In reply to Post #178
As i crossed the dew soaked fields the prints of my boots stood out i was the only one who had past this way except for the prints of the badgers a sure sign they had been after the worms in the early hours before dawn i followed there prints back to the old set that had been there for generations i wondered how many of there kind had actually been born in this set, it had been there when i was a youngster how long before i can only guess, how it survived the old keepers i do not know as i would creep up to where he had his gibbet there was always a badger or two hanging there i would look at all the animals he had killed old foxy was one, the weasel was another, stoat, jays, crows, buzzard they were all hanging there even a cat or two and all in the name of shooting the keepers protected their game with a rod of iron nothing got in the way of the pheasant and partridge days, if they did not produce the goods then they would loose their jobs that was a fact, you really would think there would be no wild life left but there was even more than today maybe not as many badgers in those days the fields were full of flowers poppies every where you looked the woods would be full off the wood sorrel primroses blue bells fox gloves grew on the sides of the woods, the yellow water iris, in the boggy ground there were the orchids, several different types where have they now all gone i think herbicides and such things have killed a good many of our native flower farming methods,changed hedges ripped out to make way for the combines its all had a big impact on our country side.
When we were young we would walk miles to collect the mushrooms it was nothing to collect a big basket full
they would be made into soup or fried and served up with home cured bacon from your own pig and eggs from the farm with big chunks of home baked bread and butter, but today you are lucky to pick any some of our local farms where there used to be an abundance of mushrooms are just not there any more shame really but once again its farming methods although i think it may be getting better as more farmers are letting a few corners of our fields grow wild which draws the wild life in its like a magnet, it grows poppies thistles long grasses it helpes the feild mouse and many birds even old foxey will lie in the grass and sun himself in warmer weather, the brooks and small rivers are now a lot cleaner i dont know if i should say this but the otter is now making a recovery and can be seen on most small rivers but the difference is in my young days they were controled not that i really cared for the method as i have said before the river ran red from the blood ot this animal but there must be some sort of control, they will find thier own level with the availabilty of food but that could take years. well a bit more latter
As i crossed the dew soaked fields the prints of my boots stood out i was the only one who had past this way except for the prints of the badgers a sure sign they had been after the worms in the early hours before dawn i followed there prints back to the old set that had been there for generations i wondered how many of there kind had actually been born in this set, it had been there when i was a youngster how long before i can only guess, how it survived the old keepers i do not know as i would creep up to where he had his gibbet there was always a badger or two hanging there i would look at all the animals he had killed old foxy was one, the weasel was another, stoat, jays, crows, buzzard they were all hanging there even a cat or two and all in the name of shooting the keepers protected their game with a rod of iron nothing got in the way of the pheasant and partridge days, if they did not produce the goods then they would loose their jobs that was a fact, you really would think there would be no wild life left but there was even more than today maybe not as many badgers in those days the fields were full of flowers poppies every where you looked the woods would be full off the wood sorrel primroses blue bells fox gloves grew on the sides of the woods, the yellow water iris, in the boggy ground there were the orchids, several different types where have they now all gone i think herbicides and such things have killed a good many of our native flower farming methods,changed hedges ripped out to make way for the combines its all had a big impact on our country side.
When we were young we would walk miles to collect the mushrooms it was nothing to collect a big basket full
they would be made into soup or fried and served up with home cured bacon from your own pig and eggs from the farm with big chunks of home baked bread and butter, but today you are lucky to pick any some of our local farms where there used to be an abundance of mushrooms are just not there any more shame really but once again its farming methods although i think it may be getting better as more farmers are letting a few corners of our fields grow wild which draws the wild life in its like a magnet, it grows poppies thistles long grasses it helpes the feild mouse and many birds even old foxey will lie in the grass and sun himself in warmer weather, the brooks and small rivers are now a lot cleaner i dont know if i should say this but the otter is now making a recovery and can be seen on most small rivers but the difference is in my young days they were controled not that i really cared for the method as i have said before the river ran red from the blood ot this animal but there must be some sort of control, they will find thier own level with the availabilty of food but that could take years. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #179
The wind was blowing as i made my way to the brook i had hidden my bike in the field by the railway line it had recently rained hard and there was a bit of colour in the fast flowing water i made my way to the first of the water falls there were three in all. I had made my rod up before approaching the bank where the old falls were they were man made and had stood for generations, i had collected a few nice red worms which i would use to catch the willy trout, that lay in the foaming water, i cast into the silver spray using a swan shot for weight and a couple of red worms for bait it was a cloudy night and the movement of the clouds cast shadows over the adjacent fields i sat down and listened i could detect no noise only the howling of the wind, it caused the odd tree to creek and groan i felt for the bites i knew they would come i slight pluck of the line then a steady take lifting the rod and tighten up no need to strike i was in once again i would always catch under the sill of these falls, it was the late fifties and i needed a few trout for the family and neighbors i knocked it on the head, and put it in the bag and recast i did not have to wait long i felt the pluck and was in once again but this fish, did not want to give in eventually i got him to the side what a sight met my eyes it was a cock fish an old male it was the biggest i have ever caught from this brook i was in a dilemma did i return him or take him home to eat, he had lived a long time to reach this size he was deep and long spotted red and black down both flanks he was about two pounds big for a brook trout i would let him go i watched as he swam away into the foaming water under the sill of those falls.
The Brook a i poached all those years ago its altered a lot since then
I carried on down stream once again i cast under the falls ,it had hardly hit the water and it was away i brought it to the side another of about a pound it joined the other in the bag i stood and listened i could hear the keepers dog barking in the distance it carried on the wind making it sound nearer than what it was the hoot of an owl in the trees above gave me a start but i no need to worry old bell was tucked up in bed slumbering the night away he was not out tonight , maybe he had been to his local and would not give the brook a second thought it was stocked for the gents and ladies to fish with there artificial flies, but it was mine for tonight i would stay until the early hours getting home before Dawn i caught a further eighteen trout a good night work but there was one more thing i must do before i went home i tied two trout together and crossed the field to old bells cottage making no noise i hung them on the gate, he would find them next morning, it was my way of saying thank you and to say, i had called once again he knew it was me but could never prove a thing he would get Sgt Landers to call at my home but he would go home empty handed. I have told you all before i would call him old white eyes when he got exited and was telling you off his eye balls would go white he would call and see my parents where had i been the night before in bed mum would say, he chased me many times and actually caught me but i had already hid my rod and fish so he just let me go to his disgust, i was talking to a friend the other day who said he was still alive he must now be in his nineties, when i think back it was all harmless fun, but poaching was a serious offence in those far off days. more latter
another of the brook i used to run down here and hide from the keepers the water was a lot deeper in those days
The wind was blowing as i made my way to the brook i had hidden my bike in the field by the railway line it had recently rained hard and there was a bit of colour in the fast flowing water i made my way to the first of the water falls there were three in all. I had made my rod up before approaching the bank where the old falls were they were man made and had stood for generations, i had collected a few nice red worms which i would use to catch the willy trout, that lay in the foaming water, i cast into the silver spray using a swan shot for weight and a couple of red worms for bait it was a cloudy night and the movement of the clouds cast shadows over the adjacent fields i sat down and listened i could detect no noise only the howling of the wind, it caused the odd tree to creek and groan i felt for the bites i knew they would come i slight pluck of the line then a steady take lifting the rod and tighten up no need to strike i was in once again i would always catch under the sill of these falls, it was the late fifties and i needed a few trout for the family and neighbors i knocked it on the head, and put it in the bag and recast i did not have to wait long i felt the pluck and was in once again but this fish, did not want to give in eventually i got him to the side what a sight met my eyes it was a cock fish an old male it was the biggest i have ever caught from this brook i was in a dilemma did i return him or take him home to eat, he had lived a long time to reach this size he was deep and long spotted red and black down both flanks he was about two pounds big for a brook trout i would let him go i watched as he swam away into the foaming water under the sill of those falls.
The Brook a i poached all those years ago its altered a lot since then
I carried on down stream once again i cast under the falls ,it had hardly hit the water and it was away i brought it to the side another of about a pound it joined the other in the bag i stood and listened i could hear the keepers dog barking in the distance it carried on the wind making it sound nearer than what it was the hoot of an owl in the trees above gave me a start but i no need to worry old bell was tucked up in bed slumbering the night away he was not out tonight , maybe he had been to his local and would not give the brook a second thought it was stocked for the gents and ladies to fish with there artificial flies, but it was mine for tonight i would stay until the early hours getting home before Dawn i caught a further eighteen trout a good night work but there was one more thing i must do before i went home i tied two trout together and crossed the field to old bells cottage making no noise i hung them on the gate, he would find them next morning, it was my way of saying thank you and to say, i had called once again he knew it was me but could never prove a thing he would get Sgt Landers to call at my home but he would go home empty handed. I have told you all before i would call him old white eyes when he got exited and was telling you off his eye balls would go white he would call and see my parents where had i been the night before in bed mum would say, he chased me many times and actually caught me but i had already hid my rod and fish so he just let me go to his disgust, i was talking to a friend the other day who said he was still alive he must now be in his nineties, when i think back it was all harmless fun, but poaching was a serious offence in those far off days. more latter
another of the brook i used to run down here and hide from the keepers the water was a lot deeper in those days
In reply to Post #180
When i was a youngster at craven arms i fished most of the lakes in the area, most were very private and only used for duck shooting. I fished one such lake it was not to far from my home i would cycle the two or three miles hiding my bike behind the big hedge that surrounded the lake the other problem was the big house stood at the end of the lake, when they had the big party you would see them all out on the lawns beside the lake the butler and his staff would bring the tables and chairs out side onto the lawns, the tables would be piled high with food and drink i would be hiding in the reeds, that fringed the lake watching it all go on, god were they posh the ladies, would be dressed up in there long skirts most of the gentlemen, wore black dinner suits or tweeds this was in the late forties early fifties it was a bit of an eye opener for a youngster like me as i had never seen so much food we certainly never lived like that but i suppose it was the big divide the rich, and the poor, i will not mention any names but the said gentleman, ended up being the high sheriff of Shropshire, they had some very big shoot days on the estate, i always returned home with a few pheasant the keepers failed to find i would mark where they came down and hide them in my sack, it was an easy way to get a meal or two and our neighbors were always pleased as it was very hard living following the war years, so a bit of a change to our diet was always welcome.
Back to the lake my tackle was not over good i had just got the tank aerials my step father had them made for me i used them for all my fishing the reels were the old star backs loaded with silk line it was a bit crude but i caught the floats were porcupine quills i did acquire some split shot but the hooks were the old black eel hook size eight you could not get anything else where i lived i would sit in those reeds on my old sack at times i would get my backside quite damp but it was a hazard of fishing and not being seen, my mother would make bread paste flavoured i think with honey, it was certainly very sweet and i would always carry a few worms i would float fish beside the reed beds the float would slide away and i would catch roach after roach thinking back they were only about half a pound but they looked quite big to me and they were fish, i will never forget this one day i had been sitting there for a good two hours with out a bite, when my float disappeared and the line flew from the reel Christ what had i got on i played it to my feet a couple of times without even seeing what it was god did it scrape i was that exited and my heart was pounding like a sledge hammer i eventually got it to the side and he just lay there it was a carp but not like any i had seen before his flanks were a bronze color and he was shaped like a torpedo, i managed to wrestle him into the reeds we had no nets then, god he was big how big i had no idea, i had a dilemma do i take him home so every one can see him or just let him go i took the second option and watched him swim away it was not until years latter that i realised they where Wilde's maybe stocked by the owners of the big house years before for food, it was not the last carp i caught from that lake over the years, but i will always remember that one carp i was only about eight or nine years old and it was one of the first i ever caught, thinking back it was about four pounds but it looked absolutely huge to a youngster like me . well a bit more latter
When i was a youngster at craven arms i fished most of the lakes in the area, most were very private and only used for duck shooting. I fished one such lake it was not to far from my home i would cycle the two or three miles hiding my bike behind the big hedge that surrounded the lake the other problem was the big house stood at the end of the lake, when they had the big party you would see them all out on the lawns beside the lake the butler and his staff would bring the tables and chairs out side onto the lawns, the tables would be piled high with food and drink i would be hiding in the reeds, that fringed the lake watching it all go on, god were they posh the ladies, would be dressed up in there long skirts most of the gentlemen, wore black dinner suits or tweeds this was in the late forties early fifties it was a bit of an eye opener for a youngster like me as i had never seen so much food we certainly never lived like that but i suppose it was the big divide the rich, and the poor, i will not mention any names but the said gentleman, ended up being the high sheriff of Shropshire, they had some very big shoot days on the estate, i always returned home with a few pheasant the keepers failed to find i would mark where they came down and hide them in my sack, it was an easy way to get a meal or two and our neighbors were always pleased as it was very hard living following the war years, so a bit of a change to our diet was always welcome.
Back to the lake my tackle was not over good i had just got the tank aerials my step father had them made for me i used them for all my fishing the reels were the old star backs loaded with silk line it was a bit crude but i caught the floats were porcupine quills i did acquire some split shot but the hooks were the old black eel hook size eight you could not get anything else where i lived i would sit in those reeds on my old sack at times i would get my backside quite damp but it was a hazard of fishing and not being seen, my mother would make bread paste flavoured i think with honey, it was certainly very sweet and i would always carry a few worms i would float fish beside the reed beds the float would slide away and i would catch roach after roach thinking back they were only about half a pound but they looked quite big to me and they were fish, i will never forget this one day i had been sitting there for a good two hours with out a bite, when my float disappeared and the line flew from the reel Christ what had i got on i played it to my feet a couple of times without even seeing what it was god did it scrape i was that exited and my heart was pounding like a sledge hammer i eventually got it to the side and he just lay there it was a carp but not like any i had seen before his flanks were a bronze color and he was shaped like a torpedo, i managed to wrestle him into the reeds we had no nets then, god he was big how big i had no idea, i had a dilemma do i take him home so every one can see him or just let him go i took the second option and watched him swim away it was not until years latter that i realised they where Wilde's maybe stocked by the owners of the big house years before for food, it was not the last carp i caught from that lake over the years, but i will always remember that one carp i was only about eight or nine years old and it was one of the first i ever caught, thinking back it was about four pounds but it looked absolutely huge to a youngster like me . well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #181
Only the older generation will remember the forties and fifties and how hard it was after the war years most things like butter cheese and tea were rationed which carried on into the early fifties when things started to pick up but even then it was hard the wages were very low a lot of the people living in the country side were employed on the land as farm labourers some even worked down the pit mining for coal it was a hard way to make a living, the railway was another that employed hundreds it was in the days of the steam engine my step father was a signal man at craven arms but when i think of the hours he put in to make a living it was very hard , but we managed and got by. really i could not of moved to a better place than craven arms it was here i learned to fish although i fished before. This place with all the rivers and lakes was something else my mother and father would worry that i may get caught fishing some of the lakes, but i never did but fishing the river onny was a bit chancy with all the bailiffs and keepers that looked after the river i learned to trot a float and trundle down a worm and feel for the bite and even fly fish SAM tried to teach me but i was never that good it was years latter when i became a bailiff for a big trout fishery that i really started to enjoy casting a fly and really caught some good trout the biggest rainbow was eighteen pounds with some nice brown trout thrown in i loved it and would spend hours out in the punt with my springer spaniel SAM, ballifing was a not an easy job especially at night when you would get the poachers down they say it takes one to catch one i had i had done my fair share of poaching over the years the owner of the lake approached myself and graham as we had been recommended by some one else and asked if we would consider doing the job.
I was supplied with a set of x army night vision binoculars they were quite good on every entrance to the fishery i set trip wires that were connected to a tube with a cartridge inside if the poachers tripped the wire it would pull the cotter pin out releasing the bolt and then bang on the road side of the lake i had six set in a row i would take the pellets out of the cartridge and supplement it with rice if you put a car hub cap under the tube what a nose it made with the rice hitting it, i have left a few pellets in at times i was there one night all was quite it was about one thirty there was a terrific bang followed by a lot of shouting as they ran down the side of the lake tripping a further five they were that frightened that they left thier rods, behind in there hast to get away i but that was the object to frighten them and stop them coming, i was there with graham or another friend most nights, and never got to bed much before the early hours but it got easier they started to learn and eventually kept away i had a lot of help from the police and keepers from other local estates, if i had any trouble i would ring the one keeper he would bring down his alsatian it was an ex police dog god he was nasty if we caught any poachers they would not argue back but would stand there untill the police arrived i got threatened a few times but it never came to much its funny really i am now a great freind of one of the old poahers i had trouble with he is a great chap and is now a memeber of my syndicate. well a bit more latter
Only the older generation will remember the forties and fifties and how hard it was after the war years most things like butter cheese and tea were rationed which carried on into the early fifties when things started to pick up but even then it was hard the wages were very low a lot of the people living in the country side were employed on the land as farm labourers some even worked down the pit mining for coal it was a hard way to make a living, the railway was another that employed hundreds it was in the days of the steam engine my step father was a signal man at craven arms but when i think of the hours he put in to make a living it was very hard , but we managed and got by. really i could not of moved to a better place than craven arms it was here i learned to fish although i fished before. This place with all the rivers and lakes was something else my mother and father would worry that i may get caught fishing some of the lakes, but i never did but fishing the river onny was a bit chancy with all the bailiffs and keepers that looked after the river i learned to trot a float and trundle down a worm and feel for the bite and even fly fish SAM tried to teach me but i was never that good it was years latter when i became a bailiff for a big trout fishery that i really started to enjoy casting a fly and really caught some good trout the biggest rainbow was eighteen pounds with some nice brown trout thrown in i loved it and would spend hours out in the punt with my springer spaniel SAM, ballifing was a not an easy job especially at night when you would get the poachers down they say it takes one to catch one i had i had done my fair share of poaching over the years the owner of the lake approached myself and graham as we had been recommended by some one else and asked if we would consider doing the job.
I was supplied with a set of x army night vision binoculars they were quite good on every entrance to the fishery i set trip wires that were connected to a tube with a cartridge inside if the poachers tripped the wire it would pull the cotter pin out releasing the bolt and then bang on the road side of the lake i had six set in a row i would take the pellets out of the cartridge and supplement it with rice if you put a car hub cap under the tube what a nose it made with the rice hitting it, i have left a few pellets in at times i was there one night all was quite it was about one thirty there was a terrific bang followed by a lot of shouting as they ran down the side of the lake tripping a further five they were that frightened that they left thier rods, behind in there hast to get away i but that was the object to frighten them and stop them coming, i was there with graham or another friend most nights, and never got to bed much before the early hours but it got easier they started to learn and eventually kept away i had a lot of help from the police and keepers from other local estates, if i had any trouble i would ring the one keeper he would bring down his alsatian it was an ex police dog god he was nasty if we caught any poachers they would not argue back but would stand there untill the police arrived i got threatened a few times but it never came to much its funny really i am now a great freind of one of the old poahers i had trouble with he is a great chap and is now a memeber of my syndicate. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #182
Being brought up in the country side i got involved with most things from fishing shooting and wild life its been my whole life and i suppose it still is i went down the woods to meet some of our syndicate yesterday i met tony who helps run the shoot with my self and graham, the trees looked beautiful in there autumn colours the brown reds and yellows it is a lovely time of the year there was no one fishing on the lakes i wonder why as its the best time of year we saw an abundance of pheasants which certainly pleased us all i can not believe how dry the fields are in Shropshire some are rock hard, we were talking to one off the local farmers who is having a bit of a problem plowing as the ground is so hard, looking at the lakes the water is right down we certainly need rain funny how wales has had plenty it seems to have passed us by, there's talk of frost next week and maybe a dusting of snow i really hope not .
When i was a young man i loved to walk the hedgerows we would collect the hazel nut take them home and mother would stow them away to use at Xmas as you all know i would poach a few pheasants it was a necessity in those days so we could live, it was in the days of the old keepers i can remember finding a young cat in an old gin trap they were terrible things and would Mame anything that trod on one the keeper would set it and cover it with grass or leaves along would come a rabbit or even a cat and be caught in its vicious jaws i have seen foxes with three legs how they managed i don't know they must of been in great pain the trap had taken there rear leg off thank god they banned them in the early fifties another trap i came across was the pole trap another that has been banned a few poachers used these to catch a pheasant or two but they were originally made to catch falcons IE sparrow hawk and owls which took the keepers young birds
The rivers and brooks are really suffering ,some of the trout streams i poached have been reduced to a trickle and the fish are in the deeper pools i notice the environment agency have been removing fish on the river team as it is to shallow from lack of water i hope things start to improve and we get a drop of rain. well a bit more latter
Being brought up in the country side i got involved with most things from fishing shooting and wild life its been my whole life and i suppose it still is i went down the woods to meet some of our syndicate yesterday i met tony who helps run the shoot with my self and graham, the trees looked beautiful in there autumn colours the brown reds and yellows it is a lovely time of the year there was no one fishing on the lakes i wonder why as its the best time of year we saw an abundance of pheasants which certainly pleased us all i can not believe how dry the fields are in Shropshire some are rock hard, we were talking to one off the local farmers who is having a bit of a problem plowing as the ground is so hard, looking at the lakes the water is right down we certainly need rain funny how wales has had plenty it seems to have passed us by, there's talk of frost next week and maybe a dusting of snow i really hope not .
When i was a young man i loved to walk the hedgerows we would collect the hazel nut take them home and mother would stow them away to use at Xmas as you all know i would poach a few pheasants it was a necessity in those days so we could live, it was in the days of the old keepers i can remember finding a young cat in an old gin trap they were terrible things and would Mame anything that trod on one the keeper would set it and cover it with grass or leaves along would come a rabbit or even a cat and be caught in its vicious jaws i have seen foxes with three legs how they managed i don't know they must of been in great pain the trap had taken there rear leg off thank god they banned them in the early fifties another trap i came across was the pole trap another that has been banned a few poachers used these to catch a pheasant or two but they were originally made to catch falcons IE sparrow hawk and owls which took the keepers young birds
The rivers and brooks are really suffering ,some of the trout streams i poached have been reduced to a trickle and the fish are in the deeper pools i notice the environment agency have been removing fish on the river team as it is to shallow from lack of water i hope things start to improve and we get a drop of rain. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #183
A lot of the small pools and lakes i fished when i was younger has now vanished some drained and filled in just to make way for more houses, or to make that field a bit bigger so the farmer could get better access shame really as a few of the pools held some very big fish one such pool was on my village it was about three acres with a fair sized island the swans always had there nest on the island, the old cob used to kick up if we tried to get onto the island to fish it was a lovely pool it had some weeping willows with a nice bed of Lillie's we would go along although it was private, a Mr Davies owned it and as long as you did no damage he would turn a blind eye it was full of Rudd and carp we would float fish with bread paste as bait we caught a few nice fish, but that was in the late forties but like a lot more pools it got drained what happened to the fish i don't know maybe they were took out or just buried it has now regained its place on the map and is a pool once again created by the residents of our village, until two years ago there was some fair sized carp in the place and the youngsters on our village would be up there fishing they caught carp to seventeen pounds plus it kept them out of mischief but some of our residents were not very happy as their homes backed onto the pool and they complained about the noise i went to a meeting to plead for the youngsters but it was no good the pool has now been netted and is devoid of fish it really sickens me when this happens the youngsters have no where else to go.
Just in front of Bomere was another pool it was not very big it was created by Bomere flooding , i can remember the people from our village skating on the pool in the winter , i suppose i would be about seven or eight years old it was not over deep about four ft at its most but it was full of fish and in the summer us lads would be fishing there we only caught stunted roach and small tench but it kept us busy and out of trouble, we went this one day and the farmer was pumping the water out filling it in us lads were broken hearted at least some of the fish were put in Bomere well the ones that were not buried. Across the fields was another another water which was quite big it was at Betton strange, and called alk mere not the Betton i have mentioned in my stories but you could not fish it as it was strictly private my mates would not go near the place as the farmer had a bad reputation for giving you a clout with his stick if he caught you fishing there, i would poach the place i never got caught. I had some beautiful Rudd i had no scales or landing net as it was just after the war, but but thinking back they must have been over a pound i could hardly get my hand around them they were deep bodied fish, i also caught a few eels from there not big around two pounds which i took home to eat i always kept my eye open for the farmer as he was a miserable old toad he changed his workers like his cloths and most got sacked within weeks of starting to work on the farm, i can remember the land girls working for him i think they had a real tough time and put up with a lot of abuse from that old toad, the pool is still there today and still holds fish but no one fishes it i don't think the owner gives anyone permission some things don't change. well a bit more latter
A lot of the small pools and lakes i fished when i was younger has now vanished some drained and filled in just to make way for more houses, or to make that field a bit bigger so the farmer could get better access shame really as a few of the pools held some very big fish one such pool was on my village it was about three acres with a fair sized island the swans always had there nest on the island, the old cob used to kick up if we tried to get onto the island to fish it was a lovely pool it had some weeping willows with a nice bed of Lillie's we would go along although it was private, a Mr Davies owned it and as long as you did no damage he would turn a blind eye it was full of Rudd and carp we would float fish with bread paste as bait we caught a few nice fish, but that was in the late forties but like a lot more pools it got drained what happened to the fish i don't know maybe they were took out or just buried it has now regained its place on the map and is a pool once again created by the residents of our village, until two years ago there was some fair sized carp in the place and the youngsters on our village would be up there fishing they caught carp to seventeen pounds plus it kept them out of mischief but some of our residents were not very happy as their homes backed onto the pool and they complained about the noise i went to a meeting to plead for the youngsters but it was no good the pool has now been netted and is devoid of fish it really sickens me when this happens the youngsters have no where else to go.
Just in front of Bomere was another pool it was not very big it was created by Bomere flooding , i can remember the people from our village skating on the pool in the winter , i suppose i would be about seven or eight years old it was not over deep about four ft at its most but it was full of fish and in the summer us lads would be fishing there we only caught stunted roach and small tench but it kept us busy and out of trouble, we went this one day and the farmer was pumping the water out filling it in us lads were broken hearted at least some of the fish were put in Bomere well the ones that were not buried. Across the fields was another another water which was quite big it was at Betton strange, and called alk mere not the Betton i have mentioned in my stories but you could not fish it as it was strictly private my mates would not go near the place as the farmer had a bad reputation for giving you a clout with his stick if he caught you fishing there, i would poach the place i never got caught. I had some beautiful Rudd i had no scales or landing net as it was just after the war, but but thinking back they must have been over a pound i could hardly get my hand around them they were deep bodied fish, i also caught a few eels from there not big around two pounds which i took home to eat i always kept my eye open for the farmer as he was a miserable old toad he changed his workers like his cloths and most got sacked within weeks of starting to work on the farm, i can remember the land girls working for him i think they had a real tough time and put up with a lot of abuse from that old toad, the pool is still there today and still holds fish but no one fishes it i don't think the owner gives anyone permission some things don't change. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #184
I saw the first bit of snow yesterday just a shower, winter is upon us again the leaves are coming off the trees leaving them like huge skeletons, soon the only real greenery we will see is the ivy and the holly trees they are now covered in berries the pigeons are feeding well on the berries from the trees, they are big plump birds and have fed well in the summer months on the grain left on the stubble fields. I have not been up to hill country as yet i can drive across the big stubblefield with my trusted 4+4 so i have not got any walking to do well, i could not if i wanted to as the pain in my back can be quite bad at times, i expect the stubble, will have now been plowed over and reset but there should still be a few ducks about on the small pool under the big hill. Graham and i have spent many nights huddled up by that pool in all weather hail snow rain and gales, it was very sheltered and it could be snowing quite hard on high ground but down below very little it was not until you came to go home that you realized just how much snow had fallen one night we had a terrible time getting back grahams land rover would not have any of it we could not get up the track beside the big wood because of the depth of snow the wind had blown it into big drifts we were stuck cold and hungry, we ended up going through the fields lower down where it was not so deep we eventually came to a farm we knew the farmer and he gave us access to go through the farm yard and onto the road it was a terrible night and it was not until you got home that you realized how lucky you had been getting back as in the past the odd person had died on those hills from the cold and the wet and exposure it is a different world up there.
Just down from hill country was a big estate i wont mention any names as not to embarrass any one a friend of mine was the owners son they were loaded with money and held some very big shoots on the estate the son was a bit of a rebel he took us fishing on the estate lakes there was some good carp in the one the problem was we were poaching, the lads dad would let no one on the estate, it will be alright Pete he would say but it was not it had about three keepers and they were around all hours we would hide in the under growth that grew around side of the one small lake, we did catch a few carp to around twelve pounds but i had seen some a lot bigger but you were always on edge if it had just been myself it would not been to bad, i suppose the year was around the middle seventies there was about four of us fishing on the pool, i pulled off as it was obvious that some one was fishing the lake and any keeper worth his salt could see that by just looking at the undergrowth, a few years before i had poached this estate for the rabbits and pheasants i was always very careful as i said before it was quite heavily keeperd i knew the one keeper who was a friend and i got quite a bit of information from him, he knew i did a bit of poaching and he would warn me off. As a friend i felt a bit guilty when i took a few pheasants because of our friendship but that was years ago it was a necessity then so we could live, i had no car then only my bike which i would hid behind the big wall that surrounded the estate i remember the local bobby chasing me this one night his name was Sid betts he was rather a large man. And was not as fast as me on his cycle and i lost him down the back lanes but it all added to the excitement. well a bit more latter
I saw the first bit of snow yesterday just a shower, winter is upon us again the leaves are coming off the trees leaving them like huge skeletons, soon the only real greenery we will see is the ivy and the holly trees they are now covered in berries the pigeons are feeding well on the berries from the trees, they are big plump birds and have fed well in the summer months on the grain left on the stubble fields. I have not been up to hill country as yet i can drive across the big stubblefield with my trusted 4+4 so i have not got any walking to do well, i could not if i wanted to as the pain in my back can be quite bad at times, i expect the stubble, will have now been plowed over and reset but there should still be a few ducks about on the small pool under the big hill. Graham and i have spent many nights huddled up by that pool in all weather hail snow rain and gales, it was very sheltered and it could be snowing quite hard on high ground but down below very little it was not until you came to go home that you realized just how much snow had fallen one night we had a terrible time getting back grahams land rover would not have any of it we could not get up the track beside the big wood because of the depth of snow the wind had blown it into big drifts we were stuck cold and hungry, we ended up going through the fields lower down where it was not so deep we eventually came to a farm we knew the farmer and he gave us access to go through the farm yard and onto the road it was a terrible night and it was not until you got home that you realized how lucky you had been getting back as in the past the odd person had died on those hills from the cold and the wet and exposure it is a different world up there.
Just down from hill country was a big estate i wont mention any names as not to embarrass any one a friend of mine was the owners son they were loaded with money and held some very big shoots on the estate the son was a bit of a rebel he took us fishing on the estate lakes there was some good carp in the one the problem was we were poaching, the lads dad would let no one on the estate, it will be alright Pete he would say but it was not it had about three keepers and they were around all hours we would hide in the under growth that grew around side of the one small lake, we did catch a few carp to around twelve pounds but i had seen some a lot bigger but you were always on edge if it had just been myself it would not been to bad, i suppose the year was around the middle seventies there was about four of us fishing on the pool, i pulled off as it was obvious that some one was fishing the lake and any keeper worth his salt could see that by just looking at the undergrowth, a few years before i had poached this estate for the rabbits and pheasants i was always very careful as i said before it was quite heavily keeperd i knew the one keeper who was a friend and i got quite a bit of information from him, he knew i did a bit of poaching and he would warn me off. As a friend i felt a bit guilty when i took a few pheasants because of our friendship but that was years ago it was a necessity then so we could live, i had no car then only my bike which i would hid behind the big wall that surrounded the estate i remember the local bobby chasing me this one night his name was Sid betts he was rather a large man. And was not as fast as me on his cycle and i lost him down the back lanes but it all added to the excitement. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #185
As we sat in the car yesterday we watched the geese pass over head they were grey lags and Canada's all going in to rest on the old quarry pool they have been arriving in one or two big skeins, more than i saw this time last year i really wonder if the approaching weather has some factor to do with it, there also seems to be a fair amount of teal and other wild fowl being seen i wonder if conditions abroad IE cold weather has moved them over to Britain a lot earlier than normal
We were infact putting grain into the feeders on our small pheasant shoot i can not do much lifting my self but managed to bring a few bags of grain from the farm in the back of my 4=4 i had other members of the syndicate helping so i never did any real lifting myself, grain has shot up in price this year last year we paid eighty pounds a ton this year it is one hundred and thirty quite a big jump my poor old mate tony who runs the shoot with me has been quite poorly over the last month, he has now been told he has rheumatoid arthritis yesterday his hands were severely swollen and he was in great pain i felt very sorry for him as he has always been such an active sort of man i know how he feels because it has happened to me i watched as he limped about he is not the sort that will pack in but i must admit there are days when i have felt like packing fishing and shooting in, then i think god its been my life and i struggle on. Life is to sweet to many things i want to do when i come home tired and knackered which i do quite regularly and the wife says i told you so i say no its my age and not my illness, but deep down i know its my arthritis that causes most of my problems, what a knackered old lot we are in our syndicate. we have a few more members with the same sort of problems but we all try and get on with our lives we are like a bunch of geriatrics, but what binds us together is our love of the country side and our fishing and shooting i have known most for many years and regard them as good friends.
our little shoot
the woods on our shoot
Some of the lakes in Shropshire are really short of water and some of the smallest pools have nearly dried up we desperately need rain i was talking to an ex keeper yesterday who now looks after a carp, lake he was telling me about the poaching he was experiencing some one had been setting night lines to catch the carp whether to eat he did not know he thinks it may be some gypsies that are living locally Irish, but i am not convinced it is them, as there has been quite a lot of fish movement going on in the area, i thought we had seen the last of this but it seems to be rearing its ugly head once again one lake not far from my home has lost a number of fish mainly the bigger ones in the upper thirties i really feel for the syndicate i believe the law has been involved but how can you prove who took them very difficult well that's it for now. more a little latter
As we sat in the car yesterday we watched the geese pass over head they were grey lags and Canada's all going in to rest on the old quarry pool they have been arriving in one or two big skeins, more than i saw this time last year i really wonder if the approaching weather has some factor to do with it, there also seems to be a fair amount of teal and other wild fowl being seen i wonder if conditions abroad IE cold weather has moved them over to Britain a lot earlier than normal
We were infact putting grain into the feeders on our small pheasant shoot i can not do much lifting my self but managed to bring a few bags of grain from the farm in the back of my 4=4 i had other members of the syndicate helping so i never did any real lifting myself, grain has shot up in price this year last year we paid eighty pounds a ton this year it is one hundred and thirty quite a big jump my poor old mate tony who runs the shoot with me has been quite poorly over the last month, he has now been told he has rheumatoid arthritis yesterday his hands were severely swollen and he was in great pain i felt very sorry for him as he has always been such an active sort of man i know how he feels because it has happened to me i watched as he limped about he is not the sort that will pack in but i must admit there are days when i have felt like packing fishing and shooting in, then i think god its been my life and i struggle on. Life is to sweet to many things i want to do when i come home tired and knackered which i do quite regularly and the wife says i told you so i say no its my age and not my illness, but deep down i know its my arthritis that causes most of my problems, what a knackered old lot we are in our syndicate. we have a few more members with the same sort of problems but we all try and get on with our lives we are like a bunch of geriatrics, but what binds us together is our love of the country side and our fishing and shooting i have known most for many years and regard them as good friends.
our little shoot
the woods on our shoot
Some of the lakes in Shropshire are really short of water and some of the smallest pools have nearly dried up we desperately need rain i was talking to an ex keeper yesterday who now looks after a carp, lake he was telling me about the poaching he was experiencing some one had been setting night lines to catch the carp whether to eat he did not know he thinks it may be some gypsies that are living locally Irish, but i am not convinced it is them, as there has been quite a lot of fish movement going on in the area, i thought we had seen the last of this but it seems to be rearing its ugly head once again one lake not far from my home has lost a number of fish mainly the bigger ones in the upper thirties i really feel for the syndicate i believe the law has been involved but how can you prove who took them very difficult well that's it for now. more a little latter
In reply to Post #186
Over the years i have had a few funny things happen while fishing one such incident that sticks in my mind was fishing at lordys must have been late seventies early eighties i was fishing with a friend called George Kimberly we were set up in a double swim when we heard a noise behind us looking behind i could see a helicopter coming straight for us only about twenty feet up Christ George its going to hit the trees, before we could move he was over us i looked up it looked huge from where we sat he blew the rods off the rests into the water and poor old George fell off his chair the pilot must of realized what he had done and came around in a circle and hovered over the lake just in front of us i think he was quite sorry as he opened the door and shouted something then put up his hand gave us a wave and away he went, to be honest i could not keep a straight face and could not stop laughing mainly at my mate who had to extract him self out of the reeds George recons he was blown of his sun lounger but i thought he fell off in shock. Another incident on the same lake George was with me once again we were sitting in the swim all set up when we heard this almighty roar over our heads looking up it was a hot air balloon for some reason he could not gain height i said George he is going to hit that big oak tree they could not avoid hitting it. they crashed into the top of this big tree tipping the basket on its side emptying the occupants out they all fell through the big tree onto the field below we left the rods and ran over to see if we could help i was expecting to find some severely injured but no they were all alright there were five in all a bit bruised and shaken .
A fish from lordys
Another incident that i can remember was graham and myself fishing a night on bomere it must have been in the sixties we had only got the old sun loungers no alarms only bread bobbins as indicators in those days you could stop fishing at midnight as the lake would cut off you would not get another bite until first light so in came the rods we both had a cuppa and after a pipe full, it was to sleep we only had a blanket and a piece off canvas and umbrella to keep off the damp we had been asleep maybe an hour when i felt warm breath on my face opening my eyes i saw this big white face i gave one shout and almost fell off my chair the umbrella which was over the top off me flew off and disappeared into the night what was that graham, i was shaking from head to toe looking up the bank behind us using the torch you could see the culprit the white horse from the farm with my umbrella stuck on his head we both fell about laughing the poor old horse was shaking his head trying to remove it we did manage to get it back in one piece. well thats it for now a bit more latter
One from Bomere late sixties
Over the years i have had a few funny things happen while fishing one such incident that sticks in my mind was fishing at lordys must have been late seventies early eighties i was fishing with a friend called George Kimberly we were set up in a double swim when we heard a noise behind us looking behind i could see a helicopter coming straight for us only about twenty feet up Christ George its going to hit the trees, before we could move he was over us i looked up it looked huge from where we sat he blew the rods off the rests into the water and poor old George fell off his chair the pilot must of realized what he had done and came around in a circle and hovered over the lake just in front of us i think he was quite sorry as he opened the door and shouted something then put up his hand gave us a wave and away he went, to be honest i could not keep a straight face and could not stop laughing mainly at my mate who had to extract him self out of the reeds George recons he was blown of his sun lounger but i thought he fell off in shock. Another incident on the same lake George was with me once again we were sitting in the swim all set up when we heard this almighty roar over our heads looking up it was a hot air balloon for some reason he could not gain height i said George he is going to hit that big oak tree they could not avoid hitting it. they crashed into the top of this big tree tipping the basket on its side emptying the occupants out they all fell through the big tree onto the field below we left the rods and ran over to see if we could help i was expecting to find some severely injured but no they were all alright there were five in all a bit bruised and shaken .
A fish from lordys
Another incident that i can remember was graham and myself fishing a night on bomere it must have been in the sixties we had only got the old sun loungers no alarms only bread bobbins as indicators in those days you could stop fishing at midnight as the lake would cut off you would not get another bite until first light so in came the rods we both had a cuppa and after a pipe full, it was to sleep we only had a blanket and a piece off canvas and umbrella to keep off the damp we had been asleep maybe an hour when i felt warm breath on my face opening my eyes i saw this big white face i gave one shout and almost fell off my chair the umbrella which was over the top off me flew off and disappeared into the night what was that graham, i was shaking from head to toe looking up the bank behind us using the torch you could see the culprit the white horse from the farm with my umbrella stuck on his head we both fell about laughing the poor old horse was shaking his head trying to remove it we did manage to get it back in one piece. well thats it for now a bit more latter
One from Bomere late sixties
In reply to Post #187
When i think back it only seems a short while a go when i poached what we knew as the honey meadow it was in front of the old quarry on my village and was then owned Mr Harper it was an over spill from bomere as the lake used to flood a lot in the forties and fifties, it was full of eels but the problem was the keeper fed it for his ducks so the only way i could catch them was with night lines big bunches of lob worms chucked out and pegged down i caught my fair share they were eaten in those days it was nothing to catch ten, i would take them home alive in a bucket of water and kill them and skin at home a lot of neighbours in the years after the war would eat them. i have told you all previously how i would shoot Gerry's ducks i was not very sporting and shot them as they fed but we were short of food in those days so they were very welcome.
another from bomere from years ago
There are still some on my village can remember me poaching those ducks they would arrive in there hundreds mostly big fat mallard Gerry would come down every day to feed them then he would be away to the local the three fishes and would stay there until ten pm then ride his old motor cycle back home so you had plenty of time to bag a few in the beginning i would use an air rifle but when i acquired my first shot gun which was a webley four ten i used that although it was a bit noisy it did the job i was only sixteen at the time i think my first licence was seven shillings and sixpence, at the times i had to get into the water to fetch a duck god in winter it was cold but i could not afford to leave any dead birds as it would warn the keeper all was not right i am afraid that pool is no longer there filled in by the quarry owners tarmac at its deepest it was only about three or four feet but gin clear but in those days it was a wonderful place and i spent many hours down there.
A friend of mine had a four ten walking stick a true poachers gun you could walk through the wood on the public foot path see a pheasant in the under growth point the stick bang old jack shot a few birds like that he died a few years ago i wondered what happened to that old stick, when i acquired my first twelve bore shot gun he gave me loads of cartridge he used to be in the home guard and kept a lot back they were white in colour, I would cycle miles to fish and poached most of the estate lakes around shrewsbury i would mostly float fish in those days most lakes were covered in lilies not like today most have gone because of water sports and such Bomere was covered in beautiful lilies in the bay opposite the keepers cottage the water was a complete mass of these beautiful flowers but now they have long gone i would find a hole between the big lily leaves and float fish i caught a few good roach i would use bread paste or maggots i would cycle to town and buy six pennies worth the shop keeper would put them in a brown paper bag i would carefully put them in my saddle bag and transfer them into a oxo tin when i got home i suppose i would be about fifteen maybe sixteen years old at the time but it was years latter before i came to grips with the carp it held.
A fish from acton burnell years ago
I would cycle to acton burnell and spent some happy hours fishing both lakes i was a bit lucky as i got to know the keeper mr owlet and he allowed me to go as long as it was not the shooting season but before i had permission i poached it but i never did much good in those early years only catching small pike but in latter years we caught some really good carp that was years before rob hales got it to be honest i fished where i wanted and was very lucky i never got caught as most lakes were owned by the big shropshire estates and were strictly private another lake i fished was in the ground of this wonderful old black and white hall it was full of carp not huge i suppose the biggest i had was around four pounds but it was right beside the hall to those in the know it was pitchford i had a few pheasants from that place using my old method of fishing line and hook baited with sultana they walked around like chickens a li
When i think back it only seems a short while a go when i poached what we knew as the honey meadow it was in front of the old quarry on my village and was then owned Mr Harper it was an over spill from bomere as the lake used to flood a lot in the forties and fifties, it was full of eels but the problem was the keeper fed it for his ducks so the only way i could catch them was with night lines big bunches of lob worms chucked out and pegged down i caught my fair share they were eaten in those days it was nothing to catch ten, i would take them home alive in a bucket of water and kill them and skin at home a lot of neighbours in the years after the war would eat them. i have told you all previously how i would shoot Gerry's ducks i was not very sporting and shot them as they fed but we were short of food in those days so they were very welcome.
another from bomere from years ago
There are still some on my village can remember me poaching those ducks they would arrive in there hundreds mostly big fat mallard Gerry would come down every day to feed them then he would be away to the local the three fishes and would stay there until ten pm then ride his old motor cycle back home so you had plenty of time to bag a few in the beginning i would use an air rifle but when i acquired my first shot gun which was a webley four ten i used that although it was a bit noisy it did the job i was only sixteen at the time i think my first licence was seven shillings and sixpence, at the times i had to get into the water to fetch a duck god in winter it was cold but i could not afford to leave any dead birds as it would warn the keeper all was not right i am afraid that pool is no longer there filled in by the quarry owners tarmac at its deepest it was only about three or four feet but gin clear but in those days it was a wonderful place and i spent many hours down there.
A friend of mine had a four ten walking stick a true poachers gun you could walk through the wood on the public foot path see a pheasant in the under growth point the stick bang old jack shot a few birds like that he died a few years ago i wondered what happened to that old stick, when i acquired my first twelve bore shot gun he gave me loads of cartridge he used to be in the home guard and kept a lot back they were white in colour, I would cycle miles to fish and poached most of the estate lakes around shrewsbury i would mostly float fish in those days most lakes were covered in lilies not like today most have gone because of water sports and such Bomere was covered in beautiful lilies in the bay opposite the keepers cottage the water was a complete mass of these beautiful flowers but now they have long gone i would find a hole between the big lily leaves and float fish i caught a few good roach i would use bread paste or maggots i would cycle to town and buy six pennies worth the shop keeper would put them in a brown paper bag i would carefully put them in my saddle bag and transfer them into a oxo tin when i got home i suppose i would be about fifteen maybe sixteen years old at the time but it was years latter before i came to grips with the carp it held.
A fish from acton burnell years agoI would cycle to acton burnell and spent some happy hours fishing both lakes i was a bit lucky as i got to know the keeper mr owlet and he allowed me to go as long as it was not the shooting season but before i had permission i poached it but i never did much good in those early years only catching small pike but in latter years we caught some really good carp that was years before rob hales got it to be honest i fished where i wanted and was very lucky i never got caught as most lakes were owned by the big shropshire estates and were strictly private another lake i fished was in the ground of this wonderful old black and white hall it was full of carp not huge i suppose the biggest i had was around four pounds but it was right beside the hall to those in the know it was pitchford i had a few pheasants from that place using my old method of fishing line and hook baited with sultana they walked around like chickens a li
In reply to Post #189
went down the woods on Saturday took my wagon down beside the big lake there were about eight fishing on the far bank. there was one bivie my side asking if he had caught he just shook his head, i don't know if the rest caught, i was really there to take bags of corn down to a feed bin which is about half way down in the side we call the strip after the lads had removed the corn tony graham and i continued on down to the end of the lake i will admit English nature have made a good job this side i really wanted to check on the badgers they have a huge set at the end of the strip in a big embankment, how many it holds i don't know its been there for generations it was there when i was a youngster i would be about five years old when i first went down there with my mother in those days it was to pick the primroses they absolutely smothered the wood it was a sea of yellow we were not supposed to have been there as it was strictly private. When i was young you could not get to the side of the lake where i now parked my car it was under water in those days, if you look at it today its lost so much water due to the quarries we have two one stone, the other sand, both are well below the water table and lots of the water from the lake has seeped into both quarries both are full of water the owners and English nature have now blocked the the pipe that is used for an overflow from the lake, hoping with a bit of rain it may fill up. English nature are very worried about the low level but it wont make any difference as i say they are losing the water to all the quarrying going on around the lake.
Funny really i stood at the side of that old lake and thought of how it was years ago when i poached it, i usually fished the other side it was a lot easier to get your rod out between the big old oak trees, that lined the one side the strip was a bit more difficult although i did fish from this side it was very bogey in places, and you had to watch where you put your feet it was that so bad all the ground would wobble and shake and if you stood in one place to long you started to sink. It was this side that a lad called Gerald and myself were seen by Sgt landers who was helping Gerry with the shoot they chased us and this is where poor old Gerald fell into a hornets nest which put him in hospital for a few hours he was covered in stings and came up in lumps all over his face and legs i had a job to stop him crying we did manage to get away hiding in this big culvert but i have already told you all about that in part one of my stories, i had a look up the big tree where the buzzard had nested she has reared her young here for decades she is still using the nest site and had reared four chicks again this year although we shoot, these birds don't worry us as most of our syndicate like the wild life and are conservationists, the deer have returned to the woods i have see two or three myself and you can see where they have walked on the muddy ground beside the lakes leaving there foot prints in the form of slots, i am thinking of putting some infra red cameras down the woods hoping for some shots of badgers and old foxy maybe the deer to, i am trying them out at home at the moment but when i get used to them ill set them up some where down the woods and see what we get. well a bit more latter
went down the woods on Saturday took my wagon down beside the big lake there were about eight fishing on the far bank. there was one bivie my side asking if he had caught he just shook his head, i don't know if the rest caught, i was really there to take bags of corn down to a feed bin which is about half way down in the side we call the strip after the lads had removed the corn tony graham and i continued on down to the end of the lake i will admit English nature have made a good job this side i really wanted to check on the badgers they have a huge set at the end of the strip in a big embankment, how many it holds i don't know its been there for generations it was there when i was a youngster i would be about five years old when i first went down there with my mother in those days it was to pick the primroses they absolutely smothered the wood it was a sea of yellow we were not supposed to have been there as it was strictly private. When i was young you could not get to the side of the lake where i now parked my car it was under water in those days, if you look at it today its lost so much water due to the quarries we have two one stone, the other sand, both are well below the water table and lots of the water from the lake has seeped into both quarries both are full of water the owners and English nature have now blocked the the pipe that is used for an overflow from the lake, hoping with a bit of rain it may fill up. English nature are very worried about the low level but it wont make any difference as i say they are losing the water to all the quarrying going on around the lake.
Funny really i stood at the side of that old lake and thought of how it was years ago when i poached it, i usually fished the other side it was a lot easier to get your rod out between the big old oak trees, that lined the one side the strip was a bit more difficult although i did fish from this side it was very bogey in places, and you had to watch where you put your feet it was that so bad all the ground would wobble and shake and if you stood in one place to long you started to sink. It was this side that a lad called Gerald and myself were seen by Sgt landers who was helping Gerry with the shoot they chased us and this is where poor old Gerald fell into a hornets nest which put him in hospital for a few hours he was covered in stings and came up in lumps all over his face and legs i had a job to stop him crying we did manage to get away hiding in this big culvert but i have already told you all about that in part one of my stories, i had a look up the big tree where the buzzard had nested she has reared her young here for decades she is still using the nest site and had reared four chicks again this year although we shoot, these birds don't worry us as most of our syndicate like the wild life and are conservationists, the deer have returned to the woods i have see two or three myself and you can see where they have walked on the muddy ground beside the lakes leaving there foot prints in the form of slots, i am thinking of putting some infra red cameras down the woods hoping for some shots of badgers and old foxy maybe the deer to, i am trying them out at home at the moment but when i get used to them ill set them up some where down the woods and see what we get. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #190
I loved to walk in hill country it was there i got to know a farmer who had a small lake it was only about two acres but a beautiful looking lake he said it held some fair sized carp so it was not long before i had a go at fishing the place the farmer did not want any one night fishing only days i caught some beautiful mirrors biggest i caught was 23 pounds but there were a lot bigger fish in the lake it also held two big shoals of golden orfe with some very big fish amongst them unfortunately when i was fishing the place the farmer got poached and the one shoal went missing the lake was a couple of fields away from the house. They got in over the fence that was erected around the side of the lake and netted the water they did not bother with the carp only the golden orfe, how they were not seen i don't know as they must of a had a pick up or such with tanks on the back but i suppose it was in hill country which could be a bit quite not many around at night.
a friend caught this pretty fish from the lake
Pete he said can you tell me how i can secure the place not an easy thing up there but i explained all about trip wires and such he ended up with infra red cameras on a couple of trees over looking the lake with a few trip wires it was a beautiful place, where i spent some happy hours it was in a valley surrounded by hills but the owner never had much luck i went fishing with a friend this one morning on arrival i could not believe my eyes there was complete carnage carp lying out on the bank not one but at least twenty, all dead, a few had chunks ripped out of there belly's the farmer had one big problem an otter i soon found where he was lying up under a big old oak tree, i say he because that's what he was a dog otter he was on his travels looking for a bitch but he had stayed on the lake, personally i have never witnessed anything like it it was complete devastation why the farmer had not picked the otter up on his cameras i don't know but on having a look he had them to high up in the trees it would catch approaching humans but not otters i felt real sorry for the chap what can i do Pete i said don't ring the ea as they would put a protection order on the water, the otter eventually moved on and as far as i know he has had no more trouble the water took a long time to recover , there was no stream running into the lake so that otter must of traveled over dry land the nearest small river was at least six miles away, but dog otters will travel miles looking for a bitch to pair up with i am still friends with the farmer he is about my age i think his sons do most of the work on the farm now it is mostly sheep farming the hill farmers are now getting a better price for there lambs and its not before time because they did have a really hard life some even were forced to take second jobs to make ends meet. well that's it for now a bit more latter
I loved to walk in hill country it was there i got to know a farmer who had a small lake it was only about two acres but a beautiful looking lake he said it held some fair sized carp so it was not long before i had a go at fishing the place the farmer did not want any one night fishing only days i caught some beautiful mirrors biggest i caught was 23 pounds but there were a lot bigger fish in the lake it also held two big shoals of golden orfe with some very big fish amongst them unfortunately when i was fishing the place the farmer got poached and the one shoal went missing the lake was a couple of fields away from the house. They got in over the fence that was erected around the side of the lake and netted the water they did not bother with the carp only the golden orfe, how they were not seen i don't know as they must of a had a pick up or such with tanks on the back but i suppose it was in hill country which could be a bit quite not many around at night.
a friend caught this pretty fish from the lake
Pete he said can you tell me how i can secure the place not an easy thing up there but i explained all about trip wires and such he ended up with infra red cameras on a couple of trees over looking the lake with a few trip wires it was a beautiful place, where i spent some happy hours it was in a valley surrounded by hills but the owner never had much luck i went fishing with a friend this one morning on arrival i could not believe my eyes there was complete carnage carp lying out on the bank not one but at least twenty, all dead, a few had chunks ripped out of there belly's the farmer had one big problem an otter i soon found where he was lying up under a big old oak tree, i say he because that's what he was a dog otter he was on his travels looking for a bitch but he had stayed on the lake, personally i have never witnessed anything like it it was complete devastation why the farmer had not picked the otter up on his cameras i don't know but on having a look he had them to high up in the trees it would catch approaching humans but not otters i felt real sorry for the chap what can i do Pete i said don't ring the ea as they would put a protection order on the water, the otter eventually moved on and as far as i know he has had no more trouble the water took a long time to recover , there was no stream running into the lake so that otter must of traveled over dry land the nearest small river was at least six miles away, but dog otters will travel miles looking for a bitch to pair up with i am still friends with the farmer he is about my age i think his sons do most of the work on the farm now it is mostly sheep farming the hill farmers are now getting a better price for there lambs and its not before time because they did have a really hard life some even were forced to take second jobs to make ends meet. well that's it for now a bit more latter
In reply to Post #191
Yesterday morning saw me down the woods with our small syndicate i can not believe how the leaves are still on the trees some are still green and we are now in November i was really thrilled to see loads of ducks come off our flight pool mostly all teal a good two hundred there was a good showing of pheasants it was our first morning nothing serious just a walk around for those that can, the problem is most of our syndicate are from the older generation they all shoot and fish my oldest member is eighty years old, but we all bear the same problems arthritis. We are not the good shots that we used to be me included, but our syndicate is not just about shooting its used as a meeting place where we can all get together and have a good chat about the past and the present one thing we all have is a deep love of the countryside and a passion for its wild life i have known most of the members for years we have shot and fished together most of our adult lives i personally have had this syndicate for the last thirty four years and some of our members are the same ones i started with, because of my health my good friend tony helps me out running the place but he is no better and is now suffering from the same thing as myself osteoarthritis which effects people in different ways i was very unlucky mine started at the age of 39 years but i persevered with it and never let it get the better of me.
As i stood and watched our guns it brought back many happy memories just behind me was the small lake called shomere its where i used to poach in my younger days, looking to my left is where the keeper old Gerry had his main release pen that was over fifty years ago god i had a few of his birds from that pen, its the same lake that i would see the gents an ladies dressed up in there tweeds shooting the ducks that came into the the lake god they were posh and all spoke as thought they had a plum in there mouths, but i had a few of those ducks before the dogs even got there. Its the same small lake that i fished years before it was strictly private but i would hide in the under growth and reeds. I float fished for the Rudd and bream i caught some good bags of bream nothing huge four or five pounds but good fishing i suppose i was about seventeen at the time i would watch as the game keeper gerry came down to feed his pheasants, and ducks, he would leave buckets of boiled potatoes mixed with barley in the shallow water at the edge of the lake i watches as big flocks of mallard arrived to feed off his offerings they were great days i was never caught once, but i had a few near escapes and have had old gerry fire his old gun over my head but with today's laws he would not of got away with doing that, but most of the keepers were the same when i was young guarding against trespassers the birds were there priority and livelihood. well a bit more latter
Yesterday morning saw me down the woods with our small syndicate i can not believe how the leaves are still on the trees some are still green and we are now in November i was really thrilled to see loads of ducks come off our flight pool mostly all teal a good two hundred there was a good showing of pheasants it was our first morning nothing serious just a walk around for those that can, the problem is most of our syndicate are from the older generation they all shoot and fish my oldest member is eighty years old, but we all bear the same problems arthritis. We are not the good shots that we used to be me included, but our syndicate is not just about shooting its used as a meeting place where we can all get together and have a good chat about the past and the present one thing we all have is a deep love of the countryside and a passion for its wild life i have known most of the members for years we have shot and fished together most of our adult lives i personally have had this syndicate for the last thirty four years and some of our members are the same ones i started with, because of my health my good friend tony helps me out running the place but he is no better and is now suffering from the same thing as myself osteoarthritis which effects people in different ways i was very unlucky mine started at the age of 39 years but i persevered with it and never let it get the better of me.
As i stood and watched our guns it brought back many happy memories just behind me was the small lake called shomere its where i used to poach in my younger days, looking to my left is where the keeper old Gerry had his main release pen that was over fifty years ago god i had a few of his birds from that pen, its the same lake that i would see the gents an ladies dressed up in there tweeds shooting the ducks that came into the the lake god they were posh and all spoke as thought they had a plum in there mouths, but i had a few of those ducks before the dogs even got there. Its the same small lake that i fished years before it was strictly private but i would hide in the under growth and reeds. I float fished for the Rudd and bream i caught some good bags of bream nothing huge four or five pounds but good fishing i suppose i was about seventeen at the time i would watch as the game keeper gerry came down to feed his pheasants, and ducks, he would leave buckets of boiled potatoes mixed with barley in the shallow water at the edge of the lake i watches as big flocks of mallard arrived to feed off his offerings they were great days i was never caught once, but i had a few near escapes and have had old gerry fire his old gun over my head but with today's laws he would not of got away with doing that, but most of the keepers were the same when i was young guarding against trespassers the birds were there priority and livelihood. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #192
When i was a youngster i would get really exited when i went fishing it certainly beat school i would play truant at every opportunity just to be by the river or lake it was my whole life i slept and dreamt about fishing i did get caught eventually and had three lashes of the cane on both hands i am sure my head master really enjoyed giving us youngsters the stick but i can honestly say it stopped me playing truant again, so i spent most of my free time up the river or on some lake it was a wonderful time in my life i had my bike and would tie the rod or rods to my cross bar and with only a bag on my back i would cycle miles to fish some long forgotten river or lake ,in the beautiful country side of south Shropshire, i would cycle as far away as bishops castle a long old plod from my home at craven arms i think i fished every lake within a radius of ten or so miles i would cycle a few mile to stretford and fish the small river i mostly span for the trout it held i had some wonderful days fishing that stretch of river you would see no one all day although the fishing was private i never got caught i would sit by that foaming river and eat my sandwiches a drink my bottle of pop they were hazy, lazy, days i have even caught perch from this part of the river i used to stare in wonder at this beautiful fish then return it and watch it swim away most people would eat it in those days but i could not see such a lovely fish killed.
In those long gone days i could take home as may as twenty or so trout they were never wasted and all was eaten by our selves and our neighbors, it was quite a wrench when we moved back to the village of my birth Bayston hill where i still reside i was about fourteen and it is where i really got into poaching i fished the mighty Severn the river Rea and all of the surrounding lakes i spent hours fishing the condover brook for the brown trout i would mostly fish it at night as it was strictly private and was looked after by old Frank Bell the keeper he was a good game keeper and would stand no messing and if he thought he had got a poacher he would ring the police station from the old phone box in the village and it was not long before two or three policemen joined the chase it really gave my adrenaline a big boost i never ever got caught and i loved the chase nearly as much as fishing i would hide up a tree or lie hidden under a bridge or even in a ditch and listened to them all chatting at times and have nearly burst out laughing at some of things they were saying about me they knew it was me but could not prove it i did get a bit embarrassed when the Sgt went to see my parents asking where i had been the night before they never once let me down i would get a bit of a telling off because they were frightened i might get caught, but they never said no to the fish i brought home every thing was shared with our neighbours and friends as the times were still quite hard. well a bit more latter
When i was a youngster i would get really exited when i went fishing it certainly beat school i would play truant at every opportunity just to be by the river or lake it was my whole life i slept and dreamt about fishing i did get caught eventually and had three lashes of the cane on both hands i am sure my head master really enjoyed giving us youngsters the stick but i can honestly say it stopped me playing truant again, so i spent most of my free time up the river or on some lake it was a wonderful time in my life i had my bike and would tie the rod or rods to my cross bar and with only a bag on my back i would cycle miles to fish some long forgotten river or lake ,in the beautiful country side of south Shropshire, i would cycle as far away as bishops castle a long old plod from my home at craven arms i think i fished every lake within a radius of ten or so miles i would cycle a few mile to stretford and fish the small river i mostly span for the trout it held i had some wonderful days fishing that stretch of river you would see no one all day although the fishing was private i never got caught i would sit by that foaming river and eat my sandwiches a drink my bottle of pop they were hazy, lazy, days i have even caught perch from this part of the river i used to stare in wonder at this beautiful fish then return it and watch it swim away most people would eat it in those days but i could not see such a lovely fish killed.
In those long gone days i could take home as may as twenty or so trout they were never wasted and all was eaten by our selves and our neighbors, it was quite a wrench when we moved back to the village of my birth Bayston hill where i still reside i was about fourteen and it is where i really got into poaching i fished the mighty Severn the river Rea and all of the surrounding lakes i spent hours fishing the condover brook for the brown trout i would mostly fish it at night as it was strictly private and was looked after by old Frank Bell the keeper he was a good game keeper and would stand no messing and if he thought he had got a poacher he would ring the police station from the old phone box in the village and it was not long before two or three policemen joined the chase it really gave my adrenaline a big boost i never ever got caught and i loved the chase nearly as much as fishing i would hide up a tree or lie hidden under a bridge or even in a ditch and listened to them all chatting at times and have nearly burst out laughing at some of things they were saying about me they knew it was me but could not prove it i did get a bit embarrassed when the Sgt went to see my parents asking where i had been the night before they never once let me down i would get a bit of a telling off because they were frightened i might get caught, but they never said no to the fish i brought home every thing was shared with our neighbours and friends as the times were still quite hard. well a bit more latter
In reply to Post #193
Just read the thread old school carp fishing got me thinking a bit when i first started i suppose i was only about eight years old it was chuck it and chance it i did have the tank aerials rods that a friend of my father had made up for me as young lads we would cycle miles i can still remember the excitement of it all our tackle was crude old wooden reels i have said it all before, i would sleep under the stars not a clue what we were doing we would lie on an old sack with a, army blanket wrapped around our body to keep us warm at times it was very cold we would then move to the farm buildings and sleep in the hay loft the owner was a chap called Sid Evans he liked to see us youngsters on his lake and would not take any fee for the fishing, he would bring us big bottles of home made ginger beer and at times bring us packets of biscuits and crisps, there was a few adults fishing the lake and they would turn up on there motor bikes some slept in tents they would pack up fishing as darkness fell and resume first light but i must admit i never saw them catch much. One lad i went to school with was always down the lake his name was Chris dodd we would sit and watch the carp in the weed beds and throw them big chunks of bread you would watch as the carp knocked the bread around until; it was small enough to swallow you could hear the slurping and sucking noise they made as they sucked the bread in. Chris and i and my friend ray decided we would give floating bread a go in the weed beds we mounted the bread crust on our big old eel hooks uncoiled the line behind us dunk the bread in the water then gave it then big chuck sometimes the bread came off other time pieces of grass tangled your line but we learned and got it out there it was exiting fishing you would sit on the grass beside your rod which was put in a forked stick cut out the hedge, you watched so full of excitement as the carp, approached the bread they would push it around until it was the right size then you watched as a big pair of lips sucked in your piece of bread, the line would straighten, up with your rod and strike some time you were lucky you would be in others you missed it was a job extracting them out of the weed bed we had no landing nets then so we got them into the shallows and lifted them out by hand.
At times we had an audience watching giving us all sorts of advice the fish we caught were not big by today's standard three or four pounds we never had any scales in those days one of the adults would fetch his pair they were a bit crude but did the job, we were the very first to catch on floating bread and there was a bit of jealousy because we were catching and others were not, we tried something different and it worked but every time we went from then on some other angler would be fishing that weed bed. we managed to get around that by fishing from the other side sid never let anyone fish the far side but gave us permission they were lovely days and at times i still dream about fishing that lake the biggest carp we caught was ten pounds which was weighted on SIDS fruit scales a big fish for those days the year was 1950. well thats it for now more latter
Just read the thread old school carp fishing got me thinking a bit when i first started i suppose i was only about eight years old it was chuck it and chance it i did have the tank aerials rods that a friend of my father had made up for me as young lads we would cycle miles i can still remember the excitement of it all our tackle was crude old wooden reels i have said it all before, i would sleep under the stars not a clue what we were doing we would lie on an old sack with a, army blanket wrapped around our body to keep us warm at times it was very cold we would then move to the farm buildings and sleep in the hay loft the owner was a chap called Sid Evans he liked to see us youngsters on his lake and would not take any fee for the fishing, he would bring us big bottles of home made ginger beer and at times bring us packets of biscuits and crisps, there was a few adults fishing the lake and they would turn up on there motor bikes some slept in tents they would pack up fishing as darkness fell and resume first light but i must admit i never saw them catch much. One lad i went to school with was always down the lake his name was Chris dodd we would sit and watch the carp in the weed beds and throw them big chunks of bread you would watch as the carp knocked the bread around until; it was small enough to swallow you could hear the slurping and sucking noise they made as they sucked the bread in. Chris and i and my friend ray decided we would give floating bread a go in the weed beds we mounted the bread crust on our big old eel hooks uncoiled the line behind us dunk the bread in the water then gave it then big chuck sometimes the bread came off other time pieces of grass tangled your line but we learned and got it out there it was exiting fishing you would sit on the grass beside your rod which was put in a forked stick cut out the hedge, you watched so full of excitement as the carp, approached the bread they would push it around until it was the right size then you watched as a big pair of lips sucked in your piece of bread, the line would straighten, up with your rod and strike some time you were lucky you would be in others you missed it was a job extracting them out of the weed bed we had no landing nets then so we got them into the shallows and lifted them out by hand.
At times we had an audience watching giving us all sorts of advice the fish we caught were not big by today's standard three or four pounds we never had any scales in those days one of the adults would fetch his pair they were a bit crude but did the job, we were the very first to catch on floating bread and there was a bit of jealousy because we were catching and others were not, we tried something different and it worked but every time we went from then on some other angler would be fishing that weed bed. we managed to get around that by fishing from the other side sid never let anyone fish the far side but gave us permission they were lovely days and at times i still dream about fishing that lake the biggest carp we caught was ten pounds which was weighted on SIDS fruit scales a big fish for those days the year was 1950. well thats it for now more latter