Sea fishing: Sharp end to the day is a lesson learned

Now that Hull FC have finally triumphed at Wembley, beating Warrington 12-10 in the Rugby League Challenge Cup, I decided to wear my Huddersfield Old Boys rugby shirt on my next fishing trip as a sign of respect.
Stewart Calligan wearing his Huddersfield Old Boys rugby shirt in tribute to Hull FCs Challenge Cup victory at Wembley.Stewart Calligan wearing his Huddersfield Old Boys rugby shirt in tribute to Hull FCs Challenge Cup victory at Wembley.
Stewart Calligan wearing his Huddersfield Old Boys rugby shirt in tribute to Hull FCs Challenge Cup victory at Wembley.

A ‘few’ years ago I played for Huddersfield YMCA on Saturdays and Halifax Old Crossleyans, Huddersfield Borough Police and Huddersfield Old Boys on Wednesdays.

Back then I fished from the commercial east coast boats and always came back with a few cod dangling from a piece of string.

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My fishing hobby included matches where the heaviest bag of fish won the day with Slaithwaite and District Angling Club, Leeds and Bradford Angling Clubs and the local police matches.

I still use a fishing bag and rod won in the mid-1960s and that victory led me to organising matches as secretary to one of the clubs.

In later life I was secretary of a badminton club and a bar at Pannal Ash in Harrogate. It is strange how hobbies add life skills to the CV and make you more employable or a better self-employed operator. Have a go at whatever pastimes you fancy and get involved up to the level you feel comfortable with.

That’s enough philosophising and now it’s back to ‘the brethren of the rod’.

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Donned in my claret and gold rugby shirt, circa 1960s, we sailed the ocean blue in search of fish. The old crew of Rob and Roy were back on board.

We chose a sunny tranquil day with a light westerly breeze gently blowing the wheat dust out to sea from the combines. The land harvest was in full swing and I hoped the sea harvest would be just as good.

Off Bempton Cliffs we fished in 50ft of water with mussel baited feathers and soon caught mackerel, cod and colefish.

Roy landed the biggest fish with a 5lb cod, while Rob and I were quite content with small cod and mackerel.

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With the sea slowly lapping, the sides of the boat reflecting the sun and the beaches and cliffs alive with colourful holiday people, we all had one of those memorable lazy summer days. Even the sea birds seemed less energetic until we started to gut the fish. They must have a sixth sense as we were soon surrounded by squawking, diving, acrobatic gulls ready for an easy meal. This was until Rob lost the landing net over the side and then his new fishing hat as he tried to grab the falling net. They were bobbing about moving away from the boat with the outgoing tide. I asked Rob to keep pointing at the net and hat to help me manoeuvre the boat alongside. All I could see was £40 drifting away and after a few abortive efforts Rob managed to hook the net and then I used it to retrieve his hat.

It made me think that if it had been Rob that fell into the sea could we have got him back?

We examined the throwing hoop and buoyancy aid that we carried in case of ‘man overboard.’ The incident made us appreciate the need for speed and keeping visual contact in such a case as the boat soon moved away from what was in the sea.

As I began to wind-in from my ‘last cast’ - it was actually the fourth ‘last cast’ as I tend to have another if the ‘last cast’ doesn’t produce a fish - the final fish of the day was a nice 3lb cod with very sharp teeth.

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On taking the hook out it bit me on my little finger drawing blood. I was reminded of the old nursery rhyme used to teach us to count and our left from our right:

One, two, three, four, five,

once I caught a fish alive;

Six, seven, eight, nine, ten,

then I let it go again;

Why did I let it go?

Because it bit my finger so;

Which finger did it bite?

My little finger on the right.

And to quote Izaak Walton, author of ‘The Compleat Angler’, 1653: “No life is so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well govern’d angler”.