Sussex Trout Fishing … and Devon

The shooting season ended at dusk today, 1 February. What an odd date to choose ! I think a civil servant must have got ‘inclusive’ and ‘exclusive’ mixed up when drafting the Regulations.

During the winter I stocked up on my feather collection. I no longer buy exotic plumage, it is expensive and the trout don’t appreciate it. Pheasant and Partridge provide a lot of material for fly tying. When faced with a game cart containing hundreds of birds, I can select the best quality tail and shoulder feathers. The markings vary tremendously between birds, some birds are melanistic other birds are very pale. Each week I sneak a few feathers when the Keeper is not looking.

I also like to use feathers that have been dropped during the moult; Goose, Swan, Duck etc. I sometimes find Crow, Owl, Buzzard and Pigeon feathers when I am fishing. I tuck them away in my fishing bag and put them in cellophane folders when I get home.

I used to buy exotic plumage because as a professional fly tier, the traditional dressings had to be followed or customers complained. Veniards provided me with top quality, exotic materials for many years but I now rely on ‘foraging’.  The only feathers I buy are hen and cock capes; some natural and some dyed to the required shades. When my stock of exotic feathers is exhausted they will not be replaced.

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The 100 yard stretch of river immediately above Keepers Bridge is demanding because the back cast is restricted and the far bank has several mature Alder trees under which the trout live. There is usually a good hatch along this stretch and swarms of flies gather just under the trees. The trout are hard to reach and ‘experimental’ casts are required. Bushy, stiff hackled flies bounce off the low hanging leaves in a very life like manner.

This stretch of the river holds a lot of fish, under the trees, alongside the streamer weed and in the fast run at the top bend. It pays to sit and watch the water for a while, when the fish are rising I can spend an entire evening here. I limit myself to 3 fish and return them all.

On the South bank the evening sun drops down below the trees on my left, upstream of me. Shadows are not a problem and I take advantage of the fringe of plants the Keeper has left along the edge of the bank. The water is shallow and standing up to cast is the kiss of death, the trout immediately dash into the tree roots along the far bank. I sit still and wait for a trout to rise, walking about and casting frequently is not the answer.

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I arrived at the river at about 11:00am. The water was lower than last week and a little clearer. The sun was shining and the wind was warm, from the south west, perfect fishing conditions.

A few Olives were hatching and there was a lot of debris on the surface of the water from the bankside Willows and Alders. I walked downstream until I found a fish rising. I cast upstream with a dry Pheasant Tail and after a few misplaced casts, I put the fly just above the fish. It rose and took the fly but I missed ! I rested the fish for 15 minutes and tried again. The first cast landed perfectly, the fish rose confidently and this time I didn’t miss. He was about 8oz and went straight back.

By now I was hot and thirsty, the pub was calling me. I went to the Badgers at Coultershaw Bridge and had a homemade burger and a pint. It was superb and I felt like a sleep. When I got back to the river, I found a sunny spot with a good view of the river and made myself comfortable.

Almost immediately a fish rose, then another just next to me. The Mayfly had started to hatch and were fluttering about everywhere. This was too good to ignore so I tied on a recently made Mayfly imitation and covered a fish. After a few casts the fish took the fly with a big splash and was hooked. The fish was about 8oz and I returned it to grow bigger.

There were hundreds of Mayfly hatching so I put the rod down and took some photos.

Then I fell asleep !

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The club bar-b-q is a great time to meet the other members and to swap stories. I went along to chat, to sit in the sun and to ensure that none of the food went to waste. The burgers were excellent. Washed down with red wine, yummy.

As I had my fishing gear in the Land Rover I thought it would be rude not to have a few casts. I found a nice spot in the sun and sat down to have a couple of casts and a snooze. Sun and red wine has that effect. I was surprised to see a fish rise only a few yards from the bank, just the other side of the marginal weeds. I flicked a size 12 Gold Ribbed Hares Ear (GRHE) nymph at the rise. It was a half-hearted attempt and I was not too disappointed when my fly was ignored. Several random casts later I was losing interest. Sleep beckoned. However, I noticed the weeds moving and the shadow of a good fish. Immediate concentration and an unusually accurate cast resulted in a savage take and a screaming reel. The little Hardy reel was screeching, the line thrummed in the water and everyone looked in my direction. I smiled back at the members confidently but panic was building as I realized I had no backing on the reel. 30 yards of fly line seemed adequate when I loaded the reel. The fight was extreme. It took 20 minutes, the fish fought like a tiger and the landing net looked very small as I reached out at the end.

Catching a monster fish is great but to have so many witnesses is awesome. I was mentally exhausted and decided to stop fishing, another cast seemed pointless. The trout weighed exactly 6lb on the Salter scales. I nudged the scales but they would not register another ounce. Besides people were looking over my shoulder. The Keeper said that no browns had been stocked since 2014 and that the fish had over wintered, probably feeding on fry.

It was several days before I stopped thinking about that fish. It’s going to be hard to beat that at the next club bar-b-q.

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I was impatient to get back to the top beat of the river to check on the monster trout I had seen last week. I was amazed at how much the landscape had changed in such a short time. Potatoes had been planted everywhere !

The record book for the beat revealed that nobody had fished it since my last trip, the monster fish would still be there. I went straight to the pool and peeped over the edge, there was no sign of the fish.

I sat down on a sandy patch, surrounded by stinging nettle shoots and watched the pool for a few minutes. The water level was the same as last week and there were a few flies hatching. I kept peeping over the edge but although I could see shrimps buzzing around on the sand bank, there was no trout. Had it moved to another pool ? I thought that it would still be there as the pool was full of food, was deep and had plenty of cover. Why should the trout move ?

I checked the leader and tippet for any imperfections and knotted the fly on carefully, 5lb fluorocarbon is tricky to tighten without crushing it. I started covering the water under my bank with a shrimp imitation. I gradually covered all the water on my side only losing one fly on a tree root. After about an hour I was losing concentration so I had a rest and browsed through the fly box. I don’t know why I changed my fly, it was a daft thing to do as I knew any trout in the pool would be feeding on shrimps. After about ten minutes I changed back to a shrimp pattern and vowed to use it for the rest of the day.

After about an hour the monster trout appeared on the sandbank under my rod tip. I kept still and watched it pick up a few shrimps and glide back into the pool. It had stirred up quite a bit of sand.

I waited a few minutes and it came back. I twitched my shrimp past the fish and it swam away again. It didn’t come back for about 20 minutes. Eventually it appeared on my left, cruised along the sand, picked up a few shrimps and drifted away to my right, towards deeper water. I watched it patrol for several circuits and then decided to flick my shrimp at it. The fly landed just ahead of the fish and I drew the line to induce a take. To my delight there was a flash of white as it opened it’s mouth followed by a savage wrench on the rod. I only had about 2 yards of fly line outside the rod tip and I just let the fish run back down into the pool under the Oak tree.

It was a long, spectacular fight. I had brought a long handled landing net with me but it took ages to get the fish in the net. At one point it jumped out of the net just as I lifted it and I thought the fish was going to get off.

The fish was very long and quite plump. The hook came out easily and I rested it in my net for 15 minutes before it swam out of the mesh and back into the pool. The trout was much longer, broader and heavier than my last fish and I estimated its weight at 6lb which I think was conservative.

I was relieved to be able to return the fish. I was in a daze so I sat on the bank, had lunch and admired the scenery. I didn’t want to fish any more so I went to the pub for a celebration 🙂

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