Tag Archives: WTT

Merseyside

01 Sunday Jul 2012

Posted by in Merseyside

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The County of Merseyside has no streams containing trout.

This is the view of no lesser an authority than Dr Malcolm Greenhalgh, and is based on research he conducted in preparation of a scientific paper, as noted in his response to my enquiry of him, which read –

“Dear Tony

First, Merseyside is not a real county but an administrative county! Parts of the County Palatines of Lancashire and Cheshire! But here goes:

There is an angling club, Wirral I think, that has some fishing in that area. There are no river trout in southwest Lancashire = North Merseyside; and Wirral (South Merseyside) may well be the same. In 2004 I produced an account ‘The freshwater fishes of Lancashire, Merseyside and Cheshire’ for the Lancashire & Cheshire Fauna Society and sought help from many sources, with 0 for Merseyside

The problem is that that is known as Merseyside is low, with lots of urban connurbation. Rural areas in the northern bit is mostly low lying acid peat farmland (= mossland in S Lancashire) and with very few streams. The largest, the Alt, is clean in places, but not trout water.

On Wirral there are even fewer streams, none with trout.

Note, however, that sea trout are now running the Mersey, though they are not catchable in the river here or the Ship Canal!

Sorry!

Malcolm G”

Malcolm Greenhalgh is both a naturalist and a fly fisherman. After reading biological sciences and researching estuary ecology for his PhD, he lectured for sixteen years before becoming a freelance writer on his fortieth birthday, and anglers will be aware of his prowess, and expertise from his many interesting and challenging articles in the angling press.

His view is supported by Tim Jacklin and Paul Gaskell of the WTT, and by Kevin Nash and Gareth Pedley of the EA…., as well as the officials of the many Angling Clubs in Merseyside with whom I have exchanged correspondence.

So…maybe my ‘Mission’ will not succeed, but this sad news is no reason to stop searching.

I could make angling history if…

WEST MIDLANDS

20 Friday Apr 2012

Posted by in West Midlands

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This tale is another example of how forums, or at least, Fly Fishing Forums, can work.

After a number of attempts at identifying a likely stream in this industrial area, I connected with thetrouttickler, who introduced me to the River Cole, because in December 2010, he was one of three local anglers who worked with the WTT, for whom Paul Gaskell conducted a Site Visit and wrote up his findings in a fascinating report which he, Justin, shared with me. It was known that the odd trout had been caught from the Cole, and Paul’s report directed me to where it was more likely that I might.  Both Justin, and his companion angler, Steve Williams offered to accompany me, which was comforting because both warned me that the river flows through a less than desirable part of the country, “The Cole can otherwise flow through some pretty built up and dodgy urban areas”….he wrote, and I should take note that in such a deprived area, Tonka, certainly would attract attention!

As, I imagine might a wadered individual….

So when I received a further email from thetrouttickler, which told me with some excitement that there might be another option, it was here, where I began to focus.

April 2012 – the Blythe

The Blythe is a lowland river in the Midlands which runs from Warwickshire, through the borough of Solihull and on to Coleshill. It runs along the Meriden Gap in the Midlands Plateau, is fed by the River Cole and is a tributary of the Tame, and it joins the Trent on its way to the North Sea at Humberside.  It is considered to be one of the cleanest rivers in England.

Running over clay, it is not a typical trout stream, and is known to hold a good head of tench, bream, rudd and barbel.

My venue was a stretch running through the land occupied by the West Midlands Golf Club, which thetrouttickler advised – “I don’t think the Blythe is a natural trout water, or the most perfect water for trout, but people do stock it…”  He continued – “The river has a coarse feel to it – slow and deep- but then there are shallower sections with riffle and gravel beds”

On arrival, I met the truly helpful, Nigel Harrhy. He advised that few fished the river. Also, that the beat upstream, leased to West Midlands Police, was stocked, as was the beat downstream, adjacent to the fabled Forest of Arden Golf Club, so why, he argued would some trout not migrate into his beat, which he does not stock. And that he could not remember trout being caught, or at least for a while! But I was there, so I had to try! And with a modestly priced day ticket, I was about to, with only similarly modest expectations, after my chat with Nigel.

The afternoon started sunny.

A walk to the bottom of the beat showed a gravelly run, and I optimistically tied on an Adams and began casting, but into a downstream wind which made presentation hard and often the fly landed my side of the fly line! But I sensed, nor saw any fish of any description, so walked upstream. Entering the water at the end of runs and casting into them I spooked a couple of fish which may have been chub, and amused some carp anglers on the adjacent Barston Lakes who told me there were no fish in the river anyway, but generously wished me “Tight lines , Mate” and went back to kneading boilies (or whatever they do!).

The weather was deteriorating a little, as I spied a likely run.

Here the river bends a little between two trees, runs over a gravel bar where it remains shallow to its left hand side, but has a hole under the roots of the stand of alder to its right hand side, and a back eddy just ahead of the same hole, where I noted a couple of little swirls. The waters shallow again down the length of the pool from whence I cast, up into the gravels where the pheasant tail nymph would sink, before tumbling along the bottom of the hole where I thought there might be a fish, or one lurking in the roots of the alder…

Only two or three casts later, a tug , a pull, a short struggle and a fish into the net…a chub of about  ¾ lb.

But still, I wondered, might there be what I am seeking in the same spot!?

So I cast a few more times, getting as close to the roots, as a growing wind would allow…until ‘Bang!’ and a take of an altogether, much more aggressive type. This chap did not fight like a brown, though, no waggling of the head, rather, and whatever it was, it torpedoed down the pool towards and past me, and headed to some roots. Leaning my rod to my left to apply a lot of side strain to keep him from the woody comfort, the 7ft, 4wt. Loomis bent alarmingly, more from my determination to get the fellow than his size, and when he came to the surface, I smiled a rainbow smile, as I realised I had another ‘county’ and a fish of about 2lbs.

Two more fish, small dace, and the weather which was ‘threatening’ all afternoon, finally collapsed, and the rains returned, for which I was pleased. Eight to go, and Tonka, intact!

Essex

09 Friday Mar 2012

Posted by in Essex

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Essex must be one of our flattest counties, so the chances of finding fast flowing, clear water holding trout must be slim.

My searches have been considerable, though, and various websites suggest that there may be trout in the Chelmer, and possibly in the Blackwater, and certainly in the upper reaches of the Cam near Saffron Waldon, where the Audley End Flyfishers have some water, but as you know the Cam has already featured in my ’journey’ and I would like to find a stream which is entirely in the County, if possible.

And then I discovered that the Billericay & District AC, a notable coarse fishing club, has beats on the Roding, the Stour, the Wid, and interestingly, the River Pant.  This stream rises on the edge of Debden Airfield in North West Essex, and flows toward Braintree, where its name changes to the River Blackwater. Andy Thomas of the WTT had already suggested that the headwaters of the Blackwater may have some trout, and so I guessed that the Pant is where he was suggesting.

The BDAC website claims that the Pant near Shalford does hold trout, so I thought I should join, and try to find out!

Well it’s a pretty stream and my first visit was in mid-Summer, for being predominantly a coarse fishing river, the riparian owners acknowledge the season as being from June to March, and by that time, the over growth was considerable on steep banks, and access to the water was limited, but fish were moving, although these turned out to be chub and dace.

My first and second visits were fruitless, so I wrote to Fishery Officer, Clive Gliddon, whose response has convinced me that persistence is necessary, and so I shall…persist!

Dear Tony.
With regards to your txt re Trout in the River Pant.
I personally have caught trout from the start of our stretch at Shalford Bridge downstream to our boundrary at Codham Mill.  All my catches were caught fishing for Chub, using maggots.
The trout are still there, as we have one angler who regularly fishes the river and catches.
I have seem Trout in the river as far upstream as Great Bardfield (my own village) Sizewise, my catches were small around 8 ozs etc , but I have heard of 1 Rainbow taken of just over 3lbs.
It appears the Trout got into the river from an old hatchery at Codham Mill

which closed many years back.
I hope this answers your question.
Kind regards
Clive Gliddon

GREATER MANCHESTER

11 Tuesday Oct 2011

Posted by in Greater Manchester

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Never thinking that the industrialised Greater Manchester could ever hold river trout, the revelation that one river did, en route to forming the Mersey, was thanks to the WTT’s Autumn 2010 Newsletter (see page 13).  Exchanges with Amanda Wilson, Hon. Sec. of the Disley & New Mills AC, revealed that my goal might be achieved by joining this 100 year old club, which I did!

Success in Nottinghamshire the day before buoyed me for this season end surge, and after overnighting in the very comfortable Pack Horse Inn in High Peak, and after a delicious breakfast of local bacon and sausage, it was off to the river.

Today I was flying solo, and, guideless, and  I overshot the mark, and found myself close to the Roman Lakes, and whilst the runs below the ancient (actually, seventeenth century) bridge were tempting, it was not only the steep descent to the river which was deterring, but the notion that I would be trespassing (aka poaching ) and a further study suggested that I was a mile or two downstream of where I should have been. So retracing my steps, it took only a short drive to put me where the DNMAC water was.

August 2011 – the Goyt

The Goyt tumbles off the Pennines, touching bits of Derbyshire and Cheshire, and collecting various tributary waters before it arrives at New Mills. A mile downstream and at the village of Strines, it enters the County of Greater Manchester.

It is latterly joined by the River Etherow, and then by the River Tame in central Stockport, where after a relatively short life, it is transformed into the River Mersey! Had many today, heard of the Mersey before Gerry Marsden immortalised it in song?

Strines is a very up-market suburb of Stockport/Manchester…maybe Gerry lives there on his royalties! It is very grand and has a trout stream below its manicured lawns, but it is difficult to access. My walk into and out of, an enfenced development of new houses,  sent me eventually past a decrepit tennis club, which saddened. A pavilion which I imagine could tell a tale or two, overlooking grass courts which have dislevelled through lack of attention, and four hard courts with so many weeds peering through the aging tarmac, that the whole area resembled a post holocaust event. Maybe Hitchcock designed it…

The river at that point is well below the fields adjoining it. But, I had perfected the technique for reaching it, after a season of fishing high banked and often, secluded and narrow streams, strewn with overgrowth.

1  Put the rod, which must be protected at all costs, within reach of an upward ultimate retrieve

2  Look riverward, and standing just above the chosen descent route, drop down in athletic surprise  and bend the knees more than you thought you could, then rock backwards and fall slowly and gently onto the buttocks..then, and with no discernible ceasing in the total motion, rock forwards, and legs outstretched, lean outwards and slide down the green sward on said buttocks…hoping that, either, the rocks below, are stable enough to absorb the impact of the aging weighty frame, or, the water is shallow enough not to drown in.

[The pressure on the wader seams is considerable, and repeated performance of this manoeuvre confirms the benefit of having a tube of Aquaseal to hand, and it dries quite quickly, too]

3 Then, look up and back and retrieve said rod, and commence fishing…

Easy!  But, only God knows how the older members of DNMAC manage this challenge! It’s a twelve foot drop into their river!

On the Goyt, to begin with the water colour confused me. The peaty brown flows at this point were so concentrated, that they belied what was quite shallow water. So my NZ rig, snagged often. No matter, because when the first rise showed, it was onto the dry.

IT IS IMPORTANT I MAKE A SIGNIFICANT DECLARATION AT THIS POINT.

IT IS OFFICIAL…I have too many flies in my box(es), and THE ONLY DRY FLY I NEED IS THE WONDERFUL  ‘ADAMS’…it is ubiquity, personified, and I love it. I guess we all default to a fly with which we fish with confidence, and whilst I wish my entymology was better honed, I still rate this fly enormously.

And whilst casting into the long flat pools required care, the fish were feeding and cared little about the odd splash of a cast where my right arm came down too fast and  low, and missing several serious plunges onto my fly, I nevertheless and quickly, netted a couple of 12” fish,


and Greater Manchester, at the same time.

It’s good stretch, this DNMAC beat. The quiet is disturbed only by the trundling of the odd goods train in the nearby viaduct, and it is a pretty, very pretty water. Access was hard, so was my exit…

I may have had to employ some ancient and forgotten gymnastics in finding my way back to Tonka Too, and I will strenuously reject any charge that I committed trespass in doing so…!!

I caught four fish that morning, and decided that an afternoon fish was in order, so after a picnic lunch at several hundred feet overlooking High Peak and in full and distant view of  the Pennine heather in all its pink and breathtaking glory, I set off to find the DNMAC’s beats on the River Sett (in Derbyshire).

Upstream of Watford Bridge near Thornsett,

three more fish came to the incomparable, dry ‘you know what’ on this narrow and intimate stream, and just made my day.

And I hope to meet the little blighters I missed, in a year or two!

The riverside here is un-strimmed  and not pristine, like  Southern chalk stream banks,  and  Himalayan balsam is alive and well. It grows to seven feet and more! At this time of year, it snaps as you flick it out of your path, in jungle warfare, seeking out another likely lie beyond its screen, and in doing do, you know you have done its prosperity, a favour, as its seeds are propelled to settle and land to germinate next year and occupy even more space and kill off (murder?) what we would rather see…Damn!

I think I even prefer nettles. At least they are ours!

The DNMAC handbook declares that fish in its waters are ’unfit for human consumption’. I do not doubt this assertion, but I observe that the Club has done much to improve its habitat ( see – http://dnmacgoyt.blogspot.com/ )and that  water quality today  is immeasurably better than when, and whilst the disgorgement of even recent times may have been unhealthy, this river system is in ‘great nick’ today. I had a thoroughly, great day, on a super fishery.

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

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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!

NORTHAMPTONSHIRE

02 Saturday Jul 2011

Posted by in Northamptonshire

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There is only one trout stream in Northamptonshire.  I am happy to share its history which, Secretary, Mike Palmer suffixes his emails with –

“The Willow Brook starts life in the industrial estates of Corby, Northamptonshire, and runs for about 15 miles until it enters the River Nene at Elton. Historically there has been heavy metal pollution from steel production until Corby steelworks closed in 1980. The steelworks took water from Eyebrook Reservoir for cooling and conveniently discharged it into the Willow Brook.

The first record of stocking with trout was in 1954 when Peter Tombleson, Editor of the Angling Times, stocked a short length near to his home at Woodnewton. Four years later The Willow Brook Flyfishers was formed and 3 ½ miles of river was stocked annually. This continued for the next 46 years until 2004 when an Advisory Visit from the Wild Trout Trust started changes in management which are ongoing. We have introduced a hatchery box, installed flow deflectors, cleaned gravel beds and ceased stocking in half of the water.”

Whilst the Willow Brook Flyfishers is a small club of just 30 members,

their generosity stretches to offering a two rod visit to their water in the WTT Annual Auction, and having missed out in 2010, I was determined not to, this year, and thanks to the wizardry of e-sniper, did not!

[Forgive me for recommending the IT way of winning bids via on-line auctions, for as I see it, whilst bids may rise higher than some would consider reasonable, there will always be two winners, which is rare….and by the way, the WTT is making a big difference in my view]

Mike ‘hosted’ my visit thoughtfully, suggesting that we walked parts of the beats in the late afternoon, prior to an evening fish, and after supper in The White Swan…and a good pint of local ale! But first things first.

A short drive to the most beautiful village of Fotheringhay, in the grounds of which Abbey, Mary, Queen of Scots was executed in 1587 on the orders of Queen Elizabeth 1…and my first sighting of this pretty brook. Clear, limestone, narrow, waving weeds, overhanging trees…the odd dart of a disturbed juvenile, spied between high nettles and dying cow parsley and grasses on the set aside of a farmer with whom the club has a symbiotic relationship!

And   Chub…some of the biggest I have seen were cruising quietly, while around them, busy dace were sipping off the surface. We walked three parts of the water, and Mike shared his knowledge of his water and I sipped on this as busily as the dace I was not interested in!

I picked up a ridiculously obvious tip from him…look in the spider webs to see what is hatching…how long have I been fishing? My sense is that Mike defaults to nature and rejects the current nonsense that fly pattern is unimportant, and secondary to precise presentation of whatever takes your fancy! He is mainly, like me, a dry fly fisher.

So supper with Mike and Ian Canadine, was followed by an evening fish, which for me, wading upstream from the bridge below Martins Farm produced five uninvited dace onto my carefully presented elk hair caddis, and a growing sense of frustration when I never thought any of the rises I cast to, were to the spotties  I sought, that produced these slippery, silvered, delicately rouged finned, little ‘coarse’ devils.  And a quick drenching rain shower improved nothing, nor did the winds nor the fading light in which I had to rework my leader, spoiled by too long back casts into the enticing grasses behind and beside me,

nor did the returning Ian, who had a 3lb chub AND a 10” wild brown on a black klinkhammer…maybe Northamptonshire was not ready for me?

The highlight of my evening was an excited Mike, who, seeing fish moving in riffles somewhere below the Farm bridge, with spent olives afloat, caught a ‘small’ brown…..and then….the largest brown he has taken in all his years on his water. He was justifiably excited. A fish of more than 18”, weighing in, at close on 3lbs, and taken on a Sherry Spinner. He was beside himself…who would not have been? And a celebratory pint at the White Swan (albeit rather late) seemed reasonable, as I considered ’tomorrow’!

‘Tomorrow’

It was dry, sunny and only a little windy, and in those conditions, Mike had suggested that I worked the bottom of the water on the Nassington Road stretch, where for the right handed caster, the trees offered some protection from the westerly winds. A walk some quarter of a mile and I was into the water and hopeful. I saw some lovely chub, and some frisky shoals of dace, and at least two small trout which saw me long before my first cast to them.

Wading varied from 6” over gravel, to waist deep on the edge of bends where fallen trees had scoured out silt edged deeps, and care was essential. Bravery was important because the options were limited, and even within a six foot breadth, it was either  a nettle attack escape, or a watery, over the top of the waders soaking….all fishers know what I mean. But in such small waters, this is always  a surprise, and in particular, when seconds before you were treading on wet ranunculus, and wondering where the fish were!?

Any way…I caught nor rose a single brown. But added to my catch of the now, dreaded, dace! And saw more Chub (there were some serious specimens below the bridge here), and began to wonder if it was not to be!

So I drove back to Woodnewton, and began to cast into the interesting runs and deeps there, and it started to rain…hard…and even hiding under leafy fronds could not stop me from a right soaking. But when, eventually the clouds passed (for twice I ventured, prematurely, from my hideaway, and twice more a soaking!) I walked down to where, on the previous evening’s tutorial, Mike showed me where his team had manhandled one hundred tons of gravel to create new flows and breeding grounds. These were not pebbles, but stones and the work effort that must have been needed to create this stretch was massive. Wading to it, I noted the swirl of a fish in shallows at the top of the bar, that did not look chub-like! Tail fin out of the water, was it raising caddis from the stones, perhaps? To the outside of the gravelly mound, revealed by low water, in the faster run under the left bank, two fish scattered upstream when they saw me. And there’s was not chub like flight. But there was movement and some feeding no more than a decent 15 foot cast away…probably not the frightened, and my second cast, with a yellow klinkhammer at the serious end produced a ferocious take, and an excited prospector, knowing he was in danger of achieving what he came to achieve, netted a 14” Northamptonshire fish, when the same prospector thought that a ‘blank’ was most likely.

The rain was followed by bright sunlight, and this must have had the awakening effect on the river that a shower can…31 now!

I am immensely grateful to Mike, who as a result of our fishy conversations, and who, in admiring my lovely Moreno rod, must have realised my interest in such aspects, thought to write to me with information on where to buy the silk lines and furled leaders he uses, which I now will do. Will these help me catch more fish…probably!  And even if I don’t, my pleasure in using materials which our forebears used, will connect me with our influences.

Thank you, Mike

…thank you Willow Brook Flyfishers, and cheers to the WTT.

And….a thank you to Judy and Rod, for a very comfortable overnighter at the lovely Bridge Cottage

RUTLAND

20 Friday May 2011

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Is Rutland a county?

Well, it was, then it wasn’t, and now it is!

That’s democracy for you and an “up yours” to Westminster (see Musings 10.5)

But it is a VERY small county….and with a trout stream?

In 2010, that I spotted that, one Andrew Flitcroft offered a day on his beat on his Rutland stream to the successful bidder for a lot in the WTT Annual Auction, that I realised there was such an opportunity, and probably the only one. My own bids came to nought that year, for I had then not heard of ‘sniping’!

But I wrote to Andrew, anyway, at his office in Peterborough and he kindly agreed to host my visit the following year, this one, and I had offered to send the WTT what I had bid, as a thank you, if he would be so kind to accommodate me.

May 2011 – the Gwash

The ‘OK Diner’ on the A1 just upstream (north) of Stamford was our meeting place.

And so we met. Don’t you find that on meeting, you know instantly that you will like someone, and that you will enjoy their company…and so it was at 10 am that day, and so it proved to be the case. I suppose I am motivated by enthusiasm and energy and commitment, and Andrew has these qualities in spades.

He has a long lease on a piece of water, in one place adjacent to, but in the main downstream of the Gwash Fishing Club’s water, and it is fed by pipes at the base of the dam at Rutland Water ensuring a steady flow of cold water which remains so, constantly through the year, delivering a consistency to his stream.

When Andrew first walked the mile or so of water he now has, what he saw  must have excited him as much as it daunted him. He was greeted by fallen timber, heavy overgrowth, little light, sparse vegetation, slow moving water, deep silted margins, un-protected banks where grazing sheep or cattle could add to the woes of this water…but he saw wild brown trout, too. And it could not have been fished for years, and he saw an opportunity to create something special. Over the winter months of the past few years, he and a small number of friends have begun the recreation of this place.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The stream has distinct sections. The banks on the upper reaches are clearer, running as they do through meadow and space owned by a school for special needs children, but the fish are easily spooked. The lower beat is unworked and still unfishable, massive overgrowth, still to be cleared….but the middle section…!?

This is a meandering ‘wonderland’ of difference, because you never know what to expect around the next bend in this pretty stream.

It could be a long pool, a short run, a flourish through a groin, or a deflector, and surrounded by wild flowers, and enough cover for fish to be confident, and enough bank side foliage for the angler to have to concentrate.

The fish are wary though, and Andrew, reminding me of the need for stealth, often had me be casting from a way back, and the roll cast was often required, too, in the tighter lies. Weed growth is coming on, but to Andrew’s disappointment, lowish water has left some weed covered by algae, and the brightness of weed growth will not be revealed until rainfall flushes the algae away.

The fish are quick and several were missed by ‘yours truly’ but an optimist, by nature, Andrew assured me there many more to come, and so there were, and a couple came to net early on my new favourite fly, #22 Adams, along with a few more misses!

The work that Andrew’s small syndicate has undertaken uses the materials which have revealed the stream as it is today, so that except for the odd piece of angle iron anchoring a flow deflector,

what you see comes from the river side and looks completely natural rather than man made. Plenty of scouring runs have been created, but the silt remains in the margins and will, until washed, or blown away.

Then, his stream will look resplendent. However, what is there today is a minor miracle and has been achieved in only five years of dedication. It is a treasure……and is Rutland’s only trout stream.

HERTFORDSHIRE

16 Tuesday Nov 2010

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Now, Hertfordshire was always going to be difficult !

But the internet, and patience prevailed, and whilst there may be other better waters such as the Chess which flows through Latimer and Rickmansworth, access is through members only clubs, except in the Recreation Ground in the latter…a daunting prospect, made no more attractive by Charles Rangely-Wilson in his ‘Accidental Angler’ TV series, when he sought an Inner M25 trout. But…through the website, www.flyfishingvenues.co.uk, I discovered –

September 2009 – the Ver.

Redbournbury Fishery, just north of St Albans, is in the narrow headwaters of this stream which flows into the Colne at Bricket Wood, just inside the M25, near to is junction with the M1.

The fishery is the retirement, labour of love of John Dunkley, who is creating an outdoorsman playground, offering rainbow, and coarse fishing in two lakes adjacent to the little Ver, and clay shooting.

The catch and release only, stream (littered in part with spent clays!) was stocked with browns, some twelve years ago, but not since.  Narrow and heavily silted, and overgrown in the most part by long swaying grasses, it has to be waded and is best fished with light tackle and a short ro, mine, my favourite Loomis Trilogy. Casting accuracy is essential, and not easy on this wind blown flood plain. But there are fish there, but they are easily spooked, and my two juveniles fell to Cul du Canard (olive), in the riffle at the top end of the beat.

When John heard of my ‘Quest’, he refused payment, and asked only for a mention in the writing he felt sure, was likely. Nevertheless, I left a ‘note’ and a message that I had taken a couple of fish. Unfortunately, he took me literally, and an explanatory email winged its way to him quickly !

I wish John well with his determination to enliven this stream. It will need a lot of work to open it up and make it more fishable, and in stripping back the invading grasses and de-silting to encourage more weed growth and create breeding spots, he risks reducing flows dramatically, and a hot summer or two could wreck his ambitions. The WTT has advised him in the past, and they may be needed, again.