Dead To Me

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

- Steve Collett

IT’S 4.58am and, as always, I have woken up a couple of minutes before my alarm clock is due to go off. How do we always do that when a fishing trip is planned?

Anyway, rather than springing out of bed, looking forward to wrestling the inhabitants of our underwater world, I’m a bit dogged, to say the least. You’ll find out why in a second.

Before I had even made my few burglar-like steps downstairs, I had a feeling about this day.

I looked outside and noticed the white carrier bag that I’d left on the entrance to Collett Towers had gone.

This white carrier bag was no ordinary carrier bag. Besides it costing over 10p, it contained something pretty integral to the day, and it had vanished. Yes, I repeat, it had gone.

As it was still pretty early, my mind was racing. Surely, someone hasn’t nicked it? I live in the middle of nowhere.

Everything then clicked. You see, the bag contained six lamprey and six mackerel, all dead, of course. They were killed humanely, just in case any ‘snowflakes’ are reading.

No one in their right mind would steal a lamprey, would they? It could only be an animal.

You see where I am going here? I don’t like deadbaiting, and I don’t like the climate much when it dips below 3 degrees Celsius, which it had. I was not a happy bunny.

I then looked at my clothing that I had prepared for the day. The pile, still in their packaging, contained an outfit from Lidl, designed for skiers. I’m no meteorologist, but I’m sure skiing is done in the cold, so it should be bob-on, right?

My day has started badly. ‘Frank The Cat’ or ‘Bill The Badger’ had pinched my deadbaits, deadbaiting being about as exciting as watching Day 1 at Wimbledon.