27/06/26, Coaching at Luckfield, Broadmayne

I think we all got a glimpse of life in hell fire this week and it was a relief when the weather app said ‘only’ 26 degrees for Saturday’s coaching session. Typical of myself to realise too late that, tucked at the back of the freezer was Mrs H’s migraine headache mask. The relief when I attached the ice pack to my face was immeasurable, and I remember congratulating myself for ‘completing summer’.

Mrs H wasn’t as pleased as I was with myself because the mask made me look like a serial killer. I admit I hadn’t thought of that as I emerged in the bedroom, lit from below only by the light on my phone…

Being a junior blog post, as this is, I cannot relay to you my beloved’s reaction. Suffice to say it was distinctly less than cordial and there was now more laundry to do…

I’m sure everyone heard the birth of a new universe during the recent thunderstorms?

I can only assume that is what caused the massive explosion was that had me frantically searching for my cat. She was outside when the coming of the new messiah happened and I wanted her inside asap…Five minutes of calling later, I abandoned her to her fate, only to turn around and virtually fall over her as she washed her ears in the hallway behind me.

Who knew cats could laugh?

It was a very loud bang though, and there was even more laundry to do…

Jerry was in fine spirits when he arrived at Luckfield. In fact, I can’t remember seeing him happier. I felt lifted by this and wanted to join in the dance. I assumed that he wanted to begin a ‘Conga line’, which I thought was a little odd because there was only two of us there at the time. Surely this kind of jocularity would be better performed with a larger crowd?

Buoyed by this fairly unusual display of joy, I took my position in the line, put my hands on his hips and started the dance…

Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, CHA!

Cha, cha, cha, cha, cha, CHA!

‘What are you doing?!’ said an annoyed Jerry.

‘CONGA!’, I exclaimed.

‘I’m not *$@&£@@ dancing, I’m being bitten! I hate wearing shorts!’

We didn’t speak for a while after that…

Before I continue, has anyone misplaced a Beryl Bike? Someone mistakenly thought I needed one and thoughtfully left it on my driveway…

I mean, am I the shape of someone who cycles anywhere on a regular basis?

Attending juniors today were, Alfred (Taster Session), Ben, Harriet, Grayson (and family), Lucas, and Alexander.

Your Conga line of coaches today were…

Jerry Bracey – Conga line Lead kicker.

Graham Howard – Conga line 1.

Lloyd Richards – Conga line 2.

Chris Ward – Conga line 3.

With six juniors attending and three mobile coaches, one static, and a Taster Session to host, it was going to be a busy day. Lloyd, in particular, was often seen scrambling around Luckfield like a mountain goat that's late for a business appointment.

Luckfield isn’t the easiest place to coach on with limited numbers, but we managed. If the rough terrain of Luckfield didn’t sap your strength throughout the day, then we could rely on the England football match to gently lull us into a deep, deep sleep…

I set my gear for the taster session and was delighted to meet Alfred and his mum, Julie.

If Carlsburg made taster sessions, then they would still taste better than Carlsburg…

Seriously, what unfolded even made me pinch myself at one point.

We started on a pole with maggots. It is still nice to see juniors getting excited about teeny-tiny fishes, but once a bigger one was landed elsewhere, the atmosphere changed…

With Stephanie taking Lucas on a magical mystery tour of Dorset and Carley’s car deciding to have a hissy fit, we were running a bit late. So, the session was started, and we would stop to have a chat about stuff when everyone was present.

The ‘stuff’ was about what an over an enthusiastic angler takes everywhere in his, or her, bait bag. In this case, mine.

Maggots, pellets, ground bait, paste, wafters, pop ups, bottom baits, and kitchen utensils made realise why my bait bag is so heavy, and indeed, split…

The point was, to buy bags of pellets but only bring with you what you need. I did have tins in my bag which is not necessarily ideal. It would be better to bring tinned baits in proper bait boxes, but I am a responsible kinda guy, and I always take my, and other people’s rubbish home with me.

I then turned my attention to a bit of under arm casting. In a recent trip to Luckfield, an underarm cast was used to great effect, fishing as I was with a feeder on the pole line (13-metres).

I showed the group how to flick the feeder out to a short line, and I was pleased see the juniors having go when they got back to their pegs. I then got brave and thought I’d attempt to show them a loaded underarm cast. This where the rod is flexed before the cast, giving a boost to the distance.

This is the idea anyway. Whenever I had tried it before, the feeder gained about 200-feet of altitude before landing in or around my own keep net! All height, no distance.

I made my excuses and went for it. Everyone stood back.

The rod was bent, I held my breath and…. PING! Away she went!

It was a decent effort.

I tried again to show (myself) it wasn’t fluke.

PING! Halfway across the lake…

One more go with the same result confirmed that I had completed underarm casting…

Everyone went back to their pegs marvelling at the display of raw skill that they had just witnessed. Like dogs, I assume they were showing signs of overwhelming emotion by jaw-splitting yawns.

Happy with myself, we resumed our taster session only this time using pellets as a bait.

The result was spectacular as an angry Carp, who had been seen diving towards our pre-baited area, seemed to grab the bait and exit the swim at ramming speed.

I sensed an air of mild panic emanating from our newest junior because, of course, his long pole experience was a full 30-seconds old now. He was doing well, but I wasn’t sure how long that would last because I believed the fish to be foul-hooked.

If it wasn’t, it was very angry indeed, almost Jerry levels of annoyed.

Alfred was doing great until the Carp spotted the lilies. At this point I decided to take over because emergency measures were called for.

I pulled as hard as I dare and got the fish away from the lilies. With the pole still at 8-metres, I needed to get it to the top kit. FAST!

The pole was hurled behind me, the top kit grabbed, and armfuls of elastic were everywhere in seconds, but the Carp made to the lilies anyway. There were some squeaky bum moments as the Carp went in and out of the lilies like a reversed Clown Fish. But, after a tussle, we slid the net under a lovely Common Carp of around 9 to 10lbs. Thank you to Charli for sorting the unhooking mat. (Bad angling on my part).

Alfred was impressed, but it didn’t stop there. A 2lb Tench, three 4 to 5lb Bream and one skimmer, plus the previously caught Roach, Perch and Rudd, made for an impressive taster session in anyone’s book. Even Julie had a cheeky go and caught her own BIG Bream or two.

They were delightful company, and I look forward to seeing them again soon. I think that is likely because, when they got home, Julie asked Alfred what he would like to do now?

He said he wanted to go fishing…

On peg Two, Ben was picking off the odd fish on the feeder. One was a decent Bream of around three pounds. Normally, it is the juniors that decide when they are bored. I’m guessing the length of their tolerance depends heavily on how long the tutorials are.

In this case, however, Caroline admitted that it was she who struggled to relax.

I suggested that she may like to open an outdoor crafting circle with some of the other parents? Maybe they could play board games? I do draw the line at Poker though, it can only end in tears when debts aren’t paid on time, and I feel it may lower the overall atmos at our events.

Caroline set herself goals and as each 30-minute milestone was passed, she quietly congratulated herself. By the end she was the last parent standing other than Captain Chris who didn’t count because he is a coach.

Her reward?

A hug from a fat, sweaty angler… What a lucky lady she is…

Harriet was another to jump on the ‘Let’s catch a Bream’ wagon with another nice fish of around 3lbs. she caught lots of other fish, and they all count of course. But who doesn’t like a nice snotty bream to really mess up your nets?

Tent angler’s, that’s who…

Lee and Chris asked me to take over Harriets coaching a bit more in future. I said that was a good idea, but I did sense a little desperation in their voices. I don’t think we can read anything into the fact that they were shuffling around the lake on their knees, begging for me to take over. It was all a little unnecessary and, quite frankly, uncomfortable…

Incidentally, some of you might remember an image that I created depicting Chris as a Morris Dancer chasing a Wasp out from an umbrella? Well Chris received this for Father’s Day!

Grayson had brought an entire entourage with him. Mum, Dad, and little sister were all there in support of his angling learning curve. Jerry did mention the challenges of teaching a young lad to fish whilst also keeping his sister at bay simultaneously.

I’m joking of course. It’s lovely to see such enthusiasm and every family member had a cheeky go on the box.

To be honest, I can’t remember exactly what they caught, but there lots of smiles. I can assume they had a good day.

It nearly ended in tears and A&E as Carley managed to locate a set of Pike Trebles left on the ground as she sat down. Fortunately, her dress found it rather than her body.

Why anyone would bring Pike gear to a lake that doesn’t have any is a mystery.

Luckily, no one was injured, and the incident was reported to the DDAS Club Secretary.

Lucas was in the shady bit with a ton of new gear on P9. Somehow, they had ended up at the wrong venue and arrived a bit late. That is most certainly not a problem, but I do think that Amy Scott might read this and fear that her reputation for a sense of direction may be challenged. I jest, of course, no one has a sense of direction like Amy and Stephanie’s issues were simply because they are new to fishing and haven’t been to a lot of the venues yet.

New gear for Lucas but donated old gear in reality. Old gear gets a bit brittle over time which may have been why one of the quiver tips passed away. It was buried where it lay with full military honours.

A Bream for Lucas who was pestered with trembling little nibbles (Takes me back to my teenage years) all day. It was explained that feeding a single spot can sometimes be better than casting around too often. But everyday is a school day in fishing, even for crusty old coaches…

Lastly, the Micro Carp Wrangler of Sherborne had set up camp in peg 10. No Bweems for Alexander today, but he seemed content with a smattering of smaller fish.

Charlie is having to repeatedly reprimand me for not practicing what I preach. Her scoldings are becoming more and more sarcastic, and I fear it only a matter of time before they develop into detentions and lines…

Sadly (for me), she is almost always right.

Almost because, I am a match angler and it is NEVER entirely my fault…

Next coaching session? How write your own book of excuses, the match angler edition…

Thank you to Dorchester and District Angling Society for letting JJAC use their lake today.

Thank you to Jerry, Lloyd and Chris for their coaching prowess, expertise, sarcasm and grounding…

The next event is yet to be arranged (I’ll try to get that sorted today (Sunday), but it will be on the 11th of July, hopefully at Todber Manor, but I will confirm. Find it on Spond in due course.

JJAC is hosting an Open Day at Lodden Lake on the 4th of July. It is our first as a club, so wish us luck.

If any parents wish to become part of the coaching team, please let me know. You will need to competent in angling (Obviously). Alternatively, if you know someone who might be willing, ask them to get in touch with me please…

You have been Bread Punched!