My father was a keen angler and my older brother followed suit and in
time so did I.
There was a difference between my brother and me however namely that he
was a good fisherman like my dad, and I was useless.
Amongst other things I couldn’t bait my hook properly, I was loud and
noisy and terribly clumsy.
If I managed to avoid falling in the river, lake, or stream. I would
drop something in the water instead.
The inherent problem with fishing for me was (A) the fishing rod was
twice as long as me and (B) the line had a hook on the end.
I would get snagged in weeds or bushes or trees, passers-by, my dad, my
brother, a boat, in fact you name it I would get hooked on it.
But if all of that wasn’t enough to qualify me as a useless angler then
the fact that I had never caught a fish would have sealed it.
For three years I fished with my dad or my brother or with mates and
nothing.
And the longer it went on the smaller my angling peer group became.
I was so desperate to catch a fish, but the harder I tried the worse I
got.
I even dreamed of catching fish and in those dreams, I caught them by
the dozen on unbaited hooks and I reeled them in effortlessly,
But when I woke again next morning, I was the same crap angler I was the
night before who nobody wanted to fish with.
So, it was for this reason that I found myself fishing alone at the age
of nine on Southgate Boating Lake.
I had been there all day and hadn’t even got a bite so just before I
decided to call it a day I cast my line in again, this time from the boat
jetty.
My float went plop about forty feet from the jetty, and I nodded to
myself with satisfaction.
Within a minute or two I became aware of something digging into my foot.
I waggled my wellied foot in an effort to dislodge the source of the
discomfort.
But when I put my foot down, I realised I had just succeeded in moving
the offending article more securely under my foot.
There was only one solution to the problem and that was to remove my
boot and shake out the debris.
I lay my rod on the jetty and sat down next to it and removed my welly.
As I shook it a small pebble bounced off the jetty and splashed in the
water which is when I realised my float was bobbing franticly in the still
water.
I had a bite, and it was a bloody good one.
I didn’t have time to replace my welly so I quickly stood up and
snatched up my rod and line and struck.
I felt instinctively I had it hooked and began reeling it in my maiden
catch.
And there I stood on the Southgate Lake boat jetty reeling in my catch
wearing only one welly.
Moments later I landed the thrashing writhing monster of the deep, a
three-inch long Gudgeon the most beautiful fish I had ever seen.
And in timely fashion just as the fish appeared a small group of angling
friends were passing to verify the breaking of my angling duck and I would no longer
have to fish alone.
I was so grateful for that tiny fish and incidentally that was the only
Gudgeon I ever caught.
