South West Water’s lack of maintenance deprived the village of water over the Easter holiday weekend. On Tuesday the pubs and schools closed and the River Walkham provided buckets of water to flush the loo. Last week’s spate had washed the rivers clean and the conditions were ideal for a visit to the Tavy. The Defender lurched around and scraped the diff on the rocky path down to the river, normal cars won’t make it.

The river was up a few inches but running clear. Blue winged olives were hatching, midges covered the surface of the water and the occasional mayfly struggled into the trees, battling against a stiff upstream breeze.

I started at the top of the beat and worked a wide riffle, confident that I would find a trout or two. The white water, the seams in the bedrock and the slacks produced nothing. My casting was good, the Sage #3 and Rio line worked well together. I moved downstream to the pool below the dead tree and spent an hour watching the water and searching around the boulders that litter the pool. Nothing.

The hatch intensified and I was sure that a trout would take the nymph at any second. I fished a couple of long, wide riffles but the water was a little too fast and I went back upstream to sit beside my favourite pool. I found a large smooth rock to rest my back against and sat in the sun for an hour waiting for a rise. It didn’t happen.

I think I started too early. I should have waited until the evening. I visited Big Pool after packing up, the water looked perfect. When I got back to my cottage the taps were still dry but I had a bottle of wine. Water into wine. Excellent.

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