Dug died last week, possibly in the way he would have liked to have gone, playing a 6lb tench to the net. The attack occurred whilst playing the fish, but he actually died a little later in hospital.
I first met Dug in the early 1960s, in Cambridge, where he ran the blood donor unit of the local hospital. (He rejected me as a suitable donor!). We used to have fish-talk lunches surrounded by bottles of blood. We fished together a lot, in his little Reliant van, before he moved to York – where he remained for the rest of his working life and retirement.
He was one of the earliest successful fenland pikers, getting more runs in one day on deadbaits than Ray Webb and I put together. We learnt so much from him.
Although Dug didn’t write, he was right in there, contributing to the revolution in big fish angling in the1960s. Tench were his favourite fish, although he fished a lot for Yorkshire barbel and chub.
More interestingly, he created his own carp fishery near York, from absolute scratch (a hole in the ground dug by a farmer). He planted it, stocked it, and gave the place such a wonderful atmosphere that the water itself reminded one of Dug. I caught my first Yorkshire carp there.
Above all, what Dug bought to angling was a loving, very sporting, very traditional approach (though he was always trying new techniques and baits) and he fished as a real gentleman – in his dealings with other anglers as well as with fish.
It is a great sadness to me that I’ll no longer be able to spend treasured evenings chewing the rag on matters piscatorial as the tenching dusk approached. And, as you can imagine of such a man, he will be sorely missed by Shirley and all the family.
