Kevin Perkins is one of those anglers who sees both the funny and darker side of life, and there are plenty of funny and dark goings-on in fishing. He’s the Alternative Angler who sees that side of things that most of us miss because we’re too busy going about the serious business of catching fish and often missing the strange, the satirical, and the plain comical along the way.
Never mind smelling the flowers, don’t forget to take time out to see the whacky side of fishing life and grab a laugh or a lament along the way.
Feeling Emotional
It occurred to me that the changeover from ‘old’ to new FM stirred up a faint, long buried memory for me. It took me a while to remember, but then the feeling came rushing back, it was just like the first day at a new school.
The nerves, the apprehension (some would say the same strange noises and smells, but I couldn’t possibly comment) as you entered the portals of a senior school for the first time was to me, at least, a mirror image of stepping over into the ‘new’ Fish & Fly Magic
The similarities are remarkable. You go from being top dog in the primary school where you are feared and admired, to being just a ‘newbie’ along with all the other first year plebs. The dark fear of the new boy initiation ceremony, which entailed being shoved head first in a toilet bowl while a group of second years took turns to flush the cistern.
Maybe you were gripped by the terror of being caught by the fifth formers as you tried to sneak unnoticed past the machine shop while they were in attendance. Your punishment for this was to be de-bagged and then suffer the added embarrassment of having your private parts daubed with engineering blue, not a pleasant experience, and a bugger to get off.
Another sure sign that you had moved up was when you opened up your Spider Man lunch box and took out your Umbongo drink, sandwiches with the crusts cut off that had been lovingly prepared by your mum, and a Munch Bunch yoghurt. The sight of these junior comestibles would bring a howling cacophony of derision from those around you in the dinner hall
It always seemed strange that this short, sharp transition form boy to man took place in that balmy six weeks school holiday, without you even noticing. You might have found the odd stray hair some place other than your head, but beyond that, you were blissfully ignorant of the momentous change that was about to befall you.
So, if we’re getting our feelings out in the open, does fishing affect you in that way, have you ever, or do you still get emotional about out sport? Admittedly you are not going to get the same raw passion on display at a football cup-tie, for instance, but does that mean you shouldn’t be emotionally affected?
Angling is seen as a sedentary pursuit, and probably one of the most laid back of active sports (let’s disregard the likes of stamp collecting and train spotting) but does that mean we shouldn’t get involved it what’s going on.
I remember one trip to an AT pike qualifier at Irthingborough that had me experiencing just about every possible feeling and emotion. I started with confidence; the previous two years I had been honing my skills and techniques to a point where my own vanity told me that all I had to do was turn up. I had pride in my tackle; some of the rods I was using were hand made and such was the finish that several had commented favourably, even asking where I had bought them.
Experience had taught me that the bait I was planning to use wouldn’t fail me, this was one occasion when I was planning to win the match, or at the very least finish in the top three, something I hadn’t managed in the previous two years of trying
No need to rush to my peg, a leisurely stroll round the pit, chatting to the other anglers as I went. In fact I was still setting up when the ‘all in’ sounded. Not to worry, out went the obligatory mackerel bait, and I carried on setting up my second rod. For some reason, I glanced down at the rod on its rest to see line peeling off the spool. Now there was confusion, because unless this was the best coming back to life act since Lazarus, something was wrong.
The mackerel had been out of the sea for at least a week, it had been in my freezer for a couple of days and I had cut its head off before I chucked it out, so the chances of it swimming off by itself were minimal.
Obviously, some sneaky pike had picked up the bait as soon as it hit the water and had made off with it at a rate of knots. By the time I realised this, picked up the rod and started to wind furiously in order to make contact, the pike got fed up and dropped the bait. In fact, given the time I had taken to wake up, the pike had probably got brain freeze from having the frozen mackerel clamped in its jaw for so long, and decided to spit it out. So, a clear case of elation and dejection in a matter of seconds.
I won’t relate the rest of the day in detail, suffice to say that I had eight runs in total and managed to land two fish. At the weigh in I missed third place (and the all important pools money) by a couple of ounces, that coveted third place going to a spotty twelve year old (well he looked it to me) so disappointment, and envy thrown into the mix as well.
No emotions in fishing? Surely we all get that instant adrenalin rush when your float dips, or your rod tip twitches or your bite alarm sounds. We’ve all experienced the elation of catching a big fish or even the satisfaction of catching a difficult one. There is the despair when you lose a good fish, any fish, in fact. The satisfaction when a plan comes together and you outwit your quarry, the frustration when it doesn’t.
We have all had those moments when we appreciate just being a part of nature, the sights and sounds, glimpses of wildlife that we know others won’t see, the sunrises and the sunsets, always so much better over water.
If none of this happens to you, then you just don’t ‘get’ fishing, do you……
