Author: Nigel Rainton

Rotherbridge looked cold and barren so I went to Keeper’s Bridge. The water was coloured and there was a stiff breeze from the West but it was warm-ish. I saw a fish rise just downstream of the Alder trees so I sat in the sun on the North bank and worked the pool from top to bottom. Nothing. I wandered up to the Sandy Pool but the Aberdeen heifers had just been released into the field and I couldn’t concentrate with them charging around behind me. A Trout took a fly off the surface but it was not interested in my nymph. I tried a dry fly but the fish had spooked. I crossed back to the South bank and went downstream where a few Alder flies were hatching. I moved slowly looking for a feeding fish but found nothing.

After a couple of hours I had lost concentration and decided to have a cup of tea at the lakes. Along the lane the fields had been prepared for the potatoes.

At Great Springs the fish were feeding close to the bank, taking buzzers in the calm water. I used a black neoprene buzzer with the hackles chopped back. It was a good imitation of a hatching fly and was taken just a few inches under the surface. I had about five Roach and a small Trout. I lost a good Rainbow as it charged through the weeds and off into the middle of the lake.

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Should I fish the river or one of the lakes ? I was undecided but as I approached Petworth the Land Rover swung left at the mini roundabout and took me to Keeper’s Bridge.

The river had a greenish tint and it was a bit high, 0.068m on the  Halfway Bridge gauge. I walked down through the wood and the wild garlic was overpowering. As I was setting up my rod a fish swirled near the bridge. It moved into the shallow section between the Alders and the bridge. It rose several times and I was confident that I would get a take. The wind was very strong and presentation was difficult. I think my clumsy casting put the fish down.

I crossed the bridge and walked up the North bank to the Sandy Pool. I concentrated but couldn’t get a take. After a couple of hours I wandered back up through the wood, packed up my tackle and had a pint at the Badgers. No fish but a nice afternoon walk. I imagine the river will be stocked tomorrow ready for the Bank Holiday weekend. No Monsters this season.

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The weather forecast was good for the entire day and I was anticipating another session on the river hunting for monsters. However, when I got to Rotherbridge the wind was very cold and blowing from the North West. It didn’t look very inviting so I drove up the old railway line to Keeper’s Bridge and had lunch while admiring the Bluebells. The wind was upstream and getting stronger.  There was no shelter anywhere on the middle beats and I decided to go to Little Bognor, deep in the woods, rather than freeze to death on the river. As I drove up the lane to the lakes a storm cloud was gathering and the dark sky was a nice contrast to the crops.

As I got out of the Land Rover the storm arrived. It was a cross between snow and hail, pea sized bits of dry polystyrene bounced all around the hut. It disappeared after a few minutes and the sun came out.

I started fishing just under the branches of the Willow on the top lake and had a take first cast on a Black Spider. I moved to the other side of the tree and had another take. I hooked both fish but they wriggled off. Barbless hooks !

I changed to a size 14 dry fly that I had tied the day before. I thought it looked good but the Trout were not impressed and after an hour I swapped it for a Pheasant Tail nymph. I caught a wild brownie about 4oz just off a weed bed. I was getting cold so I left the lake early. As I type it is snowing and the lawn is turning white, very spooky weather.

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It was a warm, overcast day with a strong East wind. It’s unusual for an East wind to be warm but at least it would be blowing upstream. The river level had dropped significantly (0.051m at Halfway Bridge) and the chances of finding a Monster were good. The river is stocked with Trout in early May and the large number of stocked fish would make it impossible to target a Monster.

The water looked coloured as I drove over Coultershaw Bridge but flowing gently. I stopped at Keeper’s Bridge to have a look at the river, it looked barren and uninviting so I drove on to Taylor’s Bridge and the top beats. It’s a long way up the old railway track. By the time I had tackled up the sun was out and everything looked lovely. The bluebells were at their finest.

I wandered down stream, Beat B, examining all the likely pools but not stopping until I got to the Oak Tree pool, the home of Monsters. I thought that I would start in the broad glide above the pool and gradually work my way down into the deepest part of the pool under the Oak. I used a black chenille nymph with a lead shot head. It would be easy to cast and it would sink quickly. After a few casts the end of the fly line dived away and I lifted the rod expecting the savage wrench of a Monster. It was a wild brownie about 6oz but in great condition. I released it and set about the rest of the pool feeling very confident.

After about thirty minutes I moved downstream and at the end of the Oak Tree pool a fish splashed in mid stream. It wouldn’t take. I went downstream to the Willow Tree pool which looked very good but couldn’t find a fish.

The sun was hot and the pub was calling. I celebrated my first 2016 Trout from the river with a pint of ‘Doom Bar ‘and Her Majesty’s 90th Birthday with a pint of ‘Blonde Bird’ from the Greyhound Brewery.

Happy 90th Birthday your Majesty.

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I parked the Land Rover by the club house and made myself a cup of coffee. After a lunch of banana and cake, I wandered around the lakes and down to the last lake in the chain of five, Lower Figgs. The wind was steady from the South and it was overcast. The wind was a little too chilly to remove my coat. I perched on one of the little seats and watched the water. Trout were rising everywhere, taking something very small from the surface. The wind was blowing a line of leaves, algae and twigs from my left to right and the Trout were inspecting every floating item to see if it was edible. I started with a small dry Olive with a white wing. I had a take first cast and lost the fish after a very brief struggle. It was more of a wriggle than a struggle, then it was off ! I decided to be selective and cover only the bigger fish, there were several about 2-3lbs and lots of other smaller fish. I sat and watched, waiting for a monster.

After two hours of watching and being selective, I had lost another six fish. Some I missed, some threw the hook and one got in the marginal weeds. By this time the fish were getting suspicious of my fly and were turning away at the last moment. I swapped the fly for a Dark Olive with no wing and had two fish in two casts. On the take I lifted into the fish very slowly and carefully. Both fish were well hooked and fought like tigers. The first fish nearly made it to the other side of the lake, covering about twenty yards in a mad dash for freedom. A brace was enough. Time to leave.

I gave my fly to a lady member and wished her luck. The walk back wore me out so I had another coffee before leaving. I’m back in ‘dry fly mode’ ready for the river.

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