If angling was as easy as fishing through the contacts in the back of your local newspaper, then that is how my advert would read.

Let me introduce and give a brief background on myself, my name is Peter McMillan, I was born in the seafront town of Whitehaven in Cumbria, England on the 6th of the 6th, 1982. I am the youngest of three and the only boy. I'm a beginner fishman of 19 years and currently going through fishing style changes ie: I am beginning to spend money on fishing stuff.

It all started out in the humble fishing village of Parton, a small place situated near Whitehaven, in the year of our Lord 1987.

As far as my memory allows me to remember, I was 4 years old and had just been given a present from one of the local fishermen.

To me it was a work of art, the Holy Grail, but to the rest of the population it was a bunch of hooks and line wrapped round an 8 inch stick. But this allowed me, for the first time to dangle a hook into the reflected sky and sit impatiently waiting to see what would happen.

It was only after a few days of not catching did someone point out the need for bait! Soon small bullies and crabs where slowly coming to surface, to the delight of this 4 year old fisherboy.

Years passed on - a house move was made and at the tender age of seven I had already moved away from hand line fishing in favour of the net! I found myself in the new surroundings of the small town of Wigton. Here there was no backyard ocean, no rock pools with their abundance of hungry patient fish waiting for the tide to free them. Here the only fishing haven I got to know was that of the small stream that ran through the bottom of the town. It held tiny catfish and small eels and many an evening was spent with a friend, standing in 6 inch of water, lifting rocks while simultaneously holding a small Pound Shop net waiting for any fish to swim out.

Alas this type of fishing did not last long as my mother and my would-be step-dad had planned a move. This single move would change not only my life but more importantly my fishing life forever!

We were to move to Ireland. Unknown to me at the time, we were moving to a fishing heaven. A Mecca of wonderful unfished lakes, and natural unspoilt countryside. A place that brings fishing tourists from all over the world. How can such a small island harbour such a magnificent resource?

We moved in 1999, around Halloween time. It was not until the following year that my fishing interest kicked in. I think it started with a trip to the local river that summer for a swim as temperatures were soaring (a rare thing in Ireland). As we were paddling I decided to try looking under rocks. I found there were also fish in abundance here, even more so, and upon looking upstream, rising fish stirred my interest. For the first time I realised that I had other crafts to learn if I wanted to catch "real" fish.

I started watching fishing program after fishing program. I bought "The Art of Fishing" in order to educate myself into catching something, anything! John Wilson became my number one idol. He showed just how much fun could be had with even the smallest fish. He would catch so many and constantly laughing, I thought that finally I had found my poison.

For years I would go out to the small pond down the road and come home empty handed. Fish could be seen splashing the surface yet not one could be caught. My heart would be broken, until Go fishing would pop on and Wilson would show me a different tactic and then the interest was sparked again.

Finally my parents felt a bit sorry for me and decided to do something about it. On a visit to the local pub they got chatting to one of the villagers, a man by the name of Morris Connors, and after a few drinks - brought up the subject of my fish catching needs. He of course being a trout fisherman and a very nice fella, insisted that he take me fishing to catch my first Irish trout. Upon hearing the news I was delighted. I was dropped at his house with my bike and the two of us proceeded to head to the banks of the River Suir, about two miles outside Templemore. We fished all day and caught nothing, but he explained that early in the season fishing was hard and he promised that next week he would take me to a stretch of river that almost guaranteed results - and it did.

On our next outing we arrived at a small river near Johnstown, Kilkenny - and I departed with two small trout of just over 1/4lbs each. I was over the moon. I had found tactics that worked. I went on to catch many more trout, up to a pound in weight with simple ledgering tactics. My fishing career took a further leap when I was introduced to spinning for pike the local Templemore lake. Here I caught my biggest fish of the time, a 2lb jack pike.

One day while spinning for pike, a young boy of similar age decided to befriend me and invited me for a lesson on bubble float fishing for different species. He showed me that with a simple setup consisting of one orange bubble float, a size 14 hook and a piece of bread or a few maggots I could catch nearly a hundred fish in a few hours. My attention soon turned from predatory pike to the pike's favourite meal, the beautiful rudd. A few months fishing this way and I discovered the best places to catch the bigger rudd. There was the corner that nobody fished because it was out of the way and too shallow; the place where everybody fed the ducks and the place where there were too many reeds. Here the bigger rudd would patrol along fairly set routes looking for food. Soon 2lb rudd were coming to the net. Fishing couldn't get any better.

Well it could! On a visit with my new found fishing buddy Mark, to a tourist village on Lough Derg, I found that indeed fishing could get better, for here I merged a simple style of fishing learnt while trout fishing, to the art of coarse fishing. This tactic was simple and would win me many junior coarse competitions in the future. One size 10 hook on 6lbs line with two SSG shots sitting together about a foot from the hook. Ledgering had established itself as my primary means of fishing. No matter what type of fish I was after, this setup would have a good chance of succeeding.

Tenching coupled with spinning for trout became my main means of fishing. I would wake up at 4am and jump out of bed, quickly get dressed and run to the kitchen, there I would prepare a lovely feast of spaghetti on toast, have a quick cuppa and jump on my bike to cycle into town to fish for tench. I would fish from 5am till around 1pm, depending on what time the tench stopped feeding and then cycle home. Not once would I feel tired till I got home and sat down. Good days would bring me over 50lbs of tench, bad days would bring me only a few, but even if no fish were caught - my enthusiasm for the sport would not wane.

Every now and then I would try my hand at fly fishing for trout. I always classed the sport as rather posh and pompous, mainly through seeing rich men fishing for salmon along with their well-paid gillies, expensive beats, £1,000 rods and clothes that were better suited to 18th century England. After all - I was still at a young age of 16.

Soon I found that I had misjudged my fellow anglers. They are similar anglers to coarse anglers; they share the same goals, they may in some instances be a little more traditional but as I found, they enjoy the same principles.

I found fly-fishing to be a totally different ball-game and a welcome change to my constant tench fishing. For here I was fooling a fish and seeing the exciting results unfold before my eyes. I found myself tuned in to what I was doing. Tench fishing allowed me to sit and relax and wait, but with fly-fishing things were evolving around me. I had to stay tuned into the world around me in order to try and get ahead of my prey. Changing fly hatches to changing wind and temperature, everything played a part. Olives would hatch for a few minutes and then disappear till the next day. I learned to pay more attention. Keeping things basic paid off. A 7 1/2lbs Brownie came to my net one afternoon and remains my greatest fish to date, not my biggest, but still my greatest. My biggest is a modest 10lbs pike, not huge, but still my personal best weight.

This brief summary of my fishing life brings me to my current state. I have developed as an angler through perseverance, sheer love for the sport and mainly through the help of fellow anglers. In an age where people are getting more and more reluctant to talk to strangers, never mind share the deepest fishing secrets, it's nice to meet someone who can help. Friendly advice has led me a long way down a path that will see me fishing for as long as I am physically and mentally able, but it has also led me down a path that I will never reach the end of. Fishing is forever evolving.

I am now starting to invest more money in the sport that reared me, I am buying more specialised equipment, fishing lakes that are outside my immediate locality and talking more to fishermen that are walking shyly past me as I fish. For knowledge is nothing unless it is shared.

And on this last note I leave you, as I prepare for my last fishing trip of this year. A two day, none-stop session on Lough Bridget in East Clare, Ireland, with my friend Mark and my loving girlfriend Mari, who I have just introduced to the sport and is loving it so far.

So I leave you till next time, a beginner of 19 years.

Peter McMillan. Age 23.
Fishing experience 19 yrs.

Many thanks to Peter McMillan for sending us this Anglers Tales - Ed

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