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Short fishing stories

Golden Paws

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A lot of pleasure gained from fishing is the laughs that come along the way. Here is a collection of (short) stories or observations along the way.


A friend was fishing a river for barbel and may have been exceeding the dawn to dusk rules (by quite a fair way actually!) He spotted a car stop at the bridge and a few seconds later someone starting coming down the path with a torch. It could only be a bailiff checking for rule breakers! He quickly gathered his stuff together and hid in a bush. All would have been well but he had his Collie with him that night. The dog sensed the impending visitor and started to growl. To cover up, he put his hand around it's muzzle to silence it but it only succeeded in making the dogs growl become louder and more intimidating. When the bailiff was 50 yards away he immediately stopped in his tracks and fled in terror and the car did a wheel spin away. Tales of a local beast were probably told but he was never troubled after dark again!


I was told by a Yorkshire man of being checked by a Bailiff on a river and that he informed him that he had "just tossed off a couple of lads below the bridge!" Even before Saville, it just sounds all wrong!


Is it just me or does everyone else get dyslexic when they see a copy of Jim Shelly's Carping Uncut?


Strolled up to already busy Brasenose 1 and managed to get a swim. Got out the spod rod and clipped on a heavy probing lead and gave it the "biggun" to hit 100 yards plus. Suddenly realised that I shouldn't have been in such a rush and should have checked that I had taken the line out the clip from my last session as I had been fishing at 6 wraps so the spod would land just under the far bank trees on my local stream fed pond. The sound of sniggers were louder than the crack of the braid!


Many years ago, winter fishing clothing was monopolised by a John Watson one piece wax cotton suit as they were thermal lined and fairly waterproof. A friend got caught short whilst pike fishing on a Somerset drain and reached for the bog roll in his bag and disappeared to the nearest ditch. When he came back he commented that he couldn't find the residue of his exertions when he chucked the bog roll behind him but there was a strange smell coming from his hood!


Anyone else got any stories to share?

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