Monthly Archives: September 2011

SOMERSET

24 Saturday Sep 2011

Posted by in Somerset

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Back in the nineties, I kept a hand written diary of some of my exploits, in a leather bound book, specially made for me by a Cambridge printer, who cut out alternative pages, so that the book could contain photographs within its total width. The printer is J S Wilson & Son (Bookbinders) Ltd, and the idea came from an article in Trout & Salmon.

Now to which Grandchild do I bequeath this work to? Any minute now, I will have my sixth!!

I decided to copy into this page, what I wrote in September 1997, but sadly my photographs then, were not digitalised, so you will have imagine what a pretty place I fished on Exmoor, and the little beauties I eked out of  –

September 1997 – the Barle

“The Tarr Steps Hotel nestles in a deep valley in the middle of Exmoor, and was to be the location for a weekender with friends from Connecticut, which would guarantee it to be a very ‘liquid’ weekend, as indeed it was!

The Friday evening journey out of London (M’s 4 and 5) seemed endless, but the eventual welcome by the hotel team, and after  negotiating the steepest, narrowest, access lane in the dark and moonless light, clearly designed to keep out non-fishers, was genuine.  Dinner and  sleep, and then up to fish before breakfast, produced  two small wild browns on an Adams, and in the short fast run, just above the Steps. (This would not have been possible after the arrival of the car loads of Grockles, later in the morning)

Leaving the hotel after a late breakfast, for some sightseeing and shopping, mid morning, it was an amazing surprise to see, on our return, that the top of a tree stump by the driveway, when we left for Barnstable, had been transformed by the talent of a local chainsaw artist, into a carving of a beautiful pheasant…

The fishing in the late afternoon was super. I took seven fish on Adams and various sedge patterns, by wandering up from the bottom of the hotel beat, and casting mainly, into quicker water. But, in doing so, I not only lost my favourite polaroids, but also slid into waist deep water, reminding me of the need for caution and respect when wading!

Sunday morning was spent wandering upstream from the Steps to Altar Rock. Only two fish, again on the Adams (para version….it’s the only way my fading eyes can see them!). But I did see a salmon resting in Hinds Pit.

The walkers, and there were plenty of them, did not distract, and the second fish was a fighting 8”-er. Eleven, in all  this visit”

Post script –

Sadly, the hotel  is no more. It was bought and converted into a lovely family home. But the Barle is still there….

SUFFOLK

08 Thursday Sep 2011

Posted by in Suffolk

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Suffolk, my nemesis, PJ !

…’le mien’?

…mais non, Mon Brave Pecheur…lu dessus…

And it is all down to John (Anderson), and his enthusiasm for my mission, and his fulfilment of a promise made after a blank in May.

That day was  an unbelievably hot (as we now know only May was) and bright day, and with weed and reed growth, already  massive, we guessed that the trout on the Lark at Icklingham which the cormorants had disregarded, were probably hiding in the stem and root stock well away from my enticing casts. We saw no rise, nor swirl, nor ‘nothing’ that morning to John’s needless embarrassment. But his company through the morning and a delicious lunch at the Red Lion (well worth a visit…several local ales, and great food) and our endless chat, seemed enough to motivate this retired GP and fisher, to guide me again, knowing that trout streams in Suffolk are scarce.

After two more ciabbattas, and some cleansing ale, we were back on his stream…”I have a plan”, he revealed. And this time we headed downstream to below the weir, where it is very wade-able. His plan involved the PTN, and my set up included a weighted #20 (from Five Rivers Lodge), tied below a bushy caddis pattern with a pink-ish parachute…OK, a float, if you must…and it did feel as though I was trotting (!).

The wind coming off my right hand side was harsh and several casts needed retrieving from the fronds nearby…but just below the concrete weir and where the river had widened to produce a back eddy,

where John had once caught a small pike, one of the few casts which I put below the alder overhanging it, saw the floater dip, and a lift and resistance which became serious, meant I had a ‘fish on’….was it a chub, I worried? It planed (‘kited’ , if you listen to John Wilson) across the weir, pulling very hard and in that erratic style which singles out our preferred species. As it neared, its colours still confused me, but with John leaning to give me his long handled net , I saw SPOTS…and knew! Caution,  caution, caution…this is Suffolk’s only trout stream…and when he was netted, I am not sure whether John’s pride in helping, or mine in achieving (is that the right word?), dominated, but we were both very pleased.

He took the trailing nymph, and the colouration of this fish was unusual…almost orange when he came out of the water. He was  a stocked fish weighing in at just over 2lbs, so had probably been in the river three years.  It took a while to revive the fellow. He fought hard, as such a fish should. But revived, he returned to his eddied lie.

Afterwards we wandered upstream, me casting into the runs, optimistically,  where I missed out before, and did again!

John’s is a lovely fishery…”but dour”, he acknowledged!  But  why?

The water is clear, flowing quickly through lush streaming weed, in which I am sure nymphal life is prolific, even though on this day we saw little fly life (and not a single rise). There were minnows, galore, but few trout. But we saw several  of the species ‘corvus marinus’  and ‘pacifastacus lenusculus’….that’s cormorant, and American signal crayfish, to you and me. Of the latter, I saw dozens, and more than on any other stream I have fished, at the top end of our beat.

The work of the WTT manages stream and flow…and delivers spawning areas….protection of fish stocks is whose responsibility? The  EA?

We must all work together for the long term.

NOTTINGHAMSHIRE

06 Tuesday Sep 2011

Posted by in Nottinghamshire

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Nottinghamshire was always going to be a problem and this required ingenuity. Who did I know, or who did I know who knew someone who might? Where could I seek information which might lead to where…because the ‘Where to’s ’… seemed  unable to.

Julian (Atkins) had a pal who might know…and Tim Jacklin (WTT) offered some really helpful thoughts, but it was a speculative plea on Fly Fishing Forums, which produced a response from, one, Chris Hawkins, who is one interesting young man.  So some words about him, first.


He is a local lad who left school and started a mechanical engineering course which did not excite him. So eager and ambitious, he set about obtaining some ‘A’ Levels, which he did, in order to secure a place at (Aberystwyth) University where he studied environmental sciences, but to what end? Well, already a keen fisher, and also one with a strong conscience, he chose to enter the charity sector, and parlayed his love for fishing in particular, the outdoors in general, and utilise his generous spirit, to try to help vulnerable youngsters by offering some insights into something/anything, or in his case, fishing, so that new learnings might give them an improved sense of worth.

His own fishing journey is evolving  as he moves from coarse to game, excited by the hunting aspects and the artistry, too, and today, he  is generally at the still water stage, but he is now learning river craft , and I hope some of my experience was helpful to him. But, it was his inquisitiveness and eagerness to learn about this new fishing which led to him, finding me, as he used the Forums to learn for himself! He is a special chap.

He  gave me some time during a rare holiday week, and my SatNav got me to the very car park where he wanted to meet in the pretty town of Warsop.

August 2011 – the Meden

We strolled his stream for sometime, he pointing out potential runs on a weedy water where the chub could be seen waiting, but it was only after clambering over fences and wading cross stream, avoiding some outsize cows,  that he excitedly told me we had arrived where I might succeed. And a rising fish excited me, too, but a snagged weighted nymph trailing a dry probably saw him off, from what turned out to be just six inches of water, anyway.

There was just a little fly life (olives and caddis) on this overcast and windy day.

And , not too much farther upstream, I spotted a run which, after just two casts, delivered a Nottinghamshire trout which Chris netted in his outsize net  – “to be sure”! – and on a dry, and on my reliable Adams, the onsurface equivalent of the subsurface ‘hare’s ear’!

His is a small stream.  It is narrow but laden with features, and more than enough variety to engage. Gravelly bottomed, but protected in parts by steep banks, and many a leaning bush and tree to snag poor casts, and at this time of year, there is plenty of overgrowth tumbling into the water to give much needed security. Council owned water abutting an old quarry, and part leased for grazing, this is not a tended stretch. Public space therefore, it was noticeable that strollers and dog walkers, this day, respected our need for stealth, for the trout were all wild, and we saw plenty…in escape!

The upper beat, through farmland, is shared with young lads bottom fishing ‘au maggot’, and  I learned just what specimens this stream holds. One, asked – “Is that a fly rod, Mister?” and the other, his pal, shared proudly, with me, two pictures saved on his mobile of brownies he had caught at the very spot under an old brick rail bridge where they were fishing, which put my solitary 8” tiddler to shame! It also shared with perch, and at one spot, it was lovely to stand and watch a family of them swim fearlessly between my wadered legs!