This was the highest turn-out so far on the FM Ribble Chub Fish-in with just under 30 FM members turning out on a very cold but sunny Saturday morning.
As usual we gathered in the car park of the Black Bull around 10:30 and while one or two of the lads were discussing their chances, someone remarked on the large removal van carrying items of furniture into the Pub. A good time for me to check that the Pub was open? I was confronted by chairs and tables stacked in the bar, several large tins of paint and a distinct feeling that all was not as it should be. This was quickly confirmed by the landlord when he said, “who are you?” And then, “we don’t open until next Friday.” It transpired that the Landlady had done a runner a couple of day ago and that Ron ‘The Hat’ Clay was in the frame. “Oh dear,” I said “what a ****ing mess this has turned into!” Maybe I didn’t say it, but I was thinking it. I was too embarrassed to turn round and look the lads in the face, those guys were gagging for a pint! However, I did hear someone comment on Ron ‘The Hat’s’ liking for the landlady and how strange it was he couldn’t make it to the Fish-in…….
We could regroup down the road in the White Bull, however, 10 or 12 of the lads were expecting to stay in the Bunk House at the Black Bull. I explained our predicament to the landlord. “No problem,” he said, “give me a few hours and I’ll get the place tidied up and you can stay the night and I’ll not charge you.” A quick dash down the road to the White Bull where the landlord said he could accommodate us for lunch and later that evening for a meal, and the day was saved. Some of the FM lads hit the river early and a few of us collected in the White Bull for a quick drink and lunch. By 14:00hrs we were all on the river fishing. Conditions looked difficult with the water temp at 5C and an air temp of 7C (this dropped to zero at dusk), however, the bright skies gave way to cloud and I thought we might be in with a chance if the cloud cover stayed into dusk. Unfortunately this wasn’t to be, at dusk the cloud cover broke and a beautiful moon meant no need for torches on the walk back to the cars as well as very little chance of any chub. I’m sure everyone must have enjoyed their walks back to their cars if only to get warm, as the wind at times had a real cutting edge to it, chilling you to the bone. By the time Paul B and I walked into the Pub you could tell by the look on everyone’s faces that very few fish had been caught, but at this point I never thought that there would be no chub at all.
Graham and Andy were the last anglers to turn up and they saved the day by banking one chub each, a 3.4 to Andy and a 4.2 to Graham. Nearly 30 anglers and only two chub caught. That’s what I call hard going, but that’s the Ribble for you. The craic in the Pub was excellent as was the meal and the beer; you would never have known that we’d had a crap day’s fishing. Andy Nellist and Swordsy had us splitting our sides laughing at tales of their worst day’s fishing (I can’t do justice here – there were lots of actions and hand-waving). The fishing stories were good, and there was plenty of advice for those who wanted it. And, to top all this when we got back to the bunkhouse it was immaculate and warm and the (new) landlady had left us milk, coffee and tea and a little note saying she’d hoped we’d had a good day. I turned in about 01:00hrs and I never did find out if Baz held his s  When you purchase through links on our site, we may earn an affiliate commission, which supports our community.
|
Welcome!Log into your account
