John Wilson's Memorial Service
John Wilson, Britain's Greatest Angler ("The Greatest Angler of All Time" as voted for by readers of Angling Times), died on 13 November 2018. He was just 75 years old. His death shocked the angling world, especially those in the UK who were about to welcome him home following his five-year residence in Thailand. His memorial service was held at Norwich Cathedral at 2pm on Friday 24th May 2019. I was there paying tribute to my hero, along with several hundred people including famous anglers Jeremy Wade, John Bailey, Tim Paisley, Des Taylor and others.
Here is a transcript of the tributes made during the service, followed by a summary of why John Wilson was Britain's greatest angler to me and so many millions.
Norwich Cathedral begins filling to capacity ahead of John Wilson's memorial service.
Keith Arthur's tribute
First of all I'd like to say what an honour and a privilege it is for me to be standing here in memory of John Wilson with you. John's work in the media influenced us all, both in the written word through his books and in magazines, and most importantly through his television programmes which spanned twenty years.
John was already an established star before I made my first forays into television in a programme most of you will never have heard of called Fishermen's Tales. The programme was presented by Nicky Horne, who's still busy today on BBC local radio. John Wilson was invited to be a special guest on the live show.
Just a couple of weeks ago someone sent me a link to a very early TV appearance by John in the show introduced by none other than Richard Walker. John was charged with catching pike from what looked like an extremely cold Rockland Broad. Of course, John produced the goods, catching several pike, moving swims by rowing into a brisk north-easterly wind. Producing results is what John did throughout his television programmes. As someone who's been under pressure to catch fish with the restrictions of the TV – with a cameraman possibly in front of you between you and the fish, and a sound technician who wants to put a microphone here and hold great fluffy thing on a pole above your head – I can confirm it's not easy. Whilst on the subject of sound – described by one of the cameramen I've worked with as "10% of the show and 90% of the problems", TV has this nasty habit of 'compressing' you, removing the bass and treble, reducing what we sound like to a bit of a warbling dirge. Well, John soon learned about that; his catchphrases such as "Steady Wilson!" and "That's a Clonker!" endeared to his viewing audience that naturally was of all ages.
One of the best bits of advice I ever heard about TV presenting was to treat the camera as a mate. The trick is it think of it as someone fishing next to you or, in John's case, as someone over the counter of a tackle shop. No one could ever doubt that's how John did it. He was so natural, he said what he was thinking, and that chuckle or laugh was effortlessly infectious.
John's programmes were both inspirational and aspirational. Fishing the mighty Cauvery River in India trod a path that was followed by hundreds of anglers. His legendary guide Suban became an international hero, but always insisted that of all those who fished with him, John Wilson was the best. Ground-breaking trips were many: coastal fishing for bronze whaler sharks, immeasurable films John Wilson made on the River Wensum in Norfolk, the fantastic haul of double-figure bream in the days when they were almost as scarce as hens' teeth; they live long in memory.
I was fortunate to spend some time with John. He was a Tight Lines guest on several occasions and I was invited to fish his own lake at his house not too far from here. He taught me – no, he 'guided' me – to catch tench, naturally on the lift method with a centrepin, none of this method feeder nonsense. He asked if I'd ever caught a carp on a fly rod. I hadn't, but that was soon corrected as we moved to a secluded down-wind corner, found a couple of carp having a look; a couple of handfuls of floating pellets, John instructed me how and where to cast, and it didn't take very long to break that particular duck.
His mediums taught us to start fishing or try some of his ways. John provided a ready-made service to tackle shops. The famous John Wilson Avon Quiver became probably the best-selling fishing rod ever. It was the right price, it looked good, it worked brilliantly as a piece of tackle and – most important of all – John Wilson's name was on it. I worked in a tackle shop through the 1980s and we sold dozens and dozens. They were the easiest rod sales I ever made.
So to recap: John Wilson, a great angler and inspiration to everyone in our sport and many more who joined us because of him. Wonderful presenter, super writer, and thoroughly good man.
Martin Bowler's tribute
Where do I begin? With John Wilson the angling legend, or the John I knew? Fortunately he made it easy for me because they were exactly the same man. His talent wasn't restricted to a fishing show, the books he wrote or even the words he spoke; John wasn't only my favourite uncle, but also for a generation of anglers who were encouraged to wet a line and enjoy a passion that lasts a lifetime.
How many of us thank him for our sleepless nights where dreams were filled with peacock quills sat next to a patch of lilies, with frothing white bubbles building the excitement? Or maybe his favourite method, with centrepin in hand and a piece of flake heading downstream towards a willing roach? John's enthusiasm touched everyone. And for that, a mere thank you will never, never seem enough.
His own journey started with net in hand, chasing sticklebacks in the local brook. This was the gateway for more than this little lad from Enfield could ever imagine. It led to a river and on to a sea, before an ocean filled with fish and adventures.
I wonder what my grandad [John's father] would make of him after their trips to the Lea? According to him, angling could only ever be conducted under a float and not what John would cheekily do – freelining a worm or cheese paste – no doubt perfecting the 'chicken walk' in a set of cut-down waders. He would, of course, be immensely proud; as is all of John's family. But again, I'm reminded of what he meant to so many fishermen who feel the same about one of their own who achieved so, so much.
I could stand here all day, and probably need the night as well, to list all of his television shows, books and articles representing his body of work. His back-catalogue tells a story of a man addicted to angling. Being generous in nature, it was natural for him to share all his epic tales. John didn't keep secrets, because he wanted everyone to feel the same way as he did: in love with the countryside. Such a library, however, didn't come about by luck but total dedication. I've worked with many anglers and John was the most professional I have ever met. His meticulous planning and attention to detail was faultless. It's easy to imagine that catching a fish is a simple task, but it rarely is. And adding a deadline? I can assure you that nothing with a fin will open its mouth. John was an expert at keeping his nerve and sticking, unflustered, to the plan.
Remember it well that a true all-round angler needs to master Game, Sea and Coarse across the world – and only a handful can do that. If I needed someone to fish for my life, I would choose John without hesitation.
Not owning a bivvy or a bedchair was quite apt to him; he enjoyed a simplistic approach where location and stealth were the key. It obviously worked, given his personal best list. And when, as expected, the "What a clonker!" call came, he celebrated with a glass or two of red wine. "All in moderation" of course. And to this day, I don't know how an entire rack of bottles disappeared from my home after John and I enjoyed a barbel trip. I certainly didn't drink it!
I loved my time fishing with John, especially the element of competition that was close at hand. He liked nothing more than beating 'Super Kid', his nickname for me. Our last trip together came in Thailand where the banter flowed. John's enthusiasm was as strong as ever, shouting "Not too bad for an old boy!" as an Arapaima did its best to drag him under the water. How we laughed as he won the match. I will treasure this, and all our other trips, until my dying day.
Many here fished with the great man, and even if you didn't then your favourite angling show or book meant you did in a way. Because, like I said at the beginning, the person I knew was the same person you did. I can assure you: the laugh was real, and so was the fun. Because he loved angling, and angling loved him.
So, goodbye John and enjoy the river in the sky. I can hear him now, as a three-pound roach comes over the net: "Careful Wilson!"
The photo of John Wilson and family following is MBE ceremony, proudly displayed at the front of Norwich Cathedral.
Lisa Wilson (John Wilson's daughter)
A British fisherman, voted the greatest angler of all time, an MBE for services to angling, an author of over 30 books, a journalist, a TV presenter, a conversationist, but most importantly: a devoted husband, a brother, a son, an uncle, a grandad to seven grandchildren, a father to two children, but also my dad. To the world he was John Wilson, a fishing legend with the infectious laugh, but to me he was my world. So wait to grieve world, I'm going to give you all an insight into what this truly unforgettable man meant to me.
Honestly? I couldn't stand fishing. I remember thinking as a child, about eight years old: "Why couldn't you have chosen something else to be famous for? A pop star, fashion designer? But fishing?"
When I started to write this, I don't mind admitting I stalled. I laughed, I cried; I cried a lot. How do you eulogise a man whose laugh and personality preceded him? Who for the most part was John Wilson and not always able to be 'just dad'. He became known in the eighties. I was only about eight years old and demanding of my dad's time. 'Daddy's Little Girl', like all daughters should be. And like a devoted daughter I was not prepared to share my dad with anyone, least of all these TV people. But I had to. That set the scene for our relationship, with me trying to spend as much time with Dad as I could. Being in his company was something I never tired of, or never would have.
My first fishing experience was aged five. Me and Dad would go night fishing and sleep in the back of the car in our sleeping bags, Dad wishing to get me to sleep; he'd then set up the rods, the chairs, optimistically the keep net, and then spending however long unpicking the line from the trees that I'd excitedly cast into, or holding his tongue with frustration but desperately not wanting to dull my enthusiasm as I had wound this poor fish right to the top eye of the rod. I then got 'the look', a look that many of you will know. His determination was me in the making. Of course Dad always wanted a picture, getting it just right, the importance of colour – believe it or not, his shirts were always carefully chosen, they ranged from red to green to checks – ever the perfectionist.
A motivator, a mentor, a leader, a most pragmatic character and personality, if you were to look up the word "passionate" and its meaning, you would find my dad's name. A word that encompasses everything that he was. He believed in how he lived his life was with passion.
Dad lived and breathed the outdoors, the flora and the fauna, he had the utmost respect for the environment he was in, no matter where he worked or had the privilege of travelling to. He embraced it. He learned by the culture, not just the fishing.
His might was outstanding and impressive. This was evident through his writing and his talking, you felt his passion and I always felt that I was learning when being in my dad's company. And I so miss that. Needless to say, those trips as a small child diminished. But fast forward and I was promoted. I had a Saturday job in my dad's fishing shop. Many of you here today will remember me. I will take this opportunity however to apologise for the dreadful haircuts you may have witnessed that I had, that having a dad as a ladies' hairdresser created. Fond memories are without doubt riddling the maggots and cleaning the stock room, and of course getting dad his red wine and moussaka from Kosta the Greek down the alley. I smiled when I witnessed Dad cringing when I took a duster to his newly-made vice and the young boys who came in to touch everything in sight with no intention of buying. Dad was not child friendly.
A fact that many of you might know is that my dad loved to sing, and like most things he was good at it. Glen Campbell, Frank Sinatra, The Carpenters, Peters and Lee, to name but a few. I've grown to love those songs, I sing them in my car. It makes me feel close to him.
I am blessed with the four most amazing children...they adored and loved their grandad – [my eldest] being the most fortunate as the first grandchild. One of Dad's favourite stories was when he came with me to take [her] for an eye test. She was just four years old. She was asked to recite pictures and numbers. When seeing a picture of a tree, what did she say? She said "Conifer". My dad so laughed. You all know the laugh. The endless walks with grandad around the lake had rubbed off and all come to fruition, it was one of his proudest moments. [My other children] also fished with their grandad at his home in Thailand. Again came the look, the worry, the tension; his twin grandchildren using his fishing gear. Hilarious to see. Jo and I laughing and ridiculously sobbing at his child-friendly ways. But getting in the boat, and with the dogs, being at the lake, teaching them the flora and the fauna; teaching, playing with the adults, playing the Arapaima game with Nanny, he used to laugh; it was priceless to see. He absolutely loved it.
Becoming a mum, and all that it stands for, has enabled me to become ever understanding of the difficulties trying to carve out a career juggled with being a parent can be. And we can all relate to this. I never stopped to think how hard it must have been for my dad to have to make that choice being in such demand in his career. His choices, though, were the right ones because his success due in people who had no interest in fishing, who had never picked up a rod; his passion came out the TV and enabled sons and fathers, husbands and wives, grandparents and their grandchildren, the opportunities to fish and be together, spending time together – something that has radically died out in this digitally-driven world and a world that my dad had started to detest. Incidentally, I had to have a word with my dad, as I was most put out that he had reached 5000 friends on his Facebook account and didn't have any room for me. I was fortunate to have this 'all of my Dad' in later years, catching blue sharks in the Catch-and-Release programme in New York where they filmed Jaws – something that meant a lot to Dad. I will add that I came seventh out of seventeen, and Dad came thirteenth. Fishing in Oban in Scotland, catching giant Skate in a TV episode of Go Fishing, and again I'm glad that mine was considerably larger.
I was, and I will always be, in awe of watching him fishing. So, how do I do my absolute hero – my role model, my first love – justice and make him proud in a matter of minutes? I can't. I just have to try every day.
Dads and daughters. My dad had the ability to make me feel like a little girl reaching out for his hand. He would protect me from anything, I feel lost without him and my heart aches.
Throughout my life, my childhood, my adulthood, becoming a mum four times to my wonderful children; my trials from being a single mum, he has always been there and I started in the last few years to take care of him and he welcomed it because that is what life is about. Our conversations over the last few years, especially, were of depth and honesty and understanding, and respect of what can only come with age and I always told him how much I loved him and how much I adored him. Our sobbing goodbyes at the airport were heartbreaking. My dad knows that I would have travelled to the other side of the world or further just to give him one more hug.
The saying that 'Little girls can wrap their dads around their little finger' is true, but for me it was the other way round. I'm lost without you Dad. My world has lost its sparkle. But I promise to look after Jo, the way you need me to, to always be there for her, to carry on your legacy with all my heart is something I promise to do. It is a privilege to be your daughter and to have you as my dad, because no one else will ever come close.
Jo Wilson (John Wilson's wife)
A candle burns bright in a window of gold
A beacon for life's weary heart
Promising beauty and splendours untold
Of a world that now keeps us apart
We travelled the path of our lives side by side
But this path you walked on your own
To a world where no pain and no suffering reside
While I stay in this world alone
So darling please tend to the candle for me
And nourish the flame lest it dies
Till the day when its radiant beauty I see
And it guides me at last to your side.
Canon Andy Bryant
"So, are you taking John's service then?"
"Yes, I am"
"Oh, I love John! I mean, I'm not interested in fishing at all, but I never miss one of his programmes."
How do you even begin to describe the impact that John has had in his life? Is it in the advice he gave to countless people over the counter in his shop? Is it in the number of countries he fished in, or the number of rivers, lakes or seas in which he fished? Is it in the size of his catches or the number of different species he'd caught? (I'm reliably informed is 217 different freshwater and saltwater species in 34 different countries.) He described his legacy as being his books and his 160 TV programmes.
How do you begin to sum up this man? In part, it is all of the above. It's also something about the man himself – about John. Consummate professional, a great communicator, an enthusiast willing to give his time to help and inspire others and someone who knew how to live life to the full. He had a charisma that made him a household name which has left a lifelong mark on the world around him. The world around him mourns the passing of one of its true greats. We also need to remember that today is something deeply personal. It's about Jo mourning the death of her beloved John; it's about Lee and Lisa mourning the death of their father, and about grandchildren mourning for their grandfather. All of us here want to involve them in our thoughts and our prayers and surround them with our love.
I'm not sure I should ask this question in such august company, but what is it that makes a great fisherman? I'm absolutely certain that every one of you here will give me your own version of that. Is it the skill with a rod? Is it the knowledge of the habits of different fish? Is it that indescribable thing – just the 'feel' of the water? I'm sure it's all of these and much much more that make the complete package.
I want to suggest to you that there's one very special thing, and it's this: it's an approach to time. A willingness to buy time. To be patient. To enjoy the moment, and not hurry. By knowing time, we really care. Time to be still and time to act. Our approach to time matters. Nothing teaches us more about time than the death of those nearest and dearest to us, when a loved one that we look up to dies. It challenges us and asks us: "Have we got the balance right in our own lives?" We can become too easily wrapped up in our business, rushing from one thing to another, endless to-do lists, always feeling like we're trying to catch up with something. We seek and, if we're honest, often fail to balance work, family, friends and colleagues.
John lived life to the full but he also found time to stop and stare, to sit and quietly let the water go by, to marvel at the mystery and wonder of the world around him.
As we gather together to give thanks for John's life and to celebrate all his achievements, maybe we also need to take a moment to reflect on our own lives and ask "Are we time wise?" If we have the balance right, between the planting and the plucking, between the keeping and the throwing away, the tearing and sowing, between speaking and keeping silent.
We live our lives making and surrounded by noise. It's almost as if we're frightened to be alone. But a good angler learns the importance of silence. It is in the silence that we have time to think, to reflect, to let ourselves get caught up in the great mystery of life, to see beyond the creature to the creator.
Through his books and programmes, John helped to reveal something of the wonder and beauty and mystery of creation, as well as championing the right stewardship of the world around us. It is often in the midst of the natural world, especially close to nature, that many of us also find ourselves close to God, profoundly sensing that there is something more to life.
Today, we come together to celebrate and give thanks for John's life. We acknowledge deep sadness at his death, but in this magnificent ancient place of worship we also dare to hint that there is something more. Yes, John will live on in our memories and through his books and television programmes and as well as in the tales of 'the ones that got away'.
I want to suggest to you today that there is something more. I want to suggest that death is not the end but rather the closing of one chapter and the opening of a new and greater chapter. As we gather here to say farewell to John, on another and greater shore others are gathered to welcome him home.
"What is heaven like?" you may well ask. Ultimately none of us know. All I can say to you is that I am convinced that it is something infinitely more wonderful and more beautiful that any of us can begin to imagine or conceive. And it it to this new life with God that we come to commend John, in the sure and certain knowledge of God's love for both the living and the departed.
In a few moments of silence, I want to invite you to take one very special and treasured memory about John and in this silence take that memory and hold it close to your heart. And in the stillness quietly lift this memory up to God and say "Thank you for John, thank you for our memories of him, thank you for all you will always be to us". So let's be still and treasure our memories of this most amazing man.
Standing room only at the back of the Cathedral during John Wilson's memorial service.
The congregation enjoys the sunshine after John Wilson's memorial service at Norwich Cathedral.
Note: This transcript was written by hand, live during the service. If you were there and believe that I have missed anything or misquoted, then please contact me and suggest an edit.
John Wilson MBE: Britain's greatest angler
John Wilson was a household name thanks to his Go Fishing series on TV. An expert angler, naturalist and prolific writer, he first appeared in print in 1971 and owned a fishing tackle shop in Norwich for many years. It was when he was spotted by Anglia Television, to present their new TV series called Go Fishing, that he became famous. The angling television series ran from 1986 to 2002. It started by capturing the essence of British freshwater fishing (viewed through the eyes of an angler-naturalist who was as absorbed as much by waterside flora and fauna as the fishing) before casting lines into saltwater and further afield to countries and oceans around the world, appealing to a progressively global audience. John Wilson then presented series such as John Wilson's Fishing Safari (2004), John Wilson's Dream Fishing (2007), John Wilson's 20 Greatest Catches (2008), and John Wilson's Fishing World (2009) on satellite television. In all, he made 160 programmes. He also wrote more than 30 books, each of which was instructional, informative and inspirational. He was an outstandingly talented angler, for all species worldwide. He was awarded an MBE in 2009 for services to angling.
A natural television presenter
John Wilson had a relaxed and infectiously enthusiastic presentation style, warmly inviting the viewer into his world to catch fish and angle in places that were beyond most people's wildest dreams. Yet even with his outstanding fish-catching ability, he would always remain authentically excited by the capture of any fish – giggling, chuckling, laughing, and coining catchphrases such as "It's a clonker!". John Wilson obviously loved fishing and being outdoors, and this was central to his success: he inspired people to pick up a fishing rod and enjoy the pleasures of fishing.
John Wilson and me
Like many, I discovered John Wilson through his TV series Go Fishing. I remember, as a fishing-mad twelve-year-old, being allowed to stay up late (10pm) to watch the first episode broadcast on Channel 4. That programme, about pike fishing, transformed my angling life. I'd previously only fished for trout but was now introduced to a new world of coarse fish, new tactics and – perhaps most influential of all – a new appreciation and understanding of the way an angler views the countryside.
I recorded the first nine series on television, (I still have them, albeit transferred from VHS to DVD), observing how in the early series, John Wilson would spend up to a quarter of the programme talking about nature: often starting with the weather and then observing the seasonal wildlife before linking to how the fisherman becomes part of the watery environment through the act of angling. No wonder, therefore, that when I won a prestigious design award at school in 1989, I asked for John Wilson's book 'Go Fishing' as my prize. This book, along with the award certificate within it, remains as pride of place on my bookshelf. It led to so many things, so much fishing, so many captures and adventures; ultimately to creating this website and my series of angling books and articles.
Meeting John Wilson
I met John Wilson three times: first on the banks of the Royalty Fishery in 1992, where he was reccying the water prior to filming the next day; second was at an angling exhibition in Malvern in the mid-nineties, and third was at the annual awards dinner of the Angling Writers' Association in 2010. Each and every time he was exactly as he appeared on TV: encouraging, interested, helpful, jovial, chatty, and incredibly down-to-earth. I never detected any sense of ego, merely a confidence that comes from years of achievement. Right from the beginning, when he loaned me his polaroid sunglasses so that I could see barbel swimming beneath the pipe bridge on the Royalty ("Go for the amber-lensed Optix Cormorant glasses – you'll see more!"), to the end when I nervously approached him and explained that I felt slightly out my my depth being in such esteemed company ("Aw, nonsense; come here, have a drink!"), John Wilson put me at my ease, made me feel special, and opened my eyes to a new way of seeing and fishing. He was like a favourite uncle that I knew really well, even though I hardly knew him at all, and in reality I was just one of millions to him. Perhaps that was his greatest ability: to present, write, or speak in a way that was inherently personal and 1-1, as though it were just he and I together.
My deepest sympathy goes to Jo, Lisa, Lee and the rest of John's family, and my greatest thanks go to John himself for a lifestime's wonderment. He will be greatly missed.
John Wilson presents a writing award to Charles Rangely-Wilson during the 2010 Angling Writers' Association dinner. I was on photo duty. Sadly, this was the last time that he and I met.
John Wilson in person
Here's a selection of John Wilson's best moments on YouTube.
The original opening credits and theme tune to the first series of Go Fishing, as broadcast on Channel 4 in 1987.
John Wilson's early forays into presenting, as mentioned in Keith Arthur's tribute to him.
John Wilson's legendary bream haul, captured on film.
John Wilson fishing for Golden Mahseer in India, capturing the final glory days of this magnificent fish.
John Wilson introduces us to his beautiful new home in Thailand.
John Wilson interviewed during a brief return to the UK in 2018. Sadly and unknowingly, this was filmed just a few precious months before he died.
Footnote - Praise for the tribute
This blog about the John Wilson memorial service was very well received. Lisa Wilson (John Wilson's daughter) contacted me, thanking me for the record of 'the most beautiful day' and saying that she and Jo (John's widow) very much approve of the blog; as did Martin Bowler (John's nephew), who said that it was a 'lovely tribute'. It goes to show the power of words in conveying sentiments towards someone who had such wide-scale impact on angling and a massive influence on my life. I'm pleased to have paid tribute. Fennel.
Lisa Wilson has requested that any charity donations be made to Make-a-Wish or Prostate Cancer UK.