Sample chapter from Friendship
Have you seen the BBC series A Passion for Angling? The programmes where Chris Yates and Bob James went in search of monsters, legends and dreams in the greatest angling series ever broadcast. Rather astoundingly, it’s more than 20 years since the series was shown. That’s a long time without angling appearing on the BBC. A long time for traditional angling to play second fiddle to the laddish ‘it’s all about catching fish’ programmes that proliferate satellite television. Traditionalists like me lived in hope that one day there would be an opportunity to bring our gentle form of fishing back to the masses.
What would you think, then, if you received an email and then a phone call from the BBC, asking you to help them create a TV series? This is what happened to me at 5pm on the 8th February 2013 when I was contacted by a researcher from the BBC’s Natural History Unit. He’d stumbled upon the Priory website and wanted to talk to me about traditional angling. “Why?” I enquired. “Because my team are researching a new fishing series for BBC2,” he replied, “which seeks to feature the breadth and depth of the best fishing to be had in and around the UK; to showcase the enthusiasm, passion and skill of the anglers of Britain. It will demonstrate to viewers how entwined angling and nature should be. Finally, it should help to explain the skills necessary to becoming a competent angler. Your perspectives of ‘it’s not all about the fish’ and ‘I’m almost always distracted by the other pleasures of being next to water’ appeals to us. We need to talk!” After several hours of discussions he persuaded me to attend a workshop at The Natural History Unit in Bristol, where we would swap ideas for the series.
The TV series, provisionally titled The Big Fish, would be shown at prime time on a Sunday evening. As a spin off to The Great British Bake Off, it would follow a similar format with two presenters setting challenges and assessing the outcomes of the contestant’s performance. The anglers would be from all disciplines (game, coarse, sea) and would be asked to catch certain species, or fish specific waters, using a particular tactic or item of tackle. To make the activities more diverse (and audience friendly), experts would be brought in each week to set a challenge: such as tying a particular type of fly, or cooking the fish using a special technique, or tying rigs, or digging bait; in fact anything that would prove entertaining to the non-fishing members of the audience. I was asked to set challenges associated with traditional angling: such as using a Kelly Kettle, or how to choose an appropriately stupendous hat, or Wallis casting a centrepin, or making quill floats, or identifying waterside flora.
“Great!” said the researcher as we concluded the workshop, “Let’s get the camera going and film a show reel. But of course, we’ll need a number of you.”
Two meetings later and after countless email and telephone exchanges, I assembled my ‘A Team’ of traditional anglers for filming. All Friends of the Priory, the line-up was: Jon ‘Guido’ Berry, Les ‘Teme Lad’ Darlington, Mick ‘Demus’ Canning, Richard ‘Angelus’ Battersby, Jason ‘Hedge’ White, Peter ‘Champ’ Champion, John ‘Stan’ Summers, Stuart ‘SK’ Harris, and me.
We met at Barton Court Fishery on the River Kennet on the 7th March 2013. The weather was wintry, with drizzle falling from cool grey skies. Light levels were so low that we wondered whether filming was possible, but at 10am our friends from Auntie Beeb arrived and confirmed that conditions were fine – especially for close up shots. Matt Richards (Researcher), Jez Hunziker (Cameraman) and Simon Hawtin (Development Producer) commented immediately on the aesthetic quality of our tackle and attire, and asked why nine anglers had seven Kelly Kettles between them but only five cakes. “Is it all about the tea?” they enquired, “Or all about the cake?”
First point of call was for the Beeb to film the tea-making duties. Commenting on the novelty of the Kelly Kettles, they decided to film a competition between all seven Kelly owners to see who could get their Kettle to boil first. So we ‘stuffed, lit and blew for England’ until the scene was filled with smoke and laughter.
We were filmed discretely over tea while discussing the nuances of our style of fishing: that traditional angling is a mind-set, and the tackle is a statement of identity; that we’re reacting to the overly competitive and serious modern angling scene; that it’s about escapism, where we treasure the aesthetics of angling – viewing the sport through artist’s rather than engineer’s eyes.
Hearing the guys talk so passionately and knowledgably about our sport made me so immensely proud to be in their company. They’d immediately agreed to attend the session, had travelled hundreds of miles to be there, and had banished many nerves to put themselves in front of the camera. No one had asked “What’s in it for me?”
There’d been no fame seeking and no discussion about payment for expenses. They were there because we wanted our interpretation of angling to be known to others.
Energised by our discussions, we each set off to the river with the camera crew in tow. We fished as normal, with the BBC team roving about and filming us as they passed. Those of us who were trotting maggots soon caught plenty of dace, chub and out-of-season trout; Demus caught a 20lb pike, but the hoped-for grayling proved impossible.
I was the last to be filmed, which, to my detriment, was not a good thing. Having too long to prepare can make one’s nerves become troublesome. I was so flustered by the time the camera was rolling, I’d all but forgotten the script I was supposed to say and was quickly wrong-footed by the interview questions. Expecting to be asked about the history of angling (and the conflicting doctrines of Bernard Venables and Richard Walker) I was instead asked, “If you were a fish, what specie would you be?” Without thinking, and forgetting that the camera would capture my answer forever, I said “Well, I’d like to tell you that I’m a salmon: you know, born in fresh water; goes out to sea to feast non-stop for a few years, then comes back to the river for the orgy of his life! So if you hook him, there’s no stopping him; ‘cos he’s on a promise! But I’m not a salmon. I’m a bream. One sign of action and I flap about for twenty seconds before rolling over in a spent daze.” Matt, Jez and Simon burst out laughing and, as Jez tried his best to steady the camera, Simon said, “That’s a take!”
We’d achieved what we set out to accomplish. Feedback from the BBC at the end of the day confirmed that they’d had a fantastic time: “We were so impressed by the passion, knowledge and intelligence – with a hint of hedonism – of the anglers. Your priorities were so clear: watercraft, understanding of natural history, applied knowledge, technical skill, camaraderie and deliberate lack of competition, empathy with the environment, and most of all pragmatism through your ability to laugh at apparent failure. And of course, you’re all bonkers; at least by modern standards. Very much at the extreme end of pleasure angling where you’re genuinely unconcerned by the prospect or reality of not catching fish.”
The result of the filming was a showreel that was presented to the Commissioning Executives at the BBC. They liked it, so it was pitched to Janice Hadlow, the Controller of BBC2. Her feedback was: “Although entertaining, I question whether angling has mass audience appeal – especially for women.” The project went on the back burner and dust began to settle on any hopes for another BBC angling series.
Fast-forward twelve months and a new Controller was at the helm of BBC2. Kim Shillingshaw, assisted by Executive Producer Tim Martin (a keen fly fisher), had commissioned the series. Significant budget was assigned and the series was going global. To appeal to the international franchise market, it would focus almost exclusively on sport fishing using fly and spin tactics. Gone were the quintessentially British waters and eccentricity, replaced by the wow factor of visiting the most dramatic and desirable fishing locations in the world. By December 2014 things were in full swing with Cheryl Richardson as Producer and Hugh Coulson as Angling Consultant. The press releases went out and would-be contestants were invited to apply. SK and I were in the mix, and after much nail biting we were confirmed as making the shortlist of 20, beating 4,000 hopeful applicants.
The first formal audition was on Saturday 10th January 2015, at Hayward’s Farm Trout Fishery near Reading. First, we had to complete a ‘Three Minute Challenge’ at the on-site tackle shop to kit ourselves out for GT. (GT? What on earth’s that? A game on the Xbox, right?) Secondly some casting tests – in gale force winds – double-hauling a six-inch pike fly on 9-weight fast sinking line and accuracy casting with a spinning rod. Finally we each did a piece to camera, where we were interviewed about why we fish.
The producers questioned whether our tweed attire and vintage tackle would transfer to the intended international locations. “How might you dress if fishing in Africa?” they asked. “What tackle would you use for Sturgeon in Canada?” It was clear that they considered ‘English Eccentric’ to be something best captured through personality rather than appearance. SK got his feedback – that he was not through to the final auditions – but I was lucky, making it into the final 12.
The last audition was on Sunday 24th January 2015, again at Hayward’s. It involved fly casting accuracy (landing a fly on 12-inch plates at different distances), distance fly casting (double hauling to cast beyond the fly line into the backing), and two pieces to camera (commentary while fishing, and group commentary while setting up our tackle.) My audition was successful. I was presented with a pre-broadcast non-disclosure agreement and a contract. My doctor then confirmed my ‘fitness for work’. Three references were requested and provided: one for angling competence (from the secretary of my angling club), a character reference (from an accountant friend) and a reference from my employer confirming that I would be released from work for the required six weeks of filming. I was copied on all but the last one.
Everything was going great until I had a phone call at 5.30pm on a Thursday night in February. It was Cheryl the Producer, informing me that competition had been exceptionally high for the places and that I had not made the final 10 that would appear on the show.
What? How could this be?
“I’m sorry,” said Cheryl, “We just can’t take this any further.” Dazed, I thanked her for the call and put the phone down. I was so close but had fallen at the final hurdle.
A lot can go through your head when the pain of rejection kicks you in the nuts. I wondered what I had done wrong, or whether others were simply better and more worthy, or whether something else was at play? I licked my wounds and wished the best for the lucky ones who’d made the grade. They would have the adventure of a lifetime.
At 8am the following morning I had a phone call from my Head of Department at work. He said: “I’ve been reflecting on this request for time off. In case you were wondering where your loyalty lies, it is to The Company. Your priority over the coming months is to lead a global training tour, not take holiday or unpaid leave. You should also remember to remind others of your extended sick leave last year…about how your mental state is negatively affected by pressure.”
My conclusion, during the enforced 28-week world tour that followed? That the only company that truly matters is the company of friends. And it doesn’t take much to know who your friends are.