Chapter 11

Mark Gucci
After the Castle Lake syndicate was formed I was continually
getting phone calls and letters about membership. I did not want
more than four anglers fishing at one time and with this in mind
I set the limit on membership to forty. Very few people ever
dropped out and so consequently there were rarely vacancies.
When there was a vacancy I had a list of prospects a mile long
so filling the empty space was never an issue. I was offered
many large amounts and deals from people trying to gain
membership, one offering to pay the yearly fee I paid to the
owner if I gave him a spot. Occasionally I received a letter or a
telephone call that made me wish I could have taken on more
members but to me the size of the lake made four anglers about
right. We did stretch this as time went on but introduced other
rules to make that work. A few years into the syndicate and I
received a call from a really nice guy from London requesting
membership. I explained that I was full and the waiting list long.
He accepted my answer and explained he had just got over a
really bad accident, nearly losing his leg, and was just trying to
relax and get his head right. Having had a really bad motorcycle
accident myself something tugged at my heart strings and I felt
connected to this guy. I offered him day tickets as long as I was
fishing there and he was over the moon.
By now the lake was mysteriously losing water. We provided the
diesel for the pump to keep it topped up and this was expensive.
I would allow day tickets which our Bailiff Martin supervised, but
members had priority. The money received went in some way to
pay for the diesel and the lord provided some on occasions.
I arranged to fish a weekend and told him he could stay for both
days if he wished. He arrived and I showed him around the lake
and grounds, which he loved instantly. I picked a nice double
swim so I could fish beside him on his first visit. I tried to do this
with all new members if they were an unknown quantity to
ensure myself they were not idiots. I was not going to lose the
lake through the actions of others. Mark went back to his car and
came back with his tackle. This in main consisted of some bits
and pieces in a plastic bag and a plastic sheet. When I asked
him what the sheet was for he explained it was to sleep on.

It is always wrong to make instant impressions as they are

normally totally wrong. I imagined that Marks equipment was
due to a lack of finances.
In fact it was just because he had not fished for years, a fact I
was later to feel embarrassed about.
I told him he could squeeze in the Bivvy with me and Ann but he
insisted it would not be necessary. We set up his rod and I gave
him anything he did not have. He was amazed at the alarms and
bobbins as he had never seen or used equipment like this in the
past. He was only dressed in a T shirt and as the night drew in I
could see he was shivering. I always carried spare clothing in the
Betsy so sorted him out a jumper and jacket. He had brought
some sandwiches with him that he explained his grandmother
had made, Mark apparently lived with her and not his parents.
He made us promise not to laugh as he explained she always
introduced him as nannies little soldier. Those sandwiches
were his food reserves for two days so I invited him to eat with
us for the session as I would be cooking anyway and he
accepted. That evening I set up the Bar B Q and we all enjoyed a
nice hot meal. Some of my fondest memories of that lake were
the early summer mornings, with mist rising of the still surface
of the lake as the sun slowly rose over the trees. This view and
the smell and sound of Bacon cooking on an open fire mingled
with fresh percolated coffee, unbelievable. If there is a heaven, I
want it to be like this.

We fished the weekend and Mark packed up and we all strolled

back to the car park. Mark insisted on paying me for the food he
had eaten and took out his wallet. Opening it I saw what looked
like the national wealth of a small African country. He took out
this wad and peeled off some notes handing them to me. With
his cockney accent and handful of notes I immediately thought
of Harry Enfield and his character Loadsamoney That night Mark
telephoned me and thanked me for the session and asked me to
do him a favour. Could I buy everything he would need for him,
as I was more into the fishing scene. I explained he was talking
about quite a large outlay but would put a list together and
submit it for his approval. I did not price expensive equipment
but chose makes and models that would work until he decided
he really liked fishing. At that stage he could gradually replace
what I had bought with items he wanted. It was a lot of money
by the time I finished the list but included everything you would
need to start and fish sessions. I telephoned Mark and he agreed
sending me a cheque which arrived within days. Now curious but
not wanting to seem nosey I joked with him asking if I could
come with him and his gang, on their next bank robbery. He
laughed and explained that he worked in photography and

advertising for large companies. How wrong I had been in my

first impression of him. Once all his purchases had arrived we
agreed to meet at the Lake for a weekend session.
I was working the Friday night so I could not get there until early
Saturday morning. Also he would be travelling down on the
Friday night and would sleep in his car and wait for me to arrive
in the car park. I got to the car park at about 5am and saw
Marks steamed up car. I could not resist it creeping up to the
car I shook it violently screaming like an animal. I heard a louder
scream and a pretty girls face appeared, looking totally shocked
and hysterical at the window. I tried to calm her but she was just
getting more agitated. Mark eventually came running out of the
gate to this scene of turmoil. He calmed her down and I
explained about how I had started all this by shaking his car.
Mark explained this was a model he had just done a publicity
shoot with. He mentioned where he was going for the weekend
and invited her along. As he had woken up really early he left
her asleep in the car and took a walk around the lake. She got
out of the car and it looked like she was going out to a night
club. She was a stunning blonde in full war paint, dressed in a
yellow satin jump suit with matching high heels. I asked if she
had brought any other clothes with her and she said Mark asked
her to dress casual and these were her casual clothes.
The paths around the lake were just earth and although it was
summer they were always soft so I was not surprised how her
high heels stuck in the ground as she tried to walk. Mark did no
more than to throw her over his shoulder carrying her to the
lake, which I found hilarious. We unloaded all of Marks new gear
and I spent some time helping him unpack it all and set it up.
Ann and I set up opposite him on across the lake and started to
fish. We both were catching fish and it seemed even his toy
was enjoying the experience. Sometime during the day Mark got
a fish tangled in a patch of water lilies. He shouted to me, asking
if it was ok for him to get into the lake and free it. I told him that
would be fine and he stripped down to his underpants which I
thought was a bit drastic. Personally if it happened to me I just
waded in normally not even getting water over the tops of my
wellies. Standing at the edge of the bank he proceeded to go
through some bending and stretching as a diver would before
entering the water. I thought he was just flexing his muscles for
the benefit of his toy. Knowing it was only about 2ft deep

water over about the same depth of mud in front of him, Ann
and I looked on in horror as he was obviously going to dive in,
not just wade out. Not wanting to see him head dive into a pile
of stinking mud in front of this pretty young lady, I did....
nothing. He made a perfect dive and for a few seconds
remained upright stuck in the mud before toppling over with a
huge splash. He stood up, water just above his knees , covered
in silt and leaves. We all burst out laughing and l when we met
he would always ask if I remembered that day. I wandered
around the lake to his swim to make sure he was ok and to get
some photos to blackmail him later on in life.
Mark and I fished sessions on other lakes and I was desperate to
help him catch a large Carp. He joined our local club water and
we had some sessions there where he acquired the nickname
Gucci.
I mentioned previously
to this that I did like to
fish in comfort but Mark
took this to a new level.
It was our first long
session on the club
water together and we
set up as it was getting
dark. It was a warm
night so as was usual
with me weather
permitting I slept
outside the Bivvy on my
bed chair. Early morning
came and as it got light
I heard Mark moving
around inside his Bivvy.
I wandered over and the
first new item I noticed
was a mat outside the
entrance to his Bivvy.
On this mat was a pair
of bedroom slippers
with animal heads as
decoration, I think they
were bears but I could

be wrong. Looking inside his Bivvy I noticed it also had been

fitted with a carpet. Mark emerged from his Bivvy dressed in a
maroon silk dressing gown with a large oriental motif across the
back. He was carrying a rolled up towel under his arm which had
his initials embroidered in one corner. He wandered to the
waters edge where he had already placed a large sheet of
rubber underlay to kneel on, knelt down and unrolled his towel
which I now inspected curiously. Razor, shaving foam, cotton
buds, dental floss, electric tooth brush, you name it, he had it.
He took off the dressing gown and started to wash looking up at
me and winking.
I think it was that cocky wink that did it and before I could stop
myself I had persuaded him to get into the lake by using my
foot. He disappeared completely but I could see his shape under
the surface. As he broke the surface coughing out water and
leaves it looked so funny I thought I must get a photo of this. I
called for Ann to bring the camera and pushed his head under
with my foot to get the shot.

From that day on Mark has been known by me and our friends as
Gucci. Mark used my bait as I had been very successful with it
but still had not caught a large Carp. During one of the days he
had a screaming run and I raced over to his swim to help. The

fish was really bending his rod and it was not until I saw its tail I
realised it was a large Tench and not a Carp. Of course Mark had
no idea from the tail what he had on the end of the line. Seeing
this I convinced him it was a huge Carp and he was shaking and
praying not to lose it. For some unknown reason every prank I
played on Mark ended up with him in the lake. Eventually the
fish got into a lily patch some 20 yards from the bank. I told
Mark it seemed a shame to lose this fish so close to the bank
and Mark assured me he was not losing this one. By now a small
crowd had gathered and Mark told them about the huge tail and
thought this was at least a 20lb fish. Of course I did nothing but
pour oil on the flames. Mark stripped of and swam out with a
net, freed the fish and returned with it in the net. Everyone
gathered around to see the Monster... a very large but
embarrassing Tench. Mark did not care as in the end it was a
spectacular looking fish and is still the heaviest Tench he has
ever caught.

The funniest memory I have of Mark involves a dreaded

Mosquito. Like Ann Mark hated them and his Bivvy was full of
everything you can imagine to keep them out. He had smoke
burners, sprays and body oils designed to deter them.
This particular morning he had his usual bath in the lake and
started to dry off, suddenly he was dancing around cursing and
screaming. Thinking he had hurt himself Ann and I rushed over
to see what the problem was. Embarrassed he whispered in my
ear that a Mosquito had bitten him right on the end of his bell
end and it was itching like crazy. He asked what he should do
and I explained with snake bites you had to suck the poison out
and I hoped he would not strain his neck. Ann was now crying
hysterically as I added perhaps he should go to the local doctor.
Maybe he could do something for the itching but still leave the
swelling. For days we watched as Mark twitched and crossed his
legs, it must have been agony. Mark and I drifted apart as Ann
and I moved around on our travels but like so many others he
left me with irreplaceable memories.