CC Moore
Gemini
Corus NEW
Yeti
Jim Wilson Columnists
Image

An Officer And A Gentleman

Policeman, carp fisherman, syndicate manager, sponsored angler… Jim Wilson talks about his early experiences with a rod and line, his favourite captures, and how he manages to fit everything in!

Where did it all start for you in angling?
“I guess it started the same way as it did for many of us. As a kid, my dad would take my younger brother and me fishing for bits on the local rivers and lakes. We fished for everything and anything that came along. We learned how to trot a float on a chalk stream and feeder-fish for bream, and we even used a swing tip—not that many people will remember those, these days. It started when I was about six or seven, I guess, and we kept catching carp on the float and feeder set-ups. I would have been around eleven when the carp bug really struck, when I had my first double-figure fish. It was a mirror of around 11lb, from a local club water called Black Bank, and that really ignited the fire in me to fish for carp. I acquired my first matching set-up around that time as well, which comprised a pair of Sundridge rods, Silstar freespool reels and basic Optonic alarms.

“The fishing progressed to the three of us going night fishing, and it really developed from there. I was bitten by the fishing bug and it became my main hobby and passion, alongside playing rugby union. It then developed into what it is for me today. 

“Then came the mere, which I now run. That was where I really developed as a carp angler and learnt how to fish in the edge properly, how to build up hits of fish, how to bait effectively, and just develop as an angler, really. It just turned into a lifelong obsession, and I can’t ever see the day when I’ll choose to stop fishing.” 

You like catching specific carp, but your angling portfolio also includes a lot of consistent captures from the busier venues like the Foundry, Linear etc. Do you like the balance you have in your fishing?
“Over the years I’ve absolutely loved the balance I’ve had in my fishing, chasing the Caravan Park Linear, One Eye from the Ski Pit, Arnie from Manton, the Snaggy Pit rare ones, and Bundys’ A-team of commons. It was all great fun, and a massive challenge—the travelling, the other anglers, the size of the lakes, the low stock levels on some of them—and it was a period of time which I will always look back on, and smile.

“If I’m being totally honest, I feel like the balance has been off kilter a little during the last couple of years. I’ve had a fair bit going on, personally, and this has dictated the type of fishing I’ve done, to a degree. I’ve almost bumbled along with my fishing for a little while. Don’t get me wrong, I love fishing for bites and catching a few, who doesn’t? And places like the Foundry and Bundys have been awesome for catching good numbers of fish, and fish of a good average size, but if I’m being completely honest, I’m really missing that buzz I get from targeting individual carp. It’s really difficult to explain, but it grips me like no other form of angling. I think that specific desire is returning, and it won’t be long before I’m back in campaign mode. I have a few options at the moment, and I’m just trying to nail down which way to go with it next year.”

Most would presume you fish quite a lot of the time, but that’s not the case is it, given your job role?
“I have a busy full-time job in the police. I know a lot of people would disagree with me when I say that it’s busy, but as the saying goes, ‘Before you judge a man, walk a mile in his shoes.’ I love my job and I’ve done it for fast approaching 21 years now, but it places some serious constraints on my time. I get a kick out of helping people and putting the pieces of the jigsaw together. It’s a bit like big carp fishing really, having to watch for clues and work out the methods to catch what, or who you want to. 

“In essence, though, it means I get to fish on average, three forty-eight-hour sessions a month, which to some, is a hell of a lot of time on the bank, but to others, it’s nothing. It works out at around a night and a half each week over the course of a year, but I add days’ holiday and time off in lieu to my fishing, so if I feel like I need an extra night or an extra session, then I can try and engineer it. Sometimes work allows those short-notice leave days, and on other occasions it doesn’t. I’ve got a really understanding other half. She completely gets how important my angling is to me, and she appreciates the benefits it gives me, as it counteracts the stresses that work undoubtedly places upon me on a daily basis.

“The biggest thing for me, though, is that time on the bank is about choices. I haven’t got kids, which is a choice, and I’ve got a really understanding other half, bless her. She really does appreciate what my angling means to me, and she knows me well enough to understand when I think it’s on and I need to put the effort in, or when I’ll kick back and enjoy the other things in life. 

“Like I say, it’s about choices. One choice I make is to do most of my fishing midweek. Working shifts means that I get very few weekends off, and as a consequence, you very rarely find me by a lake on a Friday or Saturday night.”

What drives you to keep putting the effort in after all these years?
“The fish and the friendships, I guess. Fishing has given me some of the best mates I could have wished for. These people are genuine and down to earth, and the fact that we get the same buzz from it is what it’s all about, and the fish give me the drive to keep doing what I do. As much as I haven’t chased an out-and-out target for a couple of years, I still get a buzz from catching fish that I’ve had to think about and put a bit of effort into the capture of. 

“But the biggest thing for me, and what keeps me going, is being outdoors, amongst nature, seeing things most mornings which the majority of people will usually see only once or twice in a lifetime. What could be more inspiring than watching a kingfisher at work at dawn, or a stoat snaring a rabbit? Being amongst and at one with nature is fascinating, and combining it with chasing great big carp just can’t be beaten. Hence, almost 30 years after catching my first double, I’m probably more motivated than ever to keep catching them; and let’s be honest, what can beat the buzz of hearing that alarm screaming before you get your arm almost pulled off by what could be the fish of your dreams?”

Image

Not only do you hold down a busy job, you also run a syndicate in Lincolnshire; can you tell us more about the place?
“Ah, the mere… that glorious little lake has been part of my life since I was 10 years old. My dad responded to an advert in Carpworld, for members of a new syndicate near Grimsby. The advert was placed by a chap called Nick Elliot, who was well known as a carp angler in the ’80s and ’90s. I vividly remember meeting him at the old Little Chef at Laceby Crossroads with my dad, and us then travelling a few miles across country before driving down one of the longest and bumpiest tracks I’ve still ever been along to get to a lake at the bottom of a valley in the Lincolnshire Wolds. Back then, the lake had not long been dug, but it still had an atmosphere, much to do with Nick and his aura really, I think.

“Anyhow, Dad joined and my brother and I were also allowed to fish. Over the years my dad became more involved, and I played a part in tree planting, maintenance, lake nettings etc. as I got older. I met my lifelong best mate there as well, as he was a member. Unfortunately, JP passed away in 2016. 

“In 2014 Nick was diagnosed with cancer. Sadly it was terminal, and he asked me to take the water on. Over the years, Nick had had a massive influence on me and my fishing, so I couldn’t say no. My dad and I took over the running of it, and here we are now, 30 years down the line. I know I’m biased, but the mere is one of the most beautiful lakes I’ve fished—even if I do feel as though I always have a chainsaw, strimmer, brush cutter or lawnmower on the go whenever I’m down there! 

“My dad, sadly, also succumbed to cancer in January this year, so it’s just me looking after the place now, and as much as I love it, it’s painful to be there sometimes, given all the memories I associate with the water. I feel like I’m just acting as a guardian of the place until the right person comes along to hand it over to when the time’s right.

“Now, I run it as a 15-/16-man syndicate, with about 60 fish in 3 to 3.5-acres, up to 27 to 30lb. It has such a lovely atmosphere, and most of my members are long-term, which is refreshing in this day and age.”

What does the future hold for Jim Wilson? Are there other waters you have your sights set on, or are you happy with what’s in front of you now?
“Now there’s a question! This year I’ve taken more tickets than I really should have done. Referring back to my earlier answer about having a lot going on, personally, meant that I took a couple of tickets which ordinarily, I probably wouldn’t have done. As such, I’ve paid a lot of money out for tickets, and as yet, haven’t even set foot on the banks of the lakes with my gear! I think with four of my tickets this year, I’ve not visited the waters with my tackle, which is ultimately unsustainable. I have three or four tickets I’m really happy with. Two of these are fairly well stocked lakes with a good number of fish to go for; one is a proper low-stock, target-fish water; and the final one is a ticket I plan to use for my winter fishing. I’ll be dropping a few come renewal time, therefore, and I’m pretty sure I know which ones I’ll be keeping, and why. Ultimately, I’m still missing a target to fish for which will really make me go through the gears and get me almost obsessed with catching it. I’ve had a few conversations with my good mate Dan Wildbore recently about this very subject, and I think we’ve come up with an answer that somewhere, will really tick all the boxes for me again, but that’s for another day.

“So in short, I’m really happy with a few of the tickets I have, and will be dropping a couple. Also, for the first time in a good while, the majority of my fishing will be done within an hour’s drive of home and work, which after a decade or so of travelling is an absolute godsend!”

You’ve managed to catch some very impressive fish over the years, and you have had access to some truly special carp in several different regions. What stands out as a pivotal capture, and can you talk us through how you brought about the fish’s downfall?
“I’ve been asked a similar question a few times in recent years, and I always go back to the same two captures, those being the first target fish I fished for, back in the very late ’90s, and the Caravan Park Linear 10 years or so after. I think the most pivotal was that first target-fish capture, in May 2000, as it was my first 30lb-plus fish as well. It was a fish called Arfur, and it lived in a lake called Thompsons—also known as the Fabled Pool—in East Yorkshire. My best mate, JP, had helped sort me the ticket as he was a member, God rest his soul. Dave Laws, who ran the lake at the time, then kindly let me have a ticket. The lake was 10 to 12 acres, from memory, and it was split into two by a narrow, reed-filled channel which separated the two very different halves. There wasn’t a massive stock of fish, and the two jewels in the crown were the two biggest mirrors in the lake, the Red ’Un and Arfur.

“In reality, I started my campaign on there far too early, but I was 18 or 19 and super keen. Being situated in East Yorkshire, the water wasn’t a million miles from the coast, and starting in early March meant that the easterly winds were bloody freezing! Looking back, I don’t think I saw a fish, let alone had a chance of catching one throughout most of March and the first half of April. I had, though, done plenty of work with the marker rod, and had walked so many laps of the lake that I had a few areas in mind for when the weather did eventually improve, and when the fish finally became visible.

“The lake was set in farmland, and cattle were regularly kept on the far bank. As a result, you could walk round the whole lake and stalk from the far bank, but you couldn’t set up and fish from there. It was in the narrow, reedy channel where I first saw signs of fish, and I caught my first from the lake from that area, a stocky from a swim called New Coot Corner.

“It was late April when I started finding them on most trips, and that spring, they definitely had a preference for what we called Lake 2, at the far end of the pit, the section beyond the reedy channel. And during the first few days of May, I witnessed something which changed my outlook on fishing, really. I was round the far side with just my polarised glasses and some bait, almost opposite a swim called Wigan Pier. I was crouched down with the high bank behind me, watching a sandy area just beyond some overhanging vegetation. As I watched, I saw a mirror drift in. It was the biggest fish I’d ever seen in the water at that point, and I thought that it must have been Arfur. I couldn’t see the distinctive tail, though, despite the water being relatively shallow and crystal clear. At this point, Arfur drifted in, and its size was like nothing I’d seen before. I could see the top lobe of the fish’s tail from which its name was obviously derived. It was incredible to watch the fish as it drifted over the sandy area, occasionally dropping onto the same zone, clouding up the water as it fed, filtering the particles and ejecting waste matter through its gills. 

“Once it was safe to do so, I baited with what I had left, and watched as the one I really wanted would drop, take a mouthful, and then head away from the area, before it returned a few minutes later to do the same. The biggest thing I noticed, though, was how little it dropped to feed on the 12mm bait I had fed, which led me to fish the rigs I did, on my return just a few days later.

“I fished well balanced pop-ups on braided Swimmer Rigs, which back then were in fashion. Almost like clockwork, I got the rods out, and just before first light the following morning, my first target fish,—and my first thirty—was in the net. 

“The capture was pivotal because it made me appreciate and believe that I could catch the ones I wanted from the harder lakes. That fish made me realise that I could target individual carp, and if I was willing to put the effort in, I could make it happen.”

Image

We can’t not mention a certain Snaggy Pit, as many have labelled it. Over the years and through numerous videos, especially those from Sticky baits, the uniqueness and the wild nature of the pit have drawn many anglers into wanting to catch those special mirrors. How did it appear on your radar?
“Basically, I fished the complex in 1999/2000, after catching Arfur from Thompsons and doing a bit on Selby 3 Lakes. I was fishing down there with a lad whose now one of my best mates, Neil White. As a member you got to see a bit of the owners, but the complex closed that year, for a number of reasons. Anyway, fast forward a few years, and through work I got the opportunity to fish the complex. Despite having access, though, I didn’t really fish it much until after I’d caught the Caravan Park Linear and had done a bit at Bundys. Initially, I fished the lake we refer to as the Ski Pit, and I caught well, to be fair. The Snaggy Pit, however, always intrigued me as I drove past on my way to the Ski Pit.

“A few of us had access, and some of the regulars kept telling me stories about the carp they were catching from the Snaggy Pit, and being totally blunt, I wasn’t convinced. That was until one day, an old boy—I feel bad, but I can’t remember his name—showed me some pictures of the fish he had been catching during the previous couple of years. That’s when my intrigue really began to take hold. I fished the lake on and off for a couple of years and caught some incredible carp.

“I took my good mates Lewis Porter and Lee Walton on guest sessions, and we realised that the lake was something really special. In 2016 I gave it a proper go. I had an idea about some of the stock, and whilst a fair percentage were not unknowns, they were fish which were very rarely caught. That year, I banked some incredible fish, including one of 48lb, and for that carp in particular, we could find no records. In fact, I think it went nearly 10 years between captures. 

“The Snaggy Pit really gripped me that year, and I was there as often as work and family life would allow. It’s the single most intense lake I’ve ever fished, due to the nature of the snags, and the bites… they are electric, and the most savage takes I’ve ever experienced. As a result, sleep is really hard to come by, and the effort required to fish the water is immense. When you think about the boat work, the laps you do looking for fish, and the lack of sleep… I used to get home after a 48hr trip, absolutely broken! But it was some of the most enjoyable fishing I’ve experienced thus far.

“The following year, the owners asked me to manage the fishing on there, and the rest is history, as they say.”

Approaching the end of the year, with the world relatively open once again after a number of lockdowns, what effect do you think the pandemic has had on angling in general?
“I think it’s had a massively positive impact on angling in general. The number of people who have come back into the sport, and the number of newcomers as well, can only be a positive, going forward. However, it has all made the banks much busier, which in turn has meant that the carp are under more pressure than ever. I think that is something we all have to be conscious of. Ultimately, they thrive on neglect, and not having to change their habits because of general angling pressure.

“In essence, I think the pandemic has been a good thing for the sport. It just means that chasing the solitude I love has got that little bit harder, but that’s all part of the challenge, isn’t it?”

What’s life like as a sponsored angler? Is it all glitz and glam as many might think? Or does it actually put pressure on you at times to pull it out of the bag, with demand for media coverage being at an all-time high?
“Ha ha. People think that being a sponsored angler is like living the dream, and don’t get me wrong, I feel extremely privileged to be in the position I am and get the support I do from two massive companies in Sticky Baits and Fox. I absolutely love being involved in the industry to the level I am. As the question hints towards, though, it does put massive pressure on you at certain times, to pull that rabbit out of the hat and produce the goods. 

“Take filming an episode of Reflections, for example. Three camera crew for three days is a big expense to the company, and as much as I’m still fishing, I’m not in full flight. I’m sure you’ve heard the phrase ‘fishing with the handbrake on’, and it is like that, at times. You have to be very aware of the cameras, and of the content the crew needs to make the films, so much so that it can stop you doing what you do naturally, in certain circumstances. I don’t think people grasp how draining the shoots are if you’re putting 100 per cent effort into them.

“The ability to help others, though, is massive. It’s ace receiving a message via social media from someone saying how much something they’ve seen you do has turned a session round for them, or helped them catch a target, or even a PB.

“As in all walks of life, though, when you put yourself out there to try and help people, there are always those who will want to take pot shots at you because they disagree with you, or because they have a different view of things. That’s fine, but the trolling can be distracting on occasion, and people who think they are automatically entitled to something can try and damage your reputation because they haven’t got their own way. Things like that can be difficult to deal with, but through work I’ve developed quite a thick skin, and thankfully, even in today’s social media-driven life, the good points of being in the trade far outweigh the bad.”

Signup to Carpology