Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

I had an invitation to fish the Wey near Alton. A proper chalk stream. This would take me well outside my comfort zone. Clear water, Ranunculus, streamer weed and fussy Brown Trout. I would have to fish at the top of my game. It was a very hot, sunny day with a gentle breeze, not ideal for fishing. We walked downstream looking for fish, the weed beds covered the stream from bank to bank with narrow gaps of deep, dark water in between the weed beds and down the margins.

I started to fish a stretch of water around a right hand bend, flicking the fly on a long leader with only a yard of fly line outside the tip eye. I watched the fly drift back towards me. ‘Tenkara’ style. With each cast I moved upstream a step, slowly making my way along the barbed wire fence and around the bend. As the bend straightened out there was a wide, deep run under the far bank. Overhanging rushes and grass sheltered the run. I flicked the fly close to the far bank and followed the drifting fly down with the rod. After several runs down, there was a flash and wrench on the rod, a monster Trout had seized the fly. Chaos ensued. There was much splashing and shouting for help. After a lot of messing about the Trout was subdued but it was out of reach.

I slid down the bank into the water, waded out into midstream and tried to net the fish, it went barmy again. Eventually I got it in the net and took the fly from it’s mouth. I held the Trout up for a couple of photos and then released it into the chilly water. It swam off strongly and I was a happy bunny. A big, wild Trout from a lovely stream, it doesn’t get any better.

We wandered back upstream, watching the water for rising fish. I had seen a monster in a secluded pool at the start of the day. My host, also called Nigel, worked his fly up under the trees but there was no response.

A sausage sandwich and a pint at the pub allowed me to cool down and recuperate, ready for the afternoon session. After lunch we fished a stretch of more open water. I saw a couple of nice fish below a bridge, they were feeding. They were moving up and down a pool under a big old Willow Tree. I flicked a Mayfly imitation over one of the fish but it didn’t react. I swapped to a badger winged Mayfly and that was taken immediately. As the fish charged off downstream I held it too hard and the tippet broke. It was a good fish, damn.

We walked upstream, there were broad open reaches, deep corners and gravelly shallows with thousands of minnows. It was good to see such a healthy stream with crystal clear water. Near the top of the stretch I found a fish rising just below a Ranunculus bed, it rose to an Olive but I was too slow. At the top I caught a small, wild fish from a weedy glide under an Alder tree. We sat in the shade for a while and cooled down.

Lower down the stream widened out as it dropped over a weir below which was a deep pool with a huge weed bed. Down the nearside the water was deep and fast and along the far bank was a shallow gravel run. I saw a Trout’s tail waving under the trailing weed fronds and crouched down for cover, it hadn’t seen me. I tied on a nameless, olive bodied fly with a bushy ginger hackle. Two Trout about a couple of pounds each came out from under the weeds and stationed themselves in the gravel run, perfect!  It was a tricky upstream cast but the fly landed above the fish and floated down, without drag, right over the fish. Nothing. The second cast had the same effect. Both fish swam under the far bank and disappeared into the bankside weeds. There was only about six inches of water and yet two large Trout had hidden themselves completely. I presented the fly ‘up and across’ the stream and drifted it close to the bankside weeds a dozen times but it was ignored. As I watched the stream one of the fish came out from under the bank, across the pool and into the deep run under my bank where it continued to ignore my fly.

Above the weir several fish were rising, one accepted my dry fly and I returned a fat little brownie of about eight ounces. As we were making our way back we saw a fish rise several times. It looked like a good fish. I tried to capture the moment of it’s downfall but although it rose nicely to a Black Gnat, I missed the photo opportunity and Nigel missed the take.

We were both tired. The water had become coloured by cattle upstream so we made our way back to the farmyard and our cars. Tired, hot, thirsty but fulfilled, I would remember the day forever. It had been my best days fishing for a long time.

Thank you very much Nigel 🙂

Yesterday was hot with bright sunshine, lots of Mayfly would have hatched. Today, Monday, was even hotter, over 75 F. There is no point in fishing too early as the Mayfly rise occurs about lunch time, very civilised. Which beat to fish?  The middle beats are ideal but I fancied a change of scene. Rotherbridge is a beautiful place and there are lots of corners and overhanging trees to explore. However, the top beats are demanding and rarely fished, I would go to the top of the river.

The trees were in full leaf and the bankside vegetation was a good height, plenty of cover to hide behind. I saw a rise just above the bridge as I was setting my rod up. I flicked a fly out and the Trout took it immediately. A good start. It was a small, wild fish which swum off strongly when I released it. I moved downstream and found another fish rising just above a fallen Willow bush. This Trout was fussy, it eventually took a spent Mayfly. Further downstream I caught a third fish on a Mayfly. They were all plump little jewels, it was good to see a new generation of Trout.

I eventually got to the Monster Pool. A small fish was rising in the shallow run just above the pool. As I was preparing to cast, I saw an enormous Trout cruise up the middle of the run. It was swimming slowly, not feeding and disappeared into a small clump of streamer weed. It might be a Sea Trout. I flicked the Mayfly at it but it showed no interest. I rested the pool, keeping watch for the Monster but I didn’t see it again. I estimated the fish to be between six and eight pounds, a true giant. After about thirty minutes a fish rose under the far bank, it took me several attempts to present the fly correctly. It was another small, wild fish. I will return to that pool next time, it has always been a good place for me.

I had caught four small, wild Trout and that was enough. There is no point in fishing purely for numbers, it then becomes a chore. When I got back to the Land Rover a column of male Mayfly Spinners were fluttering up and down alongside it, they probably thought it was a bush ! One Mayfly had settled on the green paint. It posed nicely for a photo. I had a pint of ‘Blonde Bird’ at The Badgers before heading home.

========================================

 

 

The weather forecast was 60 F and strong NE winds. How could that be true?  Crazy weather. The river would have had a few visitors over the Bank Holiday weekend. The  heavy rain on Tuesday had slightly raised the level at Halfway Bridge. It might be too coloured. I was prepared for the worst. As I crossed Coultershaw Bridge I glanced at the river and was relieved to see it wasn’t coloured.

I parked on the edge of the wood at Keepers Bridge and looked at the signing in book, nobody had fished the beat since Sunday. I walked through the wood and had a look at the river, Mayfly were coming off and a fish rose. Excellent, I hurried back to the Land Rover and tackled up making sure not to miss any rings on the rod.

I sat behind a bunch of stinging nettles and watched the Alder pool, fish were rising but the wind was very strong. Lots of Mayfly were being blown onto the water and were struggling to release themselves. Their struggles made the surface film ‘buzz’ around them. It would be difficult to present a fly, luckily the wind was upstream. I started with a short, stiff hackled Mayfly but the trout were not fooled. After an hour I’d not had a take, a change was needed. I tried a nymph fished shallow, close to the edge. A small wild trout took the nymph. While I was returning the trout another fish rose for a Mayfly. Cheeky. I tried a large bushy French Partridge Hackle Mayfly. It was ignored.

I chose a plastic winged Mayfly that I tied last year, they are hopeless to cast as they twist the line badly. I didn’t need to cast, I just lifted the rod and the wind did the rest. It caught the wings and blew the fly into midstream. The fly drifted over a feeding fish which rocketed to the surface and smashed into the fly. Each time I found a rising fish and drifted the Mayfly over it, the response was immediate and violent. One fish leapt out of the water as it took. They seemed to like the silhouette of the plastic wings in the surface film. I caught four good fish before the rise ended. It was good to catch something from the river at last.

========================================

 

It was a dewy, misty morning that promised to burn off and reveal a roasting hot summer’s day. The Mayfly would rise at midday and I would be there to see them. That was the plan. Preparation is everything; P20, Jungle Formula, lunch, camera charged. It would be a perfect day.

I like the drive to Coultershaw, the country lanes and sleepy villages set the scene for a peaceful day by the Western Rother. As the Land Rover swings on to the old railway track I can look down from the embankment and see the swiftly flowing river as it leaves the weir and fish pass. It always looks promising.

I parked under the Hazel Tree, signed in and walked down the lane to Keeper’s Bridge. I sat at the top of the pool and had lunch; bacon and egg sandwich and a beer. Yummy. While I was setting my rod up a fish rose several times about half way to the bridge, in mid-stream. I marked it down and searched the fly box for inspiration.

I chose a dark hackled Mayfly on a size 10 barbless hook. I crept down the pool and flicked the fly out on a short line. The trout rose on the third cast, circled the fly, came back for it and took it confidently. The Trout was on briefly. Rats !

I rested the pool and about twenty minutes later another fish started to rise. I put it down with some clumsy casting. A fish rose once at the very top of the pool but I couldn’t present the fly properly, there was too much drag.

I wandered downstream to the straight pool below the Alder tree. It looked so inviting.

I watched the pool for about an hour and saw a few Mayfly hatch but there was no rise. I tried some exploratory casts at the tail of the pool but there was so much debris on the surface the Trout probably couldn’t see the fly.

I went back to the bridge and drifted a nymph through the pool, a fish swirled at the site indicator and ignored the Amber Nymph. I should have persevered with a Mayfly.

I visited Jacksons Lake on the way home, it was full of millions of tadpoles. I saw a couple of carp but no trout.

========================================

It was a glorious morning, bright sunshine, fluffy white clouds and a gentle breeze. I got to the river at the crack of 11:30am and had a leisurely lunch resting against the parapet of Keeper’s Bridge. The water level at Halfway Bridge was 0.045m which is the lowest it’s been this year. The water was coloured but the streamer weed was visible in mid river. A few Mayfly were coming off, the swallows were catching most of them before they could reach the safety of the trees. A couple of noisy Buzzards spiraled along the edge of the wood and a small plane from Goodwood spluttered across the sky.

I browsed through my box of nymphs and chose a light coloured, size 10 Mayfly nymph with added weight. The tippet was about four feet and I used fluorescent orange putty on the knot with the leader. I cast across and down and worked the pool above the bridge carefully. After about thirty minutes I had a take as I was lifting off at the end of a cast but the fish wasn’t hooked properly.

I walked downstream on the South bank until I saw a fish rise. It rose a few times in the same place and was obviously feeding. Mayfly started to hatch and three or four fish repeatedly rose all over the pool. I couldn’t see any adult Mayfly on the surface, the Trout were probably taking the nymphs or emerging flies. To confuse matters, the water was covered with tiny white seeds from the willow trees. I tried a size 10 Mayfly but the Trout were not impressed. I swapped to a large Mayfly Spinner. A Trout rose, sneered at my imitation and turned away. I changed to a size 12 short hackled Mayfly and this was taken by the first fish that saw it. Hurrah ! My first decent fish from the river this season. The disturbance put all the other fish down.

Size 12  short hackled Mayfly

I walked down towards Rotherbridge but I couldn’t find any rising fish. The river had been stocked earlier in the day but the new fish were not showing, they will have settled down by Thursday. I made my way back to the Land Rover and drove to The Badgers for a celebration pint.

================== ><(((‘> ====================