The Colonel's Return

Colonel’s Diary : A Visit From ‘Boris’ and a Netfull of Willow Roach

If you’ve read the chapter ‘Carps and Beer’ in Chris Yates’ Casting at the Sun, then you’ll have noted the reference to ‘a man called Boris who lives in Farnham, Surrey’ as someone the Golden Scale Club has resisted. Well, it just so happens ‘Boris’ is a very good friend of mine, and is married to the lovely Linda, who has close relatives in Kendal. To cut a long story short, they were up for the week, so I pleaded with Paul to allow Boris to accompany me for a day at Lonsdale, as it was some while since I’d enjoyed a visit.

Now, Boris is what I can only describe as a ‘hardcore angler’. A lifelong British Carp Study Group member and highly respected allrounder, he and Paul struck an immediate rapport, exchanging experiences of foreign angling campaigns after Shark, Nile Perch et al. Although he is suffering failing eyesight and severe breathing difficulties, neither of these problems stop him spending a week in a bivvy to net a 40 pounder or a day on the open sea enduring all the weather can throw at him……..for sure, he’s a better man than I am, Gunga Din.

What dear old Boris needed was a leisurely day, a frequently dipping float and the company of good honest fellow anglers. I like to think he got that a plenty from Paul’s fine hospitality, in the form of lashings of steaming tea, Willow’s jagging Roach and an eel ( on breadflake!!!!), a bonus chub and one of the carp, which I reckon he’d have netted if the hookhold hadn’t failed.

Boris went home with a smile on his face and a new found friend.

I had a month or so ‘off’, not feeling too good, until a call from Paul spurred me into another visit with a bag of mashed bread, a fresh loaf and a tin of the golden grains. It was a tonic to see my old friend again, plus there was the added bonus of a chance at those pristine Roach of his. Also, the night before, ‘Walter’ had floated through my dream, cruising across the pool half out of the water, his eye swivelling tauntingly at me. He was so intent on teasing me that his bulky frame took him crashing into the reedbed to the left of the little jetty, whereupon his splashing and struggling awoke me from my slumber. I drove to Lonsdale in high spirits.

Unbeknown to me, it was my bearded friend’s birthday, so I was particularly thankful my Gaffer had handed me a jar of her homemade marmalade and a small cake for him before I’d departed that morning. I fear the lovely lady has psychic powers !!!!! He beamed his gratitude and carried my rod and landing net to the poolside for me. What a fine fellow. We sat with the customary mugs of Yorkshire tea for a quick catch-up before he went about his work for the day. ‘The Carp are laying under the jetty and the Roach are awaiting their mashed bread’, he remarked casually upon leaving me alone in the swim. I needed no further bidding, a couple of handfuls of mash hit the water surface pretty swiftly followed by my baited size 12 hook beneath the handmade sarkanda reed float. The red tipped reed hardly had time to settle.

The Roach had obviously missed seeing their old ‘Colonel’, as they came to visit my net in droves throughout the day. Forty of them, in fact, all good’uns with the best close to the magic ‘two’. There’s something about the larger Roach, isn’t there? They take on a squarer, more solid look; there scales grow rougher, more warriorlike. The jagging fight has that bit more menace and fury about it. I love them with a passion. Unusually, they kept at it all day, which I think was due to me alternating between float fishing and legering with a cage feeder, a tip I’d picked up from Boris’s recent Thames fishing experiences.

The Roach tally was added to by three silver bream, a hard tussling chub and a twisting, spinning vegetarian eel…….yes, it snaffled a grain of sweetcorn!!!!! And in proper Yates fashion, my dream was broken when the float lifted, pirouetted and slide away with a purpose. I like to think it really was Walter reminding me I’m no match for him, as he crashed into the reedbed to my left, snapping the hooklink…….well, not on float tackle anyway, my friend. But, just you wait; one day, one day soon, old fella.