Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

It was a grey day with very high winds. Not steady, gale force winds but blustery winds that would make casting difficult. Sometimes the gusts were accompanied by brief showers. Heavy rain was forecast for 3:00pm. I visited all the lakes and every beat on the river to collect the catch returns. After delivering them I drove to Rotherbridge. That was probably a mistake. Some of the smaller lakes were sheltered and I had seen a large trout in the shallows at Lower Figgs. I saw the same fish last Thursday browsing the lake bed, it looked like a blue trout about 4lb.

I drove to Rotherbridge and walked straight to the new riffle. I worked a black nymph down the runs to the tail of the pool without any response. It was difficult to cover the water accurately as the line was uncontrollable. I moved down to the long straight but couldn’t find a trout. I lost a couple of flies in the bushes and occasionally the wind lifted the fly line off the water. The combination of the current and wind made it impossible to continue at the riffle.

I walked to the pool with the overhanging Alder branch and as I arrived a good fish splashed at the top of the pool alongside the tree. Normally a side cast and a flick of the rod tip puts the fly well up the pool. The wind was downstream and I couldn’t reach the fish, the line was blown back towards me. I gave up after twenty minutes. I moved down to the next pool and lost a couple more flies in the bushes.  At 3:00pm as predicted, the rain started to arrive, big black clouds were gathering over the Downs behind me. It was time to retire to The Badgers for a pint and a piece of chocolate cake. I should have gone to Lower Figgs.

In Sussex the Mayfly season is dwindling away. The few flies that emerge from the river in the late afternoon are snapped up by Chaffinches. The wings of the newly emerged fly are a pale yellowy green. As the Mayfly flutters up from the river and heads for the trees, it is easily seen and makes a tasty mouthful. The Chaffinches sit in the tops of the Alder and Willow trees waiting for the next course on the tasting menu. The Swallows zoom down and snap their beaks, rarely missing.

The duns that make it into the trees sit on a leaf or twig overnight and turn into spinners. A smaller and much darker fly.

The small, dark male spinners dance in columns. They rise and fall in fluttering clouds. Some fall into the water and are an easy meal for the trout.

My early Mayfly patterns were quite crude. Over the last three seasons I have refined the dressings and tied them on more suitable hooks. With so many natural flies about the trout can become quite fussy, particularly if they have been caught before.

This is my latest pattern. The hook is a Tiemco 103bl, size 12. The tail is cock pheasant centre tail and the body is closed cell, white neoprene foam ribbed with black silk. The body extends over the hook eye to help it float. The hackle is olive cock and the hackle points are left to imitate the wings. Alternatively, the hackle is wound from further back and the tips clipped off. That gives a lighter dressing for ultra fussy trout.

If the trout are taking spinners, I use the same pattern but with black hackles. The trout don’t know their main source of food is about to disappear. Within a few weeks they will switch to Olives and Sedges.

I spent the afternoon taking temperature and pH readings at the lakes, some very interesting results. It was scorching hot with bright sunshine. I arrived at Keeper’s Bridge about 4:30pm and had already decided to fish upstream to Perryfields. I hadn’t fished that stretch for a long time and it would make a nice change. I walked past the Sandy Pool and found a large Alder tree to sit under. I could see a short stretch of river while I set up my rod. After selecting and tying on a Mayfly I discovered that I had missed a rod ring. Again. Despite great care. My eyesight must be failing.

I was enjoying the shade and the breeze when a fish rose just upstream under a tree branch. I watched it rise several times and then tried to cover it. I lost the fly in the Alder tree. The fish continued to rise until I managed to get a Mayfly over it. Then the trout disappeared.  My casting was not at it’s best. The heat and midges were getting to me so I strolled upstream along the headlands of a large open water meadow. The breeze was stronger there. I heard a splash in the big wide pool about a hundred yards above the old riffle. I sat and watched for ten minutes and only saw a Moorhen. I was just about to continue upstream when the fish rose again. In midstream just below a sunken tree branch. I had lost a few flies on that branch last season. I cast a Neoprene Mayfly over the trout a few times but there was no response. I went upstream and chased a trout along a stretch of river. It kept moving up, it was probably a sea trout. When I reached Perryfields Barn a diesel engine was thumping away feeding the water sprinklers.  It was too noisy so I went back to the trout by the sunken tree. As I approached the pool it rose several times. I checked the knots, degreased the tippet and put the fly in the perfect place second cast. The trout swirled and I lifted into it. I bent the rod and hauled the fish out of the branches. It took the fish by surprise. By the time it was on an even keel it was in open water. It ran deep and pulled hard but it kept away from the snags. In the net it looked very long, it was about 2lbs 4ozs. It had a curly dorsal fin, not a wild fish.

After returning the trout I went back for the fish under the Alder tree. It had gone. I returned to the Sandy Pool and watched the tail end. A fish rose under the  old willow stumps but not for my Mayfly. Back at Keeper’s Bridge there were two fish rising, one under my favourite Alder branch and another under the near bank about twenty yards downstream. I tried the lower fish with a Mayfly gently lowered onto the water. It came up, looked at the fly, circled around and went back down again. It was not the presentation, the leader was not touching the water. It didn’t appreciate my fly tying skills. I tried it again with a different fly but the fish remained unimpressed. I moved up the pool to cover the fish sipping down flies under the branch. The cast was perfect, the fly landed gently, the fish head-and-tailed. It was hooked. It was about 1lb 8ozs and marked like a leopard. A cool pint at The Badgers was desperately needed. It was a perfect end to the evening.

I arrived at the river about 5:30pm and planned to stay until dark. There were a few Mayfly hatching but not enough to coax the trout to the surface.  The sea trout smolts were splashing on the surface.

I started at Keeper’s Bridge and caught a small sea trout within thirty minutes. As the sun dipped lower the fish started to rise. Not for Mayfly but for midges, there were millions buzzing about near the surface. I saw a small fish leap out of the water in an attempt to grab an airborne fly. A fish was rising just above the bend but a careless cast put it down. I rested the fish and it started to rise again a bit further downstream. It refused several flies and I walked away in search of an easier target. I couldn’t find another trout so I returned to the spooky fish and cast a spent Mayfly imitation. The trout rose confidently and took the fly. It was a small wild fish which I quickly returned.

I wanted to explore the stretch of river between Keeper’s Bridge and the old riffle, it had been kind to me last season. I walked slowly upstream looking for any signs of trout. I reached the riffle without seeing anything except ducks and swans. The sun was low and the air temperature was dropping. Dew was forming on the short grass beside the river. I sat beside the Sandy Pool waiting for a rise. A trout took a midge at the end of the pool near the far bank. I waited for it to show again and cast down and across. The cast was clumsy and I put the fish down. Another trout rose downstream from the pool, at the top of the long straight beside a bush. I crept down and flicked a Mayfly into the rings of a rise. I did that several times. The trout took the fly just as I lifted it slowly off the water at the end of a cast. I didn’t scare the fish which kept rising under my rod tip. A few minutes later I lowered the fly onto the surface and a good fish rose and gulped it down. I’m not sure it was the same fish. With such a short line the fight was frantic, Ian appeared and netted the fish for me. It was nearly 2lb and nicely marked. I left about 9:15pm, a good fish was rising at the top of the Sandy Pool close to the bank. I marked it down for next time. The evening was very productive.

The weather over the Bank Holiday weekend had been odd, extreme heat and bright sunshine then thunderstorms. I made the usual Monday morning visit to discuss the catch returns for the lakes and river. The river level at Halfway Bridge had risen from 0.026m to 0.064m as a result of 22mm off overnight rain. At 9:30am I could see the sandy bottom at Rotherbridge but an hour later it was obscured, the river was still rising. The shallows at Ladymead were unfishable, the only place I thought might be worth fishing was the new riffle.

I started at the top of the riffle and worked my way down covering the whole pool with a pale coloured leaded nymph. It would be visible in the muddy water. By continually mending the line I was able to keep the fly trundling down the deeper runs. There was no response. I returned to the top of the pool and changed to a black fly. I had a toffee before working the pool again. Towards the end of the riffle, in midstream, there was a satisfying thump on the rod which remained bent in an alarming hoop as the fish kept deep in the fast water. I saw a flash of silver and immediately thought “sea trout”.  However, there was no jumping or thrashing about and I revised my thoughts. It was a chub. I beached the fish and unhooked it in the water. It had a few scales missing, probably from spawning. There was little point in moving to another pool. I rested the main flow and fished just above the bend. After twenty minutes the line drew taught and I hooked a trout. It was an opportunity to use my landing net with the ‘new’ extending, three metre handle. It worked beautifully and made returning the fish safer. No more teetering on the edge of a high bank.

There were lots of Mayfly hatching so I changed to a dry fly and covered several rising fish. I didn’t grease the fly or tippet and the fly hung just below the surface. I only had one take but I was distracted by a chaffinch fluttering around, chasing it’s lunch. I looked back at the river to see the leader stop moving and the swirl widening.

I had been lucky with the weather. The rain had been evaporating from my shirt at about the same rate as it fell. Behind me a large dark cloud was growing along the ridge of the South Downs, it was time to leave. I drove to Great Springs and had a cup of tea. I had mistakenly left the landing net on the roof of the Land Rover when I left Rotherbridge but it survived the journey.  The water looked dark and lifeless. A few fish were jumping, not feeding. I fished a dry fly for a while but had no takes. The water temperature was 21 degrees, rainbow trout don’t like warm water. After a final cuppa I drove away through a warm mist rising from the fields. Although it was only 5:00pm I had to use the headlights, very odd weather.