Monday 30 May 2016

Abandoned Car

Sunday saw me down the beck for a short session. Like the river the day before things looked promising with swarms of midges, and a few up-winged flies fluttering about. On my way down to the downstream end of the fishery More up wings were seen and even a few hawthorn flies, but nothing seemed to be rising for them.


Near the bottom of the fishery I spotted a couple of splashy  rises, but to what. With swarms of midges about that's what I tied on, in size 18. There was clearly more than one fish feeding in the pool as I made my way up. My fly was totally ignored by the feeding fish. Ensuring the point of the leader was not floating, I cast again and again with out disturbing the feeding fish. Thinking they may be interested in something more substantial I tied on a size 14 foam beetle, which again was ignored. Deciding to go the other way, I tied on a new tippet and a size 24 IOTBB which was taken first cast. A spirited little WBT somersaulted around the pool, sending one of it's companions up through the very shallow riffle at the top of the pool while, the other passed with in inches of my waders. Surprisingly, while unhooking this fish another was rising in the pool. After a couple of casts this was taken, only to come adrift after a couple of leaps. I waited a while, but nothing else stirred so moved on. Three more fish were hooked, but only one landed over the course of the next few pools.



By now I was getting rather thirsty and having left my drink in the car so headed back there. On the way back my phone rang. Worryingly it was the police, enquiring about my 'abandoned' car and asking me if I could move it to somewhere more suitable. Given there aren't any car parks nearby I wasn't sure where more suitable was, so I moved it further down the verge. As I didn't get any more calls about it I assume I'd got it right.

Drink in hand I wandered back downstream to where I'd left off and entered the water to be greeted by small trout flinging it's self out of the water in the pool upstream. This pool is one of only a couple in the beck that I can't wade through, even in chesties. Even though there was no sign of fly life there were a couple of fish rising at something. My little IOTBB was resolutely ignored as the fish rise around it. Eventually I noticed a little upwing struggling in the surface. A change to a CDC emerger produced a take on the second cast. It very quickly became apparent that this was a larger than average fish as it circled deep in the pool. It then had a sudden change of plan and shot past me, downstream, before performing the obligatory gymnastics. After which it came to he net quietly.

In the net one thing became apparent, apart from it's size, it was missing a pectoral fin and judging by the wound it was quite recent.  This is the second one I've taken like this in the last couple of years. Otter attack? I haven't seen any sign of otters here although they are on the main river, so it is possible. After a couple of quick photos and holding it in the stream to recover it seemed to swim off strongly, back into the depths of the pool. 


By now a rather strong and chill breeze had come up which was probably why I never saw another rise. Not a bad day at all.

Saturday 28 May 2016

All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go

Some of the targets I've set myself as an angler I achieved quite quickly. Others, like catching a 20+ pike on a lure have yet to be realised. As has catching a trout on dry fly from the stretch of river I fished today. I've caught them on dry in the upper reaches, where most of the fishing is controlled by ancient clubs with exorbitant entry fees and/or mile long waiting lists. I've caught them on this lower stretch on wets, nymphs, worms, minnows, spinners, plugs, even luncheon meat, but never on dry fly.

So when an acquaintance, who'd been working near the river, told me he'd seen fish taking mayfly I thought I may be in with a chance of breaking my duck. Mainly a still water fly angler, my acquaintance was also keen to have a go. So we agreed to meet up at the river late afternoon, when he'd seen the feeding trout.

I tied up a few generic hair wing mayflies to add to my usual collection of river flies just in case.


He was already at the river when I arrived and, not surprisingly, reported a lack of insects as sod's law had predicted. We tackled up and had a sit on the bank looking for a sign. As non was forth coming we decided to have wander upstream looking for action. Non was seen, despite the occasional flurry of insects nothing seemed to be feeding on the surface. We covered nearly a mile and a half of river casting flies big and small at likely, and unlikely, spots before returning to the cars. While supping a cuppa we finally saw a rise. My acquaintance had a cast at it with a F-fly, which clearly terrified the fish as we didn't see it again.

We called it a day, as it was getting too dark to see the fly and arranged to have another go next week.

Sunday 22 May 2016

Mayfly Bonanza

Went down to the local beck for a another short fluff chucking session today. Like last week, the place looked initially devoid of fish and fly life. This time, however, I'd remembered my polaroids, with their help I was surprised to see several shoals for fry and a couple of small shoals of gudgeon.



With no sign of any insect life on the water I started with a APT, All Purpose Terrestrial,  as I'd tied a few up. Casting it ahead of me, as I waded upstream, proved fruitless. After various changes of fly and no sign of rising fish anywhere I was nearly back at the car when I came across a swarm of midges and a rising fish. This took the same pheasant tail ginger dry I'd used last week. Just out of reach it jumped and flipped it's self of the hook as it jumped.

Around the next bend I spotted a couple of mayflies, which were taken in quick succession.  The fly was taken the moment it hit the water by what felt like a decent fish. This was confirmed when it performed a spectacular cartwheel before the line went slack. Cursing to myself I retrieved the line to find the fly missing. The tippet had gone about half way along it's length. I can only assume there had been a wind knot as there was a little kink at the end. Thankfully I was using a de-barbed hook so the fish should be able to rid it's self of the fly, and I need to change to a heavier tippet when I change to larger flies.

Monday 16 May 2016

What's That One Called

Having not fished for over a month, I took my self down to a local beck for a couple of hours fluff chucking on Sunday.

Parking at the upstream end of the section I intended to fish I made my way down to the mid point of the section. The bits of water I looked at looked remarkably lifeless, no insects about any where and no fish, even minnows could be seen. Some days any bit of fur and feather can catch fish here. Other days even worms can fail. I only carry a couple of small fly boxes for little becks like this, ten foot wide at most, with about a dozen, or so, dry patterns in one and a similar amounts of nymphs and wets in the other. With no obvious fly life about I started of with a Grey Duster, a nice nondescript little fly. With no sign of anything rising I cast it to likely looking spots while steadily wading upstream, the high steep banks preventing fishing from the bank.


Eventually I came across a swarm of midges and a couple of fish taking the rather noisily. Despite covering the nicely my fly was ignored, a change to a small black hackled beastie produced the same, non, result. Staring at the fly box hoping for inspiration, the two little trout continued to take the midges with rather splashy rises. For some reason I picked out a ginger hackled dry that I had no idea of the name of or why it was in the box. Some divine inspiration must have been at work as it was taken the moment it hit the water, much to my surprise. Instead of just lifting in to it I struck with great vigour, dragging the fly from it's mouth. 



Thinking I'd scared both of, I started to wade upstream when the other fish rose again. A rather clumsy cast saw the fly land a foot down stream of it. As I gathered in the slack line the fly disappeared. A tug of the line and I was in contact. Leaping well clear of the water it throw the hook. Oh well, at least the choice of fly was correct.

I continued upstream throwing the odd speculative cast at likely looking spots before finding another fish or two rising noisily for midges. First cast and the fly was grabbed, but failed to contact. A couple more casts and I was into a very acrobatic little trout, which despite it's size put up quite a struggle.




That sadly this was the last of the fly life I saw as I made my way upstream. With no insects on the water I changed to a foam beetle, casting it close to tree roots and over hanging vegetation. All to no avail. By now it was getting a bit chilly so I called it a day. Given there isn't an abundance of trout in this little beck I was quite pleased with the result.