news/editorial

28 June 2015 News/Editorial

By popular demand, Sir Tim Dalziel-Farquhar returns after a long absence, this time staying with his old friend Lord Percy-Topham (“Topper”), resident of Topham Towers, the ancient country seat of the Percy-Tophams, situated between Carham and Wark on the south (English) side of the River Tweed.

THE SCENE: The breakfast table at Topham Towers, approx 8.30am on a bright, if cool, late June morning.

THE CHARACTERS: Sir Tim D-F, Lord P-T (Topper), Lady P-T (Madge), Edith the cook, Struther the head boatman, and Bollocks the black labrador.

“Mornin’, Tim, sleep well?”

“Mornin’, Topper old friend, like a log, mid season form, sun’s shining, God’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world….never better”

“Fried egg and coffee?”

“Steady, Topper old man, coffee yes please, but no fried egg...can’t stand the way they look at you in the morning, the scrambled variety would be good”

“I’ll see how Edith is feeling...a bit bolshy recently, knows we were thinking of sacking her but Madge wouldn’t have it….Edith blames me, so a bit non speaks pro tem”

“Don’t worry, Topper, porridge, toast and coffee will hit the spot, leave Edith be, sleeping dogs and all that, eh?”

“Better eat up, Tim, Struther will be here at 9.30 to kit you out, scoop you up and take you down to the river”

“Any fish about, Topper?”

“One or two, typical spring, nothing great, far too many of those bloody seals early on; while you are out there beating the water into a foam, I shall be at my desk writing an enormous cheque to the Tweed Commissioners, don’t mind too much, good cause….can’t ever imagine writing that cheque to the Scottish Government as that Fisheries Review bloke proposes….I don’t live in Scotland, don’t have a vote there, none of my fishing is in Scotland….what can he be thinking?

“Take them on if they try it, Topper?”

“Will do, I will do anything to protect this river from what the Report means for the Tweed, nothing in it will put one extra fish in the river, they just seem to want to control us, tell us what to do, pure dogma nothing else, they know nothing about these rivers, we do …. down Bollocks, you disobedient hound!”

“Speaking of Bollocks, reminds me of the one about the man who lost his dog, was looking miserable and a friend said “Why not advertise for him in the paper?” “It wouldn’t do any good” said the man ”He can’t read”

“Not your best one, Tim…. down Bollocks, you hound from hell”

“Here’s a better one, Topper old man, a woman owns a little pet Chihuahua whose hair was falling out. She went to the chemist and bought some ointment to encourage hair growth. The chemist said “Rub it into your head for 2 days and after that leave it, but don’t wear a hat, no friction for another 2 days”. “It’s not for my hair” she said “it’s for my Chihuahua” “In that case” said the chemist, “don’t ride a bicycle for a week”.

“Ah ha, that’s a better one, lucky Madge isn’t here, wouldn’t approve, have some more coffee,Tim, Struther will be here any minute”

“By the by, what does Struther think of the Fisheries Reform proposals, he’s worked on the river all his life, must have views?”

“Views! You can say that again, Tim! A man of few words, but on that subject, most are unprintable. The bit that gets us down here is that one sentence in the Reform papers which makes it clear it applies the Tweed, including the English part. Overturned 200 years of history in one blow, effectively proposing the demise of the River Tweed Commission…....if they think the distinction for Tweed is unnecessary or inappropriate, then produce the reasons, the logic, you don’t just abolish the tried and tested management of one the best run, the best resourced, the most representative, the most successful in terms of catch, rivers in the North Atlantic without giving one single reason….makes your blood boil”

“I can see you are agitated, Topper old man, you look stirred”

“ Shaken and stirred,Tim……..20% of the Tweed system is in England, for God’s sake, that alone makes a separate and different, to the rest of Scotland, cross border arrangement imperative... and the RTC with its 81 commissioners, drawn from right across the catchment and from both countries, is perfect for that and has stood the test of time; I have yet to hear of anybody down here wanting to change that …...but the bloke Thin does, what right does he have? I think he had made his mind up to get rid of us long before he ever came down, bloody inconvenient for him that we do such a good job and still catch so many fish….ah, there you are Struther, come to scoop up my old friend and indulge him in the noble art?”

“Yes, sir and it’s a grand morning, it will be floating line and small fly today….not many fish about, but you never know”

“Well take old Tim away then, and don’t forget to give him the benefit of your innermost on what those Scots have in store for us on the English side of the Tweed…….payback if you ask me for all that raping and pillaging we Percys used to inflict on the other side of the river...mind you, they gave as good as they got, those Armstrongs and Elliots were just as bad as us”

“They would do well to leave us alone, sir”

“Quite right, Struther, fighting talk, we need you and all the other boatmen and anglers on the Tweed to stand up and be counted to ward off the bloke Thin and those who think he got it right. Now, off you go, Tim, tight lines and all that……. and to send you off in a jolly mood, do you know the one about the man who said to his friend “Where are you going?” “I’m going to fetch the doctor” said the friend ” I don’t like the look of my wife” “I’ll come with you” said the man ”I hate the sight of mine”. …..now come here Bollocks, you disobedient hellhound”

And so it was, with something approaching a spring in their steps, that Sir Tim and his boatman for the day, the incomparable Struther, set off for a very happy morning’s fishing on the English side of the great River Tweed, while Topper set about writing his very large annual cheque to the River Tweed Commissioners, something he could not conceive ever doing to the Scottish Government…..and, seemingly without a care in the world, he whistled away to himself as he did so, amid a veritable torrent of imprecations and abuse aimed at the unfortunate, but much loved, Bollocks.