I always wondered "how on earth do anglers fall in" well that was until it happened to me, it had been very windy with torrential rain and I had pegged out my bivvy using the guy ropes, one of which was attached to a storm pole which due to the lack of bankside space was placed in the lake.
The rain just got worse and worse and with no fish after 48hrs I started to pack away loaded to the hilt rucksack on my back, I made a dash for my car forgetting the guy ropes completely ( splash )
It was february and at first I did not realise that I was actualy in the lake, then after I realised it was time to get to the surface looking up I could see daylight, struggling to get there I grabbed for some reeds and got a foot hold and managed to pull myself up though not completely as the rucksack was filling with water and was pulling me under, as fast as I could I undid the rucksack and threw it onto the walkway.
I then managed to pull myself up onto the walkway, standing there I saw my camera bag floating in the middle of the lake and had to dive in to retreive it.
Right you have had your laugh at my expense, let's hear about your mishaps. ;D
I was in France once staying with some french friends and it was arranged that I would go and fish a small lake that was not normally open to the public. This was in March or April so it was not the warmest of days, in fact there was a bitter wind blowing but undaunted I got Bruno out of bed and we set off for the lake. The arrangemnent was that he would leave me there and come back in the afternoon for me. On arrival I set up and waited after about an hour or so nothing was happening so I decided to walk around the lake to see if there was a better swim. Despite the cold I could see a couple of largish fish moving around on the other side of the lake. The lake was fed by a small stream and there was an old wooden bridge over it. I stood on this bridge and watched these fish and decided to move down to that end of the lake. Suddenly CRACK!! the bloody thing collapsed under me and I was plunged into the muddy water up to my chest . Blow, Dash, Bother, I thought as I slowly dragged myself out of the water, middle of nowhere, soaking wet, no shelter and about 5 or 6 hours before my lift home arrived. . Fortunatly for some reason I had left my cigarretes and lighter in my tackle box so I was able to light a fire to try and dry and warm myself, ( they dont worry about things like camp fires in deepest France). Then, deep joy and much happiness it started raining, not ordinary rain but driving bloody stairods of rain. . I did move to the other end of the lake and sat in front of my camp fire all day but didnt catch anything I returned to this lake later in the year and had three nice carp of about 12lbds each also some of the trout that also get in there from the stream that feeds it. I still shiver and feel cold just thinking back on that incident but I suppose like Camo's falling in incident we should count our blessings that it was not worse as we could both have so easily drowned.