The Alternative Angler

Never mind smelling the flowers, don’t forget to take time out to see the satirical side of fishing life and grab a laugh along the way as well. So here’s a regular column from Kevin Perkins to remind us that life is for laughing at, or taking the p*** out of, whenever we can.

With all the media speculation about records going on at the moment, are we missing a moral lesson from our sea-fishing colleagues? They realise that there is a fundamental difference between boat and shore fishing and publish two distinct record lists. Are we coarse and game anglers saying that as we don’t have such diverse methods of capture, we feel that the same rules shouldn’t apply to us?

Let’s start with the easiest, trout fishing. Why is it that we don’t have different records for boat and bank caught trout? Boat fishermen can cover far more water and therefore many more fish than the bank angler can, so why the same record targets? Boat anglers will invariably have to pay more for their sport, so is it a case of those who can afford it can catch (or certainly at least gain access to) the biggest fish?

I can recount the tale of a time when I was experimenting with long distance casting for pike, buying new blanks, trying different rings and spacings, streamlined and clipped down rigs, switching from fixed spool to multiplier, etc, etc. After two full seasons, the distance achieved had finally crept up to and occasionally over the ‘Holy Grail’ of 100 yards. During this time there was good-natured banter with another group of anglers, who, despite their combined efforts and equipment, were always around 20 yards short of the magic mark. In truth, our efforts to increase casting distances probably had the usual effect of pushing the pike further away from the bank.

Until one fateful day, when we arrived a couple of hours later than normal for our usual weekend session. The other group of anglers casually wandered over to see what new developments we had bought to the fray this week. The expected ribbings accompanied all the improved or modified tackle we brought out. Invariably we asked if they had caught anything. They normally hadn’t, and nor had we, as this was one of those ‘eleven o’clock’ waters, and it was still only about nine thirty in the morning, so imagine the surprise when the answer to our question was:

“We’ve had a sixteen pounder.”

“Really?” we said, puzzled that they had managed land a fish at such an early hour.

“Anything special, different bait?” We were desperate for any information about this apparent sudden change of pattern.

“Nothing really,” was the strained answer, they were having great difficulty not laughing, knuckles were being chewed to the bone

“Mackerel tail at about two hundred yards.” Huge guffaws and stout anglers rolling around on the ground, unable to control themselves.

Caption (click for bigger picture)

When they had recovered they walked back to their swims, still chuckling away, leaving us completely baffled. They reason for their success and this huge increase in distance became apparent a bit later on, as a bright yellow, children’s inflatable boat was produced with a flourish from one of their bivvies. We knew it was a kid’s boat because:

1)It was decorated with pictures of starfish and sandcastles.
2)When the angler got in it to row the baits out, his legs and arms were hanging out over sides, in fact, his motion through the water was reminiscent of those flies you see buzzing round in circles on the surface, going nowhere.

I say row, but in truth he paddled out using what looked suspiciously like two table tennis bats, and with a selection of treble hook festooned deadbaits between his legs, he laboriously thrashed his way out to the required distance, depositing the baits on the way as instructed by his colleagues on the bank.

Quite obviously, bobbing around in little more than a rubber ring, over two hundred yards from ‘safety’ would be regarded as ever so slightly dangerous. Indeed, we noted the poor ‘rower’, (Sir Steve Redgrave need not worry about the competition) probably burnt up about 3000 calories through his exertions, judging by the steam rising from him when he came ‘ashore’. But, that aside, we all felt that it was not only not ‘cricket’ it wasn’t bloody fishing either! Just what lengths do you have to go to, to have gone too far?

Coarse fishermen don’t regularly take to the water in search of their quarry, but they do use mechanical devices to enable them to fish further than they would ‘naturally’, for example, items such as baitboats. Again, if you have the money it seems you can obtain an advantage over other anglers, yet still compete for the same fish.

Whilst there may not be enough coarse anglers employing these methods to warrant a separate record list, as could be easily done for trout anglers, how about a 25% reduction in the weight of any fish the coarse anglers claim as a handicap for using mechanical aids. Wouldn’t this be a more level playing field?

My bet is that a move to try and limit artificial angling aids would be simply overcome by using ‘stealth’ methods. Look out for the ‘U69 – the Bait Submarine’, coming to a shop near you soon. First development would be on board camera mounted in the nose so you can view the scene on the lakebed. Then a further modification will be robot arms to allow you to pick up and move any baits placed ‘too near’ to your swim by other anglers.

They will probably reply with a submarine fitted with robot arms armed with cutting gear to snip through your rigs. Your only answer will be to deploy the (optional) torpedoes to protect your gear. The next logical step would lead to you having to install anti-submarine nets and mines around your swim. The obvious response would be radio controlled minesweepers, which you can only counter with attack helicopters launched from your aircraft carrier.

Lets hope all this action doesn’t put the fish off their feed!