Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

It was a warm, overcast day with a strong East wind. It’s unusual for an East wind to be warm but at least it would be blowing upstream. The river level had dropped significantly (0.051m at Halfway Bridge) and the chances of finding a Monster were good. The river is stocked with Trout in early May and the large number of stocked fish would make it impossible to target a Monster.

The water looked coloured as I drove over Coultershaw Bridge but flowing gently. I stopped at Keeper’s Bridge to have a look at the river, it looked barren and uninviting so I drove on to Taylor’s Bridge and the top beats. It’s a long way up the old railway track. By the time I had tackled up the sun was out and everything looked lovely. The bluebells were at their finest.

I wandered down stream, Beat B, examining all the likely pools but not stopping until I got to the Oak Tree pool, the home of Monsters. I thought that I would start in the broad glide above the pool and gradually work my way down into the deepest part of the pool under the Oak. I used a black chenille nymph with a lead shot head. It would be easy to cast and it would sink quickly. After a few casts the end of the fly line dived away and I lifted the rod expecting the savage wrench of a Monster. It was a wild brownie about 6oz but in great condition. I released it and set about the rest of the pool feeling very confident.

After about thirty minutes I moved downstream and at the end of the Oak Tree pool a fish splashed in mid stream. It wouldn’t take. I went downstream to the Willow Tree pool which looked very good but couldn’t find a fish.

The sun was hot and the pub was calling. I celebrated my first 2016 Trout from the river with a pint of ‘Doom Bar ‘and Her Majesty’s 90th Birthday with a pint of ‘Blonde Bird’ from the Greyhound Brewery.

Happy 90th Birthday your Majesty.

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I parked the Land Rover by the club house and made myself a cup of coffee. After a lunch of banana and cake, I wandered around the lakes and down to the last lake in the chain of five, Lower Figgs. The wind was steady from the South and it was overcast. The wind was a little too chilly to remove my coat. I perched on one of the little seats and watched the water. Trout were rising everywhere, taking something very small from the surface. The wind was blowing a line of leaves, algae and twigs from my left to right and the Trout were inspecting every floating item to see if it was edible. I started with a small dry Olive with a white wing. I had a take first cast and lost the fish after a very brief struggle. It was more of a wriggle than a struggle, then it was off ! I decided to be selective and cover only the bigger fish, there were several about 2-3lbs and lots of other smaller fish. I sat and watched, waiting for a monster.

After two hours of watching and being selective, I had lost another six fish. Some I missed, some threw the hook and one got in the marginal weeds. By this time the fish were getting suspicious of my fly and were turning away at the last moment. I swapped the fly for a Dark Olive with no wing and had two fish in two casts. On the take I lifted into the fish very slowly and carefully. Both fish were well hooked and fought like tigers. The first fish nearly made it to the other side of the lake, covering about twenty yards in a mad dash for freedom. A brace was enough. Time to leave.

I gave my fly to a lady member and wished her luck. The walk back wore me out so I had another coffee before leaving. I’m back in ‘dry fly mode’ ready for the river.

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The weather forecast was good and the river level gauge at Halfway Bridge read 0.12m, which was 4cm lower than my last visit. Two inches in old money. Things looked promising. However, when I arrived at Keeper’s Bridge I walked down through the wood and saw the water was still quite coloured. Nevermind, the Bluebells were at their best in the morning sunshine.

I thought the shallower water of the Top Beat would be clearer so I drove up the old railway track as far as I could and parked the Land Rover. I took my time setting my rod up and went to the Monster Pool. I fished it methodically for an hour but it was too murky.

I crossed the bridge and wandered up to the big pool at Ladymead and fished it for half an hour. There was too much drag to get the fly deep so, after a rest in the sun, I moved further up. The weather was glorious, a soft Southerly breeze and high clouds. The Bumble Bees were buzzing loudly in the tops of the Willow trees and I saw my first butterfly of the year, a Peacock. The trip had turned into a walk by the river. I lost my fly in a snag and took that as a sign …. ‘Stop fishing, go to the Pub’.

So I went to The Badgers and planned my next visit to the river. I knew the early part of the season would be difficult. The Monsters in the top Beat are thinly scattered over miles of river and they are hard to find. Mr Knight had entered a lost fish in the Beat Book but he didn’t say how big it was. Or which pool. Over my pint I resolved to persevere for another 2 weeks. After that the newly stocked fish will make it impossible to find a Monster.

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I took the Mk IV for an outing this afternoon, I travelled light. Just the rod, a landing net and some bait. There is nothing finer than a B James Mk IV Carp and a Mitchell 300 for carp fishing. The breeze was from the South and the air was clean, a lovely April afternoon.

I walked the bank until I found a group of carp, luckily the wind was from behind me and a gentle underarm flick was all I needed to reach them. They are crafty fish but I fed them to gain their confidence. Or so I thought.

Eventually a carp couldn’t resist the floating piece of malt loaf and I connected on the strike. I miss most takes. The split cane soon tamed the fish, the barbless hook dropped out in the landing net and the fish was returned without the fuss of an unhooking mat, scales and camera which so many carp anglers insist on using. I only had two slices of stale malt loaf but crusty white bread was just as good. I had three more carp from the shoal before they disappeared. They weren’t monsters but it was good fun. I celebrated with a pint in the Surrey Oaks.

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The recent rain had raised the level of the river and made it unfishable. The southerly wind was soft and the sun was shining when I left home but as I approached Petworth the rain started. There was only one car by the lakes, I had a cup of tea and set up my rod in the shelter of the club house.

While drinking my tea I watched the lakes, the Trout were head-and-tailing everywhere on Great Springs. Not splashy rises, proper ‘buzzer rolls’. I had the lake to myself for a while. I thought “This is going to be easy”, bad assumption. It was good to see that Tony had moved the wooden seat back to the dam end, that’s where it belongs.

I didn’t want to go home early and started fishing on The Point with a dry Adams. In two hours I had one half-hearted take. It was time for a change of fly. I switched to a size 16 buzzer and immediately started to get takes, from Roach !  The fish were only a few yards from the bank and the casting was easy. I hooked a Trout which snagged me in the bankside weed and got off. More Roach.

Then I had an idea, a ‘cunning plan’. Chop the hackles of an Adams and let it sink a bit. Instant success, three Trout later I had a break and another cup of tea at the hut. Then I found a better imitation of a buzzer in my dry fly box, a black neoprene buzzer that sank very slowly. The fish went mad for it and I quickly had another three Trout and some more Roach. Which was a bit greedy.

I had a chat with Tony before I left for home, he is off Bone fishing in Cuba, lucky man. As I drove away the rain stopped, the wind died and the sun came out. I took the fish to Nick and Jerry for supper.

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