Haydn 'Nobby' Hobbs (3 Jul 1941 - 15 Jan 2019)

Hi Nobby. More money from the Dukes Head including Paul Martin.

After all those years sea fishing with Peter, you never once had to call on the RNLI even though you could not swim.

Haydn – The Carp Years
In the late 1950’s, Haydn made a life changing decision. He started to fish for carp.
The sport of carp fishing was only in its infancy and little did he know that this would give him a passion that would last for 50 years.
The new breed of carp angler lived and breathed the pursuit of carp and for those involved it became a way of life. Every spare minute was spent either fishing, thinking about fishing or planning the next trip.
Because this type of angling was relatively new, all the tackle had to be designed and made by hand as it was not available in the shops.
At the start, Haydn travelled to and from the venues on his motor cycle, which was very precarious with all the rods and tackle, but as the duration of the stay on the bank side increased – a week at a time was not unusual –he needed a larger means of transport so moved up to a van.
Over the next few decades he fished extensively in Surrey, Hampshire, Kent and Sussex always looking for better or larger carp to catch. During this time he made many friendships which would last for years.
In the late 1980’s he joined a very prestigious carp syndicate in Denham, Buckinghamshire, the wonderful Savay Lake, where he was to catch the biggest carp of his angling career. He fished there well into his seventies and still held a permit when he passed away.

I’m loving memory of a lovely man Haydn Hobbs

Haydn Arthur Hobbs
Just as a point of information, Haydn was known to all his fishing friends as Nobby – obviously a corruption of his surname which probably began in his school days.
To say that Haydn had a full and meaningful life really would be an understatement for such a unique person.
Below we have categorised some of the major anecdotes, leaving out a lot of his minor ones.
During one of our many car journeys to a fishing venue, he told us of one night when he and some friends had set up a pirate radio station in a barn out in the countryside. They had been transmitting for quite some time when their look-out noticed the approach of flashing blue lights!
Yes – the GPO had tracked the signal and had told the police where the transmission was coming from. Quickly they re-packed his van and set off at break-neck speed – which is very hard to imagine for Haydn was quite a slow driver in his senior years and the vans in the 1960’s were really not that fast. They proceeded, with Haydn at the wheel, along the country lanes with the police in hot pursuit.
No one knew the country lanes and local fishing venues better than Haydn. It did take some time but eventually he managed to lose the tailing police car without them getting a look at his number plate and he drove safely home.
Haydn had the position of caretaker at his apartment block. He was well known, liked and would look after a lot of the less mobile senior neighbours, taking them shopping etc.
He was immensely proud and fond of his family, always keeping us up to date on their various lives and in particular his young nephew Jack, who apparently plays every ball game that was ever invented to an extremely high standard.
Haydn was a founding member of the Duke’s Head Piscatorial Society, set up with 4 other regulars at the aforementioned public house, one of whom was the landlord, obviously, and another – Peter Alden – who has also, sadly, passed away recently.
The club was a great success and still has a strong following. It grew, over the years to a membership of about 26 ardent fisherman of varying talents. Some truly brilliant, keen, competitive fishermen with high tech poles worth in excess of £3000 and 50 foot long, while others went just for the enjoyment of a days fishing with their friends.
Match fishing, as the club became, rather than pleasure fishing, is not an easy sport. It involves dragging yourself out of bed at 5 am on a Saturday morning, driving an inordinate number of miles to a venue that can accommodate 20+ anglers, stopping for breakfast on the way and being ready for the start whistle at 10 am. Rather than 5 am, Haydn was always up and about by 3 am at the latest ready to be picked up at 6 am. That is dedication.
During last years fishing season, Haydn won the club cup for the heaviest bream and this would have been despite him not being in the greatest of health.
Haydn never ever used a fishing pole. He was always a rod and reel angler, but could hold his own amongst the best members of the club. More often than not he would use his favourite centre pin reel that let out a really loud scream when the fish took his bait and a shout of ‘Go on Nobby’ was inevitably heard amongst the members. He was nearly always in the top 25% of anglers at the end of the year, when the final points had been added up and there were very few, if any, of the members that had not been beaten by him.
This gave rise to a well used club phrase. To Be Nobbied. This means that in spite of youth, talent and all the latest technical angling equipment, experience had beaten you on the day.
While we have been compiling this précis of Haydn’s life, it was apparent that many of his friends are called Peter and we are all sure that there is another Peter, the greatest fisherman of all, that met with him 3 weeks ago. This one would not have shouted, but just said in welcome, as he shook his hand, ‘Go on Nobby’.

In loving memory of Haydn

All our love

Sally andTony