Precipitation

It is raining very hard here in Somerset. It has been doing so for a couple of days now. The ground was saturated already so this lot has just flooded all the rivers in short order.

There will be no fishing for a while on the Levels for pike and grayling fishers trying their luck on The Exe are doomed to failure as there is just too much water.

Shame really. I quite fancied a bash at the grayling. Not to be put off I went north west and tried the Irfon at Llangammarch Wells. Still a lot of water, but at least it was running clear. I got back today having caught nothing except an out of season brownie, that still managed a great scrap and would have been around the 1lb 8oz mark, so a real cracker.

I also got very wet.

Any way not to worry. It was great fun.

Organised I Am Not....Usually.

Call me organised if you like, but I have decided to look into next year's fishing already. Well actually I have been spurred on to do so by a very serendipitous meeting on the banks of the River West Dart yesterday.

Allow me to elaborate if you will. I had finished my business for the day and was contemplating my evening victuals, whilst driving at the required 40mph across Dartmoor - this was yesterday - and happened per chance upon a happy looking band of gentlefolk wearing green and studying the river. "Ah ha" thinks I aloud "I bet they are counting redds".

Redds, for those whose brains are full of much more useful information, are the grooves cut into the gravel by female salmon into which they lay their eggs. They are usually in the upper reaches of rivers. We who have time on our hands occasionally like to trot up and down a river bank taking note of them, usually looking in awe of the fish going about their business, so as to gauge the sort of spawning season it is likely to be. We do this generally for our own peace of mind as there is very little practical use to which we can apply the gathered information. Weird? Quite possibly.



 

Anyway, so I saw these green folk that looked like they might fish and, being excited by such things, slammed on the anchors to have a butcher's. I always carry my Polaroids with me, just in case I need to gaze into some water somewhere (not you'll notice in case the sun shines!!) and these, I surmised, would allow me to watch the fish that these chaps were obviously ogling unimpeded by glare on the water.

Needless to say, me being me, I couldn't see a single fish!

But still never mind, for here is the nub of the matter. The time it took me to see no fish was time enough for the aforementioned green clad folk to finish their contemplating and engage your correspondent in conversation and as it transpired, I am glad it was and that they did.

They were indeed redd counting. The party had been organised by the West Country Rivers Trust and consisted of several movers and shakers from the Dart Angling Association. I knew their names of course, having no doubt heard them mentioned at dinners and in angling pubs around the area, but didn't know them. They had never heard of me.

I told them of my interest in the fishing of the South West and of my little project which I call a website (http://www.fishingthewest.co.uk - it's not much, but it's mine and I like it) and they listened politely. They then told me of the Dart Angling Association and I listened intently.................well ok - excitedly then. They spoke of Totnes Weir and the lower Dart, of salmon and monster sea-trout and of fly water so inviting that to pass it by would be a crime against God and man. I decided then and there. I have to join.

It's funny how things happen.


Lovely spawning water on the Upper Dart

Have a look for yourselves at http://www.dartaa.org.uk

So there you. Being organised does not come naturally to me, but I do know a good thing when I hear it; and I do like green.

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Mud, Mud, Glorious Mud.

I went for an afternoon on the river Culm the other day; not the bit everyone knows near Cullompton, nor the lovely stretch at Willand which harbours just about every variety of fish commonly residing in an English river. No no. I went right up above Gladhayes Bridge near Hemyock, where the trout are wild and the stream is narrow.

I like to travel light. Not for this angler the waistcoats, bags and chest packs of the modern fly fisher. (Nor the baseball cap and baby blue shirt!!) With me I had a 7.5ft rod rated for a #3 line, a net, two tins of flies and some Gink. Actually the rod was almost too long as in places, where the trees envelope the water, a 6-footer would be more apt, but I had what I had. One tin had small dries within and one a range of daddies in various shapes and sizes. It's September - it's daddy time - I only needed the one box!

I managed to rise 7 fish, 6 of which I hooked and of those I landed 5. It truly was an excellent afternoon but one that would not have been half as exciting if I had not done a little preparation at home first.

 

Lots of us fishing folk spend time sorting flies before a trip. Some of us treat lines and oil reels (I only do this in the closed season by way of a "fix" to get me through.) But immediately before I set off on my trip I was mixing up something that would make the day a good one - some mud!

 

The wild fish of a small stream are easily spooked and all the creeping and delicate casting in the world won't help if your leader is floating on the surface. Floating leader = fleeing fish. The easiest way to sink your leader is to buy some leader sink and apply it regularly to your cast. It degreases, which is the key. Don't apply so much that it actually weights the leader or that might result in a heavy landing of cast and fly. It's a wipe on, wipe off type of deal - do it regularly, not heavily.

 

If you don't fancy buying this goo or like me have bought some mud type sinkant in the past which over the closed season has turned unhelpfully to solid clay, there is a way to make your own or rejuvenate old stock. Simply buy some cheap Fuller's Earth (calcium montmorillonite), or take your solidified previous purchase, and mix with a little washing up liquid. If it is old stuff you are trying to restore to a useable state, then a little hot water helps just to break it down. Mix the solutions really well and keep them on the dry side of paste then compact them into a small container and there you go.

 

This little bit of prep can make, as it did on my day amongst the Culm trout, all the difference..................................Here's mud on your fly!!

The River Culm Above Hemyock

PROOF!!

This was at Bellbrook Trout Fishery in Devon.

Enjoy.

Cherry, Not Black

I tootled up to Dartmoor the other day. I say "tootled" but it was more of a "sped" really as I was quite excited! I was excited because I had decided to fish the Blackbrook - the only Dart tributary that I have never fished.

For those that do not know, there are 25 odd miles of fishing on Dartmoor,  owned by the Duchy of Cornwall and on which one can flick a fly for a crisp ten pound note. Go to one of the many outlets selling day-tickets (some of them are hotels - with bars), hand over said tenna, consult an O/S map and then........ away you go. The main East and West Dart are easy to find and follow, but some of their tributaries are a bit more hidden and when you find one, unless you know the area, it is difficult to be sure which one you have found; thus I say the consult a map bit.

The first thing that will strike you, as it always does me even after having fished these waters for 20 years, is their clarity. One tends to forget that even when other rivers are the colour of tea, the upper Dart and tributaries are often as clear as gin. Actually more like a good whiskey because of the peat - but just like a decanter of Oban's finest you can see the bottom no matter how full it is.

 The Cherry Brook

This day, the day that I had chosen to fish the Blackbrook tributary, I parked in the little quarry below The Prince Hall Hotel, next to the Outdoor Centre, and tackled up.

The thing about small stream fishing is that you need next to nothing. A box of flies, a rod of course (6.5 - 7.5ft and rated for a #3 is good), a reel with a floating line, some tapered leaders and some low diameter tippet are pretty much all you'll need. Fish are rarely big enough to keep and so a priest or bass bag are unnecessary.

I put my very light weight waders on as selective and careful wading can be helpful to stay concealed and struck out across the moor.......................the wrong way. For some reason I turned left at the bridge and not right. I don't know why - I just did. Anyway it didn't matter as a left at the bridge brought me to the Cherry Brook, which is when I realised my error, and so, although I ticked it off many years ago, I fished up this instead. It's a lovely mixture of runs, deep pools and short stretches of pocket water where wee brownies of 6 - 12" hide away from the world and are only caught by those willing to work for them.

During the day black is best. Small and black. I chose a sz18 black gnat with a nice orange post that allows it to be tracked in the faster runs and was soon raising the odd fish. It was a sunny but windy day and the fly, even with the post was more difficult to see in the normally calm pools than in the faster water due to a ridiculously severe upstream ripple. If it hadn't been for this I may, just for shizzles and giggles, have gone to a sz20, and as the day moved to early evening I could have gone to a sedge pattern as there were a few about, but I couldn't be arsed so I just persevered with what I had on!

Moving from rock to rock and doing plenty of kneeling and quite a lot of slipping, tripping and cursing, in the less than perfect conditions, I managed a leash of 7" fish and a slightly larger one of about 9" (all beautiful) plus the usual parr or two and some weed. A very satisfactory day and a good test for my still recovering lung as I reckon I walked a good few miles over some rough and in places quite unnerving (for a short-legged chap such as myself) ground. I have to say I thoroughly enjoyed myself - but it doesn't take much.

Still haven't fished the Blackbrook though................................

All you can do is CHEW!

Last Saturday morning found me on the back lanes around Cheddar speeding towards Chew Valley Lake. I was, it has to be said, a bit groggy of head and tired of eye as it was only 7am and I had had a beer or two the night before, but towards Chew I sped none the less. I pulled up in the car park at half past seven - as it is my habit to sit and look at the lake for a while before the lodge opens at eight -and if there was ever anything that clears the mind it is sitting on the second bench behind the restaurant with a NE wind blowing straight down your shirt!

Sitting there shivering gives one time to contemplate tactics - a definite advantage over just sucking and seeing, especially when it is the first time on a water for the season as was the case on this day.

The lake looked very full and very featureless. Some waters just shout their best drifts at you with the slightest of glances, but not Chew, not today.

The Welsh Ladies Fly Fishing Team were there along with some of the Welsh Men's Team - no doubt practising for some very "important" competition in the near future - and a whole host of regulars.

When the boats set off everyone headed for the island or the bottom end of the east shore. We followed, as we had immediately forgotten everything the chap in the excellent on-site shop had told us, and it wasn't long before I hooked.........................and lost..................a couple of fish. We buzzed around the place looking for some takers, but those two pulls were it for the morning.  It appeared by lunch time that everyone was struggling and unfortunately that was the case for the afternoon too.

We tried the far southern end of the reservoir because, we reasoned, that that was where the food was ending up - unfortunately it was also where the wind was ending up! The swell was so bad that we soon realised why everyone had zoomed off in the opposite direction!

In the end, all I could think of to do was to move right in close to the island and fish amongst the trees and bushes around the margins - trees and bushes that would normally be well clear of the water but that today resembled the everglades of Florida. I had a three fly cast with a black hopper, to resemble the Hawthorns that were about, on the top dropper, a Diawl Bach on the middle dropper and a PTN on the point. We almost punted around the edge of the island casting into the nooks and crannies as if we were fishing for freshwater bass.

It worked and on a day when relatively few fish were caught before we left at 5 o'clock I was happy with my lovely 3lb specimen that fought like double its weight. Because of the shallowness of the place it took and all the snags it was a really exciting fight.

Chew is a fascinating water. Sometimes easy, often hard, but never boring and occasionally, like on this day, quite frustrating.

I do love it though.

Seek And Ye Shall Find

Very often at Wimbleball Lake it is a case of having to find the fish. The wind on Saturday was blowing from the north, that's the end with the bridge, but even so the local guru had indicated that Bessoms and Ruggs were still fishing well. These local guru types are like ghillies in Scotland and should be listened to on pain of death. So we listened and, at 9:00am on the nose, motored off up the lake toward Bessoms Bridge and Ruggs Bay.

It is notable this year that so far all the fish have been coming from very close in to the banks and so even though the wind was against us we were encouraged when we managed to establish a nice drift that took us down the shore of Bessoms, that's the bay below the bridge in the north arm, and then another that took us all the way from the top of Ruggs Bay, with the bird hide opposite Bessoms, past buoy number nine and down the western shore. So confident were we that we did the first drift twice and the second no less than three times, taking in all the water both sides of Blue Buoy No.9 (normally a great drift). We were working very hard with both floaters and sinking lines but by 2:30 we had precisely NO fish in the bag; the only high points being me connecting but ultimately losing a fish and my boat partner getting so distraught at his unaccustomed lack of success that he took it out on a bottle of beer which saw him almost remove his top lip with the resulting breakage..................but I guess you had to be there!

3:00pm found us around the corner at Cowmoor bay. This is as far away as you can go in a straight line from the end of the jetty at the boat moorings and the wind was blowing diagonally so that we could, with the help of the electric motor engineer a drift that took us from Blue Buoy No.5 all the way down the southern shore to the end. It was here that we found the fish and by 5pm, when I had had quite enough as it was pouring with rain and very cold, we had 11 fish between us!

The fish were not in a buzzery mood. It was blowing a whooly and raining and they were in a chasing frame of mind. The important thing about all this though is not the flies or lines that we were using (black tadpoles on both sinking and floating - it didn't seem to matter). It is the fact that we searched until we found the fish. 

Cowmoor is further down the wind than Bessoms, but not as far away as the Upton Arm, which was the most down wind area on the day, and so we probably should have gone there first (Cowmoor that is not the Upton Arm). We realised this afterwards.

I suppose we can learn two things from this day.

1. Local gurus are NOT always right
2. Don't give up

But then again - can we learn these - or were/are we just being reminded of what we knew already........

SEEK AND YE SHALL FIND

Another Fishing Moral

Good news for all you top-of-the-water fans. The Wimbleball trout have been enticed to the surface by the lovely weather that we are having and the amount of buzzers hatching at the moment and, as in most situations, your's truly has managed to winkle out a moral from this excitement.

On 24th March 9 of the 10 boats out were occupied by regular Wimbleball anglers who, normally quite rightly, fish lures on sinking lines until the weather and hatches bring the fish up in mid-April. The 10th boat was occupied by a couple of visiting gentlemen who thought that the weather would have brought the fish up, even though it was only the second day of the warm sunny conditions.

A Lovely Morning on Wimbleball Lake

The early morning was all about the lures. The bright sun meant that the fish were deep. However this was short lived and by lunch time the warming margins had brought the fish to within a few yards of the bank and they were taking buzzers with alacrity – only the only people that were aware of the fact were the two chaps in boat 10 fishing their floating and intermediate lines with Diawl Bachs and buzzers on the end. Enough fish were still taking the lures to keep the others occupied and it wasn’t until late afternoon when someone saw the rod of one them in a permenant state of “arch” that everyone cottoned on. By then the visitors had both caught their 7 and returned a further ten each!

It just goes to show that we can get too set in our ways, and the moral here is that it pays to fish according to the conditions and not just according to the water we are on. I am afraid I am one of the world's worst for this. Because I did it a certain way before and it worked, it is always this same way that I try, to the exclusion of everything else, even if the conditions dictate otherwise.

Having said all that – the lure boys on this occasion still did ok and one of them caught a double bag limit without changing his black tadpole/humungus combination all day; so it does cut both ways.

As for me - I spent the weekend at home with my throat infection and watched Zingzillas about 20 times with the boy!................................................................................................I quite like Zingzillas!!

Fresh Air Does Not Make A Cold Better

In my previous post I failed to mention that I was suffering from a streaming cold, a really bad throat and ear pain and that I thought the fresh air would do me good..............POPPYCOCK!!

Two days later and I have sinus, ear and throat infections, a temperature of 40 degrees and am thoroughly wretched and have spent 48 hrs incapacitated in my bed.

On second thoughts it way have happened anyway so it was probably best that I went out when I did as I'd have no chance now.......................................oh well then.

As you were...............

The Game's Afoot

At last at last, the trout season is upon us - and - after last year when I missed the entire shebang - I rejoice with all my heart....................well, the portion of my old myogenic pump that is left available for such, after similar jubilation for the start of the salmon season two weeks ago! The difference between the two occasions of course is that the amount of trout fishing in March that is available and worthwhile is legion and the amount of opportunities to catch a March salmon, at least here in Somerset, very limited. But all the same, I habitually celebrate both with gusto.

My first day this year was, unsurprisingly, arranged months ago. Clatworthy and it's 130 odd acres played host to my efforts on a beautiful sunny but cold and blustery day. A boat was cast-off and my little electric motor took myself and my fishing partner for the day across a rippled lake with every bit of power that its 54lb of thrust could summon. It took a while.

It was a wonderful day. We caught a few fish on lures and buzzers fished on slow sinking and floating lines, we lost a couple too, but laughed a lot and generally had a great time. Clatworthy is great. It has a lovely glass fronted lodge where sandwiches can be munched upon and tales exchanged with other anglers and a fleet of boats that feel very sturdy and safe. The scenery is fantastic, the level at the moment good and the fish fighting fit. I can thoroughly recommend the place.

So all straining upon the start has ceased and the game's afoot! Follow your spirit and upon this charge cry 'God for Harry! England! and St. George' ...............or don't bother with all that and just go fishing.

Here are some pics.

New Season....HURRY UP

It has been a long time, in blogging terms, since this fisherman and most humble of correspondents has posted anything, either of note or otherwise. There is a reason for this - I tend to....well.....blog as I do and, I am sad to say, due to a heady concatenation of circumstances, I simply haven't done. Anything. At all.

Because of my illness last year, when I couldn't fish, and because of my unbridled enthusiasm for spending time with my family, when I could,  I missed almost an entire season bar the couple of days at either end. These two facts and a few other less news worthy happenings meant that I didn't use many flies and so negated the need to tie any this winter and, as I don't really do small stillwaters I had nothing much to impart unto you, my reader (or possibly readers - if you haven't gone elsewhere for honey - as my father rather inexplicably is wont to say) - I certainly wasn't going to bore you with an opinion on "how to do" a certain something or other and there is little to report otherwise, for the Izzard family live a quiet life.

This season however there will be plenty of meat on the writing bone as it were, for I am going to fish. It has been a long winter but now the Exe is open for salmon (as of 14th Feb) and fish are being caught. It's only a few days until the Taw and Torridge also start giving up - and then having returned to them - their silvery bounty. On the 15th the trout season opens on our rivers and all the reservoirs are open by the end of March. All I can say is a massive whoop whoop to that.............................with bells on.

Advice wise there is only this, and here I am on safe ground as it is more of a reminder really; make sure all your kit is up together and working properly. Wash and condition those lines (or, if like me you can't be arsed then buy new ones!), oil and clean those reels and if you use an old freind of a rod maybe apply a little candle wax to the ferrules to aid their future reliability. Actually I was laughed at recently for suggesting the latter, but the old spiggott type ferrules really do grip better and wear less with a quick waxing every now and then. (It is not usually necessary on the overfit type.) Make sure too that your tippet and leader materials are not brittle and that your flies haven't been attacked by moths or mites or some other fur and feather munching thingy-ma-jig. 

I've done all of the above every week since October last year so I reckon I am ready to go.

TIGHT LINES all.