If you can't do, teach ...

There used to be a saying: "if you can't do, teach ..." as someone who once worked in staff training and is now a preacher, I resemble that remark!

Following a fortnight's family holiday in Sorrento, Southern Italy, I was desperate to fish. It'd had been a thoroughly enjoyable holiday, but only an angler will understand how it's possible to be happily soaking up the sun on the Amalfi Coast while dreaming of fishing in England.

Three days after returning to the UK, Pete and I, along with Pete's son Jacob, were sneaking out of our respective homes leaving wives and children (except Jacob) sleeping for a quick couple of hours on the canal. It turned out to be hard going. Pete, who is a much more intuitive, restless and risk-taking lure angler than me, managed to catch 4 or 5 small perch (and lose a pike), but it was a struggle, and Jacob and I blanked. I had a couple of "follows" and 2 which actually came off the hooks (attention to detail? maybe I should have sharpened the hooks on what is a well-used spinner), but it wasn't easy. This was one occasion when I would get no opportunity to use Stewart Bloor's well worn Youtube catchphrase: "at least I'm not a blanker, am I?" I was.

 

 

 

 

Four days later I was back on the bank, not this time of the canal, but of a local carp lake, accompanied by Greg, and this time fulfilling the role of "coach" rather than angler. Greg, a keen photographer and ornithologist, accompanied our church fishing club on their maiden trip, but found himself so enchanted by fishing that the die was cast. On our next trip he was there with his newly purchased pole, seatbox, rod holdall, landing net and terminal tackle, and since then he's been unstoppable. With several sessions, and plenty of roach, rudd, bream and perch under his belt and a match rod added to the pole, he fancied a crack at carping, and so I lent him my carp gear for the evening and sat alongside him to explain the rigs, offer advice, chat and (hopefully) act as netsman.

 

There had been a notice at our holiday hotel in Italy which read "Please not to introduce food to the pool" ( cue: gag- "Hi, Pool, this is Cheese and Pickle sandwich, I reckon you guys will get on great, I'll just leave you to chat ..."), but there were no such restrictions at the carp lake, and so PVA mesh bags of boilies were rapidly made up, and soon they, were being swung into the marginal swims along with bolt rigs, hair-rigged boilies and a semi-fixed inline lead set up.

 

 I'd like to report that reels screamed, bite alarms bleeped and rods were bent - but I can't. A thoroughly enjoyable evening of chatting and drinking coffee failed to be interrupted by a single run. Sporadic rain gave way to a lovely pink sunset, and we stayed with rods out until after dark, but although Greg learnt plenty about rigs, baits, gadgets and gizmo's he didn't get to experience what it feels like to play a doggedly determined carp.
He's got a lure fishing trip planned with Pete on Friday morning, so could end the week on a "high." As for me, my hopes are now pinned on our next church club outing in a week's time- surely I can't blank pole fishing with maggots .......... can I?
If you can't do, teach, and if you can't teach ..... take up golf. Has anyone got a set of clubs I could borrow?

 

Greg waiting for the carp that never came ...

 

Postscript: Two days later Greg went out on an early morning spinning trip with Pete, and caught a number of quality perch; I tee off at 9 o'clock tomorrow morning!