I've come a long way from that freshface lad who set out to fish the river with his first proper fishing rod in 1968. The memories of getting up before dawn and sneaking down to the river, cycling through the silent village streets. The absolute magic of it all and the complete sense of freedom it gave me still lives with me now. The wonder of the river and it's ever moving current, the mysteries it could hold have always pulled me. When I catch a fish like this, when I succeed in such an amazing way all the struggles fade away.
The largest of them all so far and I nearly didn't get it in at all. When the alarm sounded I was as ever on it in a flash, disengaging the bait runner, winding down fast to pick up slack whilst walking backwards to coax the fish into mid river. But this time it all went wrong as I immediately realised that the line which was going straight down, had caught under a marginal lillie. You can wait for a moment to see what happens or like me you just jump straight into the river, stuff the rod down under the lillies and heave. I'm glad I did, as the line grated it came free giving me the first direct contact with the fish which of course made it angry and so it just tore up river stripping line.
I knew I was playing a big fish and I also knew that the line had just been shredded. It's been so long since I last had a run and i've been putting in an enormous amount of effort "if I lose this fish".
It all means so much, which is why I fish the river Great Ouse for it's carp.