Pat Carey Cunning rogue?

Born and raised in Tavistock, he was asked at an early age what he wanted to be when he grew up and declared with audacity that either a bank robber or a poacher would do. Asked to leave school at 15 he found he could make a little money through catching and selling game, and soon became known as Pat the Poacher – a name which has stuck and of which he is proud. He lived with Romany gypsies for two years, honing his countryside knowledge of animal behaviour and mimicry before returning to Devon where his reputation preceded him.

The Tavistock Woodlands Estate offered him a months’ probation to catch the rabbits which had decimated new saplings planted in the Tamar valley. After just a week Pat and his ferrets had caught enough rabbits to prove his worth and he remained in the post as Warrener and Deerstalker for 34 years, protecting 2500 acres of forestry and 2000 acres of farmland.

Pat has an uncanny skill at animal imitation and uses this to his advantage to get close to wild animals. He has made a DVD illustrating his skills, with beautiful, intimate footage of deer, hares and foxes in the wild. He is selling his DVD with proceeds going to the Macmillan Trust.

He has given many lively talks and demonstrations of his bush craft knowledge and poachers past to rapt groups all interested to hear more about his adventures. One such tale involves a dark night “lamping” rabbits when his torch caught the shiny buttons of a policeman. Running away he climbed a tree only to be undone by his faithful dog sitting at the bottom.  Enthusiasm for his stories has led Pat to begin writing an autobiography. Tentatively entitled “We were the Tavy boys” it will tell of a lost way of life, living off the land and of the scrapes and skirmishes in his youth which Pat describes as “wild and free”.

Lately Pat has put his skills to good use hosting “poachers suppers”, fundraising for the Macmillan Trust twice a year. His wife Sue was diagnosed with throat cancer five years ago, and after the wonderful support that they received from the Macmillan Trust, Pat felt he wanted to give something back. Each February he takes over the Fox and Hounds pub near Sourton.  It is an invitation only affair and those lucky enough to attend are treated to delights such as Pat’s venison chilli, cooked with beer and his rolled pork belly, stuffed with squirrel, rabbit and pheasant. In September he organises a grand game BBQ near Lamerton where he serves whole hot smoked salmon and venison sausages. This year over 100 attended his BBQ and he and his wife Sue raised over £300. He is very grateful to Paul and Jenny Howell who generously provide the meat at cost price.

Undoubtedly as a disreputable scoundrel in his youth, I imagine he caused his parents, teachers and the constabulary many a sleepless night, but now aged 68 he seems to have mellowed and his mischievous tales of a bygone age entertained me handsomely one nostalgic afternoon.  I hope he finishes his book; it will make for terrific reading.