Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

The BBC weather forecast said there would be a southerly breeze at 7:00am,  it was from the west. After some gardening chores I drove down to the lakes  with the intention of fishing dry flies all afternoon. The sun was hot, the spring flowers were all in full bloom and the buzzards were mewing to each other. It all looked perfect. I had the mandatory mug of Darjeeling and chocolate biscuits while looking at the lakes. Great Springs looked lovely but barren. Nothing moved. Little Springs was alive with rising trout and another member had three fish while I sat in the sun watching. The wind swung round to the south and was pleasantly warm.

I browsed through my dry fly box, it’s a bit of a tangle. I must get something better. I thought I would start with a large olive fly that is easy to see. That pattern had been very successful on the river, surely the trout in the lake would like it. If that didn’t work, I would try a dry Pheasant Tail.

The olive didn’t work. Neither did the Pheasant Tail. The trout came to the flies confidently but turned away. They were taking something smaller, probably buzzers. I looked through the box and found some size 16 ginger buzzers that I tied last season. The pattern incorporated a small wedge of white foam to keep the fly suspended in the surface film. I had difficulty tying the knot, bright sun and a size 16 hook are not a good combination, particularly when the eye of the hook is clogged with varnish.

I waited for a fish to come close to the bank and flicked the fly at it. There was a big swirl but no take. That went on for a while but eventually the leader snaked away and I connected. It was a trout under 2lb but it took most of my fly line and fought for ages. I thought that it was foul hooked but the fly had caught in the scissors.

I returned to the lodge and celebrated with an ‘All Day Breakfast’ sandwich and a cup of tea. Plus several chocolate biscuits. With a few Quality Street.

The afternoon was nearly over. I went for a walk to Luffs and had a chat with a couple of members. The fish were taking buzzers down the centre of the lake, well beyond casting range. We are all looking forward to the opening of the river next Tuesday. It should be good if the rain holds off.

It was a glorious spring morning, I sat in the garden with a cup of tea and decided to go to the lakes later in the day. There would probably be an evening rise when the wind dropped. However, in the afternoon when I arrived at Great Springs, the clouds were darkening and the wind had a chill to it. Just to remind me it was still March. I had the usual cup of tea and a chat while watching the lakes. Great Springs was lifeless but Little Springs looked like a stock pond, trout were rising down the centre of the lake from the dam to the inlet spring. They were exploring a line of debris that had blown off the trees in the strong southerly wind. A new member arrived and with some advice about flies, he went to Little Springs and caught two trout.

Chironomid midges form 80% of a trout’s diet. They hatch all year round, even on a cold winter day. I thought I would fish Great Springs with a buzzer and try to catch a surface feeding trout. Or roach. I cast a Neoprene buzzer to rising roach and had several takes but I was too slow. The new member returned to the lodge, happy with his first day at the lakes. The trout were still rising on Little Springs as he left. I sat on the bench next to the inlet stream and flicked a buzzer out a few yards. Casting into the wind was a bit tricky and the fish moved away from my splashing around.

I went round to the side of the lake and changed my fly to a Neoprene Spider. That fly floats for hours. The first cast produced a savage, splashy take within seconds of the fly landing. I was surprised by the speed of the take and missed the fish. The next cast also enticed a trout which I hooked but it shook itself free after a few seconds. The hook holds are not very secure with the spider, the bulk of the Neoprene tends to mask the point of the hook. I must get the fly-tying vice out and design something more efficient.

The wind got stronger and colder. The fish had disappeared as a result of my efforts. My arm was aching so I called it a day.

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.