From the mid 1960's to to the mid 70's I used to fish the River Darent, a small stream in Kent that flows from Sevenoaks into the Thmes at Dartford. It was a gem of a stream. Crystal clear, gravel bed, traling weed in which I caught chub to four pounds, roach to a pound, cracking dace, the odd wild brownie and hordes of gudgeon.
From my home in Bexleyheath it was a long ride on a green line bus and even further on my push bike with a knapsack across my back and the rod strapped to to the cross bar but it was worth it as it was there I learned my watercraft, to trot a float, to keep quiet, to use a centre pin, to appreciate the wildlife and understand that fishing is much more than mere catching.
Hadn't been back for thirty years, but on an afternoon off yesterday, thought i would return for a nostalgic walk and perhaps check out some swims for the weekend.
Wished I hadn't and stuck to my memories. The river was dead. the gravel bottom was covered in silt and reeds covered the banks. The flow, even after last month's torrential rain was down to a trickle and it was barely a yard wide and a few inches deep in places.
Thiry years ago i could have seen shoals of roach, dace and chub. yesterday - nothing. Even the shoals of minnows (a sign of health in any river) were gone.
Dooes it mattter? - just down the road from where i used to fish is a commercial thats crammed with fish, has nice level banks, trimmed back trees, toilets and even a cafe. perhaps I'm just a sad old git, but can't help feeling that something valuable and irreplaceable has gone and we are all the poorer.
From my home in Bexleyheath it was a long ride on a green line bus and even further on my push bike with a knapsack across my back and the rod strapped to to the cross bar but it was worth it as it was there I learned my watercraft, to trot a float, to keep quiet, to use a centre pin, to appreciate the wildlife and understand that fishing is much more than mere catching.
Hadn't been back for thirty years, but on an afternoon off yesterday, thought i would return for a nostalgic walk and perhaps check out some swims for the weekend.
Wished I hadn't and stuck to my memories. The river was dead. the gravel bottom was covered in silt and reeds covered the banks. The flow, even after last month's torrential rain was down to a trickle and it was barely a yard wide and a few inches deep in places.
Thiry years ago i could have seen shoals of roach, dace and chub. yesterday - nothing. Even the shoals of minnows (a sign of health in any river) were gone.
Dooes it mattter? - just down the road from where i used to fish is a commercial thats crammed with fish, has nice level banks, trimmed back trees, toilets and even a cafe. perhaps I'm just a sad old git, but can't help feeling that something valuable and irreplaceable has gone and we are all the poorer.
