The River Idle Fish-in, Organised by John LedgerABOUT TWO YEARS AGO I fished at Haxey on the Idle while a previous FM fish-in was taking place and although I was a member of FM I did not post and neither did I know anyone.
The reason I was there was because it was an area I had promoted for the Angling Star in the past. So I turned up and went upstream of all the other anglers and fished for four hours. I had 12lb of roach. The fishing was good but something was missing. Nobody seemed to be talking, apart from Ron and Mick Howson, and I thought if I ever organise one it would be certainly different even if we all blanked. Well the 2nd Idle fish-in took place on the 21st October and it was very successful, not because of the organisation but for the people that came. We had no Prima Donnas and I went away with the feeling that I felt a lot better for meeting them. When a dozen or so people turn up it’s not so much the fishing but the crack, and if a few characters turn up all the better, for there’s nothing worse than being sat on a bank with some boring old farts discussing how many scales a roach has and if its pectoral and anal fins are in good working order. The RiverThe River Idle rises at Markham Moor with the confluence of the rivers Maun and Meden and further North the rivers Poulter and lastly the Ryton being its two tributaries before it enters the Trent at Owston Ferry. The upper reaches above Retford and Gambston are like a fast flowing trout stream, shallow and full of streamer weed with chub, dace, roach, trout and now barbel being the predominant species.
The river below Retford meanders onto Bawtry passing through Mattersey Scrooby. It’s here in the middle reaches that the fishing is the best with swims to die for, but like the upper river very hard to gain access and long walks the order of the day. Chub, roach, dace, perch, bream and pike are in abundance in this area and pick the right swim on the right day and it could indeed be a red letter day. Below Bawtry, on its way to the Trent, the river alters dramatically and from Misson onwards it becomes a fast flowing drain governed by two huge pumps and of course the tidal Trent. Haxey is typical of the lower river, stopping and starting flowing one minute, stood still the next. Yet come November the fish of the higher reaches migrate down to the deeper water of Haxey and the fishing can be excellent. Well, enough of boring you to death, let’s talk about the day. First LightAs always, I was first down to the pub car park and so I should be as I only live 25 minutes away. As I took my tackle out of the car I could see Ron moving about in the pub chalets (he had stayed overnight). A quick look at the river confirmed my worst fears: it was not flowing, or flowing very little anyway. But sod it, we are here, and we must make the best out of it.
I walked up the bank past the copse and staked out two swims, one for myself and one for Graham and had just started to catch a few when I heard Beecys voice behind me. What can you say about a bloke who puts petrol in a diesel car apart from ‘PILLOCK!’ Mind you, he is a Sheffield Wednesday supporter so his brains were removed at a very early age. Anyway, Beecy decided to fish below me in the trees, which is a very good holding area and was soon among the fish even though, like mine, they were small. The trouble with a river that is stopping and starting is the fact that when it stands the fish think they are in a lake or canal and swim around in their own merry way, when it flows they are facing the flow and the bait drifting down to them and that makes all the difference. The Travellers ArriveNext person to arrive was my old mate Fred Bonney and he too settled in the trees before the peace was shattered by a female voice and yes Wendy (Sex on Legs) Perry had arrived walking up the bank with her No 1 big daddy and minder Mr Graham Marsden.
When it comes to having a lady at a fish-in you need gentlemen to look after her and believe you me Graham, Paul Williams and myself did everything we could to look after our Wendy. When she wanted to answer the call of nature we, like the true gentlemen we are, all offered to guard her when she went in the bushes. We even went to the extent of taking our cameras, Graham being particularly magnanimous with his brand new super dooper, spot a fleas backside at 200 metres, Nikon with new zoom lens (Who says the age of chivalry is dead). All I can say is despite our valiant efforts and honest good intentions Wendy never went into those bushes again (there is just no helping some people). Maybe it was something to do with her hearing Graham muttering something about, “Wow, that’ll be a good ‘un for a new caption competition.” Setting Wendy Up (Well someone has to do it)Wendy in my eyes showed a tremendous amount of bottle, turning up to fish with a gang of blokes, most of whom she had never met. So let’s say she commanded quite a bit of respect. I set her up with a 14ft match rod, a stickfloat, 2lb reel line, 1lb bottom and a size 22 hook and plonked her in a swim just above Graham. My cunning plan was if she got herself in a tangle our Graham would do the gentlemanly thing and sort her out (how wrong can a man be). I had started like a train with around twenty or so small fish and at least things where looking up despite the river stopping and starting like a London bus. A cry from above told us Wendy had caught a fish. I have to be honest, and the rest of the lads will agree, she was no trouble at all and only once got herself in a tangle. So well done that young woman who is now my adopted FM daughter. Nothing Big But We All CaughtOne thing about this fish-in I admired was the distance some had travelled to get there, some coming after work or from holidays. Paul Williams had made a trip of over 100 miles to attend and Graham’s journey was 132 miles, and that is commitment of the highest order. Wendy, Bryan and Sean had all travelled a long way to be there and even if we had all blanked we would still have had an enjoyable day. The last group of anglers to arrive was my good friends Mike Howson, Mike Townsend, Ian Cloke and Jason from Champion Baits, the latter two going on walkabout for about an hour trying to find us.
Ron had stayed over the night before and decided not to fish as he was travelling to the fens. He spent most of the morning taking photos and talking. Graham had settled in the swim above me and was catching at a consistent rate, nothing big but at least the float was going under. I used to have an old engineer called Tommy Kidd and he used to say to me, “Don’t try kidding me kid because I have kidded thousands,” and if Graham ever says to you he does not know how to use the stickfloat remember the above. Highlight of the DayWell it had to be our Wendy who, with Paul’s help, latched onto three pike, the last being around 12lb or more and her face was a picture. Paul had set up two rods and he being the gentleman he is let Wendy have a go (let her? Paul was trampled in the stampede as she ran for the rods! – Graham) and it did make her day as the photos proved. Myself, after stopping and starting due to taking photos, had caught a few with my biggest being a perch of around a 1lb. One thing you don’t do on this little river is to stop feeding once you have got them going as it’s very hard to get them back and feeding again. I was sorry when I had to leave but we had all caught a few fish, Graham ending the day with 56, and Wendy and Paul with their pike. The two Mikes, although arriving late, had caught. Fred, Beecy, Ian, Jason and Bryan had all caught a few and Sean had disappeared so far up the river lure fishing for pike we lost trace of him. The pub had come in handy for the meal and drink and everybody enjoyed the day so much we have another two fish-ins planned, one in December and one in January. As Graham so rightly said, it’s a cracking little river. Graham I caught this bug for the Idle fifty years ago and you my friend have become addicted – welcome to the club! A Few Notes from GrahamI enjoyed it as much as I did for numerous reasons. The river is indeed a cracker, perfect for trotting with a stickfloat (which I hadn’t done much of for quite some time), and for roach, which are fairly rare where I come from.
The pike fishing is top quality, not so much for holding monsters, but for the fact that it’s stuffed with them (and who cares if they nick a few roach off your stickfloat trotting gear?) and there are enough doubles, and the chance of something a bit more special, to make it interesting. It was a good day because we were in good company, and it was nice to see Paul getting battered by Wendy as she rehearsed for the new year sales by getting to the rods first. There were no words spoken, but if there had been it wouldn’t have been a case of, “excuse me Paul, but may I have that run.” It would have been more like, “Hey Brummie, get out of me way, that’s mine!” Followed by a straight arm shove to rival any prop forward as she charged past. Boy, did I chuckle as I watched this happen while trying to get some pictures. Paul was happy for her to take the rods, but she was taking no chances!
Seriously though, he looked after her like a good ‘un, and taught her some valuable lessons about pike fishing, including how to take care of them and unhook them correctly. There is no doubt that Wendy became a confirmed pike angler that day. It was a good day because the pub was nearby, and it did a great breakfast (washed down with a pint of Guinness) and evening meal (washed down with another pint of Guinness), where me, Wendy, Paul, Sean and Bryan ended up before leaving for home. The steaks were spot-on. We all caught a satisfying amount of fish, in spite of the river, I’m told, not being at its best. Ron fished the day before the fish-in and had a few bigger ones. But like matches, practice sessions don’t count – sorry Ron! Being fair though, he couldn’t fish for long on the day of the fish-in as he was off to the Fens for 10 days in the afternoon. But not before selling me a closed face reel I’d been after for some time as I’d worn mine out a long time ago. I caught some of my fish on the centrepin and most on the closed face, and although I like fishing the ‘pin the match angler in me prefers the closed face any day of the week. It’s all about what you’re used to I suppose. John did a great job of organising the day, and unselfishly went out of his way to look after everybody and make sure they wanted for nothing. I’ll tell you what, if you get chance to come to the next river Idle fish-in, then take it. It won’t be the worst thing you’ve ever done. Not by a country mile. Even Mick Howson smiled(:-)
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