Every pond has a legend of the monster pike, even the village duck pond where Mrs Soandso’s dog was eaten while having a swim. The only English fish creating more of a myth is the catfish.
”Yeah, it’s over a hundred pounds, it followed in a double figure carp as I was playing it.” Of course it’s never been caught or photographed. I had a more sensible target of a double.
Back to the muddy little cat-pond, I said I was after a double but wels are new - a screaming run and a little kitten first cast made my day - anything else would just be a bonus...
Half an hour later I was in again, another kitten but I popped her on the scales to set a PB - 7lb 4oz, bloody hell these things fight - what would a big cat feel like? I was soon going to find out!
A couple of hours later Richard was copying me with a little kitten followed by a 7lb 4oz cat of his own. Mid afternoon, out of the blue my rod screamed off - I hit something that didn’t want to meet me!
Fishermen exaggerate, but I’m not when I say it took 15 to 20 minutes to even see what I was connected to. My knees were shaking as Richard swept my prize up in the net - 27lb 0oz of fantastic!!
We rounded off the day with a few carp and bream - what a day - what a cat (but I don’t recommend a 2lb test curved rod, how it didn’t break I don’t know)... Next target: a Bertie!