Okay, you muskie fishing hotshots, without doubt you'll claim to know all kinds of things about big fish in Minnesota and Wisconsin and Canada. Big fish.

Well, we'd like to bring this favorite Fishing Bar of ours specifically to your attention. A question for you. How many of you have caught a 50–inch or 30–pound muskie? Say "aye" if you have. I do in fact hear a smattering of voices.

Now then, how many of you muskie pros, or indeed any of the rest of you fishermen, have caught a 50–inch or 30–pound Northern Pike? The silence is deafening.

But what would greet you, if you happened to wander into The Squirrel Inn as I myself chanced to do a year ago, and you cast your eyes above the cheery fireplace with the standard British pub dog asleep in front of it? You'd see a Northern Pike (or just plain "Pike" as the Brits call this variety of Esox) in an exceptionally nice glass case, and if you measured that fish as I did, you'd find yourself in the presence of a 4–foot+ monster.

In England? You bet. And I've got the story behind it. It seems that....

Hold it. Let me tell you about the bar first.

Battle is a town of a few thousand inhabitants some five miles from the English Channel town of Hastings. This is where the famous "Battle of Hastings" took place in 1066. But that's ancient history. What's more important, these days, is that Battle has eight pubs, of which The Squirrel Inn is one.

Now all of the bars have their attractions, including "The Abbey" where Andy is perhaps the best bartender in all of Britain. And "The King's Head" has Wendy behind the bar every night and "Quiz Night" on Wednesday nights. Then certainly, you need to visit "The 1066" (locally called "The Ten") just on general principles because of the name.

But of course, their British Beer – and it deserves capitalization – is why you really want to come here. I myself am madly in love with "Bitter." Served at the proper 55° temperature, in that classic pint glass that fits so wonderfully in your hand, their "Real Ales" are the best beers in the world.

I heartily recommend the "Spitfire" at The Abbey, and the "Flowers IPA" at The Ten. And at The Squirrel they serve "Harvey's Sussex Best Bitter, " a locally produced brew that is perhaps the best of them all, as well as a constantly changing selection of "Guest Beers."

You won't go thirsty here, I promise you.

And while I'm at it, you won't go hungry either. They've got a great pub menu, including a "Sunday Roast" that's as good as any I've ever had over there.

And, oh yes, they do have a pool table, not to mention the obligatory pub "Fruit Machine" that will cheerfully relieve you of any stray coins that you may have jingling in your pocket.

But let me get back to that fish on the wall. I first stumbled into it, like I said, a year ago, and couldn't believe my eyes. I asked at the bar. They didn't seem to know anything about it. I came back a week later, bought a couple of pints, and was gingerly told that the fish had been caught locally, but at some uncertain location.

I kept coming back. (I was living in Battle at the time.)

I kept buying pints of Harvey's.

I got the story, eventually.

You see, one day a couple of years ago, "Jim" was testing the action of some local fishing waters. Unfortunately, it appears that Jim had neglected to transact certain matters with the Queen's bureaucracy relating to permits and seasons and the like. He just went fishing.

And as it turned out, Jim did indeed manage to hook into a modest sized Perch. As he was reeling it in, without warning, behind the perch a gigantic mouth opened up in the water, and ––––

But hey! Why am I telling you all this?

Pay your dues with a few pints of Harvey's, and you can get the story at The Squirrel Inn in Battle, one of our distant but favorite Fishing Bars....