies in the ability to visualize the fish in their surrounding, the way in which the fish are behaving, and suiting the method to conditions as they are. But no-one can be right every time, and when sport slackens or ceases for no readily apparent reason, it pays to experiment with the trail length. It can so often be the crucial factor.

[Martin James]

Stour Otter yes I to have the book, one in the book case never comes out, the other next to my desk where I will read some pages every week.

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from ANGLING, February 1970. Price: Three Shillings and Sixpence.

Bring back hemp! by B. Harding

I READ with great interest your December issue and particularly the article by Peter Stone on "Throop Today".
His comments concerning Ernie Leah are so true. Ernie is the most helpful manager one could meet. When we were newcomers to Throop he walked the bank with us from one end of Throop to the other, pointing out swims and precise casting points.
However, there are points in Peter Stone's article which, to put briefly, do not record the true facts. For example he says; "that because of the use of hemp one could no longer see the chub and stalk them." What utter rubbish.
In the season '66 to '67 we fished with hemp and caught 15 barbel to 7lb. When the barbel were not feeding we went after chub with floating crust and they were "suicidal". They could be clearly seen and stalked and it made a long relief from the serious barbel fishing. A 4.5lb chub came in like a wet sack, compared to a 3lb. barbel, both on 3.5lb line and a Mk4 Avon rod. The period to which I refer is two weeks from the middle to the end of July.
We travel to Throop to catch barbel; we caught barbel on hemp and did not get plagued with dace and eels, or chub.
Since '67-'68 we have caught half the quantity of barbel, but better fish, on cheese. Of course we catch more chub. Chub don't eat hemp; it is as simple as that. We don't want chub, we want barbel. While chub and eels are taking cheese the chances of barbel getting the bait are reduced.
We shall never recover from the bitter disappointment of the hemp ban.

[Rutilus]

'Chub don't eat hemp'? Well they must have changed somewhat nowadays

[SussexMan]

Interesting about Mr Olley at Throop; I wonder when the renowned Ernest Leah took over from him...?

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from: FISHING - The Magazine For The Modern Angler, No. 94. Friday, December 4, 1964. Price: One Shilling.

Accidents will happen
by EWAN CLARKSON

I HAVE fallen on two occasions this season. In each case it was my own fault, for I was galloping along, looking at the water instead of where I was going. My centre of gravity is too high, a physical fault which, when I was studying judo, my opponents were quick to take advantage of. It is impossible, however, to do a judo fall when carrying rucksack, fishing rod, and landing-net, so in each accident I left a considerable portion of my pelt on the rocks.
It occurred to me, however, that such a slip could be fatal. A healthy man, and a strong swimmer, could easily drown in 6 in. of water, let alone 6 ft., if he hits his head when falling, and knocked himself out. It is easy too, when heavily laden, to break a leg or arm, and the shear pain and shock could cause one to faint.
If you read the papers, you might be forgiven for believing that summertime was a danger time for accidents such as this. In point of fact, summertime is a safe time in the country. The accident rate soars simply because there are then more people to have accidents. Now is the danger time for anglers, from now until the end of the season.
This is the time for mud, for banks slippery with wet clay, and treacherous from fallen leaves. Now is the time when banks, undermined in the hot months, become heavy with rain and collapse under your weight. Now is the time for ice, for rocks slimy with moss and algae.
Now is the time, too, for floods, when the gentle, meandering stream becomes a torrent of brown water and floating debris, when your favourite swim is lost, along with the towpath, so that you are forced to squeeze under the overhanging alders to reach a spot, unfamiliar, where you can fish an eddy.
Now, too, the lone angler is overjoyed to find he has the whole river to himself. Gone are the boats, day trippers, courting couples, the family with their transistor set, the fine-weather anglers -- all the people, in fact, who would be able to help him if he had an accident. Now he is alone with the lapwings and the bullocks, and a fat lot of help they are!
It is the time of year when darkness comes too soon, long before you have had your fill of fishing. The way from the river, which only a few hours before had been a delightful stroll, now becomes a nightmare commando course, if you have lingered too long over the last cast. A winter's night spent out of doors is an ordeal for a healthy man, but it could be fatal for someone who is injured, especially if he is very young, or old.
You need to observe two rules; First, tell someone where you are going, and roughly what time you will be home. This saves worry, and cuts the time wasted looking for you. It is not much help to you, I know, if you have drowned yourself in the first five minutes by the water, but it is nice to think you will make a considerate corpse. The second rule, which I hope I have learned at last, is simple, but effective; Look where you are going -- unless, that is, you want to make headlines in the local rag.

[Grumpy]

Nearly sixty years on and still very relevant.I have had several close shaves over the years,including falling into a bank high Severn,I was very lucky to escape with a soaking.

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from FISHING - The Magazine For The Modern Angler, No.1. Friday, February 22, 1963. Price: One Shilling.

Consider the chub ...'Fickle and crafty
.. .a fighter every inch of the way to the landing-net'
says Johnathan Webb

THE latest estimate of the numbers of anglers in this country was about two and half million. But I wonder how many of these are confirmed chub hunters? They'll certainly be in the minority. On the other hand, we can be sure that many thousands are especially keen roach, pike, bream or carp fishermen, while others fish solely for trout or salmon or sea fish.
Sadly, however, true chub fishermen are few in number. If you don't believe me, just wonder along the river bank on your next outing and see how many -- or how few -- stalwarts are there actually fishing for chub, and chub alone -- provided, that is, that the water holds these fish. I estimate that you will find only about one in twenty. But you will find plenty of roach and bream men to whom the hooking of a chub is a major disaster, since this disturbs their swim.
The situation is ridiculous because the only man who can legitimately object to the chub is the man who has to eat one. When it comes to fishing for them, they are fickle, crafty, and fight every inch of the way to the landing net.
When you set out to catch chub, you automatically accept a roving commission. The chub fisherman is of necessity a wanderer who searches the shallows beneath the willows, the deep holes in the middle of the steam, the smooth glides created by half-submerged debris, and the caves among the tree roots growing at the water's edge. All these are the haunts of the wily chub, and to catch him you must match your cunning with his.
Consider awhile. As far as the angler is concerned, a chub will take practically anything; Pastes of all kinds and colours, cherries, worms of all breeds, gentles, chrysalis, natural and artificial flies, frogs, snails, slugs, grass-hoppers, minnows -- the silver-scaled dustbin will take practically anything you care to offer.
If follows that he gorges on natural foods with the same utter lack of discrimination. And this being so, we can account for his frequent fits of pique when he refuses to take anything at all -- for chub, as you will find, or have already found, can go off the feed with infuriating regularity.
I think this is because the chub is a fish whose stomach is rarely empty, because he simply never stops eating. So the successful chub hunter is one who can tempt his quarry to eat just that little bit more. To achieve this, the bait must look good, smell good and be presented in an attractive and natural manner.
In point of fact, it is the roach specialist who stands more chance of becoming a successful chub angler than perhaps any other angler. He already appreciates the inestimable value of a silent, stealthy approach to the waterside. He already knows that his clothing must blend with the background, and that if his, or his rod' shadow falls on the water, it will frighten the quarry.
In fact, if a roach man were to ask my advice on how to fish for chub, I would simply tell him: Use a 6lb line, instead of a 3lb: Use a No.8 or No.6 hook instead of a 12 or 14. Use paste and cheese bait twice as large as you might use for roach -- and if you use worms, use big worms.
Find water with character. Don't fish smooth, dull reaches, but seek chub in the spots where the water twists and gurgles, foams and bubbles -- under the bridge, at the edge of the weir pool, beneath the willows.
Fish where it's unusually deep and fish where it's shallow. Fish among the reed beds -- and never ignore the small turbulences where the meadows drain into the main river, for here is a splendid source of food for the ever-hungry chub, and a chance for you to offer him a pair of well-scoured lob worms or lively maggots.
And if the roach man should persist, and ask, "How will I know it's a chub I've hooked?"
. . . I would simply reply . . . "You'll know, all right, you'll know."