ON THE BANK WITH LEGENDS
continued
the water, but I think he forgave me when the result was a lovely common and a thumbs-up from Hugh that he’d caught the scene on film.
This was one of so many special memories, and I can’t think of these two without saying: “Oh cabbages!” My sides split with laughter on the day we filmed Mullet Madness, and I still chuckle about it. How lucky I am to count HB aesu rgfnrhiae and anrnddds. Bernard as friends.
Is there an angler alive who doesn’t own an item of Drennan tP’saecitnkefllreu? Dernecnenan on angling has been, and always will be, immense, and without his sponsorship many of the incredible sights I have witnessed wouldn’t have been possible. Peter and his tackle company have been my angling rock, helping me on my incredible journey.
Pleasingly, our relationship isn’t solely business. As a friend I’ve enjoyed countless trips listening to Peter’s tales involving Walker, Stone and Taylor – the ultimate pantheon of angling stars. Together we have cast a line for Irish rudd and Dorset roach, but my favourite has to be a floodwater barbel mission to the Bristol Avon. Not only did Peter land a huge fish, but as we stood knee-deep in water he found out that his daughter Sally was expecting twins. For once this angling genius was lost for words!
We don’t treasure friendships enough until they’re gone, and in 2013 a good friend and possibly the greatest specimen angler ever, LampardpassedTerry away. ,
His place in history was ensured, but his death put an end to a decade of adventures that I shared wTiimth Nhoimrm anadn . We caught loads of big fish, but the stand-out moment must be Terry’s first 30lb pike. We had trudged through rain and mud, pushing each other on until his float sailed under to the pull of a huge Wye croc… a magic moment when grown men hugged and we all toasted his success.
And what was Terry’s secret behind his incredible string of personal bests? A special rig or bait? An unobtainable level of skill? None of these, just good old-fashioned bloody mindedness and determination.
I was given the brief for this article to celebrate angling traditions, so how could I finish wChitrhiosuYtamteesntioning ?
This lanky human heron is a Zen master of angling, whose very presence has a calming effect on my excitable nature. Little wonder, then, that of all the anglers I have ever cast a line with, only Chris can render grown men star-struck.
I believe he represents a world we would all like to inhabit but few can find. His words on both film and paper transport you to a better place, where just being beside a river or lake is more important than what you catch.
When you have a Redmire record carp, Casting at The Sun and A Passion For Angling on your CV, the word ‘legend’ is just not enough, and I’m lucky to count the man as a friend.
Not that I’m averse to telling Chris to put his cane rods on a bonfire and take one of my lovely Drennan models instead.
Our approach is very different, our personalities poles apart, but our love of angling unites us and makes every trip so much fun.
Whether we catch or not, the Kelly kettle is always warm and the Frisbee is in his bag, ready for a game.
I can genuinely say catching fish is secondary to so many special moments. Artless and unaffected, Chris Yates upholds and treasures angling’s best traditions.
I have indeed been blessed to enjoy time with all these great men, but it would be remiss of me nAontnot g tloinmgeTnimtioens .
Without the pages the team have allocated me, my angling career would never have been so richly satisfying.