Once the angling bug had bitten me as a youngster, my Dad soon had me enrolled as a member in the Workington British Steel’s Angling Club. The local steelworks was at the ‘front and centre’ of the local community as an employer, recreationally and socially. The steelworks wages fuelled the local and wider economy. It also had a number of thriving sports sections and a hugely popular social club. The workers and others would regularly partake in various team sports. Competing in the local leagues, playing amongst others rugby, football, hockey, cricket, squash and of course angling. The plants own social club for its workers ‘The Ranch’ was just off Mossbay Road complete with its own array of sports pitches and next to them the angling clubs Mossbay Pond. The Workington community revolved around the steelworks!

Mossbay Pond was where I first started my coarse fishing. Already a mad keen sea angler I started fishing the pond with my 7 foot fibreglass spinning rod. Most of the adult anglers had 12 foot match rods, ‘Garcia Mitchell Match’ reels and were sat on the reasonable comfort of their wicker fishing baskets. I could not afford anything like that equipment until I started work aged 16 as an apprentice fitter/turner at Sellafield nuclear plant. The pond had a good head of fish, roach, bream, tench, perch, gudgeon and some big carp. I fished the summer weekly Wednesday matches 6-9pm until the dark nights cut in. I remember buying maggots from Andy Ainsworth who lived at Westfield close to the pond. Andy was an excellent angler and a lovely friendly man, who fished in the club for many years. He always had time for youngsters on the bank. He would offer advice, how to set your float at the right depth, how to hook a maggot correctly, amongst other help.

I would spend hours sat on the bank of the pond, rod laid on two rod rests, tip just just under the waters surface so as to sink the line, just as Andy had shown me. Waiting for the float to bob and disappear signalling a biting fish or as on one occasion turning round to see my rod being pulled into the water. I just managed to catch hold of the cork handle before it disappeared under the surface. Lifting the rod I could feel this strong pulling and see the taught line cutting through the water as a fish made off. Rod bent double I managed to wind the fish in and was amazed to see this beautiful olive brown fish with piercing orange coloured eyes sliding across the waters surface towards the bank. It was the first time I had seen a tench let alone catch one! About 2lbs in weight I unhooked this stocky thick set fish and returned it to the water. I never ever caught another tench on the pond and had to wait years to catch another on a different water.

The sea section of the steelworks club was very strong with a good membership of very keen competent anglers. The club was well run and not only having a regular yearly calendar of matches it also run some away coach trips. One of those trips was to the annual ‘Whitehorse Whisky Open’ competition at Ardrossan in Ayrshire, Scotland. At the competitions peak there were over 2000 anglers competing from all over the UK. It was the first open competition I had ever entered. I remember fishing at Wemyss Bay and catching this big flounder. At the weigh-in it tipped the scales at 2lbs 2oz and I finished in 2nd place for the heaviest flatfish collecting the huge amount of 20 pounds! I had never seen that much money and I was thrilled to bits. I think there was a bottle of Whitehorse Whisky with it as well, but being only 13-14 years old I was not awarded it! The other thing I remember about the competition was the first prize, which was a fishing boat. I had never seen such prizes! I remember using the money to buy a paraffin ‘Tilly Lamp’ from “Mark Taylors” shop in Workington with my winnings. This was my prized possession not only giving light in all weathers when fishing and digging bait, but if you put a stone on the black hood top, it heated up making a nice hand warmer on cold nights.

Another coach trip the club ran a couple of years later was to the ‘Rhu Narrows’, Gare Loch, Scotland. The ‘Rhu Narrows was a prolific venue for good bags of quality sized cod. Someone didn’t tell the cod that day! It was a hugely disappointing days fishing with very little caught! Gary Ryecroft and myself had decided we would have a short fishing holiday and planned prior to going that we would get dropped off in Largs on the way back and spend a few days fishing and camping in the area. The coach driver obligingly dropped us off in Largs town centre and loaded up with our rucksacks, tent and fishing gear we walked out of town to the campsite. On the way out we asked a local man about the fishing and he recommended fishing for the conger eels off the Isle of Cumbrae, a short ferry ride from the harbour. He did say we would need a gaff to land the large eels. Not having a gaff with us we asked around but could not source one, so we set off for the campsite enthused about catching conger eels regardless.

The next morning we got up and packed our fishing gear ready for the days fishing. We had decided to catch the ferry later that morning onto the island of Great Cumbrae just off the Largs coastline as recommended. We were going to fish off the rocks through the late afternoon and night, returning on the ferry the following morning.

The next day the weather was amazingly good, sunny and extremely warm. A man camping with his family next to us, kindly offered a lift in his car down to the harbour side. He would shortly regret his offer! He opened the car boot and told us to pack our fishing gear into the boot, which we duly did. Including a bucket of peeler crab from the previous day. Bearing in mind that this was the days before cool boxes and ice packs, so this crab had not been kept cool for more than 24 hours and was rather pungent to say the least! We were going to put our rods inside the car, so we closed the boot lid whilst the man rounded up his family for their trip out. The man packed his family and ourselves in the car and quickly realised he could not find the car keys! After a short process of elimination he remembered he had put them in the car boot after opening it for us. He spritely jumped out the drivers seat and moved around to the boot only to find it locked! The boot had somehow locked itself when we closed it. Having no spare keys the man was not best pleased and I know I felt embarrassed and no doubt Gary was as well.

Everyone had to get out of the car and the man stripped the rear seat cushion out of the car to try to reach into the boot between the chassis metal struts. The man was not happy to say the least! The unbearable heat inside the car and the mans frustration in being just out of reach of the keys, combined worse still with the nauseating smell of the rotting crab wafting into the car. Retching and dripping with sweat the man aimed some choice language at Gary and myself, “what the f—K have you put in the boot”. Not best pleased with us and soaked with sweat he said without the edited expletives: “see if you can reach the keys”. Being about only 5 stone wet through I squeezed my head and body through the struts and feeling about I managed to put my hand on the keys and retrieve them. I must say he did have a point about the smell it was terrible! Car put together, family and us loaded up, minus the crab we had a frosty short trip down to the harbour side. We thanked the man and his wife and slightly embarrassed we walked towards the ferry terminus.

We caught the ferry to Cumbrae and walked around the road to the shoreline looking for a good rock ledge to fish from. Successfully finding a ledge approximately 6 feet above the water we set up camp and expectantly cast our baits out in anticipation. During the daylight we were catching small immature codling and whiting. We decided to keep some of them as bait later for the conger. I remember it being a warm pleasant evening and as it got dark we cast some conger baits out into the rocks close in to the ledge. We were not to be disappointed, as we hooked a number of conger some of them quite large ones probably up to 20lbs in weight. We managed to reel them into the foot of the ledge after a great struggle, but these powerhouses of muscle just spun in the water and refused to be lifted the 6 feet out of the water onto the ledge. Without a gaff, as the man had told us we had no chance of landing them. Eventually they snapped our snood line and went back to their rocky lairs non the worse for their experience. Gary and myself were disappointed in not landing one, but at the same time we had been pleased to catch and see them. I am so glad now that we did not have a gaff, as I would have massively regretted injuring these amazing eels.

The British Steel Sea Angling Club continued in existence 9 years after the steelworks closed until 1991 when most of the members left to form Harrington SAC.