Author: Nigel Rainton

The morning was grey and chilly, not British Summer Time.  I went to Rotherbridge to meet Andrew and we discussed the previous week’s catch returns. I was then treated to a guided tour of the river below Coultershaw Bridge. It looked great but it was obviously hard fished. Later in the morning I parked my Land Rover at Keeper’s Bridge and walked slowly upstream looking for trout and noting the subtle changes to the river. The streamer weed was starting to grow and the water had a nice greenish tint. The catkins were emerging on the willow and alder trees. The sun was high in a blue sky and it was hot, about 60 degrees. I walked downstream to the new riffle. I saw a trout rise just on the bend below Keeper’s Bridge and another in the middle of the riffle. It’s only a week until the opening day on the river.

I had lunch at the lodge next to Great Springs and a long chat with another member.  I decided to go back to Luffs, it looked lovely in the spring sunshine.  I stood on the grass, looking at the lake, watching for rising fish.  I was directly under the National Grid cables. I noticed my left hand, holding my carbon fibre rod, was tingling. It felt like mild ‘pins-and-needles’. I was alarmed but reassured by my rubber Wellingtons. I touched the rod tip on the grass to earth it and the tingling stopped. When I raised the rod off the ground the tingling started. Static was building up in my rod. I decided to fish from the other side of the lake.

I sat on the bench near the willow tree and started fishing with a GRHE nymph. I had a couple of knocks on the fly but didn’t connect. I changed to an amber nymph but the fish had moved away. They are quite spooky. I met a new member and chatted while I fished. I moved around to the sluice and fished the amber nymph deep, casting into the wind. I had a solid take and the trout charged off up the lake, jumping as it went. It was a small fish, pulling well above it’s weight. The trout was foul hooked in the side and eventually came adrift. I walked back to Great Springs and after another cup of tea,  fished a Neoprene Buzzer from the point.  I hooked a good trout which took me through several weed beds before escaping. Probably another foul hooked fish. Soon after losing the fish I hooked another and bullied it away from the weeds into the net. It had been a long day so I signed out and headed for home.

It was a horrible morning. Cold, wet and very windy. The blustery wind was from the east but the weather forecast was for sunshine and moderate winds later in the day. I had a meeting in Petworth and also had a chance to inspect a 1920 fly tying kit by Farlows. I decided to take the Land Rover and my fishing gear just incase the weather improved.

The meeting was postponed and the sun had started to break through by early afternoon. I took my rod and landing net for a walk around the lakes. Luffs looked like a highland loch with big waves and a driving wind. I fished the shallow end for a while but although the water looked good, there were no signs of any trout. I moved along the bank below the willow tree and sat on the bench. It was difficult to get a line in the water, the wind swirled around and blew the back cast down into the grass. The first proper cast gave an immediate take on a GRHE nymph, the fish fought long and hard. I wondered if it was an overwintered trout. It wasn’t. I missed a couple of takes and decided to explore the bank by the fir trees at Lower Figgs. It was a relaxing walk in the sunshine, the trees along the edge of the moor sheltered me from the worst of the wind. There were a few fish rising at Lower Figgs but they were not impressed by my efforts and after an hour, I walked back to the club house.

The Farlows fly tying kit was a time capsule from 1920. The materials and tools were original. The black enameled box had kept out the moths, the fur and feathers were all in good condition. Since it’s purchase in 1920 it had been around the British Empire and then back to England. A very rare, valuable and sought after box of goodies.

Yesterday it rained all day but I visited the lakes and the river looking for signs of fish. The lakes are all spring fed. The trickle running into the top of Great Springs won’t sustain the water level through a long hot summer. It was sheltered at Little Bognor and the trout were rising. The spring filling the lake was flowing nicely and the gravel bed was clean. Good conditions for spawning trout. I’ve caught small wild trout at Little Bognor every season, they were all returned.

The river looked murky,  it had a muddy green colour. The Environment Agency monitoring station at Halfway Bridge measured 0.064m. That’s about a Wellington Boot above normal summer level. The wind was south westerly and a blustery 15 mph. I saw a trout rise just above Rotherbridge.

The Rother valley is a mix of greensand, clay and chalk escarpments. The problem with rain is that it washes nitrogen and phosphates into the rivers and lakes. The cereal and salad crops grow well on the sandy soil but spring top-dressing with Nitram is not good for the water. With little weed to remove these chemicals, the scene is set for algal blooms in the summer.

Today, during the drive to Petworth, I thought about where to fish. Great Springs or Little Bognor? A big overwintered brownie had been caught at Little Bognor. That opportunity had passed me by, it probably won’t be repeated. I decided on Great Springs. The water temperature was 12 degrees,  quite warm for March. I decided to use a dry fly, not because there were a lot of fish rising. Just to make it more difficult !

Great Springs looked lifeless but the fish were rising all over Little Springs. I had a cup of tea and set my rod up. I only took the dry fly box out of my bag. I sat on the grass well back from the water and flicked a neoprene spider at rising fish. They ignored it. I could see shadows cruising around, feeding on buzzers. I persevered with the dry fly and after about thirty minutes, I had a splashy take. I spooned the trout, it was full of buzzers. Not wishing to reach my self imposed limit of a brace too soon, I adjourned to the club house for another cup of tea.

Fish started rising on Great Springs but despite concentrating hard, I failed to get another take. I’d made it slightly too difficult.

I arrived at the Estate mid-morning. The south westerly breeze and hazy overcast were ideal fishing conditions. I was in no hurry to catch a trout and spent quite a while walking slowly around Great Springs with a cup of Darjeeling. Milk and two sugars.

There were no fish rising on the top lake but there were a few splashy rises on Little Springs where I saw the big brownie. I crept down the track to see if the monster was about. Although I was well back from the water and under the trees, the rise stopped. Had the fish seen me? I stood still and watched, nothing moved. The fish were aware of my presence.

I went to Cox’s and Jacksons for a look around and to take some photographs. Both lakes bore the scars of last year’s improvements but the new grass on the banks was hiding some of the raw clay. The water was slightly coloured but it looked as if it would clear when the bankside plants establish themselves.

I returned to Great Springs and sat in the sunshine for an hour chatting to another member.  The breeze had swung round to due west and the fish were moving, it was time to start fishing. I started with an amber buzzer but changed to a size 16 GRHE nymph after thirty minutes. I had a take from a roach but missed it. I walked round to the ‘island’ and sat on the bench by the point. A few fish were moving along the downwind bank. A fish rose ten feet from me, I flicked the nymph into the ripples, not expecting a response. The line drew away from me and my first fish was hooked. It was a short, very fat trout. I spooned it and found a few buzzers, the tiny nymph was a good imitation.

After a tea break I returned to the point. A willow tree on the upwind bank was shedding debris and a trail of catkins was blowing across the lake. Fish were following the wind lane and testing the debris to see if it was edible. I put the nymph in the path of the trout and had several takes all of which came unstuck because of the small hook. Delaying the strike resulted in a well hooked trout to end the day. A self imposed limit of two fish. It was another wonderful spring day, how long can this last?

It was a glorious spring morning, a bright blue sky with a gentle breeze from the north. It was a day made for trout fishing. When I arrived at the fishing hut I made a cup of tea and went for a walk around Great Springs. There were no signs of any trout, the water was flat and lifeless. I took my tea to Little Springs and slowly walked towards the end of the lake where I had seen the big brownie. A few fish were moving and a breeze ruffled the surface. It looked inviting. Another member was fishing at that end of the lake, I would return later. I went to Luffs for a look around. A heron jumped up from  the rushes and flew to the other side of the lake. It had been feasting on the frogs and toads spawning in the shallow water.

There were no trout rising at Luffs so I went across the moor to Upper Figgs. The lake looked lovely but I walked on to Lower Figgs. Another member was fishing from the south bank, he had hooked and lost a trout. I chatted a while and then returned to the fishing hut for another cup of tea. I eventually set up my rod and crept along the bank of Little Springs looking for dark shadows in the water.

I started with a Gold Ribbed Hare’s Ear but in the coloured water it was not a good choice. After thirty minutes without a take I swapped to a Black Spider. I fished from the point next to the south end of the lake and cast into the deep water. I let the fly sink about eight feet and had a few plucks. Then a positive take which I missed. Half way through a cast I saw a monster fish on the surface. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the lake. I continued working the deep water. Two trout came to the net in quick succession. The sun was burning and I decided to celebrate with lunch, a banana and another cup of tea.

Later in the afternoon the trout went mad, taking buzzers off the surface. I watched another member take a fish just under the surface but decided to limit myself to a brace. The monster trout, an over-wintered brownie from 2014, will probably be there next time, they are quite territorial.