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A Series of Happy Accidents
by Keith Jenkins
S
erendipity; what a wonderful word, and one that
so well describes how
we, as anglers, live our
lives. The dictionary
describes it as ‘a happy
accident’ – how apt.
How many times have you turned
up at the lake, desperate to get into a
certain swim because you know that
you are going to catch, but on arrival
it is already occupied? Despondent,
you move into another swim you hadn’t given a thought to and, by the end
of the session you’ve had the fish of a
lifetime? Or the draw at the start of
the season… You have three swims
you really fancy, but coming out 20th
of 22 leaves you none of them, so you
slink into one of the corner swims that
Stunner! Reg with 31lb zip linear.
74 FREE LINE
is left and bag yourself an absolute
whacker. It’s more than just luck; it’s
serendipity, and I love it.
Cast your mind back a month, if
you will. I mentioned about going
angling with Reg to a large, unfished
lake in the Cotswolds, and was quite
excited by the prospect, but as is usually the way with Reg, nothing is quite
as it seems. Within a day or so of writing the article, Reg phoned me to say
that he’d spent a couple of days bobbing around on the lake, peering into
the crystal clear water and seen nothing, not even a roach. He’d scattered
some hemp and pellets in a few likely
areas, and on his return a few days
later, they remained uneaten. This
didn’t bode well for our little trip, so
he went onto Plan B, then Plan C, and
eventually Plan J, I think. He knew
someone who owned one of the many
lakes on the Water Park, but it was a
lake that wasn’t really open to the
public, just a select few friends and
mates of friends, and it seemed that
the two of us might just fit that
description. Phone calls were made,
then confirmed and so off I went,
along the M4 to Swindon on a Friday
afternoon. I arrived at about three, just
before Reg, and curbed my natural
desire to have a walk round the lake,
peering along its length from the west
end instead. It looked lovely, but only
time would tell. Reg soon arrived, as
did Jim, the owner, and he took us for
a stroll round, pointing out areas that
may produce a carp or two and being,
generally, very helpful. He then left us
to it and we were like two little school
kids, desperately trying to get our
gear together and be fishing before
the other. We set up in the face of a

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