The Annual Dinner and Raffle: this is always a most enjoyable evening and hopefully our new fishery officer, Sam Fenner, will be able to join us. This year the dinner will be on the last day of the season: Saturday 30th September. To book contact The Half Moon Inn: TEL: 01409231376 E-MAIL: info@ halfmoonsheepwash.co.uk
Jeremy Burden: sadly I have to report that Jeremy passed away about a month ago. He had lived in Sheepwash for 25 years and was a valuable committee member. He loved fishing the Torridge and with his dry sense of humour I know many of you will have enjoyed his company over a pint of beer at the bar of The Half Moon.
The Hatchery: we are determined to get our hatchery operational again this autumn. The number of Torridge salmon, like all the rivers in the UK, is declining at an alarming rate and it is now more important than ever to help arrest this decline by using our hatchery to rear upto 30,000 swim-up fry before releasing into the headwaters of the catchment in the spring.
Haydn, the proprietor at The Half Moon, has drawn up a lengthy document detailing the health/safety requirements and risk assessment statement regarding the use of the fish pass at Monkokehampton Weir to trap our broodstock. This has been forwarded to the EA. Once approval has been confirmed we can then prepare to open up the hatchery this autumn. All the hatchery team will have to attend a “confined space” training course and we will have to hire/purchase a portable hoist and harness to safely retrieve any member if necessary from the holding tank of the fish pass. This is all extra expense so it is even more important that the raffle is well supported this year.
Defending the sport we love: the future of river fishing is increasingly under threat. Rivers are no longer regarded as the preserve for anglers. Wild swimming, canoeing threaten the peace and quiet so important to the fishing fraternity. Conservation is currently the in-word. If we are not careful compulsory catch and release will be followed by the conservation lobby demanding a total ban on fishing with our rivers merely becoming a haven for beavers. Be warned!!
A mild August Sunday morning with a hint of moisture in the air, a light South West breeze bringing clouds from the Atlantic. The river was looking healthy, fairly high yet clear as morning sunlight occasionally broke through the lush trees that overhung the river.
It was only a short session but good to be wading in the cool water as I searched the river working my way slowly upstream. I was fishing a large bushy dry fly tied by Nigel Nunn
https://www.nigelnunnflies.com beneath which was tied a small copper head nymph. I tempted a couple of small wild browns on the nymph and had a few splashy rises to the dry that I failed to hook.
A good sized trout rose to the dry fly and I failed to connect so marked the spot and decided to have a try as I came back down river. I fished up covering a few likely spots with just the dry but failed to rise anymore fish.
I decided to try once more for the good fish I had risen earlier without connecting. I walked back and climbed into the river at the bottom of the pool. I worked slowly up flicking the dry fly over promising spots until I reached the place where I had raised the trout earlier. The fly floated on the river and brought a splashy rise that I again failed to connect with.
I decided upon a few minutes searching deeper with just a small jig headed nymph pattern, I leant back against a tree as I changed flies.
I wrote earlier this summer about how we go fishing to make memories and the next few moments are one of those captured memories to treasure.
As I prepared to flick the nymph into the river there was a flash of vivid electric blue as a kingfisher flew past just a rod length away. Whilst only fleeting the sight will linger in the minds eye for years to come. Downriver a movement caught my eye and I stood stock still as a heron and watched transfixed as three otters moved upriver along the far bank. I watched as they negotiated the tree roots, twisting, amazingly agile in the swirling water, scurrying in and out as they moved oblivious to my presence.
After they had passed I wandered if it was worth casting a line? I flicked the small nymph and watched the tip of the fly line as the nymph sank into the deep water. The line twitched, I lifted the rod and a trout pulsed at the lines end. Eight inches or so of crimson spotted perfection. I admired my prize briefly before slipping the barbless hook and releasing into the cool clear water.
It was time to go home with more memories made at the water’s edge.
FACTSHEET: Bass Fisheries Management Plan (FMP) Why a Bass FMP?
Bass is of substantial social, cultural and economic importance to local coastal communities.
The Bass FMP seeks to ensure stocks in English and Welsh waters are maintained at sustainable levels, and the full benefits of bass fishing can be realised by the communities that depend on them.
What does the Bass FMP do?
The Bass FMP collates the evidence on bass stocks and the bass fishery around England and Wales. It identifies existing management measures and sets out short and medium-long term policies and actions needed to manage the bass fishery.
Summary ————————————————————————————————- Current Management
Joint UK/EU management measures were implemented in 2015. These include a Minimum Conservation Reference Size (MCRS), domestic authorisations system, seasonal closures and catch/bycatch limits for commercial and recreational fishers.
Three gear types are authorised for landing bass. Regional byelaws provide inshore (<6 nautical mile) management, and a network of nursery areas also provide protection for juvenile bass.
Bass is currently fished within sustainable limits aligned with ICES advice. Goals of the FMP
The overarching aim of the FMP is to ensure stocks are harvested sustainably whilst benefiting a diverse range of environmental, commercial, recreational, and social interests. There are nine detailed goals:
1) Inclusive stakeholder engagement structures to inform management of the bass fishery.
2) Equitable access to the bass fishery, while prioritising stock sustainability.
3) Minimise discarding of bass bycatch where survival rates are low.
4) Encourage and facilitate full compliance with bass regulations.
5) Maximise the benefits of bass fishing for local coastal communities.
6) Sustainable harvesting of the bass stock in line with scientific advice.
7) Protecting juvenile and spawning bass.
8) Minimise the impact of bass fishing on the wider marine ecosystem.
9) Mitigate against and adapt to the impact of climate change on bass fishing.
FFM LIVE! factsheet v1
Proposed Actions in the FMP
Key elements of the plan include:
a) Improving the evidence base: Gaps identified include data on commercial discarding, recreational removals, and the social, cultural and economic benefits of bass fishing to local coastal communities.
b) Initial management measures: The FMP identifies actions to build on the existing bass management framework via:
The establishment by government of bass management group(s) with balanced stakeholder representation.
A review of existing management measures to determine whether alternative approaches better align with FMP goals (priority measures for early consideration include the current bass authorisation system and the timing/duration of the closed seasons).
The development of adaptive management systems (e.g. making more use of licence conditions rather than legislation).
c) Longer term measures: Additional measures proposed for review as evidence and monitoring improve include appropriate size limits, the regulation of shallow inshore and shore-based netting, and alignment of Inshore Fisheries and Conservation Authority and Marine Management Organisation powers to ensure consistency in enforcement.
Environmental Impacts
cultural heritage.
climate change related issues and
The bass fishery has an impact on the marine environment primarily through bycatch
of marine mammals, seabirds, and fish, as well as
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What does this consultation mean for me?
This is an opportunity for you to have your say in the future of bass management in English and Welsh waters. We want to receive your input and views throughout the consultation and beyond.
or scan the QR code to visit the page.
The consultation is open to 23:59 on 1 October 2023.
What happens next?
Your feedback will be analysed and considered as part of the consultation process. Following this the Bass FMP will be updated as appropriate.
The aim is to have the final Bass FMP published by the end of 2023.
Combe Martin SACs annual Fun Fishing Event coincides with the Sea Ifracombe Festival. This years special guests include Mat Mander from the D & S IFCA, Dean Asplin from the Angling Trust and hopefully members of the Local Coastguard and RNLI. There will be a friendly competition as in past years and the opportunity to talk with local anglers and our special guests.
The club look forward to meeting up with local anglers as participants or just for a chat on the day.
The event is free to enter. All junior anglers must be accompanied by an adult.
Kyle Bishop was the worthy winner of Combe Martin Sea Angling Clubs mixed brace competition for July 2023 Kindly sponsored by Braunton Baits and Ocean Daze. Kyle receives the choice of an Ocean Daze Tee Shirt of his choice.
Kyles brace included a tope of 61lb 9oz (205.208%) and a smoothound of 8lb 2oz. ( 81.250)
Many thanks to Richard Wilson for once again sharing his writing on North Devon Angling News. This months article is more than a little sobering as we can see the drama unfolding on our screens each day. These are indeed interesting times to live in and the symptoms are to be seen all-round.
Sweet memories: The high-summer days as July drifts into August. Cole Porter’s lazy, hazy, crazy days as time sprawls soporific in the warming sunshine. The beer and wine on ice and all gently fusing in the company of old friends. A river burbles nearby while an occasional splashy fish shows midstream. What could be better?
So that was going to be my theme for this article: Chilled booze, cool friends and throwing the dog in (there’s no more enjoyable way to catch summer fish – more on dogs below). A comforting vision of an unfolding August caressed by warm nostalgia.
Then a lot of other stuff happened pretty much everywhere and all at the same time. Canada’s forests caught fire and New York choked in the smog, the US south and west and most of Europe wilted in record-breaking heat, the North Atlantic and the seas around Florida simmered, a lot of places flooded and England’s rivers became fetid, drought-stricken trickles of raw sewage. And, meanwhile, algal blooms suffocated seas and lakes worldwide. These events are global, national and in my garden. So writing a piece romanticising warm rivers and slow, soporific summer afternoons suddenly seemed clumsy.
Instead, an old curse rings in my ears: ‘May you live in interesting times’. Because, it turns out, I do. In the first week of June and in the far north of Scotland, these interesting times came to get me. Fishing was stopped on my trip to the River Oykel because the water temperatures were too high. In early June! This is a time of year and latitude when spring should be alive with bird song, wildflowers and new beginnings. Instead, we sweltered. And as we did, more bad news arrived from abroad as El Nino started flexing its muscles. It’s arriving this autumn and, by all accounts, is a bad one. And bad in this context means trillions of dollars will be lost and a lot of people will die.
We now have a lethal mix of weather and climate change, each piling misery on top of the other. As a brief aside, weather is what happens and we have climate change because if we fill the atmosphere with 200 years of industrial-era pollution it will get warmer and choke. Just as our rivers choke on shit if we keep dumping long after we should have stopped. Some people still have trouble with this idea.
NASA graphic showing warming since 1880. The baseline is 1950-1980, so for readers aged 40-70, this is the before and after of your early years. 2023 will be the hottest yet, NASA predicts 2024 will be even hotter.
That most stalwart conservative publication, The Economist, reports that a heatwave is a ‘predatory event that culls out the most vulnerable people’ – the poor and the old. They add, “It slaughters silently, snuffing out more American lives each year than any other type of weather”. It used to be cold that killed the most. Climate change, says The Economist, is deadly. I find it strange that some of the most at-risk social groups are the most strident climate change deniers (a predominantly 65+ demographic).
There are 2 possible explanations for what is happening this year, and they’re both deeply worrying. It might be a blip that fits within the warming new-normal we live with or, perhaps, a more alarming acceleration in the underlying rate of change. Whichever it is, we’ve arrived in uncharted territory. Agriculture and everything we think of as modern humanity started about 10,000 years ago and has thrived during a period of climate stability. The Earth was last this hot 125,000 years ago. So while an extra degree or two might look to some like a small twitch on the global-average temperature gauge, it isn’t when you look at the increasingly wild regional climate fluctuations – as can be seen by anyone who follows the news. And so far the scientists have been right; recent temperatures and their consequences are as most climate models projected, albeit at the hotter end. What happens next is less certain.
Life is unlikely to come to a juddering halt, but it will get a lot more difficult. As ever, there’s a caveat: Reputable research published this month suggests that the deep Atlantic circulation (AMOC), which is associated with the Gulf Stream, could fail within 3 years, altho’ that’s most likely to happen mid-century (Copenhagen University). This would indeed be catastrophic.
Antarctic ice drives the deep ocean currents that set weather patterns worldwide. Is this a blip, or the early arrival of a predicted collapse? The Economist
And look at the language we’re using. A phrase that used to hover in the margins of the climate debate has gone mainstream: the positive feedback loop. Forest fires release CO2 which warms the planet causing more fires. The same applies to methane release from thawing tundra. There are also more frequent sightings of the words runaway positive feedback loop and tipping point.
In the face of this year’s extreme weather and its major economic impacts, kicking these issues down the road in the hope that something good will happen looks increasingly futile. That thought is from the Chatham House think-tank, which isn’t given to hyperbole.
At this point, I’d like to interrupt myself briefly to ask you a question or two: How many days fishing will you lose this year because our rivers and lakes are too warm? Will next year’s fishing be better or worse? How are the redds faring?
It might seem a bit of a leap from global catastrophism to a riverbank with rod in hand, but we’re all going to have to adapt (I wrote about mitigation HERE ). Call me Nero if you like, but we humans are really good at adapting. And we’re going to have to get a lot better at it in all sorts of ways.
So, this may be me fiddling while Rome burns, but I’m hoping the rate of change is going to be at the slower end of predictions. If so, I’ll need that dog I mentioned earlier. Because the simple truth is that even in the good old lazy-hazy days you couldn’t do proper slow summer fishing without a dog and, one way or another, the dog had to go in. And where once this would have happened in late July or August, nowadays May and June are the new dog-days of summer. So the dog is my consolation; a small adaptation I can look forward to and that will keep me on the bank.
Here’s how it works: The writer Ed Zern, a man of quick wit and impeccable unreliability, told of an old timer he knew back before the Second World War. A man who claimed that, if fishing a summer pool with not a salmon to be seen, would turn his attention to catching a couple of trout for the pot. His approach was unorthodox. He would tie a 6ft leader, a dropper and a couple of wet flies to his dog’s tail, and then throw a stick across the pool. The dog, of course, was thrilled to be in the chase and the angler scored two wins: The dog stirred up the salmon and improved the fishing, and also brought back a brace of equally agitated trout for supper. What happened if the dog got into a 30lb salmon is not recorded. American salmon, according to Zern, think dogs are seals. And the caveat? As said, Zern was a very unreliable witness and the trout part of his story is unusually fishy.
This also works at night, which is another cool advantage in our brave new world. Indeed, it was at night that I discovered just how effective a dog can be and why this works (even though no dogs were involved).
Late one summer’s evening, shrouded in the gloaming, I headed out on foot for a night’s Sea Trout fishing. It was that magical hour when day hands over to night and the owls, small scurrying creatures and chuntering water replace the daytime clamour. The river was low, as is the new normal (when not flooding), but Sea Trout, as they say, will run up a wet sack. The night was charged with promise.
I moved slowly up the bank, careful to arrive at my pool without spooking the fish, and then settled down to wait for darkness to wash over the river. Only once all is crow-black, bible-black, (Dylan Thomas-black) would I start to fish.
This night was different. Through the half-light, I could see a pair of otters playing exuberant otter-tag and working their way upriver towards me. Once in my pool, they started the serious business of hunting and I had a ring-side seat as two of nature’s most beautiful creatures plundered my fishing. Time flowed by and I don’t know how long I sat enchanted and uncaring that my night’s sport was being trashed before my eyes. This was already among the most memorable of fishing nights, and I was still on my backside.
Eventually, they picked up my scent and in an instant were gone. The pool stilled and the darkness settled back around me. My senses strained, but nothing moved.
I gathered myself, my rod and my minimal kit and stepped down to the river to cast a line. It felt like a futile gesture, but it was a beautiful night and I was reluctant to leave.
The line kissed the water and the pool burst into a mid-summer’s night madness. I caught an 8lb sea trout with my first cast and another of 6lb with my third. These were big fish for this river – much bigger than the expected 1-2lb schoolies. The otters had disrupted the pool and I had reaped the benefit by dropping my fly into the chaos.
And then, just as suddenly, the fish turned off. There were no fishy splashes on the margins of my senses. Just nothing – the pool had died. The fish frenzy had lasted for the 30 minutes or so it took the remaining sea trout to slough off the otter terror and revert to their normal, elusive behaviour. It was as though the otters had never existed
How long was I there that evening? I don’t know. Time had frozen into the very essence of slow fishing, which was mostly no fishing at all. The next day I told the riverkeeper my story. He smiled and said, ‘When all else fails, throw the dog in’. It’s an old saying that happens to be the just about only piece of fishing wisdom that actually works – and climate change will have to get worse before it fails.
In the UK, dogs are otters. In Canada maybe they’re bears. Zern says they’re seals.
And climate change is global, so if we keep going the way we are there will be no salmon to throw the dog at.
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Despite the fierce winds our junior members turned out in force for the penultimate competition of the junior calendar, over half the pegs on George’s lake were used.!
Poles and rods were gripped tightly as storm “Antoni” did it’s best to spoil the day.
Brodie, on peg 15 , put a cracking net of mainly carp on the scales to win the day. Paste on the pole his tactics.
Second spot went to Findley on peg 8 , his chosen tactic to combat the high winds was a method feeder.
Jenson fished similarly on peg 11 for a well earned third spot.
Despite some very challenging conditions the youngsters all managed to weigh in, well done all.
A red letter day with the match record going to Colin Cherrington with a great weight of 192lb 10oz, Colin fished peg 4 and caught steady all day on the short pole and pellets, Colin’s weight included some stunning fish topped with one of 17lb 8oz.
Second on that lake was Stephen Barrell with another impressive weight of 97lb 1oz, Steve fished peg 8 and had most of his fish on the waggler.
Top lake golden peg went to Graham Curnow with a weight of 36lb 4oz beating Stephen Craker into second on that lake with 26lb 6oz.
Recent rainfall has rejuvenated North Devon’s Rivers and the countryside bringing a lush green to the landscapes. I have reported several salmon caught from the Taw and Torridge over recent days and was delighted to make connection with a special fish myself, more of that later. On leaving the River I was delighted to receive a message from Paul Carter who had just netted a fine fresh run silver salmon from the Middle Taw estimated at 15lb.
The guys from Shady River Fishing have been enjoying some excellent fishing higher up the River catchments targeting wild brown trout. Euro Nymphing tactics producing some stunning fish in the high water conditions. The pick of recent catches being this stunning wild brown of 14” that was estimated at 2lb.
Visit ‘shady river fishing’ on Instagram.
The middle Torridge was looking close to perfect when I arrived for a morning session. Peering into the river I could easily make out the stones at a depth of 18”, the water was the colour of the finest ale. The water glistened in the morning sun and I admired a large silver wash fritillary butterfly as it settled upon bankside grass. I paused for a minute or two sitting on the bench as the river flowed past. A juvenile buzzard mewed above a sound synonymous with August and the passing of summer.
I waded into the cool water and grimaced as I felt a leak in my waders. I put a line out across the river allowing the fly to drift across the flow searching for the increasingly illusive Atlantic salmon. It was good to be here following the familiar pattern of casting, drifting and stepping down through the pool.
At the point where I knew salmon had taken my fly in the past I felt a strong pull and lifted the rod tightening into a fish for just a few seconds. A chance gone perhaps? The margins between success and failure are often small. I analysed my response to the take, had I lifted into the fish too quickly? It is good practice to allow a little slack to allow the salmon to turn down with the fly but in all honesty the delectable moment of the take is so fleeting. In truth most of the salmon I have caught have hooked themselves or at least I have difficulty in actually visualising that fleeting moment of deception and connection.
I fished on searching the river and its known lies. It has been a little disheartening so far this season to drift the fly over the lies time and time again. Fishing the river in conditions like this even ten years ago I feel certain I would at least have seen a fish jump.
Despite the lack of success and ongoing concern regarding salmon and sea trout stocks I have stubbornly retained a sense of expectation as I fish, whilst there are still salmon to be caught hope springs eternal.
The river and its surroundings have a feel of late summer, early autumn. The invasive Himalayan Balsam are sadly flourishing their pretty pink flowers attracting bees and butterflies. Vivid blue damsel flies flutter amongst the riverside vegetation. Pin head fry flit to and fro in the river’s margins.
After fishing the top of the beat I fish back down searching the water heading for my final casts of the day in the bottom pool.
I wade out into the river once again still hoping almost expectant as this pool has provided many of the salmon I have caught from the Torridge over the years. As I proceed slowly down the pool I hear the piercing call of a kingfisher and glimpse the electric blue as the bird flashes down river. My optimistic heart views this as a good omen.
As I reach the bottom of the pool the line swings round in the current. The line zips delightfully tight and the water twenty yards below erupts as a fish leaps high above the river gyrating at the lines end. The rod hoops over and the fish heads downriver as I relish the moments of drama. For a few minutes salmo-salar dictates making several strong runs and leaping several times. There are a few anxious moments as the fish lunges near to branches on the far bank. Pressure eventually starts to sap the salmon’s energy and I coax the fish up river. The fish holds station in mid river and I slip the net ready to secure my prize. There are tense moments as line is gained and lost at close quarters. I pile on the pressure and the salmon rolls into the net. I wade up to the reed fringed bank above and take a moment to admire my prize. The salmon its flanks decorated in autumn hues signifies that it has been in the river for a while. I slip the barbless hook from its jaw and take a quick couple of pictures with the salmon in the net. I then carefully slide the fish into the river cradling the fish in the current lifting its head momentarily to capture an image. The fish is strong and kicks its tail as I support it. I watch satisfied as the precious fish swims into the ale coloured water to hopefully fulfil its destiny on the spawning redds later in the winter months.
Bideford and District Angling Club
