FL11 All pages - Page 192

Split Between Two Counties and Two Farms!
No much happened after that, and
it was soon time to turn in. The next
thing I knew I was woken by a belter
on the right hand rod again. It was
pitch black and 4am. Busting for a
leak I had no choice but to multi-task,
but I’ll spare you the details. The fish
was giving a deep, plodding fight, and
was on for about 15 minutes. I netted
it first time, and could see it was
going to be a PB. I sorted the necessary out, unhooked it, and without
weighing it, sacked it, as I wanted to
get it back in the water. It was going
to be light soon, so I wanted to wait
for help rather than struggle on my
I waited until 5.45am, and I phoned
my good friend Scot Millbank. I was
welcomed by a very groggy, “Alright
mate, what you had then?” Firstly, I
said sorry for the early alarm call, but
that’s not what my face was saying, I
was grinning like a loony. “Give me 15
minutes and I’ll be there,” was the
response I got. I put on the kettle and
had a brew, and the next thing I could
see was Scot’s car. He had brought a
little helper in the shape of his eldest
daughter Josie. Whilst bringing in the
sack cords we both looked at each
other and I said to Scot, “Look at the
depth of that, mate.”
I unzipped the sack and at first did
33lb 8oz Cotton linear
not recognise that it was the Northern
Linear. The scales settled at 46lb 4oz,
and what a stunner, in mint condition,
and perfect colours. Thanks to Scot
and Josie for the early morning visit to
do the photos.
I continued throughout the winter
with no joy.
Back to Cotton 2009
I had a text from Lee, saying, “Does
your mate still want a ticket?” Well
what a tease followed that. I showed
the text to Stuart Parker, but only the
first few words… “What’s that?
Bloody show me the text!” I gave in
and showed him. To say he was
happy was an understatement. He
very quickly cut up an old RMC permit for the photo, and disappeared to
the nearest cashpoint for me to get
his ticket.
Cotton was long overdue a revisit,
so dates set and it was game on. I had
called Ash from Tails Up and ordered
a mixture of Pro Fish – sorted. I
arrived at the lake first and phoned
Stu, “I’m here mate.” I can’t repeat
word for word what was said about
that, but it was along the lines of,
“Blimey, you got there quick!” Whilst
waiting for Stu to arrive I just stood
there and took in the surroundings.
Office blocks, pub, building works and
the residence of some serious carp!
Some twenty minutes passed and I
could hear a car belting down the
approach road to the lake. Lo and
behold it was, as thought, Mr Parker.
One silly boy big cheesy grin was on
his face as he leapt out of his Clio
Sport. “Hello, boy,” came the usual
greeting from Stu, and a smell from
the car like it had just done a good
few laps on the Nurburgring – not surprising after he told me the speeds it
had just been doing.
Both itching to get stuck into the
fishing, we took a good look round
starting from the swims by the pub.
To cut a long story short we decided
on the swims known as the Big and
Little Beach. Obvious I know, but due
to the fact that fish were in the area. I
went for the swim on the right, as I
had seen fish along the reed line to
my right, and Stu went to the left.
I tried to keep disturbance to a minimum, as I did not want to spook the
fish present out of the area, so I opted
for a lead-only approach to see what
the bottom was like. There is and was
a fair amount of weed in the lake, but
I was able to find some spots quite
Right then, rods sorted, house up, a
few beers and a catch up with Stu,
and before I knew it the stomach was
screaming out for food. Pasta on, a
nice drop of red, and becoming
acquainted with the current members
fishing and paying a visit to the lake –


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