Bygone Times Re-visited

[Liphook]

Thanks for posting the excellent articles SO I chuckled at "silver-scaled dustbin"! Can anyone offer any clues as to the identity of the rod in the last picture?

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from FISHING - The Magazine For The Modern Angler, No.8. Friday, April 12, 1963. Price: One Shilling.

One man's specimen...
CLIFF GLENTON discusses aspects of specialization

ANGLING is a sport that can be exacting, exasperating and yet thoroughly enjoyable, a sport which has its full share of specialists -- the matchman and the specimen hunters. One the face of it these two groups are a world apart. Yet isn't there a similarity? Let's have a look at the matchman's game first.
In all-in matches every fish which can be dropped into a net counts, so success often comes to the angler with most small fish. Yet in many of these matches it is the "species hunter" who wins. He concentrates on catching roach, dace or even bleak in the mid or upper water.
At the next peg, his rival may be working just as hard, trotting the bottom, with large baits more to the liking of the larger fish he expects to find there. He may not mind what species he finds, but he can be just as entitled to describe himself as a specimen-hunter.
The more popular conception of specimen-hunter is, of course the angler who concentrates on catching large fish exclusively, whether on his own or in company with a group of friends with similar aims.
He is, of course, a species hunter too. He does not merely hope for something big. If he is after carp, he builds up his store of knowledge about the fish. His tactics and his tackle are specifically for carp.
The single-mindedness of this specimen-hunter will have its rewards from time to time, but it is not a waste of time if a specimen is not caught every week, or even every season. To him, it is never a waste of time to spend his weekends in a favoured swim, waiting for a truly big fish.
The same applies if he is concentrating on chub or barbel. By studying the habits, location and local conditions of his quarry he is able to fish or one species and no other. It is this discrimination that pinpoints the true specimen-hunter.
Angling journals are littered with instances of anglers catching specimen fish. A chap out fishing for carp catches a huge bream and is mooted as a hero; and so is a bream angler who lands a big carp on light tackle. In fact, both captures should be attributed to chance rather than specimen-hunting as it really is.
Don't label the specimen-hunter as selfish because he may keep the location of a particular water to himself. It takes very little to turn a secluded pond or stretch of quiet river into a miniature lido.
A friend of mine won a prize rod for a specimen fish many years ago. The river was not popular, fishing being hard and often fruitless. Without a thought of the consequences he named the location of his catch, and was horrified to find, a week or so after publication, anglers sitting every few yards along his beloved bank. Even today, though specimen fish are indeed a rarity, he finds it difficult to get into a swim there.
Being a specimen-hunter doesn't necessarily take up more time than other forms of angling, though it is more realistic, of course, to be careful in the choice of hours. Dedication and application are essentials, too, but don't label the specimen-hunter a fanatic, just because he puts more thought and care than most into his angling.
Remember that in the interest of angling, the specimen-hunter does not always keep his knowledge to himself. Many less active anglers share his adventures through the medium of the angling press.
And if he declines, politely or otherwise, to lay everything on for you to join him at his favourite swim, he rarely fails to help the uninitiated.
Results alone are not the yard-stick by which anglers measure their satisfaction. There is a personal contentment, that comes from being by the water and wetting a line. Whether match or pleasure angler, wife-dodger or specimen-hunter, let us have rivalry without animosity, tolerance without malice.

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from ANGLING, Written by anglers for anglers - May 1977 Price: 35p

"Touch Legering"
by Tony Miles

THERE is no doubt in my mind that, used under the right conditions, touch-legering is the most effective of all legering bite-detection methods. No other form of bite detection can approach its sensitivity, and once you have learned how to differentiate between the various signals the line imparts to your fingers, a whole new dimension is added to your fishing.
When I tell less experienced anglers than myself of the success I have with touch-legering, they usually get the impression that I've given them the formula for instant success. Of course, that's not so. It's not a magical method of bite detection, and it's only as good as the man behind the rod. It will not catch fish that aren't there, or that have been frightened by either the angler showing himself to the fish, or by incorrect and clumsy bait presentation. It takes a great many fishing hours to master the technique properly, and this is the reason why few anglers persevere, plus the fact that they usually try it on a day when all else has failed to produce a bite, which is not really a fair assessment. When you are learning to touch-leger, it is best to start off on a river where bites are plentiful, and on a day when fishing conditions are good. A river containing a large head of small-to-medium-size chub is an ideal nursery for the infant touch-legerer.
As far as the actual technique is concerned, opinions differ as to the right way of touch-legering. As in many other things in angling, there is no right way or wrong way of doing it. There is only a best way, and that is the way with which you feel the most comfortable, and can use most efficiently. Some anglers -- and I have assumed I am talking about right-handed people -- hold the line between finger and thumb of the left hand, the hand being about a foot from the rod. When a pluck is felt, the line can be released, giving a foot or so of slack for the fish to take before the strike is made. Others hold the line over the index finger of the left hand, or again between finger and thumb, only this time very close to the butt ring, so that no slack at all is given to the biting fish. For right-handed angles, feeling for bites with the left hand appears to be by far the most popular method of touch-legering, which is just as I expect, since I usually use my right hand! This is how.
Having cast the bait into the required position, I close the bale arm of the reel and take in a little line until the bait-arm roller is at its farthest point from the rod. I then catch the line with the index finger of my right hand (the hand holding the rod) and draw the line up under the rod handle. The line is then making a "V" between butt ring to finger to reel, and releasing the finger creates a few inches of slack. By keeping the finger loose, I have no problem in detecting bites and also differentiating between various types of bite. A good solid bite, for instance from a chub or barbel, will pull the finger down quite definitely, and it's a simple matter to straighten it before striking. It's important, in this instance, not to be holding the line too firmly. If you are, there can be a tendency to strike with your finger still trapping the line. With a firm bite, there is then the danger of breaking on the strike, with the finger acting as a fulcrum. A more delicate bite will also register, either by continually tweaking your finger, or by vibrating, buzzing, or slackening the line. With experience, you get to learn what species of fish are responsible for the various bites.
Chub bites, for example, usually consist of an initial fairly firm pluck on the line, followed by a nice, slow pull which is virtually impossible to miss. Occasionally, however, you do get the chub that pecks at the bait without giving a pull. This bite consists of a series of slow plucks on the line, and sometimes these plucks can be so delicate that they do not move the rod tip. I must emphasize at his point that, as I've said before, most of the chub I catch give good solid bites, and it's a mistake in my experience to strike at the first pluck. It's much better to wait for the pull which usually follows. But I'm always prepared for the eventuality of a chub coming along that doesn't take my bait firmly. If, after two or three plucks, nothing further develops, then I hit it.
One of the most interesting fish so far as tough-legering is concerned, is the barbel, as barbel bites present several interesting variations. It has to be said straight away that, on the rivers from which I catch by barbel (Dorset Stour, Avon, Thames, Seven and Kennet) 90 per cent of the fish require no form of delicate bite detection whatsoever, as they would pull the rod in if you let them! So it is the remaining 10 per cent with which I am concerned for the purposes of this article. These bites take two main forms, either slack-liners or a fast buzzing vibration on the line. With barbel fishing, slack-line bites aren't only confined to upstream legering. I've had several barbel which have given me this type of bite indication when downstream legering in the normal way. I've found that of all fish, barbel seem most prone to moving upstream with a bait. Once you know what to expect, these bites are unmistakable. As you're usually fishing fairly fast water for barbel the line is nice and tight over your finger, and a sudden release of tension in the line is very obvious. I've found that, as a general rule, barbel that take a bait in this manner do so confidently, and an immediate strike is usually successful in hooking the fish. I remember a 6.5lb barbel I caught on the Kennet at 2 am one day. The first indication I got from that fish was that I suddenly couldn't feel the line anymore. Although I struck immediately, I found that the hook was right at the back of the fish's throat.
To my mind, the most enjoyable touch-legering is to be had after dark. The feel of the line tugging at your finger when all around you is blackness is a thrill of which I can never tire. These days, I usually use a beta-light taped on to the rod top in conjunction with touch-legering, and this, I find, adds the final touch of fascination to the proceedings.
Imagine a very dark, still night. The line is lying quite limp on your finger, and all you can see, apart from vague shadows, is a bright spot of light on your rod top. All is quiet and tranquil. Suddenly the line tightens on your finger and, in the next instant, that spot of light miraculously dips downwards. As you strike, your pulse races to the lunge of a big chub or the irresistible power of a barbel, as the fish surges off into the darkness. Man, that's really living!
Really, that sums up the whole reason why I touch-leger, that feeling of close contact with the fish. Sure, it's very efficient, but that's not the main reason why I do it. I touch-leger because I enjoy it. I need no better reason than that.

[Wanderer]

Nice articles, Gents.
Thanks for posting.

[AllRounder]

A nice read John thanks for posting

[Wally Roy]

Very interesting and enjoyable read.

[Stour Otter]

Editorial from: FISHING - The Magazine For The Modern Angler, No. 32. Friday, September, 1963. Price: One Shilling.

Dad! . . Mum says you mustn't use that word
. . . or FISHING WITH DAD, by Cliff Parker

"I'M glad I'm going fishing with you, Dad. It's a long time since you took me. That was the time you fell in, wasn't it, Dad? Telling me to watch where I was treading along the bank. I know I shouldn't have laughed. Was that why you clouted me, Dad?"
"I'm sorry we missed that first bus, Dad: I couldn't help it, I had to go. Still we caught the next one, didn't we? Was all that rain the dribble that the weather man talked about on the telly last night? He said we'd have dribble this morning and a deep defression. What's a defression?
"Is it far to the canal now, Dad? My fishing set's getting very heavy. Your big basket must be heavy, Dad. Is it heavier than my fishing set?
"Who made the fishes, Dad? Did He? Clever old God. Did he make the fishes we eat, too, Dad? You know, there are fishes that we eat and fishes that we catch. Did He? He must have to work very hard, Dad, making all those fishes and grass and flowers and our Janet.
"Here's the bridge, Dad. Shall we fish here? Shall I open my fishing set now?
"We've come a long way from the bridge, haven't we, Dad? Why don't we stop here? Why can't we -- oh, all right . . . Why didn't we fish under the bridge, Dad? Why don't fishes drown under the water? What makes rainbows? Why don't ducks sink? When can we open the sandwiches, Dad?
"Here, Dad? Right: I'll open my fishing set and you can put it together for me, eh? Will you put the maggot on for me, Dad? Why does it wriggle? Doesn't it like it? Can maggots breathe under water? Ow! -- that went right in your finger, didn't it, Dad? Mum said you mustn't use that word in front of me. Don't worry, Dad, I won't tell her . . . How do you say it?
"Right, Dad, watch me cast. Here we go with a one -- two . . . Will you get my line off those branches, Dad? Right . . . in we go with a splish-splash-splash. Is this a bite, Dad? When the float goes bob-bob-bob . . . STRIKE!!! Will you get my line off those branches, Dad. I should have waited for the float to go under, shouldn't I? Haven't you got your line fixed up yet, Dad? You are slow.
"That was a good cast, Dad. You are clever. Right over to the other side. Did you mean to land it in that tree? Bob-bob-bob . . .STRIKE!!! Dad-dad-dad! I've got-a-fish - I've-got-a-fish!
"Can you get the hook out, Dad? I didn't mean to hit you in the face with it. Isn't it a whopper, Dad? Is it a pike? A gudgeon? A gudge-gudge-gudgeon! The biggest gudgeon in the world!
"You have a go with yours, now, Dad. I won't pester you any more . . . could you get my line off those branches, Dad?
"Oh, look, Dad . . . two swans. Aren't they pretty? They must be tame . . . look, they're swimming right over your float. Dad! . . that's cruel! And mum says you mustn't use that word in front of me. How do you say it?
"Bob-bob-bob and a . . . STRIKE!!!
Dad-I've-got-another! Can you get my line and the fish out of those branches, Dad? It's in a real tangle this time, isn't it? You are clever, Dad. When I'm old I'll be able to untangle lines, I bet. That's two fish I've got now, isn't it, Dad? You haven't got any yet, have you?
"You know all about fishing, don't you, Dad? You went fishing in the olden days when you were little. Was that after the Romans came?
"Dad, if you know all about fishing, why aren't you catching any fish? Dad. I said if you know all about . . . All right, not one more word. Not one. I was only asking . . . yes Dad.
"STRIKE!!! Dad I've got another! Oh, he's stuck on the branches. Can you get him off, Dad, and your float's gone under. Can you undo that bit? Your float's not come up yet. I said it's not come up yet. Your float. Yes, it went under, I told you. Oh . . . you missed it . . .
"Why are you packing up, Dad? You said we were going to fish for a whole day. You haven't even caught a fish yet. Can I come next week, then? Can I? Can I, Dad?
"Mum says you mustn't use that word in front of me . . ."


ANYONE who has ever taken a boy fishing will appreciate Cliff Parker's recollections. They'll also appreciate that not every such outing ends disastrously. There are those days when it becomes plain that the youngster is learning, perhaps like young David Hughston, seen here with his father, Eric, beside a Cheshire mere. And once he starts to learn, there's only one thing to watch -- that he doesn't start to outfish Dad!

[Grumpy]

[Dave F]

Thank you for posting… I’m still smiling…

[Liphook]

Excellent!