Respect Your Elders!

Britain’s leading all-round angler loves taking on challenges at all kind venues. Read his triumphs and disasters, warts ‘n’ all, exclusively in AM.

- STEVE COLLETT

SOMETHING always happens to me when I’m fishing, apart from this time, as the tales of woe fell on our favourite snappy-pappy, good ol’ Chappy.

The planning of the trip was fairly straightforward, and I was looking forward to a bit of a challenge, one set by the ga er, aka the AM editor. He wanted me to go full-out 'Swampy', foraging for berries and all that business, then go and catch some fish on them.

It sounded simple enough. What could go wrong?

A six-mile tailback and a major motorway closure, that’s what went wrong. Not for me. I was by the riverbank happy as a pig in muck. But poor old Chappy was stuck for a long time. A very long time. 10.40am. I arrive at a small river and start throwing foraged elderberries at a couple of small chub and dace.

10.41 am. For some reason, the fish were not interested in the slightest.

I didn’t alert them, I didn’t spook them, they just didn’t even look at the elderberries, and that posed a bit of a problem, as they were the only bait that I had with me. I admit that the time of day wasn’t the greatest but, like all people, I have to cram my fishing in between life.

Something was amiss. Fish, especially wild river sh, eat anything, or at the very least inspect anything, even fag ends, litter and leaves, but not elderberries.

It didn’t take me long to abandon the swim, as I can tell when sh are not interested. It was the human equivalent of turning over and saying that you’ve got a headache. No amount of prodding and poking was going to get me anywhere.

Not to worry, as there are a few little rivers and streams around the North

Sticks and elderberries. What else does a man want from life?

Nottinghamshire area, and within ten minutes I was on the bank again, armed with my free 'Swampy' baits.