That one statement by him probably summed Bob up, he trusted no person other than his son, and had an absolute disdain for wealth or classes, which was a paradox in itself as I met Bob on the shooting field, for those unaware and reading this, the shooting field on driven game was quite elitist though that aspect has changed over the last 30 plus years in so much that the field is made up of all walks of life now.
Bob was a quiet chap, observing and rarely commenting openly, when he did speak he was cutting and acerbic, often uncomplimentary but a character non the less.
He told me he was an alcoholic that hadn't drank for 25 plus years, but that every day was a battle, he was a violent drunk who surprisingly stood at around 5'4" appx, never ever worked and would say he worked for her majesty and did very well out of it.
He ran greyhounds, was hard on his dogs ( he would run 7-8 spaniel's on a shoot, these dogs would be cowered in their demeanor but worked well and never range'd far, spaniel's often pull forward; Bob's were dervishes around his feet, which for those that know working dogs would probably understand their handler was hard on them).
A discussion was being held one day about Bob in his absence, the headkeeper remarked he was sceptical in Bob's story of longnetting, for those of you with a certain age or standing will be aware of longnetting, it's a past time of setting a long net of appx 100 yrds, historically made of hemp but in later years nylon ( a cheap alternative but nasty material which picks up all the crap lying around or the slightest briar straggling)
I've attempted longnetting, this would normally have been conducted on a stormier evening, you peg out the nets, using hazle spars and lift the net, the rabbits (usually the quarry for this technique) then go back under darkness, drop the net which has a pocket of loose/excess net which the resulting rabbits will tangle or enmesh themselves in when spooked back into the safety of their burys.
The times I did it was pure farcical, the nets snagged, we could never set the net without unpicking the longnet ( imagine braid unspooled in a Hessian sack) .... My long net was consigned to the shed, the .22 and lamp was the preferred method and far easier!
Bob had passed comment on hare catching by which he use to catch hundreds in years gone by, using 7-8 longnets set then hares driven into these positions, from a team of beaters walking up miles of fields (often conducted on Salisbury plains, MOD land and for those that know, home to large numbers of our native brown Hare, fields on the plains are often measured in 100,s of acres and lend itself to prime habitat)
Well we got an invite to go catching, sure enough we all met up, unsure what to expect and with a chap who was nonplussed and apathetic to the day ahead.
Bundles of hazle spars were pulled from the truck, 3-4' long with several Hessian sacks of hemp longnets.... Now the guys who I went with had all experienced my own similar attempt at long netting, we had an open mind though on this.
Never would I see another day like that, the spars were pushed into the ground, as quick they walked it was every 15 yrds, then a chap trailed the net equally as quick over the spar, within 15 min the team had set 800 yrds of nets, with backdrop of hedge to lay in wait, here we sat/hunched not sure what to expect.
We all marvelled later at how quick these nets were set and picked up to move, it was seamless and devastating in its operation.
The longest time was waiting for miles of plains to be brought in by dozens of beaters using flags, when all of a sudden hares started tentatively going the 'purse' of the net, these captives would be carefully untangled in a quick movement and placed into holding crates behind the hedge, on the day we repeated this 4-5 times and ended up with near on 100 hares,iirc 87 ...
The crates for holding were different to the freight crates they were placed in prior to transportation, imagine an 'after eight box chocolate' but with hares in not a wafer thin mint!
The hares once boxed would not move, each end had a trap door sliding up n down, you would marry up the holding box to the transportation box, sliding requisite door up\down accordingly.
Bob watched me pushing this hare and getting no where, the captive hare despite being pushed was not budging....'blow' came the command from Bob.
My response was quizzical and mindful others had joined us, unsure what to do, a few laughed and then Bob told me to get out the way, he proceeded to drop to his knees and put his lips to this Hares ass ....giving it a big puff, the hare shot into the resulting transportation box.
These hares went to Qatar, they made their way on diplomatic flights, hunted by the royals using falcons in the desert ...
I did do another few days over the years with Bob, nothing on the level of what I experienced that day but the last one we did was for Johnny kingdom wild life program, but that was another experience on a whole new level, it went out on ITV and my only claim to fame, Hollywood didn't come knocking, but I did manage to grab Johnny's c*ck on camera, never seen him speechless prior to that....
Bob is no longer with us, but he did write a book during his latter years, 'The last English poacher' he certainly was an odd guy.
big ones are no good they hold the rabbit down the hole.
.
