H&C

“When I was a kid, I was very much like many anglers and really into the weights of big fish. Roach had to be two pounds, carp and pike twenty, barbel ten, chub five and so on. Right into my thirties I used to dream of holding a record – preferably the roach, pike, carp or barbel record. Something that would immortalise me - something that would put me in the record books. So guess what? Now, in mature middle-age when I couldn’t really give a damn, I’ve made it! The International Game Fish Association, based in Florida, has sent me my certificate and informed me that my catch has been awarded the All Tackle Line Class World Record. For what, you’re wondering? For a roach-bream hybrid! Yep. You’re right. Not even a true species. A bit of a mish-mash. A lovely fish, yes, and one that fought hard and deserves respect. Yes, all that and more but, I ask you, a hybrid. Hybrid champion of the world. I might form my own exclusive club I think.”

"It’s truly hard for non-anglers to realise the enormous waves of emotion that big fish landed and big challenges achieved provoke. Imagine this: one of your dearest friends catches the fish of a lifetime, a massive 98lb golden mahseer from a river deep in Southern India. It’s a fish he’s just wanted so long. He begins to cry. You begin to cry. We all begin to cry. Tears of the most profound sort - a mixture of relief, of congratulation and of sheer, unadulterated joy. It happens again. Tom – perhaps forty plus years older - is struggling. Then, in one blissful morning he lands four mighty mahseer. Four fish for over a 150lbs in weight. Again, our emotions over-wash. This is fishing at its very peak. It’s like achieving a summit, a piscatorial Everest. The beauty of the fish. The magnitude of the success. As a kid, starting out on an angling life this is how you dreamed one day it just might be."

"Typical. I pretty well cleared the decks of work so that I could have the Christmas / New Year period free to fish and to frolic! The desperate weather saw that plan doomed. Do you know, in all honesty, despite being on the waterside most days through this period, I don’t think I caught a fish. Not even an ever-obliging chub. Not even an ever-hungry jack pike! But there were always compensations. Glorious sunsets. Skeins of geese. The sight of a fox against a snow-carpeted field. Following the tracks of otters as they earn their living along the river bank. Watching mink catching small roach from the ice-free margins of a lake. And, with a mixture of awe and sadness, finding a carcase of a massive roach in the frozen rushes. Weighed, the fish was just half an ounce off the magical two pound mark but, had its body been totally intact, it would have cleared that hurdle with ease. What a giant. What a beauty. What a tragedy it is not still swimming free. This is the compensation of being an angler, whatever the weather. There is simply no better way to witness the natural world."

“The best laid plans of a fisherman get laid waste by the weather. A festive period after pike and roach were simply to be a dream after the ice and snow struck. Still, an interesting time. A visit to a lake ringed by an otter fence proved instructive. In the snows, you could see otter tracks everywhere over the surface ice! Seems that the traditional otter fence just doesn’t keep them out! Also talked to one of the long-stay carp anglers who reported watching a mink diving in and out of a roach shoal and building up a stock of fish to see it through the hard weather. So common for anglers to concentrate of the perils of otters and cormorants and overlook these particular North American aliens altogether. Even if fishing were next to impossible, it was good to be out and about watching how the birds coped in the harsh weather. Fortunately, the marshes round my house were only frozen for a few days, otherwise all manner of birds would soon have been in trouble. Coots and water hens are amongst the first to find a freeze-up problematic. But herons, kingfishers and the returning bittern aren’t far behind. Sarah and I did manage the odd day out on the river but the water was full of snow melt and the colour of Bovril. We had one bite and a fish on for a few seconds and that was enough to make a freezing session something of an achievement. But now it’s India. Temperatures 35 degrees above rather than five degrees below! Never dull, the life of a fisherman!”

"There are so many aspects to fishing: watercraft, interpreting fish behaviour, the skills of casting and the adrenaline-pumping excitement of playing a big fish. And there’s the art to what we do. The exquisite skills of the fly tyer, perhaps. And then Andrew Field’s quite sensational handmade floats. I enjoyed a lovely day with Andrew; we even caught a chub. And, of course, it fell to maggots fished under one of his own red-tipped stick floats. The detailing on these floats is unbelievable. The thread. The whipping. The painting. The varnishing. Even the beautifully displayed feathers that adorn each and every one. These floats take you back to the age of the craftsman, before the dubious benefits of mass production. Are they better than modern plastic floats? Well, I think so because each float can be made individually for the job that you want it to do. And is it nicer to fish with one of Andrew’s gorgeous creations? Well, what do you think?!"