Author: Nigel Rainton

The river level had dropped and the weather forecast was good for fishing. Warm, overcast and a west wind. Everything looked good for a walk along the river. Last season, in late October, I was picking ripe blackberries at Perryfields and there were lots of fish about. This year, in early October, the blackberries have all gone and the Trout are hard to find.

I went to Rotherbridge and had a look through the bars on the parapet of the bridge. I could see the bottom of the river and a few bits of yellowing weed hanging in the current. The water had a nice greenish tint and looked great. A fish rose amongst the bushes below the bridge and I decided to stay there and try to catch that Trout. Very ambitious. I tackled up beside the Land Rover and crossed the bridge to fish from the north bank. I remembered ‘The Incident with the Trout in the Bush’ last October and didn’t break any of the dead stems. I saw a small trout circling around under the bush on my side. I flicked a weighted Black Nymph upstream and let it drift. The leader started to sink very slowly and I resisted the urge to lift the rod. It sunk a little more and I tightened into the fish. It fought downstream and I got it in the landing net without a problem. As I released it another Trout rose under the bridge.

I walked back across the bridge and cast down and across to the sandy shallows. After a couple of casts the leader dived under and another small Trout dashed about amongst the sparse weeds. It became snagged on a bit of weed close to the bank and I thought it would wriggle free. I managed to net the fish, unhook and return it without any problems. I had caught two fish in under thirty minutes. I fished from the south bank below the bridge for a while but didn’t get a take. A rain cloud rolled over the Downs and across the field towards me. I could see the rain advancing so I retreated to the Land Rover and had a can of Coke.

The sun came out and I walked upstream to the New Riffle. The banks had been strimmed and the gap in the trees above the riffle was open again. I rolled the fly line across the pool, being careful not to hit the trees with the rod tip. As the line drifted downstream I saw a Trout rise just above the gravel ridge. I drew the line towards me and steered the fly over the fish. To my surprise it came up, took the fly and spat it out before I could react. I tried to roll the line out again but the cast was splashy and the Trout disappeared.

I saw a large Sea Trout jump in the middle of the riffle and worked the pool for thirty minutes but there was no response. I moved downstream and found another Sea Trout just upstream of an Alder bush. That fish ignored the nymph. Rain clouds were building and I walked back towards the bridge. I couldn’t resist one last cast in the pool above the last Alder tree. A good Sea Trout took the fly, jumped and slipped the hook. My shoulder was painful so I wandered back to the Land Rover and left the river. I had caught two small Trout but it should have been four. Nevermind.

I returned from Somerset to find the river level dropping and an overnight storm dwindling into bright Autumn sunshine. The end of the season is only a few weeks away and I wanted to take every opportunity to fish the river. The north-west wind would be a problem but most of the streamer weed would have died and been washed away by the high water last weekend. As I drove slowly over Coultershaw Bridge I was surprised to see that the water was very coloured. I walked along the bank of the side stream below the Fish Pass. The stream was crystal clear and I saw a shoal of small Dace dash away from me. The streamer weed had all gone but the water was too swift and coloured to winkle out a Trout or a Chub. I visited Keeper’s Bridge but the shallows above the bridge were also unfishable and I decided to spend the afternoon at Luffs.

I sat in the sun on the bench at the top of Little Springs and watched the water, nothing moved. Similarly, Great Springs looked uninspiring. I had lunch at Luffs, a bacon and egg roll and a pint of beer. I looked out from under the trees, watching for rising Trout. I didn’t see any but I was confident that I would catch at least one fish. The wind was swirling around, mainly from the north-west but the mature trees funneled it down the lake. I stood downwind of the Willow tree and watched the wind put a nice curve in the line. It dragged my GRHE nymph slowly from left to right. After thirty minutes covering the water I felt the line start to drag and lifted into a fish. It was a Roach, the usual precursor to a take from a Trout. I expected a savage take at any moment and kept my concentration going by watching the tip of the line and checking my reel for loops. Nothing happened and I moved upwind of the tree. I worked hard but didn’t get a take. I sat on the bench by the sluice and tried a Partridge nymph. I saw a fish rise close to the bank on my right but I couldn’t tempt it.

The setting sun was golden and there were hundreds of young Pheasants pecking at acorns on the road. I packed up and went to Lower Figgs to see if the water level had dropped. The lake would be drained and dredged before the start of next season. Ironically, a good fish swirled close to the overflow.

There had only been a brief shower of rain in Newdigate but the river level had risen to 0.038m and continued to rise. How could that happen? The Rother valley is not saturated, the Greensand should soak up the odd shower. It was very annoying. I’d waited patiently for three days but I probably wouldn’t be able to fish the river.

When I got to Rotherbridge I looked through the railings, the water had a green tinge and was moving faster than normal. I could just see the roots of the streamer weed below me but the river was rising and I was not optimistic. There had been about an inch of rain overnight at Petworth, hence the reading on the gauge.

I had a leisurely lunch at Great Springs watching the Trout jump. A couple of fish were feeding but the majority were trying to shake off lice. After a walk around the lake I drove to Luffs and set up my rod. The water was calm and lifeless but I was confident of a fish or two. I walked around the road end of the lake looking for feeding fish but saw nothing except small Roach. I started fishing beyond the Willow tree because I’d found fish there on previous visits. I’d prepared the tackle carefully. The knots were good and the tippet unblemished. I made sure the line was not looped on the reel and trod down a few weeds around my feet where the loose line would fall. I’d tied on the Partridge nymph that I had created for fussy Trout. Everything was set, I just needed a take.

A gentle breeze put a curve in the fly line and I let it swing round to my left before recasting, Arthur Cove style. There was a very strong take and the fish headed for the far bank. I gave line and was careful not to touch the reel. The fish jumped several times and then continued down the lake. I was almost at the end of the fly line, the fish was nearly thirty yards away. I gained a little line but the fish took it back. The Trout relaxed and I coaxed it towards me, it kited into the trees on my left. Then the fish turned and found clear water infront of me. It had exhausted itself and was soon in the landing net. I was surprised at it’s size, I had estimated it between three and four pounds when I saw it jump but it was exactly 2lb 8ozs. It was a chubby fish in excellent condition.

I moved down below the Willow tree as a couple of Trout were feeding up and down the centre of the lake opposite the gap in the trees. The Partridge nymph was floating on the surface for a few seconds before the fluorocarbon leader dragged it under. I saw a small Trout head towards the fly, rise in the water and nose the fly before rejecting it. I cast again but the fish only gave the nymph a cursory glance and disappeared. The tippet was floating and was easily seen. I changed to a lightly weighted GRHE nymph which would sink slowly and pull the tippet under. I presented the nymph several times and the fish showed some interest but wouldn’t take.

I had a few casts from the road bank and over the dying weedbed by the boat but the Trout had stopped rising. No doubt disturbed by my casting. I packed up and drove back via Loxwood to avoid Billingshurst. It was a lovely drive.

The still, crystal clear morning suggested a hot Summer’s day but the BBC weather forecast said otherwise. Cloudy with a brisk south-westerly wind. The river level had dropped to 0.39m and everything looked set for a lovely day wandering along the river.

I had tied some delicate nymphs with Partridge hackles. They would be something different for the educated Trout that are the legacy of catch and release. I drove to Petworth with an open mind about where I would fish. The catch returns at the Fish Pass told me the Beat hadn’t been fished for three days probably because the river level was high. I crept around the Fish Pass and saw a few small Chub and a Trout. The Chub melted away into the remnants of the streamer weed. Swallows were swooping down across the weir pool snapping at small flies. I decided to start there and move to another Beat if I couldn’t find any Trout.

The water in the weir pool was a little cloudy so I started with a Black Nymph, the dense colour of the fly is easier for the fish to see. I worked the fly slowly through the deep water under my bank. After a few casts a fish rose in the middle of the pool and I quickly dropped the nymph slightly upstream of the ripples. I watched the tip of the line and saw it start to sink. It sunk very slowly as if the fly had caught a weed frond. I lifted the rod, the line continued sinking so I tightened and the fish was hooked. It kept very deep and moved slowly like a Chub. The odd take and lazy struggle convinced me it was a Chub so I was surprised and pleased, to see a wild Trout of about 1lb come to the surface. The fish was fin perfect and had no marks in it’s mouth. It dived into the weeds when I lowered the net to release it. My biggest wild trout this season.

Catching a Trout in the weir pool removed the pressure to avoid a blank and I took my time exploring the narrow stretch below the first bend. I was sure that I would get a take but nothing happened. The wind was strong and ruffled the surface. If the Trout were following the fly I couldn’t see them. I reached the junction with the stream that flows under Coultershaw Bridge. The wide shallow stretch always produces a fish. I changed to an unweighted fly and flicked it out into midstream. As I drew the fly up over the dying rushes a large Trout grabbed it and dived into the weeds. I knew it was a good fish and I wasn’t in a hurry. I eased it out of the weeds and encouraged it to move into midstream. After a long, arm aching struggle I netted it on the first attempt. A beautiful clean fish with an enormous tail. It weighed about 2lb 8ozs, possibly a bit more. It recovered quickly and went back into the weeds.

I fished hard for another hour and although a Sea Trout jumped for the camera, I couldn’t get another take. I tried my new Partridge nymph but in the slightly coloured water it was almost invisible. I’ll try it again when the water is clearer. A large Buzzard circled over the field across the river. The young Pheasants were well hidden in the Himalayan Balsam and stinging nettles.

I returned to the Land Rover and drove back via Pulborough to avoid the roadworks at Billingshurst. I was tempted to visit Bury Hill as the clouds and sunlight were spectacular but I was too tired, next time perhaps.

The early morning north wind and overcast sky confirmed the arrival of Autumn. There had been light rain over the weekend, enough to keep the river level from dropping back to normal.  By the time I left for Petworth the sun was out and the sky was full of fluffy white clouds but the wind had an edge.

I peered through the railings at Rotherbridge and was relieved that I could see the sandy bottom and the roots of the decaying weeds. I stood and watched the river for half an hour but no fish showed themselves. The water had a brisk flow and was slightly coloured but not enough to prevent the fish finding a nymph.

I visited the Fish Pass and saw a few Chub and Dace in the fast water below the bottom pool. The fish disappeared into the streamer weed when I positioned myself to take some photographs. Several good Sea Trout had been hooked and lost during the recent high water and some big end of season Trout had been caught from the bottom beat. However, the bottom end of the river didn’t inspire me, I decided to fish the upper beats and drove to Taylor’s Bridge.

I had tied some size 14 GRHE nymphs to replace those lost during recent trips. I hadn’t included any lead wire, the only weight was the copper ribbing. I started at the big pool at Ladymead. I concentrated hard for about thirty minutes but there were no signs of life. On the way back downstream I scared a young Cormorant from the deep pool below Ladymead, that explained the lack of Trout. It seemed reluctant to leave, looking back at me over it’s shoulder as it flew up over the trees.

I wasn’t confident about the pools by the bridge so I started fishing again near the Oak tree at the top of the straight. I systematically explored the water with a Black Nymph to no avail. I thought the next pool looked promising and reeled in slowly anticipating a take on the retrieve. It worked. A small, wild Trout took the fly close to the nearside rushes and dashed upstream towards me. It looked about a pound in weight and came off before I could get it under control.

I walked down to the Shallow Pool where a new cattle drink had been dug. The top of the pool was quiet but while fishing the middle, I saw a good fish rise just opposite a bed of rushes. The fish took a fly from the surface. I couldn’t see anything hatching but worked a dry fly down the run a few times. The fly dragged, my presentation was hampered by the rushes. I changed to an unweighted GRHE nymph and before I could cast, the fish rose again. I put the nymph slightly upstream of the rise. As the nymph swung across the current the Trout took it and dashed down the pool. I was determined not to lose the fish and took no risks. I lead the fish upstream in mid current and played it from the cattle drink. I unhooked it in the net and released it.

I tried the Monster Pool and the Long Pool but there were no signs of fish. As I walked back upstream I saw a good Trout rise under the newly pruned Alder tree. I couldn’t find enough room to cast downstream so I crept below the fish and cast a nymph upstream under the branches. I think I overcast and lined the fish. It didn’t rise again.

I went back to the Land Rover, had some Wine Gums and a drink then drove home content that I had caught a nice fish in demanding conditions.