Ed­i­to­rial

Carpworld - - CONTENTS - -Ru­pert White­man

With the ad­vent of more false dawns and life blips, the editor’s glass is def­i­nitely still half empty this month...

Well, that’s an­other lack­lus­tre month un­der my belt on the fish­ing front. As with many of the best laid plans, none ma­te­ri­alised, and as I sit here typ­ing this, I am won­der­ing whether on earth I should ac­tu­ally bother book­ing my­self in for these ses­sions at all, or whether it would just be for the best to fly by the seat of my pants and wing it in fu­ture.

Due to the na­ture of pub­lish­ing these pieces, I am a month or so ahead of you lot (there’s a first time for ev­ery­thing), so even I still don’t ac­tu­ally know whether or not I will have made it to the mecca that is Cassien, by the time you are ac­tu­ally read­ing this. I cer­tainly hope to have – and I’d like to think the group will have caught one, or more, too. But as is of­ten the case, life has a way of throw­ing up a curve ball or two, not when you least ex­pect it, but, when you least need it! So, for now, the jury’s out. More on that then, next month...

Oc­to­ber and Novem­ber have been par­tic­u­larly quiet for me on mat­ters fish­ing-re­lated. The odd trade show, the odd visi­ta­tion to some­one lucky enough to have the time to ac­tu­ally be by the water’s edge and just the odd fleet­ing op­por­tu­nity to take a photo, some­thing I’ve not had the chance to do much of since the spring­time and some­thing I re­ally am miss­ing, and dearly!

What I have had the chance to do, is roll co­pi­ous amounts of fresh pop-ups with my erst­while un­der­cover busi­ness part­ner, Chris B – who’s knowl­edge, due in part to min­gling with those of a sim­i­lar ilk and some of the north’s finest minds to boot, as to what makes a par­tic­u­larly de­sir­able sin­gle hook­bait, is sec­ond to none. While I’m not at lib­erty to dis­cuss com­pany names and prod­ucts within the pa­ram­e­ters of this text, may I sug­gest you trawl so­cial me­dia un­til you stum­ble across a (UK) com­pany ped­dling all man­ner of ul­tra-cult, rock­ing-horse’ flavours from the depths of time... You won’t be dis­ap­pointed!

At the end of the month there is the Sandown show, which will also present to you the first op­por­tu­nity to pur­chase our learned col­league’s lat­est book. This is the pre­cur­sor for a few hec­tic months of run­ning around like head­less chick­ens for most ev­ery­body in­volved within the trade. For me, it her­alds the op­por­tu­nity to catch up with a few friendly faces that I don’t nor­mally see from one year unto the next – as­sum­ing, that is, that I’m not par­tak­ing in 14 hours of (pre­dom­i­nantly, and I use the word lightly) one-sided convo, based around the es­teemed Al White Esq’s afore­men­tioned de­cid­edly left-wing, snowflake lean­ings, ob­vi­ously.

From there, it’ll be the slow, te­dious run into the Christ­mas party sea­son. There is al­ready a plethora of re­lated pro­duce sneak­ing into shops on the high street, so God only knows what it is go­ing to be like when it is ac­tu­ally De­cem­ber...

Fol­low­ing on from there, will, no doubt, be the re­lent­less on­slaught from the key­board war­riors, as they grow in­creas­ingly sick and tired of the con­jured and rein­vented ways to dis­pose of the tur­key left­overs, and set about pick­ing holes in just about any­thing within their line of sight. I seem to re­call hav­ing a lit­tle moan dur­ing my first ed­i­to­rial about all this. Whilst we haven’t come full cir­cle just yet, April doesn’t seem so far away, and the gap be­tween now and then has been passed in each of the five pre­vi­ous years with much speed­scrolling and rolling of eyes as some poor sod/man­u­fac­turer cops it un­der the as­sumed wis­dom of a se­lect few, who de­spite hav­ing ab­so­lutely zero knowl­edge on their spe­cial­ist sub­ject, prat­tle on, to keep the ‘masses’ en­ter­tained as they have what is, I pre­sume, their five min­utes un­der the spotlight.

Maybe I’m mel­low­ing with age, like a fine wine, or it could just be that I’m be­com­ing in­creas­ingly bor­ing, the fat­ter I get, but I just haven’t got the time for it any more. I don’t mind hav­ing the oc­ca­sional bit of ban­ter with some­one on their choice of foot­ball team, their at­tire or the shape of their lat­est carp, but it would ap­pear that there are now a num­ber of ill-ad­vised, ill-fit­ting and overly-an­noy­ing types around the fringes of carp fish­ing that have slipped in, un­der the radar. With a huge help­ing hand of bull­shit, they are now, more of­ten than not, the cat­a­lyst for at least 50% of the an­i­mos­ity that be­comes so preva­lent at this time of year. How on earth they’ve even found them­selves a soap­box to preach from, let alone an au­di­ence to tar­get, will baf­fle me un­til such time as I choose to dis­tance my­self from this par­tic­u­lar side of things. As a re­sult, I im­plore more than a few of you to take a long, hard look at your ‘hang­ers on’ – there are some proper clowns amongst them!

Any­way, that’s an­other word count cracked, so I shan’t have to have a(nother) whinge of my own again un­til the New Year. In the mean­time, may I take this op­por­tu­nity to bid you all a very merry Christ­mas and best fishes for 2019! Be lucky.

ABOVE My chances with the cam­era have been in­creas­ingly limited this year. Here’s a late au­tumn sun­rise, some­where in deep­est, dark­est Es­sex

BE­LOW A fleet­ing mo­ment with some­one that does ac­tu­ally get to go fish­ing... and at least a night a week more than he’d have so­cial me­dia be­lieve!

BE­LOW Lovely times in sun­nier climes. Roll on the spring, is all I say!

LEFT Through­out the an­nals of time, has there ever been a more proven win­ter bait?

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