Wednesday, 19 May 2010

Fishermen

Now, those that know me will know that I am the daughter of a notoriously bad fisherman, not bad as in no good at catching things but bad as in one of those that had a women in every port and has more children than fingers and toes ~ I kid you not, but that is another story, and I'd better not get into that one right now or this post will end up as a harrowing novel!

Fishermen.  What does that word conjure up for you?  Quiet, introverted, peaceful chaps, at one with the earth and water, pursuing a relaxing hobby? Perhaps if we were moored somewhere up in the Pennine's that would be the case, but central London?  Let's see, noisy, rowdy, always up for a fight, often throwing each other in the canal, complete alcoholics, very friendly mind and mostly useless at catching anything except blue bags and the odd scooter.  Perhaps I'm over-generalising and it's not really like that at all, in fact maybe it's the drunks that go to the local church's AA group and then gather for a can or ten on the canal that join the fishermen and give them a bad name!  Yes I think that is it.  There are some very pleasant fishermen that come and sit opposite the boats, all day, catching very little, but peacefully passing the time away.  Polite and civilised conversation comes from their mouths, if anything at all.  It doesn't take much though for them to get involved with the local drunks, and it's not exactly like they can walk away, they're all set up for a day's fishing, with their chairs, rods, nets and gubbins.

I don't think that I'm complaining here, I'm just painting the picture.  We don't have a television on board, and really there is no need, for when they get going, the conversation and activity is quite enthralling and entertaining ~ often x-rated!

Here's a sneaky picture of a group of them, some of them are new faces, some are regulars. It's a relatively sober picture...


One chap lost his leg last year and now has a prosthetic one.  When he first lost his leg, before the replacement part came, he had a motorised wheelchair which was very handy for him to pop up to the local off licence in for more beer.  He's definitely one of the louder characters, but also a fisherman.  See, it's wrong to put people in pigeon holes.  (Most definitely, too small for starters).  The couple on the left are not fisher folks, they are without doubt drinkers, the women can get really lary and scary with it! I'm relieved I'm on this side when a woman kicks off after one too many...

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