11^th March 2000

I've known Walter since we were teenagers in the Scottish Borders. We both worked on the land then and lived off it too. Getting up before dawn to get the best fishing made sense and we sometimes got up at 3am to make the most of the early Scots summer mornings.

Maybe he doesn't realise he is getting older, but he still likes getting up before dawn to fish. Myself, I have no illusions about the effects of the intervening years, but made the effort to maximise our chances of getting pike.

We met up with Alan and Kev, before heading to Chelmsford in Essex.

It doesn't sound the most likely of places, but the River Chelmer runs through the town of Chelmsford, through a weir and out towards fields and further on, a road bridge. All told, there is about 0.53km (1/3 mile) of double bank fishing. About half of one bank is owned by the Post Office Angling Club though.

There was a glorious sunrise as we reached the riverbank and we soon set up our pitches, putting out rods with deadbaits of pilchards and herring.

Walter and I got restless soon after and went off spinning along the river. We very soon connected, getting a fish each and missing a couple. There was quite a bit of activity in that early period.

I was expecting Rob to join us and had my mobile with me to give him last minute directions. Well, I did have. Somewhere along the bank I had dropped it. I retraced my steps back and right at the furthest point, came across it.

The phone rang as soon as I picked it up. It was Rob. He was close by and soon found us.

It wasn't long before he joined Walter and myself roving the banks with spinning rods.

Between us, we had a good collection of spoons, plugs and wobblers and we tried them all. Unfortunately, I lost my Professor spoon and a small Toby spinner at the edge of the weir. There are some immovable obstructions there close to the edge of the bank.

As we moved away from the town, we tried the canal stretch close by, but got no reaction. Back on the river, I tried diving plugs and the Doctor spoon, but found it hard to keep them clear of weed. I found that floating plugs fished slowly cured that problem. Walter caught another two pike and Rob and I missed one each.

Rob reached the road bridge and cast under it. His rod bent and it looked like he had a serious pike on. He saw a huge fin break surface and then nothing for a while as the fish dived and bored away from him. After about 7 minutes it showed itself. It wasn't a pike, but a large carp. By sheer chance, it had got foul-hooked in the tail, which explained the extra hard fight. It was eventually netted, a fat and solid 4.5kilos (10lb). In a lifetime of fishing, it is unlikely he will catch another large carp in that fashion again.

We worked our way back to the weir, missing another couple of pike en route. These tried to take the plugs almost at our feet. By the time we reached the weir, we heard a great shout. Alan was into a good pike and Kev was waving the net about, ready to get into action.

By the time we worked our way back around 11am, the fish was photographed and returned to the water. It weighed 7 kilos (15.5lb). One annoying manifestation was the evidence of cormorant damage on almost every pike. Most of the wounds had healed, but had been quite severe.

Around this time the water-bailiff turned up, wheeling his bicycle with a rod tied to it. He reckons to have caught a couple of 9 kilo (20lb ) carp from the canal and some big perch too.

He charged us the bounteous sum of £1.65 each for the privilege of fishing all day with two rods apiece. I paid more than that for a couple of wire traces.

Kev now got to work and cooked up a curry of tinned steak, beans and noodles. It may sound horrendous to you, but it tastes wonderful when the wind is cold and you haven't had any breakfast.

In fact, it was so nice, we let him cook us another batch around 3pm, with lots more chilli in it.

It's just as well he likes cooking, otherwise there would be nothing else for him to do. You won't meet a keener angler anywhere. He gets up at an unearthly hour to fish, knowing he is invoking the displeasure of his spouse. He makes much of the equipment for his brother anglers and even manufactures his own baits and boilies. But, he just can't catch fish. It's a rather unfortunate affliction for a dedicated angler, especially as the whole town likes to remind him of the fact. There is a rumour that he did catch a brace of carp once and a couple of kind friends confirm this fact.

I blame it all on his pheromones. There must be too much testosterone on his hands, putting off the fish. How it gets there is anyone's guess, but we suggested he should try running his hands through certain articles of his wife's wardrobe before he goes fishing next time and leave his groin alone.

All five of us settled down for the afternoon to really give the dead-baits a go. Walter and I moved nearer the Post Office stretch and Rob joined us. Nothing stirred for a long time, but we are a patient lot and visited each other and wandered up and down the bank and then got restless.

About 35 metres from the river bank, there is the four storey historic Moulsham Mill, which now doubles as a museum and teashop. Rob and I fancied tea and cake, so wandered in and enjoyed a very decent pot of char. The cakes were a bit suspect, they'd been micro-waved and were quite unpleasant. Rob had a toasted tea-cake which was better.

The café there also does snacks from 9-5pm and hot meals around lunch time, just in case you forget to bring your chef (Kev).

Back on the river we changed our baits and waited again. Walter decided to pull in one of his baits to recast it. As he lifted it off the bottom, he got a good take and away it went. This was a good fish. It fought hard and wouldn't be bullied to the net. Once it opened it jaws wide and tried to shake off the hook, but it held. After about 6 minutes, it finally succumbed and Walter was able to land a fine 14 pounder (6.3kilos).

Soon after Alan pulled in another around 2.25kilos (5lb) and that was our lot, although I had another follow my plug right in to the bank. It saw me and turned just before hitting the plug. I suppose I'd have done the same under the circumstances.

We drove back to Walter's, then wandered around several pubs to entertain the clientele with a few embroidered stories.