Martin Bowler’s Adventures
...and I’m pleased he’s lost none of his fire
takes us to Thailand for a session with Wilson!
IN SEPTEMBER 2013 I sat with John Wilson on the banks of the River Wye, fishing for barbel on what I believed to be my final trip with my ‘uncle’ (actually he’s my second cousin).
He was emigrating to Thailand, and it seemed our paths would never again cross. Life, however, had other plans.
John did indeed leave the UK for South East Asia shortly afterwards to enjoy his new bespoke home and lake, but I too somehow became a regular visitor to the Land of a Thousand Smiles! I wasn’t retiring, but helping to run Bowler’s Thai Fishing along with my wife Jo.
Truth be told, Wilson never really retired either. He continued to work for his Masterline sponsor as he had done for more than 35 years.
His four-acre lake was made home to a huge array of exotic species of fish, while the surrounding jungle bloomed into a tropical oasis.
If that wasn’t enough, John became a regular face on the Thai fishing scene, with Mekong catfish to 350lb and stingrays to 420lb testimony to his skills.
The spectacular Andaman Islands in the Bay of Bengal were within striking distance of his
ambitions, where he lost count of the number of huge black marlin he caught.
It’s fair to say John has been busy, and when I met up with him at the marvellous Jurassic Fishing Park, where my holiday business is based, I knew he would have plenty to report. After all, he had just announced that he and his wife – another Jo – were planning to return to the UK!
FAMOUS CHUCKLE
That famous chuckle, a hearty handshake and a warm hug greeted me as I walked into the clubhouse. Wilson had arrived, and was as jovial as ever.
“You’ve put the cat among the pigeons, coming back to the old country!” I said, keen to hear all the details. So, with two curries on the way, we began to natter.
“I had every intention of retiring here and I’ve loved every minute of it, but I went back to Norfolk recently and it dawned on Jo and me that we miss our family terribly,” he said.
“I want to teach the grandchildren to fish and watch them grow. I love the Tropics, and always have done, and my spell over there has been life-changing – but it’s time to go home.” Right on cue a huge arapaima tail-slapped the lake’s surface as
if to add weight to his words.
“I will never see the Thai project as a failure and will never regret it,” John continued. “It’s been a wonderful five years.”
That’s what I’ve always admired about John, his positivity and a chameleon-like ability to adapt to every situation life presents.
“Norfolk and Suffolk are our spiritual homes, and this is where the next adventure will be, although the Wye Valley is tempting,” he continued, with a twinkle in his eye.
“Wherever we end up, I want it to overlook a river.”
PREDATION
Knowing John very well, I knew how to get a bite: “So do you now believe the fish-predation issues in the UK, a major reason you left, have abated?” I asked, hoping my wry smile would temper his reply. It did – but not by much!
“Predators are a huge issue, but I can’t base my life solely around them,” he said. “There needs to be an immediate national cormorant cull and otter numbers have to be reduced – on that point our forefathers were right,” he said, rising to my bait as eagerly as a freshly-stocked trout.
I had to chuckle as I imagined angling politicos holding their heads in their hands. I’m outspoken, sometimes disliked for it, but that’s nothing compared to Wilson on the warpath!
“Welcome back!” I said. But he hadn’t quite finished.
“I’m not going to be involved in any war, but I’ll say exactly what I think and if somebody doesn’t like that, tough!” he said.
“My aim is to spend more time with the family and less time fishing, but if ever again I could enjoy long trotting for big roach I’d be a happy man.”
CHICKEN CARCASSES
Afternoon slipped quickly into night without a cast being made, but tomorrow would be different.
Not only were we hosting a carp match, but targeting the lake’s predators and getting back to what we both do best – catching fish!
As quietly as possible we crept to the water’s edge and lowered chicken carcasses down into the margins. Our respite from the hot Thai sun was a wooden sala (shelter), with breakfast brought to us from the clubhouse.
Over bacon and eggs the banter flowed as John inquired whether I wished to purchase one of his new Rovex Monster Tamer rods and if I was up to using a multiplier!
I had a suitably witty reply, but I never got to give it an airing – something had stolen my chicken!
“See, John, it’s you who’s past it!” I shouted. Yes, I should have kept my mouth shut. Not only did I lose the beast responsible when the hookhold failed, but the disaster was repeated four more times. How John laughed!
“Super, kid, what went wrong this time?” he chuckled.
It was something of a relief to me when Wilson’s turn came at last. “Uncle John to the rescue!” he cried as he engaged the reel.
An immediate savage headshake could mean only one thing – an arapaima. Unfortunately it only had eyes for a set of paddles to our left, and soon tangled John’s yellow 100lb D8 braid around it.
“‘I might be 75 but I’m not finished yet,” the old boy said, taking to the water. For a moment it looked as though he might indeed be finished, as he was dragged under by the fish while he attempted to free the tackle.
Happily, he was soon back in direct contact with the monster. This was a powerful creature but no match for Wilson, even when it leapt clear of the water and tried to snap his braid. With his prize safely in the net, John punched the air – and how we laughed!
Thailand offers incredible fishing opportunities and we’ll both continue to enjoy them, but I’m already looking forward to sitting beside the great man on a UK river and, of course, enjoying all the leg-pulling.