There’s only so much one man can take...
AFTER being told by friends that a lake was fishing well, I arrived early to have the lake to myself.
Half-an-hour later another angler arrived, sat in the next swim to me and spent the next hour tackling up three rods, putting up his bivvy and hammering rod rests into the ground.
He then walked over to me and told me I was in his usual swim and that I should do well, as he had been baiting up over the past two days. He then went back to his swim and introduced about five bags of boilies and eight spodfuls of bait before casting out his rods, nowhere near his feed.
Eventually he settled down to sleep, but not for long, and when he woke up he strolled over saying: “Quiet today!”
He told me he was here most weeks but had never done any good and was going to move, which he did, with his barrow straining under the weight.
To my horror, a little later he appeared on the opposite bank.
“This looks all right!” he shouted, before more buckets of bait went in. That was it – I packed up. As I was leaving, he shouted across: “Had enough then?”
Too right I had! Mick Coleman, Dagenham, Essex