The Broads as a Sporting Centre.
To the greater bulk of the thousands who visit the Broads season after season the great water-ways of Norfolk and Suffolk are an attractive summer holiday resort—that and that only. The all-round excellence and great variety of sport obtainable throughout the year is known only to a comparatively small number, and is indulged in by but few even of those. Probably summer sailing will remain the principal pastime—it is possibly the most enjoyable—on these waters for all time. And with good reason. Granted some knowledge of sailing craft and decent care in navigation, absolute safety is assured for even the smallest craft. The numerous regattas offer opportunities for the more skilful to prove their skill in friendly competition before admiring associates. Scores of miles of rivers and acres upon acres of broads are open to all—expert and novice alike. Equally enjoyable, in the opinion of many, is a holiday spent on a wherry, and not a few parties “swear by” the keen pleasure associated with a holiday under canvas, “camping out.” Inseparable from all is angling. And what a variety of anglers one meets with on the Broads! They fish from wherries, from yachts, from boats, from the bank, and, indeed, from any and every point of vantage. They use all sorts of tackling, from the boy’s polished ash-wood rod and ready furnished line—evidently purchased merely for the holiday and the fun of the thing—to the perfectly tapered roach pole and line of gossamer fineness, greatly prized tackling handled by an expert, who means fishing in all seriousness. Not infrequently a young couple, “pegged down” in very close proximity and evidently preoccupied with some other matter nearer and dearer than angling, allow the rod at their feet to angle for itself—which is, perhaps, the very best thing they can do if they really wish to catch fish.
CASTING A NET FOR SMALL LINE BAIT.
Photo by Clarke and Hyde.]
The artist, the botanist, and entomologist are numbered among the holiday seekers; and the indolent individual, “come to do nothing but lazy around,” is also in evidence, of course. All alike are happy as the days come and go and the summer wears on. Not the least enjoyable time is the late evening, when the wherries and yachts are moored for the night and the canvas camps are lit up. The solemn quietude of Broadland reigns on all sides, and than Broadland at night, can anything be more quiet, more peaceful, more soothing? The distant barking of a dog, the sound of song or music floating on the air from some craft, the splash of oars as a belated boating party passes by on the smooth surface of the stream, the flop! of a big bream “priming”—all these only go to accentuate the actual and wonderful quiet. So quiet is it, indeed, that as our ardent angler, out fishing for the night, lights his pipe, the scratch of the match on the box may be heard for some considerable distance. Thus the summer wears away; the end of the holiday comes all too soon, and the Broads lie neglected—or nearly so.
Yet the opportunities for sport after the holiday folk have departed and before they return are many. Those sportsmen are not wanting who will tell you that they prefer the room of the holiday seekers to their company, and that “sport on the Broads has gone to the deuce since the advent of hordes of cheap trippers and big boys with boats.” This is, however, too severe an estimate of the character of those who frequent the Broads during the summer. Other and probably more sound reasons could be given for the falling off in sport of late years; although it must be acknowledged that the presence of large crowds through the summer must have a more or less bad effect on sport all the year round. That sport on the Broads has declined is, unfortunately, beyond doubt. Granted this, however, there still remains satisfying sport available if only the sportsman will adapt his methods to the altered condition of affairs.
A BROADLAND SPORTSMAN WITH HIS PUNT AND DOG.
Photo by Clarke & Hyde.]
Take, for instance, the rudd-fishing. The bags of these fish are considerably smaller now than they were ten, aye, even five years ago. It is quite possible that the crowds of summer holiday folk are partly responsible for this falling off; but is it not also probable that the gradual filling up of some parts of the Broads, mostly those parts where rudd do love to congregate, is by far the more important cause? Where the angler used to find the rudd in, say, two feet of water, there is now but a foot—in many cases barely that—yet the fish are still there. It is rather amusing than otherwise to watch the holiday folk going for these wary fish in such shallow water with the orthodox tackle of years gone by, i.e., a fine running line, float and shotted bottom; it is surprising to see a sportsman doing the same thing. Now, the rudd is essentially a summer-feeding fish, and what is more he is, when shoaling, a surface-feeding fish; therefore, even while the summer holiday folk are present, get you an eleven-foot fly rod, attach to the end of your taper line a two-yard fine taper gut cast, armed at the end with a fairly large crystal-bend hook; fill the hook with well-scoured gentles (half-a-dozen is not too many), and casting as you would with a fly, put this bait among the rudd that are shoaling in the shallow water, and see what will happen! The lid of your creel will constantly creak a welcome to a lusty specimen, and you will return to quarters with a heavy bag and a light heart, while the man with the float and shots will most probably return with a light bag, swearing at the decadence of sport on the Broads, and cursing the “cheap-tripper” as the cause of his non-success. So, too, with the bream-fishing. The day has gone by when you could pitch anywhere and make sure of a big bag of bream. This, also, is a summer-feeding fish, principally. Yet you have only to go about your work in a methodical and common-sense manner to command, at any rate, a respectable bag. Even while the crowd is in full evidence, look you for a quiet nook with a decent depth of water. You should have no difficulty in finding one; and having found it, nurse it even as a Thames or a Lea or a Trent angler nurses his swim. Bait it carefully, fish it as carefully with decent tackling, and success shall be yours clean in front of the man who, following the orthodox methods, follows also the “milky way” over the broad waters that are now continually disturbed by passing craft of all descriptions.
The best of the pike-fishing is to be had during the winter months, when the greater bulk of the weeds and rushes are rotted, and a keen frost is in the air. If you do not care to face the cold winds that sweep over Broadland at this time of year, then you must rest content with the comparatively indifferent sport with these fish obtainable in more genial weather conditions. But if you do not mind the cold, give the Broads a trial for pike during December, January or February. Certainly you will not be troubled with a crowd through the winter months! You will, as a matter of fact, have miles of river and acres of broad water to yourself. You can spin, paternoster or live-bait to your heart’s content, and you will catch fish that will handsomely reward you. No one who has only killed pike in Broadland during the late summer and early autumn months would credit the enormous increase in fighting power one’s quarry develops during the winter. The most successful tackling in the rivers is the paternoster, and for that matter it is the best on the Broads also. But spinning may be resorted to in the latter waters, and where a big fish is known to lie a live bait on snap tackle will most probably tempt him. You can catch your own baits from the rivers, but it is best to make sure of a supply from some fishing tackle dealer.
The ruthless destruction in the past of rare birds (and, by-the-by, the so-called “cheap-tripper” was not responsible for the unsportsmanlike slaughter) has rendered it necessary to protect many of them against utter extinction. The best of the wildfowling is strictly preserved. There is, however, some very good wildfowling to be had still from November until February. Here, again, the sportsman must not expect the bags obtainable years ago, but with careful stalking he should do fairly well. Some decent flight-shooting is also available. The three things absolutely necessary to success are, a handy punt, a hard-hitting gun, and a well-trained dog. The latter is the most important of all.