Fishy but True, a story of one man and his Furba rod Dec20

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Fishy but True, a story of one man and his Furba rod

DIP-Furbacarp 2013-12-19_152456carp Unlikely but true

 

Hello there,

A while ago now, I picked up a comically small telescopic rod from your ebay shop. I finally managed to get out on the bank with it a while back, and I wanted get round to letting you know how I got on, and share a few photos.

Fishing time’s been getting harder and harder to find in recent years, between work, family and all that. I’d been thinking about a telescopic I could stick in my work bag for grabbing the odd hour here and there. I was a bit sceptical about the Furba – well, you would be, wouldn’t you – it’s tiny. But on the basis I genuinely could chuck it into whatever bag I was carrying, along with a few bits and bobs, I thought it was worth a punt as the thing most likely to get me out on the bank.

I will say, it’s a classy bit of kit. It spent its first few months being shown around the office, waved about, and generally appreciated. Getting out on the river to try it wasn’t happening, but it sat on my desk reminding me of what I was missing.

So a few months go by, and I finally have the afternoon off and some decent weather; which I thought was my chance to christen the rod on the way home, while my better half Carolin thought it would be perfect for a picnic and some blackberry picking. To cut a long story short, we compromised on an hour or so by the picturesque bit of the local stream, where picnic could be combined with a bit of fishing.

So with the rod, its tiny reel and some bits and bobs, we trotted over. There’s a good swim there, six or seven yards wide, bit of depth, willow trees making it picturesque for benefit of Herself, and usually a few chublets and the odd bream around the tree roots close in. Perfect for the rod, I thought.

So two bits of tesco value sweetcorn on a size twelve barbless, link legered under the near margin, and onto the Neville…

I’ll say at this point, Caro rarely sees me catch anything, so I’m always hoping to get something – anything – to show for it and usually get bugger all. So I was properly pleased when after four or five minutes, I got a half-dozen bleeps on the buzzer. I leaped over, saw the tip tightening round, and struck. Contact, and to say I was pleased was an understatement.

 

I had about ten seconds to appreciate the decent bend in the rod, hope I was into something net-sized, and tell Carolin to come have a look, then all hell broke loose.

The fish took off upstream like I’d hooked into a passing boat, taking fifty or so yards of line (I can tell you straight the drag on the reel works just fine), up under a railway bridge and straight towards a submerged tree where the stream bends round. Unable to follow, I did the only thing I could think of, which was clamping down and putting as much side-strain on as one can at that distance with a seven-foot rod.

Now, I’ve done a bit of rod building, and I know about their being points beyond which one shouldn’t be bending a carbon fibre tube; I can say that the rod went well beyond that point; the fish just kept going, and then I could feel the line scratching horribly over the tree roots. It all happened quickly from there – I went for broke, took a step back with the rod bent pretty much double, the fish held up in the snag, and the rod shattered. I grabbed the end of the line, trying desperately to tighten back into the fish.

All this time, Caro was looking on thinking I’d gone completely mental, having no idea what I was up to flailing about like this. For a long moment I thought the fish was off; then, suddenly, I was back in contact; with the shock of the break, the fish had kited out of the snag and was headed back downstream towards me.

There followed five minutes or so of me trying to handline the fish in – a painful business when it took off on another run, but handy that I do a bit of fly fishing and am used to playing a fish with the line in my hand. At this point, Caro chimed in with ‘so are you sure it’s a fish then?’ Which is actually a fair point – ’round my way, you can never quite be sure it’s not some exotic pet someone’s dumped in the river.

At this point the fish finally surfaced, with me hanging onto the line in one hand, trying not to make a hash with the net, and all the time thinking about the size twelve barbless and the frayed six pound line I was relying upon. And, for once in my fishing life, I got lucky. It went in the net first time. A common carp the right side of twenty pounds, comfortably the best fish I’ve ever landed – absolutely flawless and unmarked, nothing to suggest it had ever been caught before.

So, the rod didn’t last long, but it certainly delivered!  I’ve attached a few photos which I thought might make you smile.

All the best

Henry