A Day in the Life of a UK Fishing School Instructor

The alarm goes off just after six. Before anything else, it’s the first cup of tea of the day — non-negotiable. While that’s working its wake-up magic, I’m already half in work mode, checking emails, overnight web bookings, and answering any last-minute questions. For some of the people coming out today, this will be their very first time fishing, so reassurance matters just as much as logistics.

Still at my desk, it’s time for paperwork. I print off the client list and the risk assessment for the session. Today is all about beginners — proper first-timers — which means whip fishing, and whip fishing requires one thing above all else: maggots. Lots of them. About a gallon, roughly 30,000 in total. They come out of the fridge to wake up, then go through the riddles to swap sawdust for maize meal so they clean themselves and warm up. By the time we reach the lake they’ll be lively and ready to go.

While the bait sorts itself out, the van gets loaded. Today we’re running three sessions with four people per group, so the seat boxes go in, along with the rod case, landing nets, unhooking mats, instructor kit and spares. I nip back inside to fill the flask — and double-check the maggots are coming too. Forgetting those would be unforgivable.

Before the first cast comes the quiet work — loading vans, prepping rigs, and making sure everything’s ready.

It’s then off to Shallowbrook Lakes, arriving with time to spare — enough to justify a quick bacon roll from Greggs on the way. The forecast is doing that classic spring–summer thing, so the gazebo goes up straight away, just in case. The assistant instructors arrive shortly after, and with all hands on deck the setup is quick — kits in the swims, whips rigged, floats plumbed, bait organised. Everything ready before the first group arrives.

There’s just enough time for another cuppa while we run through the day’s plan. We know the venue well, so the risk assessment is more a reminder than a deep dive, but the basics still get covered — water safety, hooks, slips, and general awareness.

The first group arrives, brand new to fishing and buzzing with excitement. We get everyone signed in and start with a short safety briefing. The rules are simple: don’t fall in, listen carefully, and no matter how tempting they look, don’t eat the maggots. That usually gets a laugh and breaks the ice.

Every session starts with a briefing — safety, planning, and setting the day up properly.

Then it’s straight into fishing. The group splits into pairs with the assistants, and it isn’t long before I hear it — that shout when someone catches their first fish. I wander over and we take a moment to admire it. A modest rudd, but for a beginner it’s a memory that sticks. Quick photo, the fish slips safely back, and the smiles are huge. From there, the bites come steadily. Small fish, a few better ones, but every single one adds to the day — and for some, it lights a spark that lasts a lifetime.

As the second and third sessions roll through, the rhythm stays the same. Between the three of us we’re constantly rotating — untangling lines, re-rigging, netting fish, answering questions, and quietly building confidence. Whip fishing is simple and effective, perfect for beginners, and you can see independence growing as it starts to click. That’s the real goal: everyone leaving believing they could come back and do it themselves.

As the last session ends, we gather everyone together for a short debrief. People head home with photos of their first fish, great memories, and a clear path if they want to keep fishing. That matters just as much as the catching.

Confidence grows fast when someone’s there to guide you through it.

With everyone safely on their way, it’s finally our turn. Between the three of us we grab half an hour on the whips for a bit of fun and a friendly competition over who can catch the biggest. Instructor pride is very much on the line, and the banter ramps up instantly.

Pack-down follows quickly. Thankfully the rain stayed away, so everything’s dry. The van gets loaded, and I debrief the instructors. We’ve got a newly qualified instructor with us today — still learning, just like the beginners we teach — so it’s praise where it’s due and constructive feedback where it helps. None of us ever stop learning. We say our goodbyes, and on the way home I stop at the local tackle shop to restock. Days like this burn through bait and bits fast.

Back home, the van is unloaded for security, tangled rigs go straight into the line recycling, and it’s obvious we’re running low on pre-tied setups. The evening will be spent tying rigs and getting everything ready for the next session.

Fishing together, learning together — and going home proud of the catch.

It’s a long day, busy from start to finish. But helping people catch their first fish — and watching confidence grow along the way — never gets old. That’s exactly why we do it.

Tomorrow’s a different lesson: intermediate carp fishing. Most of those anglers started exactly where today’s beginners did, and after a year of progress they’re ready to step up to bigger fish. Later in the week it’s off to the beach with heavier gear, but the fundamentals stay the same.

Different venues, different tackle — same goal: helping people fish with confidence.