Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

Fishing and photography go well together. I am usually by the water or in the countryside several times a week and there are lots of photo opportunities. I travel light when fishing. There is no enjoyment in lugging mountains of gear around. I don’t want a heavy camera hanging round my neck when I’m exploring the coast or the moors. Fishing bags and camera boxes remain in the back of the Landrover.

‘January Sunrise’ – Digital

Digital cameras are convenient and full of technology but I am not comfortable with mine. The camera in my iPhone is excellent but it has a mind of it’s own. I find myself constantly trying to override the settings that an Apple geek has chosen for me. However, it is small and light and I never leave home without it. Everyday there are photo opportunities. I want to take them.

‘Paddling’ – Digital

The Olympus OM2 was the cutting edge of camera technology when it was launched in 1975. It was the first camera to meter ambient light and flash, off the film surface giving continuously variable exposures from 1000 of a second to 1 minute. Amazing. My OM2 body was broken during a storm when the tripod fell over and smashed the camera on a rock. A very nice man in Olivers Photographics, Penzance found me an identical replacement.

‘Storm’ – Olympus OM2, Ilford FP4

I use the OM2 with Ilford FP4 film for landscape photography. I have the film processed by Ilford Labs and use The Print Space for big prints. I have to take time over composition and exposure, I can’t take fifty shots and select the best, it’s too expensive. Film imposes constraints but the end results are worth it.

‘Bodiam Castle’ – Olympus OM2, Ilford FP4

Of the thousands of images I have made, only one can be seen as a print on the studio wall. The others are viewed online and that detracts from the quality of a fine black and white negative. I think the superior quality of the film images shines through even though they are being viewed digitally. Perhaps this compromise makes the best of both technologies.

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I planned to fish the evening rise more this season. Last year I generally fished late morning and early afternoon before visiting The Badgers. The weather looked good, dull and damp after the weekend heat. The river level was down and everything seemed to be in my favour. However, when I arrived at Keeper’s Bridge there were two cars under the trees. This is unheard of. I kept going to the top beat, it was a long drive up the old railway but there were no cars there, I had the river to myself.

As the engine died the first drops of rain splattered on the windscreen. I had to laugh. I set the rod up and signed the beat book. Upstream or down? I heard a chain saw quite close by, the fallen Oak by Ladymead was the target. Too much noise, downstream it would have to be. As I crossed the bridge I was pleased to see that the water had cleared a bit. I could just make out the weed and gravel in mid stream. The gravel is dark stone, probably washed down from the artificial redds by the winter floods.

I started on the North bank above The Oak pool. A little wild Trout chased the nymph just as I was lifting off at the end of the first cast. That was promising and made me concentrate as I fished the entire pool. The rain got heavier and I took shelter under an Alder tree while scanning the water for rises. There were none.

I fished the Long Pool thoroughly from top to bottom, it looked a very good place for Sea Trout. I wandered down to the Island Pool and had a look at the Willow that has fallen across the entire width of the river. It’s very good cover for the Trout but completely unfishable. I lost my nymph in the Willow and decided to visit the pub. On the way I stopped at Keeper’s Bridge to look at the beat book. A member had caught a nice fish on a nymph just below the bridge. Rats. The pub was crowded and noisy, it’s nicer mid-afternoon.

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The club barbeque had a vintage atmosphere about it. The marquee, the club house and the somewhat ornamental lake made a quintessentially English country scene. It was reminiscent of ‘The Shooting Party’ by Isobel Colegate but with Trout instead of Pheasants.

The grass had been mown, the marquee had been strung up by the lake and the weather was lovely. Wine, food and fishing. A perfect Spring day in good company, surrounded by glorious Sussex countryside.

Generally I like to fish alone but this was a social occasion with a fishing theme. A chance to chat to other members, exchange fishing stories and sit in the 72 degree sunshine by the lake. After the club AGM formalities there was an auction of tackle, most of it by Hardy and Sharpes. My favourites. The catalogue was full of nice things. I took my cheque book but restrained myself.

Eventually the time came to set up my rod. I had changed the design of my leader. I’d been suffering from the butt of the leader and the tip of the fly line sinking. This is not a problem on the river because the cast is usually fished out in less than thirty seconds but on a lake the duration of the cast can be five minutes. Too long for a slowly sinking leader, it drags a dry fly under. So I chopped eighteen inches off the butt of a Leeda 5lb tapered leader and superglued it into the fly line. The butt of the leader had been considerably reduced in diameter and floated nicely in the surface film. I used a longer tippet to compensate for the shorter leader.

We walked down to Lower Figgs and I started with a black neoprene buzzer, size 14, fished just under the surface. On the first cast a fish slammed into the fly and fought like a tiger.

The water was very clear with a slightly brown tint. I could see the cruising fish ten yards from the bank and about a foot under the surface. I waited for a bigger fish to come within range and put the fly down about a yard ahead of it. It took the fly, jumped and threw the hook.

My ghillie captured the exact moment the fish escaped. Good photography. I caught two more fish before the sun and wine took control of me. We had a siesta on the edge of the lake before the long walk back to the club house. A very enjoyable day out.

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I looked at the ‘GaugeMap‘ app on my tablet and saw that at Halfway Bridge, the level was 0.54m. Not as low as I had expected. The weather forecast for Petworth was good, a South Easterly breeze of 10mph and bright, hazy sunshine.

I got to the river at 12:30 and went straight to Keeper’s Bridge. The river was coloured, it’s difficult to know if this is caused by run off from the potato fields or algae. A similar thing happened last season just after the potatoes were planted.

I sat next to the parapet of Keeper’s Bridge and watched the water upstream for about thirty minutes. Carefully. I hadn’t set my rod up. Nothing moved, no flies hatched. There were a few terrestrials about but the river looked dead. I have seen this before, one minute the river is dead and then suddenly, trout start rising everywhere. I fished the pool below the Alder trees from the North bank for about an hour. Then I wandered upstream along the South bank to the Sandy Pool and fished the tail of the pool. The shallow water was clearer but I had no takes. A fish rose higher up the pool, it looked like a Dace or a small wild Trout.

The sun was hot, the pub was calling. I had a pint of Cornish Orchards Gold Cider which was nothing like the cider we were given at Fullers Griffin Brewery. I’ll stick to beer.

I’m looking forward to the club barbeque on Sunday. Last year I caught a 6lb brownie at the barbeque, that will be difficult to beat.

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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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