Issue 59 - The Casual Angler
It was the late summer of 1962 and I was exploring the banks of that famous water, the Throop Fishery at Christchurch. Although the memory has dimmed a little, I do recall recognising that this was a very different river from those I was used to fishing. In the unfamiliar crystal clear water, my polarising glasses (we did have them in those days) revealed the most enormous chub I had ever seen, mid-river and sporadically gleaming bronze as one of the shoal rolled. I had not seen this behaviour before in chub or anything else for that matter. I was so absorbed, that the hands shielding my eyes to exclude extraneous light, also masked the approach of a stranger . . .
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