A STRANGE EVENT

Recently I e-mailed Anthony about an odd event that I had as a teenager. I published it as a letter in Fortean Times some years ago. I still have the mag somewhere in the depths of my room but here is the story. I grew up in the little Welsh border town known as Hay-on-Wye today famous for it's secondhand book trade and it's literature festival every May. One for Mr Peake in the future perhaps?
I am coming up to 61 now and at the time was about 16 or 17 at most. In those days it was not uncommon to see lads fishing off the bridge at Hay, underneath which the River Wye flowed some 40 feet below. The art of fishing off this bridge was to catch a very light but up river breeze that was just strong enough to carry your line up river with a big old artificial fly on the end of it and dap the fly up and down on the pool which was slightly more on the town's side rather than in the middle of the river .
So this particular day I arrived on the bridge on my bicycle one morning and I think it could have well been in May perhaps early June. Although it was sunny it was not particularly warm and a cool up river strongish breeze was the order of the day. So I had decided to use a worm as bait and a lot of lead weight, even then the long line was lifting in the breeze. Out of my left eye I saw a man approaching from the town, down Bridge Street and onto the wide modern concrete bridge (rebuilt 1958). As he approached I had the impression he was some sort of religious minister or vicar. Although I don't now recollect seeing a dog collar but presume he must have worn one. Anyway not being a church goer I was rather a little timid of this chap approaching who then stopped on my left hand side and asked me how long I had been there, had I caught anything etc. I said I hadn't been there long and caught nothing. Now I must point out I had never ever seen this man before or afterwards and haven't a clue who he was. There was no one on the bridge beside him and me, you can see in both directions quite a long way. He said try straight down there below the bridge, I said there were no fish under there as I have tried many times, besides the river runs too fast and can't see your line and I needed a lot of weight. Anyway as he was stood there I hauled up the line added extra weight and dropped the line straight down, I am sure at this point he had just moved away from me and instantly a huge fish a really big chub had taken the bait. I turned to say I have got one and he had vanished. There was no way he could have gone back the way he came or gone on the other way in a few seconds. As I say the view both ways was distant and open. No car had come along to pick him up. As always no witnesses either. The fish was so big the line was going to break anyway so I jerked the line and snapped it. Then horror of horrors struck me, had this man jumped off the opposite side of the bridge whilst destracting me? I rushed over looked down but nothing just the river, the river was quite shallow on the downside so had he vaulted over the railings he would have been easy to see.
I quickly packed up my kit, jumped on my bike and still in disbelief cycled around town looking for him, what had happened, where had he gone?
How did he know I would catch a fish where he had pointed, was he a ghost? He was solidly human I thought but can't be sure of his face at all. He was grey haired, a light brown mac, a trilby type hat. Was he a figment of my imagination, was he my Daemon. Was there some warp in time, in my reality. I went home told my parents and my friends later that day. What could they say, nothing, no particular comment. I later told my much older sister who still today at 75 remembers me telling her. Memory of the event still seems clear to me but still puzzles me and it is odd with age you tend to question the event however my sister still remembers me telling her and I am grateful for that.