Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

Yesterday I went to the river with a dozen other members for a guided tour organised by Andrew, the Keeper. Unfortunately the river was still coloured and unfishable. We toured the North bank from Rotherbridge, stopping at every bridge, right to the end of the top beat. We travelled in a convoy of Land Rovers which was just as well because the grass and stinging nettles were as high as the door handles. Then we visited the South bank driving to Taylor’s bridge and discussing the various pools on the way.

As the river was still coloured this morning, I went to Little Bognor and had a look around the top lake. The water was the colour of strong black coffee with brown sugar in a brown cup. I left the lake and drove to Great Springs. It was a lovely Summer’s day with a warm gentle breeze from the West and fluffy white clouds. I had a long chat with Tony, the Keeper, and a leisurely cup of tea. I walked around the top lake and saw several fish along the margins of the West Bank. I tried them with a buzzer and dry fly but they showed no interest.

I walked around the lower lake and fished near the Lime tree and then on the dam bank with no success. I did another circuit of the top lake but the fish seem to have gone down in the water to avoid the bright sunlight. After a final walk around the bottom lake and a few fruitless casts, it was time to leave. It was a very relaxing afternoon after the hectic events of Brexit.

Yesterday Tony told me about some big Brown Trout in the lakes at Little Bognor. I drove down to Fittleworth thinking about the possibility of an encounter with a Monster. I arrived at 11:30am and was relieved to see that the car park was empty, it’s only a small lake and two is a crowd.

I started at the top of the lake where the feeder stream runs in, there were trout rising amongst the debris from the willow trees. I tied on a size 18 Adams and flicked it at Trout that were only twenty feet from the bank. I used a large bushy fern to hide behind.

Several fish looked at the fly but were not interested. I changed the fly but there was no response. I could see the 4lb bs tippet clearly in the surface film, so could the fish. I changed the tippet to 2.5lb bs and cast to rising fish. Nothing. I persevered for about two hours but I couldn’t get a take.

I could see that they were taking buzzers just below the surface. The water had lots of dust and debris on the surface and the hatching buzzers were taking a long time to break through. I tried a size 12 Neoprene Buzzer, a size 12 Red Buzzer and a size 12 Green Buzzer but to no avail. I scaled down to a size 18 Black Buzzer but they were not fooled. I spent another hour with the buzzers but it was hopeless.

There were several fish rising to buzzers just by the overflow so I crept round to the dam end of the lake and hid behind another bush. I had a take on a Black Buzzer but missed it. The fish were underneath the Weeping Willow and they occasionally wandered out into the lake for a feed and then went back under the leaves.

I snipped the hackle off a size 18 Adams so it looked like an emerging buzzer and watched it slowly sink. At 4:00pm I was rewarded with a gentle take and I lifted into the fish. It felt as if I had hooked a snag and I thought ‘Monster‘ but it was only a small fish. I had a quick look around the bottom lake before leaving, there were fish rising but the water was very coloured.

It was a nice day and I worked hard, the fish at Little Bognor are very fussy.

 

 

 

The river was high and coloured, the rain was forecast to last into late afternoon. The Poppies and Daisies were in stark contrast to the grey sky and olive green of the crops. I had a leisurely lunch and two cups of tea while waiting for the sun to come out.

The Trout were moving everywhere. Some were jumping, others splashing and a few were obviously feeding. There were lots of Damsel flies around the lakes but I only saw a couple of Mayfly. Some fish were repeatedly jumping well clear of the water, that usually means they have lice and are trying to shake them off.

Jumping well clear of the water.

I had a walk around Great Springs looking for the bigger fish. I cast to two cruising fish but they ignored the fly. They were quite low in the water. I  walked down to Little Springs and watched the fish from behind the rushes. Two large fish were showing but they didn’t like my Iron Blue Dun. I swapped to a nameless fly with a brown silk body and ginger hackle.

I waited for the pale shadow of a Trout to appear, placed the fly gently infront of the fish and then lifted too early. To compound my error I clipped a bush behind me on the back cast and lost the fly. I was waiting for the fish to cruise past but the clouds gathered, the wind got up and I could no longer see the fish through the ripples. Time for tea.

I had a chat with Tony, the ‘Keeper of the Lakes’ and he said that he had introduced some large Brown Trout into the lakes at Little Bognor, mainly the upper lake. That’s where I will be heading tomorrow.

After tea I walked around Great Springs once more but I couldn’t convince the larger fish to take a fly. I left for home, after three hours of stalking, without catching anything but the upside was I hadn’t caught a small Trout.

 

After four days of rain the river level had risen and the water was coloured. Not the peaty brown of May, more of a green tint. There was no point in fishing the river, it would have to wait another week.

When I arrived at the lakes the wind was due South and it was warm, the rain had just stopped. I made my usual cuppa and had a wander around Great Springs, I had the lake to myself. Trout were rising and splashing everywhere, mainly around the dam area. I decided that it would have to be a ‘dry fly only’ day or I would be going home in an hour. I also resolved only to cast to rising fish, the bigger ones ! That should be a challenge.

I tackled up at the club house; surely the most luxurious fishing hut in the country, if not the world. The Iron Blue Dun looked very attractive so I tied on the best example in my box and walked off around the lake.

I found a group of fish feeding on the far side of the point and watched them taking nymphs around the edges of a weed bed. They were about 2lb so I held fire. A bigger, pale fish moved past me about ten yards from the bank, between two weed beds. That would do nicely. I put the fly down gently about a yard infront of the fish which ignored the fly and continued on its way. I waited. Another good fish came towards me from the right. I presented the fly nicely, the fish rose up and took the fly confidently. I lifted into the Trout and tried to keep it in open water but it dived under the nearest weed bed and got off.

I found another feeding fish near the point, it was quite close to the bank. I showed it the Iron Blue and it was on. Briefly. It also crashed under a weed bed and got away. It seemed pointless repeating the process for a third time so I went back to the club house and had another cup of tea. I watched the lower lake which was more sheltered and saw quite a few good fish moving along the East bank. They were feeding not just leaping about. The lower lake has very little weed and I decided to fish there. Although I have been to the lakes on many occasions I have never fished Little Springs. I much prefer the clearer, weedy water of Great Springs. The water is clear because of the weed. There is more pond life and shelter for the Trout. Weed is a good thing even if I do loose the odd fish or two.

I sat on a bench at Little Springs and watched the fish. There were quite a few big fish sipping buzzers from the surface film. The porpoise like head-and-tail rise is a sure sign of Trout taking buzzers. I was very patient and waited for a good fish to come close enough. Eventually I cast the fly but a small trout rushed up and grabbed it before the bigger fish had a chance.

It started to rain. I looked to the South and decided not to walk back to the club house, it would only be a shower. Wrong. I sheltered under a Lime tree and about an hour later the rain eased. The fish became very active, they were rising all around me. I dried and oiled the fly and stood by the bench, it was too wet to sit on.

A good size fish was cruising towards me about twenty feet away. I put the fly right in its path, it rose and took the fly without any hesitation. The Trout took off for the far bank and my little Hardy Marquis reel buzzed frantically as the line disappeared. It was very quiet around the lake but my noisy reel attracted the attention of the two other members fishing. When the fish reached the far bank it turned around and headed back towards me. I wound as fast as I could and just about kept the line from slackening. The Trout did a few circuits infront of me and I looked over my shoulder for the net. The fish wasn’t ready for the net and it tore off along the margins to my left taking most of the fly line. My fly line is 30 yards long ! Then the line fell slack, the hook had dropped out. It took a long time to wind the line back on to the reel, it was an opportunity to reflect on the lost fish.

I continued to target the bigger fish but another small fish appeared from nowhere and gulped the fly down. I try and impose a two fish limit on myself so I wandered around the lake for a chat with another member, had a third cup of tea and left for home. It had been a successful day, the batteries had been recharged for a session on the river next Monday.

I was determined to fish whatever the weather, I wanted to get back to the pool where I had last seen the Monster Trout.

The weather was in stark contrast to my last trip, warm and humid with the return of the West wind. Unfortunately the wind was downstream and as the river level had risen slightly this would cause presentation problems. The Sea Trout might be running after the weekend rain.

The plan was to fish the top beat and concentrate on the deep pools. I walked down the North side to just above the Monster pool and resolved to fish it carefully and to cover every square inch. The Mayfly were dwindling away, I only saw a couple, there were no rising fish anywhere. While I was setting my rod up it started to rain, ‘It will only be a shower’ I thought and I didn’t bother to shelter under a tree. Big mistake, I was soaked to the skin in a few minutes.

I cast down and across with a weighted fly and let the line swing round, just like Salmon fishing. Half way down the pool there was a slight pluck at the line which I missed. A couple of casts later I connected with a small, wild Trout which I released. I moved down a few yards and had another take from a small fish but I didn’t connect with that one.

The Monster Pool

The sun came out and I started to steam. I worked the fly through the deepest part of the pool and under the Oak tree but there was no response from the Trout, they must have been hiding deep in the tree roots. I wandered up to Ladymead but the wind had got up and it was impossible to cast.

On the way back I dropped the fly into the deep pool just below the recently fallen tree and let it drift round. At the tail of the pool a Trout took and put up a spirited fight. The fish was about 1lb 8oz. I got back in the Land Rover and went to Rotherbridge, the water under the bridge is shallower than last year and there are a few more patches of weed. The wind was getting stronger and it was a job to get the line in the water. After a few casts a good fish followed the fly and I drew the line in quickly to induce a take. The Trout was convinced and just like the earlier fish, it gave a good account of itself. It was about the same size as the earlier fish. I return all of the fish from the river, it’s part of the enjoyment to see them swim away. Thunder clouds were gathering and rather than get soaked again, I went to The Badgers for a pint.