Saturday, 16 September 2017

When You Take Mates Fishing

Do you not just hate it? That pressure of a guest on your club water, the sheer dread of blanking when they have driven around the M25 to be bored senseless by me. Recently Karl popped over from Kent for a day on a local beat.

Now this lad loves his JDM gear and he can fish too. We looked at a stretch of water I'm hoping to organise a little charity bash on in November. But after an hour we moved, he was not "feeling it". It's not looking good at present, needs a flush through, but the potential is their. Carl, the local Carl and possibly the only Corbyn fan in Surrey recently took a nice 3.6 Perch with two back up high 2's in a couple of hours. Shame the fuckers an out and out "Wolfie". God we clash over our politics, but do not fall out and that in itself speaks volumes.

But Karl wanted to move, his your guest so you do it. It proved a good move as he knocked out some sprightly Jacks and a couple of Chub, the largest Chub measured (yep he is from Hungary) 50Cm. Silly bugger has the photo's on his camera and has not sent them on.

I chipped in with a Jack and two small Chub of around two pound or so. I've fished with a few lads from Eastern Europe in the last three years and it's interesting how they go about lure fishing. I've learnt loads, but clearly not enough.



But then it went a little pear shaped.

Karl" Let's have a throw with your new Megabass"
Me  "Yeah here you go mate"

Rod swept back, whoosh a lure in the tree and this backlash that took the daft bugger half an hour to pick out. I've never had one that bad-honest, thanks mate. On a very serious note I could  never be an angling guide the sheer pressure you must be under? To hide your earnings from the Tax Man, must be arduous and yes you know who you are.



I've not looked on Fatwa for ages, but I received t this text into the Yat Phone recently.

A thread entitled "Tips For Cabbages, have a look Monty"

Now this is not politically correct, but a lad was asking about the above. My first thought was..... You came to the right forum mate, the place is awash with the fuckers! Don't shoot the messenger I'm not the only one who laughed!


If this comes around again, go see it.

Last weekend Denise and I went to the Wyndham Theatre to watch Audra McDonald perform as Billie Holliday in Lady Day at Emmerson's Bar and Grill.

Based on a true story, four months  before her death in 1959. It's set in a bar that "Lady Day" walked into blind drunk with her dog, then she simply staggers out again after singing four songs in front of nine people. But you the audience, get to see "Lady Day" tell her story with artistic licence, courtesy of the scriptwriters in how she would liked to have been remembered, for all her faults. And god knows we all have them.

It is in parts funny, raw and moving. And if you close your eyes the magnificent Audra Mcdonald really could be Lady Day. Please go see it, if you have the chance. To hear Strange Fruit live, moved Denise to tears.






Be Lucky

Monty D







Saturday, 2 September 2017

The Bane of my Life

Recently Gruff and myself as well as a few others have been out afloat on a couple of large reservoirs. And it has been double hard, first Bewl and then Weirwood last weekend. Bewl was OK as we boated a few fish, none big but sport is sport.

Last weekend was a tough as old boots, in that Weirwood had an algae bloom, it was so green it would not have looked out of place sloshed all over a "Double, Double" with chilli vinegar and black pepper.

I think a handful of fish came to the boat among twenty anglers. The finder on our boat was showing fish from nine feet down, all the way until thirty six feet. But apart from Gruff losing a decent Perch that was as good as it got to our boat. But it's a good crack, Gruff and I get on. That's important if your in a boat all day with someone, fuck me he needs a Knighthood to put up with me! Imagine sharing a boat with Ray Winstone off his face and then you get me, peas in a pod.


Then I moved back onto our local rivers. Been doing a little of bit of thinking about the lack of Perch last season. Early last year, my goal was to fish crankbaits more or less for the full nine month term. Give or take the odd sabbatical, just to scratch an itch. On here it's been mentioned over and over it's a method that I enjoy most.

But, this method looking back is a dinner bell to every Jack in the river. May as well turn up, wack up a fluorescent sign on the river bank that reads " Hey Pike, Piss Monty off, all you can eat for a jacks".

So a little change of plan, switch to and whisper it, use once more S@@t P@@@@@@s. Sure I'm taking the piss, but to do this I needed another rod. So I bought very recently another baitcasting number from my mate Karl.

Armed with just a few shads and sticks, I've been having a few more Perch again. All small, the three pound fish from a few years back may have died away. Pointless fishing worms (spit), until the winter as I know the Crayfish are rampaging  with aplomb, turning grown men to jelly. Still plenty of Jacks, but's it's got my mind ticking over as to how to adapt, complacent most defiantly. As we have been royally spoilt with cracking Perch fishing over time. Perhaps I'll find some more good ones as the season moves on?











Right the bane of my fucking life, this lot. Not just these, but the others that breed like rats in the kitchen at home. Are all women as bad as my wife. I like a bit of Hummus, some olives and a flat bread as a light snack. You finish the pot and throw it in the bin and then this.....

Denise" Don't throw that away Jase, it may come in handy"
Me "What are you fucking sure?"
Denise" Give it here I'll wash it up"

Now the bottom cupboard is where these bastards live. Now you know what ever size box you are looking for, you will not find the correct size lid, am I right or am I right? Over the years, they scheme, move about in the cupboard at night.

Last week I walked up to the said cupboard and heard......... "Don't going into the light Monty, don't go into the light" I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye of some fat medium from an 80's horror movie.

I crept up to the cupboard door and could hear a low rumbling sound, like a mini avalanche. Opened it up and was swamped up to my fucking knees in plastic. And she said.....

"That must be you, it never happens when I open it"


Women eh?


Be Lucky


Monty D

Saturday, 29 July 2017

Doppelgangers of the Angling World Part XXXIV

Jesus the last one of these was way back in February 2015, where on earth does the time go? So I thought I'd better pull my socks up and get a new one up.

Below we have Bingo from the Banana Splits, looking like he has fallen on hard times. Slumming it on the river Trent, cheek by jowl with "Carbellers", bonfires, takeaway food detritus and empty stellar cans by the dozen. How the mighty have  fallen, one minute your a superstar of the 1970's, tooting grade "A" charlie and girls by the dozen, you blink and your on the scrap heap.  




Below we have Alex Dalton, looking a little like he has been on the crack pipe, real fucked up mandingo.




My fishing so far this season? Not much to shout about to be honest, plenty of small Pike and small Chub caught on lures and a few Perch, no big Perch as of yet. In truth the Chub fishing has kept me entertained. One day they are like Kamikaze pilots, the next trip out spooky as hell. It is to me utterly absorbing. Perhaps more fishy photos are needed for the blog? But unlike in the past not an awful amount of effort goes into this now. Just as and when.




Really looking forward to the Autumn though, a couple of trips to Grafham Water in September are on the cards and Pitsford in October. Then focus on the big Perch on my local venues, they are still very overgrown at present. And moving along the river and finding areas to cast a line is tough.

It's August next week and I've yet to come across another angler thus far apart from opening day, very odd. I know Gruff, The Dutchman and Roger The Perv( who has popped up after being missing for ten long years, presumed dead) are all under the thumb. But surely not all anglers our way have no bollocks and cow tow to the wife?


Be Lucky

Monty D  

Friday, 23 June 2017

A National Treasure

A term used far to often in my opinion, but after the sad news today I'll jump on the band wagon! Henry Calthorpe Blofeld, or just simply "Blowers" to his many legions of fans is hanging up the microphone after a whopping 45 years covering TMS.

Now I must confess that I'm no expert Cricket statistician, but I simply adore TMS and this man for me is the voice of Cricket, not unlike that late Sir Peter  O'Sullevan who was the voice of racing for many.

I've always enjoyed sport on the radio, be it Cricket, Boxing, Golf et al. To me it's far more intimate than the TV. Blowers himself today described TMS as "company" and I suppose it is for many. Before I met Denise I did not own a TV, she was incredulous when we spoke about it.

She asked " What do you do in the evenings?"

I replied "Masturbate".

In that instant I knew we would marry. The look of love in her eyes, or was it disgust? Sold it too me? Even now I seldom watch TV, on my lap top and listening to the radio is my thing, while she watches East Enders. She is supposed to be the brains of the outfit, seeing that her work is Psychology, while I'm just a barra boy. But Radio 4, or a group of people shouting at each other, I win hands down surely.






A guy I work with today, our brief conversation went like this.

Me " Tom did you hear Blowers is hanging up the Mic"

Tom" Yes mate, but I prefer Sky Sports coverage over TMS"

Me" Call yourself English? Just Fuck off".

A bit near the mark, but even though I've smoothed off some rough corners over the years I'll not change. As my Mum says. " You can take the boy out the East End, but you can't take the East End out the boy". Very true.





TMS is indeed very special to many people and not just for the Cricket, it's life's observations and humour. It's like Cream Tea's, Summer Fetes, Morris Dancing and Warm Beer all rolled into one and much more besides.

Blowers, you will be missed. Simply thank you!

Be Lucky

Monty D

Saturday, 17 June 2017

Plug Monkey

Yeah that's me a plug monkey, love to use them. Soft plastics may catch me more fish, but fishing that way can send a glass eye to sleep. Yesterday was a last minute change of plan. The stretch I intended to fish was full of old boys, dozing off and waiting for the 'Pin to scream into life, chatting about the halcyon days of Adams Mill and how much they hate Otters.

Went to my Perch stretch, but after ten minutes it did not feel right. I could not settle, don't ask me why. Thinking about where to go, I yomped up to a weir pool that has not seen me cast a line into it for around eight years.

Difficult to access and not the most comfortable place to fish. It's a snag pit, so decided to use small shallow diving plugs. Had a great six hours sport for an opening day that often leads to disappointment.


I managed  six Jacks and four Chub, only the one fished photographed for blog purposes as you are fishing standing on three rocks. You need to slide down the bank to access this, so unhooking the fish in the water and slipping them back is the way to go. Climbing up and down is a no, no. And it's certainly not an area to fish in the wet. Trust me I've been in here before when there was a few feet on, not something that I would like to experience again.

Now Pike, are they thick? They just nail the lure, bosh way back down the throat. I did have a low double launch itself clean out of the water to my left, miss the lure and tail walk. Like I said thick. Chub on the other hand can be mind bending, four Chub landed, but loads missed. Very gentle takes, some mouthing the lure not unlike Carp with crust, then turning away. Perhaps closing my eyes is the way to go, stop watching the lure and wait for a bang. No fun in that though, happy enough with the day it was good to be back out.




I dropped a right bollock in the week. Last Saturday the day was spent listening to the Cricket and England through to the semifinal against Pakistan. Now tomorrow is Fathers Day and we were supposed to go and visit  Denise's parents for lunch. But the Cricket final is also tomorrow, so confident was I of beating Pakistan on Wednesday I said "I'll do a BBQ babe, get them all around here". And then we fucking lost. So now I'll be cooking Jerk Chicken, Jerk Pork and the whole shebang for sweet FA.

It's going to be a scorcher tomorrow, so I thought slipping this tune in would be apt. One of the best political songs of all time in my opinion.

Jah Bless.    




Be Lucky

Monty D

Sunday, 7 May 2017

Work Party's

How many of us attend the above? Come on seriously how many of you get out of bed at the weekend to help get the river looking good for the start of the new season?  Today we had the grand total of three. Yeah fucking three members gave up some time to do a little pruning, cut back branches etc so the lazy wankers would not moan about poor access.

Last season one member requested a refund as in his words " The banks are so overgrown they are a disgrace". This from a club member who has never attended a work party in his life. It really pisses me off that anglers moan, but offer up fuck all help.

Me, well over grown is good. It offers better opportunities for stalking, for those of us who like to roam. If you as an angler don't want nasty stinging nettles, or god forbid brambles, then fuck off to a little hole in the ground. Sit on your latest five hundred pound seat box and pull out Carp that look like they have been raped by Freddie Kruger.

We did Gruff and I, plus Ivan Mark's love child  spot some very nice Chub. I got in and managed to retrieve some badly cast lures from last winter. We did a good mornings work and had a laugh.  






Bit of a rant, well then yes. What ever club you belong to, do not moan and groan if you expect every thing to look peachy. But leave it to others! Wankers!

On a well known Pike angling forum, the subject of various forms of art has raised its head. Some like modern art. My favourite is Van Gogh and a copy of "Boots" hangs in our front room. It reminds me of my old man when he used to come home from Smithfield Meat Market and leave his boots in the porch. I like Van Gogh's work  in what is known as his Brown Period, thanks Lumby ;-0. But also with the copy that hangs at home, I look upon it and wonder who wore them and what story their life was. Hey it's not all swearing here you know!



Lastly S***s, have that you fuckers!


Be Lucky

Monty D

Tuesday, 18 April 2017

Oi Love

"Fancy taking a trip away from Sandbanks me old treacle?"

"Where to this time, you money grabbing, bung taking wrong'un?"

"Errr, well Buurmingham love, yow know Kippa Tie, Bull Ring, Moxy et al"

"Hahh maccch"

"A good screw, trust me a good screw"

"Oh go on then, small pleasures, small treasures that's 'ow the story goes"


Who's this being hawked around the managerial play ground?






Yep, classy as ever.

I'd do anything, for a pannd note anything....


You could not make it up. I'll get back to fishing soon, but fishing always is sooo boring as a blog. To me it is anyway.


Be Lucky

Monty D