TO MY YOUNGER SELF BY LEWIS READ

What would I do differently…? Let’s get one thing straight, looking back mournfully, regretting all the absolutely diabolical, earth-shattering clangers, ain’t healthy for the soul. Inevitably, we all make mistakes. We live with them and accept them as part of life’s rich tapestry. 

In terms of angling—you know, the dull, tactical, riggy and bait side of things—I’m pretty content. I’ve always been surrounded by like-minded (read ‘far better’) anglers, with whom concepts have been bounced and seeds of ideas gleaned. In hindsight, that has meant that my approach has been, I’d say, good enough, most of the time.

It has somehow felt like I have been embroiled within, or at least on the fringes of, some pretty important rig-related evolutions, just through the anglers I have been most fortunate to spend time with on the bank, and in the last couple of decades, being in this blessed industry. Together, these have added a special undertone, an exciting dimension to my angling life that would have been sorely missed if absent. And again, that opportunity to learn has intrinsically related to the places and people along my journey—there’s a lot of luck in terms of circumstance in this game.

My only real fishing-related life issue is that I feel I did a little too much at the wrong time. Our sport is a pretty selfish one, and the single-minded urge to be bankside meant that I failed to be around at home as much as I should have at times, especially when Sophie was ickle. I haven’t got a time machine, though, so that is done and dusted. My hope is that I have somehow scraped through as a passable dad and husband. Being single-minded in the pursuit of carp has led to many an angler being single. Perhaps, then, I should see that as a success rather than a failure.

As I have grown older (but unfortunately not wiser), I have become far more aware of the finite timeline, the mortality of the fish we chase, and also the special friendships propagated both on and off the bank. That’s not totally melancholic, just a realisation that you need to take the opportunities to fish for special old carp as and when you can, because they definitely aren’t going to be around forever. Far from it. Oh, how I wish I had caught Single, Chunky, the Turtle, the Chestnut Common, the Long Fish, the Long Common, and many more before they puffed their gills for the last time. Perhaps, if I had been a better angler, or a proper bank tramp, things would be different, but it is what it is. I do okay on fairly limited time, but I rue those ones.

Work and fishing blurs in Lew-Lew’s world these days, and I would definitely have pushed harder to take on the Spomb when first shown the prototype by Bryan Houghton, but truth be told, I firmly believe he did a better job with his single-minded vision than any tackle company would have. [doffs cap]

So, where are we? Ah, yes, my note-to-my-younger self diatribe…

Now, let’s cogitate, dissect some meaningless muck-ups, and lay out my abject and profound ‘noddyness’ for you, the good reader. You can glean useful info regarding what not to do (avoid), or simply conclude I am a glorious noddy!

I guess ‘slotting in’, has been a lifelong issue, one that has led to more ‘camping’, and meaningless, hopeless and passive fishing, than it ever should have when I was younger. Whilst the grim determination to catch a target is a great driver, as time speeds past—and it definitely goes faster as you get older, it’s true!—arriving at a venue that is surrounded by green shelters, with limited access to fish and constrained opportunities to move, really isn’t the one.

More and more, I find a core truth in the message that a more proactive, reactive mobile approach is more effective and, for me, simply more enjoyable, fulfilling and interesting. Look, I know that the bait-and-wait approach works, but I find it a bit dull most of the time. These days, I prefer to fly by the seat of my pants. It’s less samey, and it enables me to tune into a lake far more effectively. There’s no doubt that by being reactive you’ll open up many opportunities, and with these comes the chance to experience and learn how to deal with a more varied range of angling scenarios. The angling journey is best when sprinkled with a healthy seasoning of progression in terms of knowledge and skills accrued through hard-won success. We also all learn from bitter failure. 

This intrinsically links in with something my darling ‘Pickers’ said to me about 15 years ago. He told me most forthrightly that I was among the least observant anglers he had ever met! Coming from one of my very closest mates, this was taken as a terrible inditement. The word crushing springs to mind, especially in the context that Lee is also a very, very good carp angler himself. However, sometimes you need a (metaphorical) rocket up your behind to wake you up, and that it most certainly did. Taking note of the constructive criticism has really helped my angling evolve for the better. Thanks, Pickers. In hindsight, I almost wish someone had told me sooner, even if it felt like a hammer to the cranium at the time.

I’ve always tried to be fairly congenial to my fellow anglers, but on a couple of occasions in my life, when I have come to be at loggerheads with someone or have been embroiled in petty bankside politics, it was usually pointless and a waste of energy. Choosing your battles more wisely is a hard thing to practise, and whilst there are some I look back on that I felt were worth being vocal about (based on habitat destruction or what I have perceived to be poor fishery decisions), I’ve realised that there’s just no reasoning with some people. Sometimes, you just ain’t gonna change anything, even if it feels right to point something out at the time. More likely, you’ll just expend valuable energy with no benefit to man nor beast. Likewise, moaning and fixating on negative issues is self-defeating. Be more positive than that, unless it’s the last possible option—I may have been a tiny bit more vocal and opinionated than I should have been on some things.

Lastly, as I’m struggling to think of anything meaningful in terms of fishing technique-based diatribe (which I know the editor wants), I would also remind myself to remember to use more of the successful tricks, traps and edges of old. Most still work, and in an age of homogenised angling, being sufficiently different doesn’t necessarily mean doing something daft (untested). Falling back on tried-and-tested ‘different’ saves a world of pain, and is, itself, an edge. However, I am mindful that it’s an option that is only made available through an accrual of knowledge, and that inevitably takes time, effort and the will to progress and develop. If you’re happy with your lot in life, then those words will be wasted. It’s a fairly solid mantra, though, for both fishing, and broader life.

And one last note to my younger self: Lewis, one day, will you please start to write down the numbers of wraps?! It takes just 20 seconds or so, yet you still rarely do it! This would be okay if I had a good memory for that sort of stuff. Thank goodness for marker elastic, that’s all I can say…