The River Wye

I was fishing with my dad. I had already caught my very first pike a couple of weeks ago and was desperate to get another one before the season ended. I trotted a dace live bait across the deep hole at the Brook Mouth and hooked into the tree at the bottom of the swim...

The bait was lost and a piece of bark was attached to the hook, as I wound it in a pike swirled at it. The excitement was almost unbearable as dad put another dace on the single treble hook...

I cast out and just as the bung settled it shot under the water. I remember my dad telling me to give it a few seconds but I was already striking...

An epic battle ensued, the only part of the capture I can't really remember, but soon the pike was gaffed gently under the chin...

A five pounder, a monster, photographed on film that would take an age before it was developed. To the utter horror of the match-men I later told, I slipped it back, hoping to see it again the following year...

I can't remember the year or how old I was, but I can remember every other detail. Details I reported back to my mum, brother, teachers and friends for the weeks (months) that followed.

Can't wait to go piking with my dad and brother at Christmas!