It was cold. An east wind, overcast sky and odd spells of sunshine, were perfect for fishing. I had an urge to fish the Abbey Beat on the Tavy.

I took the Hardy Perfect that I had rescued from a market stall. The water level was good and the deep wooded valley sheltered me from the cold wind. I paddled in the margins, flicked a nymph across the pool and let it drift under the overhanging branches. After twenty minutes of concentration I left the pool. A trout rose exactly where I had been fishing !

After another twenty minutes I gave up on the fish. A huge sea trout drifted downstream and disappeared in the riffle at the end of the pool. I walked to another, much deeper pool and worked the nymph beyond a sand bank. Nothing responded.

The woods along the river bank were carpeted with bluebells, pink campion and wild garlic. The garlic squeaked as I crushed it under foot and the scent was overpowering. Japanese Knotweed and Himalayan Balsam lined the edge of the river and restricted my back cast.

The rod performed well and I only lost one nymph in the trees. As I left the river trout were rising for midges and I regretted leaving my dry flies at home !

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