Willinghurst Fishery. Old Lake. October 20th, 2002.

Hawthorne AC club match.

Not a good start this morning, OVERSLEPT!!!! Woken by a nudge in the ribs from Maria.
Fling tackle into car and off to Willinghurst about 40 miles away, just outside Guildford.

I arrived to find everyone already fishing, so I went to find the Match Sec and draw my peg. Now 9 & 10 were left in the bag, 10 has loads of features and is a corner peg, 9 has nothing, just an open expanse of water. No prizes for guessing!!!!!!!!! Yes I drew 9.



I had been warned that if the weather turned nasty it would be a real struggle and boy had it turned nasty!!!!! There had been a frost. The East wind made it feel like midwinter and just as i arrived at my peg it started to rain.
Up with the brolly,sit on my box and access my options….. Pole? NO, Waggler? NO, Feeder? That’ll do.
Knock up a bag of Fishgutz method mix groundbait, add a little corn and a little riddled meat and fish either hair rigged corn or meat. (4 bits of corn or ½ inch chunks of meat).
Largish baits and sit it out for a carp, clip up and keep dropping it down the same hole.

All around me people were struggling except for 2 lads who had islands to fish to. Well to cut to the chase, the fish weren’t going to rip it off the rests today, a 2 inch pull was all you got and if you didn’t hit them you didn’t get another chance.
 I had a mere 7 bites all day and managed to connect with all but one catching 6 Carp, the best of which weighing 6lbs 14ozs and weighed in 27lbs 8ozs which was good enough for 3rd on the day. (less than 4lbs away from the winner, 1 more fish?)

TREVOR MANNING aka ZIPTREV. October 18th, 2002

Sadly a good friend of mine Trevor Manning aka ZIPTREV passed away today after a long illness.

My line casts over the water, and dances like a song,
so gently breaks the surface, It’s here where I belong.
As breathing comes so effortless, my spirit is in tune,
with all the smells of water and nature’s sweet perfume.
Standing at the waters edge, is where I want to be,
Hooking fish don’t matter, not very much to me.
Until I feel that little tug pulling at my line,
then the finest sport there is, no longer is so sublime.
My breathing starts to quicken, my heart beats faster too,
precision is important now, in all things that I do.
A fisherman that’s what I am, and think I’ll always be,
Take me to the waterside, and fish a bit with me!

The last time I saw Trev, was when Geoff & I had the pleasure of sharing a punt with him on the Estate Lake at Old Bury Hill.
Trev had read one of my posts on Maggotdrowning about the place and decided that he fancied a go at it. Geoff hearing of this decided that he wanted to recapture his youth (having last fished there some 20 years previously). So thats how the three of us came to be standing by the boat house at 7am one July day in the pouring rain. Out we ventured in the punt on a search for Trev’s first Tench of the season. The omens didn’t look too good and while Geoff and I both caught, all Trev had to show for his efforts were a couple of hooked fish that smashed him.

Undaunted we kept at it and even the weather took a turn for the better, and then it happened, Trev’s float sailed away and after a brief fight there nestling in the bottom of the landing net was his prize. Not a big fish by any standards, but looking at the smile on his face I just knew that it didn’t matter. Mission Accomplished.

Trev, It’s been a privilege and a pleasure to have known you.
 I’m sure you’ll be looking over our shoulders in the future and having a chuckle at some of our antics.
 Rest in Peace mate.