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Made in England
Mother Nature. But we’re not talking
about Mother Nature; we’re talking
about a distant relative – Uncle
Nature. There can be nobody who
carp fishes today who is not aware of
the incredible risks involved when
moving fish from one lake to another
– be it legally or illegally. Phrases like,
‘I only had the carp’s welfare in my
mind’ ring very hollow when you consider the welfare of the carp in the
new home of this fish. How many
deaths related to the stocking of certificated carp have we heard about in
the last decade, let alone those from
illegal stocking and fish transfer? I
find it so dangerous, and, basically,
irresponsible for such an action in this
day and age. As if we haven’t got
enough problems with predation to
deal with, to endanger the carp with
an act of such crass stupidity beggars
belief.
The thing is, the lakes are right
next to each other, maybe fifty feet
apart, so to put it back into the lake
from whence it came would surely
have been quite a simple task. It
makes you wonder if the fish had
been twenty pounds instead of fifty,
whether the outcome would have
been the same. But then, if it had
been that size it wouldn’t have been
54 FREE LINE
all over Facebook and on the front of
magazines. If it had been dropped
into another lake though, the dangers
would have been just the same.
Now, sure, there are no doubt carp
swimming around in new homes following the recent floods, but there is
nothing that we can do about that.
Mother Nature is a harsh mistress, as
we witnessed a couple of years ago
on Colnemere, so she doesn’t need
any help from us. The problem is,
now, that some well-meaning soul
could quite easily catch the Ditch
Fish and reintroduce it into its old
home, and that could be equally as
disastrous. Playing God is such a dangerous game, especially when you
don’t know all the rules.
Over the past weeks quite a few
fish have succumbed to the rigours of
spawning, with some large fish dying
as a result. In Ashmead, the Heart Tail
common, which I was eulogising
about a month ago, was found dead a
few days after the fish had finished
their annual ritual. It was extremely
sad, but fortunately that seems to
have been the only casualty so far.
I’ve also heard that the Thorpe Park
Common has died in Kingsmead, as
has the Big Dink in Longfield, and
down at Frensham one of the old
Leneys – Chop Dorsal – has also seen
its last summer. See, we don’t need to
get involved; She’s quite capable of
dealing out death and destruction all
by Herself.
Anyway, onto more cheerful tales,
and back to Trevor. Trev is a friend of
my son, Vince, and I’ve known him for
many years. His time on Wraysbury
over the past few years has been hard
but, on occasions, very rewarding (as
witnessed by his contribution in The
Wraysbury Chronicles). I’m normally
kept up to date with Trev’s successes
(and failures) by either the man himself, or by Vince. This time it was my
son-in-law who first told me of Trev’s
latest exploits, but then, about a week
later, the man himself phoned me to
tell me all about it. Even after that
time he was still absolutely buzzing,
and could barely get the words out.
He said he’d send over the photos and
a quick note as to what happened.
The ‘quick note’ turned into 1500
words and I think it wholly fitting that
he tell this story himself, so here it is –
The Powers of the Super Moon by
Trevor Johnson
It was the coming of the ‘Super
The cherry on Trev’s Wraysbury cake
– Paw Print at 43lb 12oz.

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