Fisherman's Widow

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Fisherman's Widow

The fisherman's Widow

If like me, you have endured endless afternoons, days, weekends and even weeks on your own, anticipating your husband and sons return home with countless stories of the one's that got away, then you'll know just how most anglers wives and mothers feel.

After years of my own company, one Saturday, I decided to my own horror, that if you could not beat `em then join `em. I went down to the local pool where I knew my son James and husband Nick would be fishing. Armed with my new wellies, a pair of compulsory camouflaged trousers, my anorak, an old rod that to be honest had seen better days, I descended on them both. To their horror and amazement I set up my rod and reel (very badly) and chucked it in the water. Nick came running over to me shouting all sorts of obscenities wondering if I was suffering with acute PMT. “you can't just turn up and fish like that” he said, “you havn't even got a rod license”

Well that was where he was wrong……While I was in town buying my new wellies, I thought it a good idea to pay a visit to the Post Office. You can't imagine how good it felt to be able to produce my official rod license to them both.

“Oh my God” he said to James. “ I think your mother has finally flipped her lid”. James actually thought it was a fantastic idea and instantly gave me a few tips.

Tip number one - how to put a maggot on the end of a rather sharp hook. I can tell you that this was not my idea of fun. The next instalment to my fishing lesson was to learn how to cast. After numerous attempts I felt like throwing the bloody rod into the water, but I persevered. After all if a man can do it then I'm damn sure that I can.

The afternoon passed very quickly and not once did my little float even twitch in the water. “Never mind Mom, better look next time”. Was there going to be a next time - I asked myself.

Not one to be put off - I decided that I would give it another go. So the following Saturday I made the sandwiches, sorted out a flask and a Mills and Boon novel (just in case I was bored) and we all headed down to the pool. I set up my rod on my own and begged a little help with the rod rests, set up my deck chair and waited.

After two hours, and still not a bite I decided to get out the Mills and Boon. I heard James shout over “Mom you've got a bite”, on that I must admit that I stuck into this poor little fish as if I was landing a killer whale. My first ever roach. Weighing all of 4oz I jumped around the pool like a woman possessed. That was it - I was well and truly hooked.


	Carp & Coarse fishing \| home Click here for the contents page \| Nick Massey's tips! \| Fisherman's Widow \| --Type Title Here-- \| Photo gallery \| Just for you!!!!!!!! \| Please Visit!!!!! Fisherman's Widow The fisherman's Widow If like me, you have endured endless afternoons, days, weekends and even weeks on your own, anticipating your husband and sons return home with countless stories of the one's that got away, then you'll know just how most anglers wives and mothers feel. After years of my own company, one Saturday, I decided to my own horror, that if you could not beat `em then join `em. I went down to the local pool where I knew my son James and husband Nick would be fishing. Armed with my new wellies, a pair of compulsory camouflaged trousers, my anorak, an old rod that to be honest had seen better days, I descended on them both. To their horror and amazement I set up my rod and reel (very badly) and chucked it in the water. Nick came running over to me shouting all sorts of obscenities wondering if I was suffering with acute PMT. “you can't just turn up and fish like that” he said, “you havn't even got a rod license” Well that was where he was wrong……While I was in town buying my new wellies, I thought it a good idea to pay a visit to the Post Office. You can't imagine how good it felt to be able to produce my official rod license to them both. “Oh my God” he said to James. “ I think your mother has finally flipped her lid”. James actually thought it was a fantastic idea and instantly gave me a few tips. Tip number one - how to put a maggot on the end of a rather sharp hook. I can tell you that this was not my idea of fun. The next instalment to my fishing lesson was to learn how to cast. After numerous attempts I felt like throwing the bloody rod into the water, but I persevered. After all if a man can do it then I'm damn sure that I can. The afternoon passed very quickly and not once did my little float even twitch in the water. “Never mind Mom, better look next time”. Was there going to be a next time - I asked myself. Not one to be put off - I decided that I would give it another go. So the following Saturday I made the sandwiches, sorted out a flask and a Mills and Boon novel (just in case I was bored) and we all headed down to the pool. I set up my rod on my own and begged a little help with the rod rests, set up my deck chair and waited. After two hours, and still not a bite I decided to get out the Mills and Boon. I heard James shout over “Mom you've got a bite”, on that I must admit that I stuck into this poor little fish as if I was landing a killer whale. My first ever roach. Weighing all of 4oz I jumped around the pool like a woman possessed. That was it - I was well and truly hooked.