29-08-2022
A few weeks after the, ‘swimming with the fishes’ experience, (previous blog), I decided to have a go at casting down at the beach. My mate Stv had lent me his rod and tackle while he’s away in Cornwall, he’d taken me through the basics before he left. At this point I can hear seasoned anglers shouting, “what!”, but the reality is I was never into fishing, my last time being back in the 1970’s, on the Thruppeny Bit timber pier at Kingston Bay when I was about 12, with my mate, John West. I caught an eel, which proceeded to make a birds nest of my line. That, coupled with my singular lack of patience, brought my angling career to an end before it even got going, that very day.
I’d managed some reasonable casts under Stv’s watchful eye, but obviously hadn’t been paying close enough attention when he rigged the rod up. So there I was on an overcast morning, with moody, steely blue/grey clouds over the calm sea, with distant rumbles of thunder, and nearly full tide, casting out, only to see the line keep going, I clearly hadn’t rigged the line on the reel right. Luckily, as I was pondering the unfolding fiasco, not to mention panicking about losing Stv’s gear, Paul Hudson just happened to be coming down the beach with his dog, Billy, a wee spaniel, and he held the rod while I retrieved what I could of Stv’s tackle. I saved the weight, hooks, and feathers, but had to kiss goodbye to a fair few yards of line snagged in the seaweed by the rocks.
By the time I’d fought with the seaweed and won the tackle back, Paul had sussed what was wrong, and had the line rigged proper, but I was all of a sweat and a dither by then, so opted to leave the rod as it was, at least ready for another day. I went home, stowed the fishing gear, and headed back for a refreshing dip.
The following day, while down at the Pollinator for my morning fix of coffee, I got a text from Paul, telling me the mackerel were around, I text back that I’d be along soon. As soon as I got back, about 09.30, I grabbed the rod and tackle and legged it down to the beach, not many others around, just a few sunbathers, so I put my bucket down, cast the rod out into the almost high tide, and began winding. I should explain, there was a fairly hefty belt of seaweed close to the shore, so as I reeled in, the line getting heavier, I naturally presumed I had snagged a load of kelp, the sort that looks like Chinese noodles. Imagine my surprise when I spot, not one, or two, but four chuffin’ mackerel hooked up! I held them in the air for a bit, hardly believing this had happened, then a couple of ladies came over with their dog, a lovely fluffy golden retriever, who was every bit as keen as its owner to see what was up. They hadn’t seen the like before apparently, I didn’t like to spoil it by telling them I’m a fishing novice, but I was having to encourage the retriever away from the fish still with the hooks and tackle on anyway, so they probably left thinking I was some angling guru. As I gently teased the hooks out of their mouths, I found myself apologising to each of the mackerel, holding them firmly on the pebbles, while trying to ease the hook out as painlessly, I thought at least, as possible, whispering, “I’m sorry mate”, each time. Not sure I’m quite cut out to be a hunter gatherer somehow, I even risked losing them by trying to get some seawater in the bucket to make them more comfortable. I can imagine any anglers reading this and shaking their heads in disbelief.
I caught another couple, and decided that was enough, I’d been there all of fifteen minutes, and took my catch home for my brother to show me how to gut them, (now in the freezer). As I’d left, anglers were turning up all along the beach by then, the sea alive with cauldrons of mackerel chasing the seething whitebait all the way up the shore and onto the shingle. When I came back for a swim after gutting the fish, at one point, right in front of us, a gentle wave heaved a mass of whitebait up and over a shingle mound, leaving a four foot by two foot bed of thousands of the wee critters stranded, and Andrew, a neighbour who turned up with his rod shortly after me, and had been just as successful as I’d been, scooped up heaps of the wee fish into his bucket for later. They make fine eating when lightly fried apparently.
Pollinator
As usual, my morning dog walks with Freddie culminate in a trip to the Old Fort for a coffee at the Pollinator horse box, and owing to the popularity of my wind up gramophone, I appear to have earned a ‘DJ slot’ between 8 and 9a.m on Monday’s, playing old vinyl 78’s from my dads old collection, and also from a pile I got from Sean Hawkey when I bought the machine from him. I sit the gramophone on the Pollinator ice cream fridge, facing the river so it doesn’t wake the neighbours that might be laying in, pick a record, wind the machine up, and this magical sound springs to life, having lain dormant for donkeys years. I’d expected the novelty to wear off quite quickly, but it seems to be gathering new fans to this 100 year old technology, as well as a lively interest in the old tunes. I love going through the records to choose what to take, some of the names just leap out, like Spike Jones and his City Slickers, (a hit from 1942 according to Google), or Alligator Crawl by Fats Waller (1935). Surprisingly there are quite a few that ring a bell in the old memory box, like ‘Baby it’s Cold Outside’ by Dinah Shore and Buddy Clark, (1949), and ‘Aint Misbehaving’ by Harry Parry and his Radio Sextet (1943). What I hadn’t expected was to see Pa’s name on the top corner of some of the record sleeves, not in his writing either, so I guess he’d ordered them from a record shop and they’d put his name on the sleeve ready to be picked up, a pleasant little reminder of our dearly departed Pop.
It’s a very tactile sensation using a wind up record player, which according to Richard, (a professional musician after all, so should know), is a direct reproduction, kind of like listening to them playing live via one remove. He would certainly explain it better than I possibly could. I’m going to try and put together a list of all the 78’s I’ve got, and then perhaps people can even make requests in advance. If interest wanes, at least it’s seen some action rather than gathering dust.
I seem to have rambled on a bit here, so I’m sure you’ll be grateful I’m stopping at this point. Once I have some more nonsense to blather on about, I’ll be letting you both know.
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