Tag Archives: Howard Mann

BERKSHIRE

25 Saturday Jun 2011

Posted by in Berkshire

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Howard Mann fishes…for anything!

As I write this, he is in Alaska with Celine and Australian buddies, looking for steelheads and Pacific salmon!

His first love, “real fishing” as he insists, is for coarse fish, and casting a fly is a relatively newly acquired skill, but there is not too much he does not know about how to catch pike, bream, perch, roach and barbel from the Thames at the bottom of his garden (and anywhere else, he can, with ‘celeb’ fishing pals) and his specimens are recorded and photographed and logged on a ‘scoreboard’ in his fishing hut, along with prize catch of each by his son, and also visiting friends. He has more fishing ‘stuff’ than you can wave a stick at in there. Along with a selection of walking and rambling gear, for he, like me, is ‘on a mission’ His, is to walk to the highest point in every county. We have agreed to differ on the number of counties there are! He is a purist!

After blanking on the Usk together in April, he reckoned that Round Two with is new dysyllabic (trout!) pal, on his syndicate water would be productive, and so it was to be.

June 2011- the Kennet

Benham Park is a magnificent mansion designed by Henry Holland and Capability Brown for William, 6th Baron Craven in 1775, and today it has been converted to offices !?

But through its 150 hectares, and just two miles upstream of Newbury, flows the Kennet.

I don’t know the Kennet that well. I have fished it upstream at Barton Court with only an escapee rainbow to my name. But the water seems clearer, and more obviously chalk stream there, and just four miles upstream. The water this day at Benham Park, was, in parts, ‘grey’,

and Keeper, Gary Allen explained that above Benham, the River Kennet and the Kennet & Avon Canal are conjoined. Whereas once the canal ran clear and shoals of fish, mainly roach, were always evident, the onset of lottery funding and the impacts of additional recreational use has changed its character, and water clarity is a distant memory. So this water ‘dirty’ water makes its way into the Kennet. The water I witnessed below the fishing hut has phosphates and suspended solids in it, along with algal growth and greater silt concentration, and low winter rainfall and low Summer levels means that he dare not cut the weed, for fear that whilst flows will increase and some clarity will be regained, water levels will fall and fish stocks will be vulnerable to predation. As a Keeper he is stuck between a ‘rock and a hard place’, and whilst winter rains will restore the aquifers, and improve matters, the real need is a complete separation of the canal and the river, and attempts are ongoing to achieve this.

Our day started with Howard revealing that the race below the hatch in front of the fishing hut was, in Victorian times, the Craven family swimming pool,

and iron works still show where the diving board stood. I have to confess that I was more impressed by the rises under the trees opposite, but also wary about growing cloud cover and an increasing breeze, suggesting that rain was en route.

And after walking to the bottom of Parliament Draft, one of Howard’s favourite carriers, a few casts later and the drizzle began. But below the bridge where were suspended some cords attached to floating boards,

 

 

 

 

 

 

at the end of the race through the narrow arched brickwork and the etched out deeps, I connected and lost. But another cast and a jerking retrieve (if you have not read Robert Hughes’  ‘A Jerk on One End’…do, it’s very amusing!) and minutes later, my first Kennet brown was banked and returned.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And then I netted a second from the same pool hooked by Howard, in the rains…

But the rain stopped and we walked and cast occasionally into the carriers, including the renewed, Allens Brook, until a call from Gary suggested we tried emergers on the main stream below the hatch at the top of the club’s beat.

Well….a small brown (only my second from the Kennet) was followed by two dace, until a huge shouldered, wide mouthed brown took a look at my Adams, and I was astonished and by its size and just gasped in amazement at what I had seen come up to the surface….and cast eagerly again, for I sensed no contact, and thought that without pricking him, he might be tempted up again….and he was, and was hooked, two casts later. He was strong and fought so hard and I shouted to Howard for help, because from my casting point some feet above the water there was no easy access to net him, and besides mine was too small.

This photograph does this specimen no favours,

because he was a tad under 3lbs, and is yet another large wild brownie which I have been fortunate to catch this season.

When you catch such a fish, you stop and think, just what a privilege it is to unhook, hold and admire such beauty, and to know he is going back to grow and enjoy freedom in a lovely stream.  And…inside you, the Hunter Gatherer feels that in spite of man’s natural urges, there is no real desire to catch another, for there are few to match him. He was that magnificent, and I am pleased to have returned him.

So, stop now, and be grateful…for what you (I) have just experienced.

And so I was.

Howard and I hooked up again (sic) and walked the length of the beat to the dreaded A34 bridge, and cast a few times into waters, which may have held fish, but…my day was already complete.

Thanks, Howard…now where shall we fish next, together? And on the fly!

Oh!….those boards below the bridge on Allens Brook? They mark where Gary has set traps for the horrid American Signal Crayfish, and walking downstream we bumped into him on his 4-wheel, and observed buckets of his ‘catch of the day’, which will by now have been served up and enjoyed by diners in a local pub no doubt. Sadly they will be on the menu for some time to come.

Even though this stretch of the Kennet needs attention, Gary keep(er)s his beat of this special river extremely well. The syndicate is lucky to have him.

WORCESTERSHIRE

09 Saturday Apr 2011

Posted by in Worcestershire

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Surfing the net revealed that the county is bereft of trout streams. Its rivers and streams are mostly within the Severn catchment, and these are at levels where pace and depth are more the domain of bottom feeders. The search was revealing though.

I discovered the river Rea when I chanced upon Pete Marshall’s website and we had an exchange –

“Worcester itself has the lower Teme, the middle Severn and the Stour, all of which have Trout in them. The middle Severn and the Lower Teme are pretty tough going for the fly angler. Plenty of trout  about in the lower Teme as you find out when bait fishing later in the season and they ruin your day, however the river is pretty hard to fish on the fly, wading very difficult and dangerous and banks steep and overgrown.”

I thought that James at Gliffaes might have some ideas because he, and the Brabners  are so well connected with the fishing community that way, and through him, Simon Evans of the Wye Usk Foundation suggested the Rea (!)  but also Dowles Brook; and more searches connected me with the Tenbury  Fishing Association, and Lynda Rickett (aka Hon Sec) from whose enthusiastic writing I sensed, really wanted to help me, but most of their water on the Teme (which I would still love to fish, at some stage) represented the county boundary, and I have to fight fair! It’s only INside a county that counts!!

I also discovered, by luck, a property called Tundridge Mills, which sits on the Leigh Brook. I knew about the Leigh Brook, which with its near neighbour, the Cradley Brook, have featured in the WTT Auction the last couple of years. So, I wrote a completely speculative email to their web address…..and received a reply from Keith Beard, which was welcome and exciting.

“Dear Tony,

You are welcome to come and fish. We have about 700 yds of river bank.

You will be the only one to fish there since I last took my children, 15 years ago, apart from the Herons that is!

To my knowledge there are brown Trout and minnows.

Regards,

Keith”

April 2011 – the Leigh Brook

The previous day, Howard (Mann, of whom, more will surely follow!!) and I had been privileged to fish a private beat on the Usk near Talybont,  just a few miles out of Brecon,  courtesy of a fellow Director at a company where Howard is Senior Independent  NED. We fished and chatted hard, but caught nought!  “Too bright, too cold, not enough water “….was how Dai Land Agent defended the river.

So, and after a night at the Three Cocks Inn (yes!) near Brecon and a super, Welsh Lamb cutlet dinner et de vin rouge du maison (Oz), it was off to Longley Green, and SatNav allowing, I hoped to arrive by 10.Through beautiful Herefordshire countryside in the most extraordinary April sunshine, numerous mobile telephone conversations when connections allowed, being buzzed by SAS choppers, and into Worcestershire, I did…but only via courtesy of a farm worker ‘en Defender’, because my StreetMap printout was lacking, and Volvo’s SatNav does not allow full Post Code input (why not?)

I was greeted by Keith’s charming wife, Penny, and was intrigued to learn some of the recent history of their lovely home. I cannot do it justice, but to précis it…living in a home (as they have this one for 25 years) attached to a mill, beside a river, can become tedious, when winter floods flow through  your living room! So, Keith, an engineer, designed a method to eliminate this. He limited the flood water in the millstream by piping it under the garden, elevated by moving tons of earth into a long barrow extending the whole  length of the formal gardens of his home, and flood waters now irrigate the  meadow adjacent to the river, sixty yards away, and not his house. Simple, really….but an enormous amount of work! Some of the earth came from land levelled to build some very comfortable, modern cottages which are rented to holidaymakers on short term lets. Apparently, the angling community has still to discover this (they have a stocked lake of a quarter acre, as well) and mostly, visitors are ramblers.

The village of Longley Green is picture postcard with pretty white washed cottages, a pub and a post office, and a blaze of aubretia and daffodils. The setting at the Mill this day was serene. When I arrived there was not a cloud in the sky and in the bright sunshine, and with foliage yet to appear on the trees, the wild flowers were visible in the woods on the hillside opposite. Not a breath of wind, and warm already, and the only sounds, the cacophony of, crows crowing, cockerels calling, pheasant wings flapping and screeching, and the buzzing of bees awoken too early for their liking.

It was pure peace, and there is really no place in the World I would rather be, in early Spring, than in England.

Penny told me that there was a big fish the local lads tried to catch dangling bait over the bridge in the pool at the bottom of their beat.

Sounded like a good place to begin my quest, and walking across the garden still to decide whether this was to be a Halford or a Skues Day, I saw a rise, and this encouraged me. But as it happened this was to be the only rise I saw all morning, and Skues, won.

I fished ‘small’. My Loomis Xperience (7’6” for 4wt.) was perfect for this stream, and for flies, I tied a gold headed PTN (#18) to the point, and a black gnat (#22), to the dropper, on a leader, the length of my rod.

Brought up on a diet of spate rivers and chalk streams, I am having to learn the craft of small stream fishing, and must if I am to achieve my goal, for these streams are in the majority in non traditional trouty counties. And to remind myself of the need for stealth,

I saw and spooked my first fish quite early. This was the only fish I actually saw, because the sensible ones were hiding in the pockets. And it was not before I found one,

and netted Worcestershire at the same time. And relaxed now, I became more adventurous and slid down many a steep bank and into shallow water below pocket after

pool seeking out more fish, and did, hooking and losing, or netting on both flies. Only 700 yards of river but with many juicy looking spots, this is a lovely bit of water, but so much easier now, before the trees become fully in leaf, and even now, I lost at least three leaders to overzealous back casts.

I finally arrived at what Penny told me was the weir pool.

And unexpectedly, it was. This was fished with a short line, and yielded the best of my five, netted. All were 4 – 5”, wild browns with characteristic red spots,

and some with a char like white edge to the tail fin. My ‘specimen’ which told me that after only two and half hours, it was time to stop and enjoy, thoughtfully, my morning, was about 3/4lb, and a real scrapper, which will be a 1lb-er before it spawns next Winter, I hope.

My day concluded with a grateful (and boastful!) showing of my pictures to Penny, who shared my joy in success, and told me that I must return (and maybe, even stay!)

What a morning, and I am justly thankful to Keith, and take pleasure in recommending Tundridge Mill to my readers.