As I’m sure you are well aware, it’s been pretty hot over the last few days in this weather it is recommended to leave the fish in both rivers and stillwaters alone. Water temperature has a massive effect on the ability of a fish to recover once it has been caught – it is generally accepted that once the water temperature is above 18°C, fish will start to become stressed (the warmer the water, the less oxygen is dissolved in it).
For the above reasons, it’s probably just best to give the fishing a miss and sit in the garden with a cold drink for the next few days – enjoy it while it lasts!
The above is good advice for those who fish rivers and small still waters. It is alarming to see how low our rivers are here in the South West. I paused to look over the wall at Barnstaple Square on a recent evening out. A large salmon was swimming lethargically close to the wall. It was sad to see this iconic fish aimlessly swimming the estuary as it waits for rain to swell the rivers enabling it to forge upriver to achieve its life goal.
A few weeks ago whilst on the lower Taw I found a dying lamprey languishing in the shallows. These prehistoric creatures have been migrating rivers since before dinosaurs roamed the land. And that is a long time ago. It is good to see that they are surviving in our rivers though it is worth thinking about their perilous existence as mankind continues to trash the world.
Are there many left who deny that climate change is happening? Are those that deny it totally removed from nature?
Wimbleball levels dropping after months of dry weather.
I joined Snowbee Ambassador Jeff Pearce at Wimbleball Lake to try for a summer rainbow. We knew conditions would be challenging with the long hot dry spell continuing to impact upon the lake and the surrounding countryside.
Jeff had already been fishing for several hours when I joined him in late afternoon. He had boated a rainbow of over 4lb and had lost a couple. We hoped that the fish would come on the feed as the hot sun sank beneath the surrounding hills.
We set off for the wooded Upton Arm to try a few drifts. The water level had dropped significantly since my last visit in Late May. The expanding shoreline revealed scars from the past with tree stumps standing high and bare like skeletons upon the barren shore. Jeff likened them to alien invaders.
Michelle Werrett has written a nostalgic feature in Fallon’s Angler that touches upon this lost valley that was flooded in the 1970’s to meet the ever increasing demand for water across the South West.
As we drift across the water it is fascinating to try and picture what this valley once looked like with deep woodland descending to the streams that flowed at their base. The wild brown trout that thrive within the lake and the minnows swimming in the margin’s descendants from this flooded landscape.
I started off with a floating line and a long leader a fab on the point and two buzzers on droppers. Jeff fished a fast sink line with booby and a fab with smaller imitative pattern between.
(Above) The vital link
After an hour without success, we headed for the deep water off the dam close to the aeration curtain. This was where Jeff had enjoyed success earlier in the day an area that often fishes well during prolonged spells of hot weather.
I changed over to a fast sink line with a bright booby on the point, a small imitative pattern on the middle dropper and a bright fab on the top dropper. There is a certain fascination with fishing down deep and slow. Expectation that a big hard fighting rainbow will seize the flies far below the boat. This expectation is fuelled as we chat with fellow anglers who have caught a few and lost several powerful fish.
After fifteen minutes Jeff hooks a hard fighting rainbow that battles gamely before being coaxed to the net. I hook a fish close to boat that slips the hook after a short tussle giving my confidence a welcome boost.
As the hot sun beats down I am pleased that I have made good use of a hat and sunglasses to protect from the hot sun. Plenty of water is essential to keep hydrated on these long hot and challenging summer days.
After several changes of tip fly I eventually tempt a hard fighting rainbow of around 2lb. A well earned reward for persisting deep and slow.
Some excellent fishing can be enjoyed on even the hottest summer days with the deep water undoubtedly the place to target as fish seek cooler waters and increased oxygen levels.
If you follow my writings over several years you will have read my ramblings regarding the Barnstaple & District Angling Clubs hut situated beside the river at Newbridge. During what was perhaps the clubs heyday this fishing hut provided a welcome meeting point where members could meet and socialise as the river glided slowly past. The river then was thriving with salmon and sea trout and the club was also thriving in unison with the healthy river.
As catches dwindled a generation of anglers drifted away from the river and the hut sadly fell into disrepair. In recent seasons the club has seen an influx of enthusiasm and just maybe some sentiment from my writings stirred a will to resurrect the hut. I have spoken with the clubs river keeper Don Hearn on several occasions and was delighted to hear that the hut is to be restored.
It was very sad to recently receive news from Don via an email that vandals have visited the hut setting fire to the old bench and wood saved to help in the restructure.
Don asked if I could highlight the issue in the hope that police could be informed to help with their enquiries.
My initial reaction at hearing this was anger; but as I thought more it was sadness that replaced the anger. The world is sadly full of angry and intolerant people. Anger is contagious hitting out in anger and frustration just extends the problem. I have to ask what is gained by vandalising and inflicting damage to the dreams and efforts of others?
I look forward to enjoying the new club hut with fellow members. There are still a few salmon in the river and we can only hope that efforts to curb pollution and the many other issues that face the river eventually bring rewards. I hope to write a full article on the huts history and its resurrection in due course.
I was delighted to look in at Quay Sports on their first year anniversary celebrations. Tackle shops have always been a central part of the angling infrastructure where anglers meet to exchange stories and plot future forays. There is nothing better for the sport and the industry than this social interaction. In addition to coffee, cakes and raffles there were fun casting games to test the skill.
Mark Potter has a few fun casts
Chris Connoughton of Quay Sports commented
“Quay sports would like to thank everyone for their support since opening. The backing we have received is amazing and to see the community come together like it has, is a joy to be a part of.
To see everyone smiling and to help a cause such a Children’s hospice southwest makes us proud.
In the end with Mark potters kind generosity and Chris Connaughton’s organisation and planning combined withthe effort of all staff and customers kindness, we managed to raise £1000 for the cause which is phenomenal!
We should also give thanks to all of our suppliers for providing some great prizes.
We are so pleased to have built up such a great store and group of people who enjoy the shop and the friendship and camaraderie that comes with it, it’s been great to see local people, anglers and non anglers alike creating their own fishing hub, where we can all meet and talk and tell fisherman’s tales to each other, it’s been fantastic.
We hope that our head quarters will remain central to the local angling community for many years to come.
So we will keep building, keep listening, and keep helping people enjoy our wonderful pastime.
Many thanks to everyone who has supported us we can’t thank you all enough.”
Pleased to secure a mystery prize in the fun casting in aid of Childrens Hospice
The River Torridge starts its journey close to the Cornish border near Meddon just a short distance from the source of the Tamar and shares many characteristics with this river.
The Torridge meanders through the heart of rural Devon gathering water from various tributaries including the Okement that flows from high on Dartmoor close to the source of its sister river the Taw. The Torridge eventually merges with the Taw in the estuary at Instow.
Rivers have their own unique characters and as an angler it is a delight to tune into this and become immersed into the ever flowing waters. I fish the Torridge throughout the salmon and trout fishing season that commences on March 1st and concludes on September 30th.
Each phase of the season is to be savoured from the cold days of early spring when wild daffodils decorate the banks to those mellow days of early autumn.
Little Warham Fishery is middle river nestled in a tranquil valley close to the village of Beaford. I joined Fly Culture Editor in Chief Pete Tyjas the day after midsummers day to target the wild brown trout that thrive within this beautiful stretch of river
After a long dry spring the river was showing its bones an all too familiar sight in recent seasons that have blighted the salmon anglers hopes. There were undoubtedly a few salmon and sea trout residing in the deeper pools. These fish may well be stirred to take an anglers fly when welcome rain falls to wake them from their slumber.
They have worked hard in those five years nurturing the river banks and restoring the farmhouse to provide stunning self-catering holiday accommodation.
Despite visiting the fishery five years ago this was my first trip to the fishery armed with a rod and I was eager to share a day’s fishing with Pete. Pete had visited the river several years ago when it was still owned by Terri Norton Smith. After a quick chat with Anthony, I bundled my gear into Pete’s four wheel drive and we set off for the river. A long and bumpy farm track eventually took us to a shaded anglers car park within the woods above the river.
It was at this point that I realised that I had left my camera, polaroids and hat on the front seat of my car back at the farm house. Fortunately, Pete had a spare hat and my phone would be adequate as back up to the camera.
We gathered our tackles and descended down the steep steps to the fishing hut depositing our lunch boxes and water. We placed our rods upon the rack beneath the hut and climbed the rustic steps. The veranda of the hut has a couple of seats on which to rest and admire the splendid view.
The inner confines are as a fishing hut should be retaining a timeless feel that has been shared by many generations of anglers. Above the fireplace is an etching of a salmon on a plank of wood. Testament to a salmon of 33lb, part of a catch of six salmon totalling 107lb made in April close to 100 years ago.
Pete and I chatted about the Torridge its history and challenges faced by the river and its salmon. Some of this chat may well be broadcast via the popular Fly Culture Pod cast.
The Torridge has inspired several authors over the years most famous of these is undoubtedly Henry Williamson, his books ‘Tarka the Otter’, ‘Salar the Salmon’ and ‘A Clear Water Stream’ weaving a rich tapestry of descriptive prose. Lemon Greys classic fishing book ‘Torridge Fishery’ tells of the fishing above Little Warham and is a worthy book for any salmon angler’s library. Charles Inniss’s book ‘Torridge Reflections” published in 2012 is a delight to read reflecting on Charles years on the river at the Half Moon Inn. The poet Laurette Ted Hughes was also inspired by the Torridge and his work is celebrated in ‘The Catch’ by Mark Wormald, published in 2022.
Pete and I were both keen to head for the river and set off to fish the upper beat above the hut on Anthony’s advice. We both set up with a duo set up a large bushy dry fly beneath which was suspended a small nymph pattern.
The river was showing its bones
The Torridge is a peaceful river running much of its length far from roads or rail unlike the Taw that is flanked throughout most of its length by both. The summer valley was filled with birdsong as we approached carefully navigating through the lush green summer foliage. It had rained the previous night and the river had we were told risen by less than two inches. There was perhaps a slight tinge of colour but it was difficult to tell as the Torridge is never crystal clear like its sister river the Taw. We were hopeful that this slight influx of fresh would stir the trout to feed but the fish do not always read the script.
With the river running so low we both agreed that the best areas to target would be the faster running riffles and runs where oxygen levels would be enhanced. This faster water also gives discerning trout less time to inspect our offerings.
A flash of electric blue flashed past above the twinkling water. The sight of a kingfisher however fleeting always lifts the spirits an image that cannot be adequately painted with words. Damsel flies were also abundant hovering above the river and alighting on the riverside cow parsley its delicate white flowers punctuating the vivid greenery of mid-summer.
The sun was beating down from a cloud free blue sky and we looked for shady lies to cast our flies. Pete wandered further upriver; I extended a line but was irritated to find I had missed out a rod ring when threading the line. A few minutes or two of retackling resolved the issue and at last I managed to put out a line on the water.
The buoyant bushy dry fly bobbed down on the surface a tiny nymph suspended beneath. I focussed intently expecting the fly to disappear at any second as a trout seized the nymph below. I worked slowly upriver searching the water without early success.
I snagged a high tussock of grass on the back cast just as the fishery owner Anthony appeared to witness my incompetence. Anthony was accompanied by his four year old son, Brook was fascinated by the mysteries of the water’s edge. I helped him to turn stones in the search for life whilst Pete chatted with Anthony about their first five years at Little Warham.
After this short interlude our quest continued. My fishing rhythm eventually arrived after a slow start. Casting a 3-weight and tiny flies was a stark contrast to the large pike flies I had been casting two days before on the vast Chew Valley Lake.
Casting into the head of a shallow run the dry fly disappeared and I lifted the rod to feel the thrilling pulse of life on the line. In a second or two it was gone a small trout that had brought a welcome slice of optimism.
The morning drifted by as we waded the river searching and reading the water as we savoured the summer river.
By midday we had covered the upper beat and decided to return to the fishing hut for a snack and a cool drink. As we walked the river bank we talked of fishing, of cricket and of people we knew.
Back at the hut it was good to take a break savouring the summer views from the open porch. The Torridge flows beneath the fishing hut through a long deep pool where it is easy to imagine salmon and sea trout resting. On the opposite bank a tall coniferous forest towered high whilst at the rivers edge mighty oaks dominate casting welcome shade across the pools. We discussed the trout’s apparent reluctance to feed reminiscing on the many excuse’s anglers concoct when the fish refuse to play the game. A bright hot summers day with a North East wind was always going to be a challenge.
A summers day work
The afternoon would surely bring its rewards. We picked up our rods and strolled down towards the bottom of the beat. A long shady run beneath a wooded bank took our fancy and whilst Pete headed towards the tail I started midway flicking out the trusty duo.
The fly disappeared, I lifted the rod and the light rod flexed in my hands. The small wild brown leapt from the river and battled gamely for a few moments. The barbless hook slipped from its jaws and I admired its beauty for a moment before allowing it to swim back from whence it had come.
The river tumbled from pool to pool cascading over rocky ridges into deeper pits. Long shallow riffles and slowly swirling eddies. The steep wooded banks and dense vegetation creating a rich habitat. Throughout the day we continued to catch welcome glimpses of kingfishers as they streaked past.
The hot sun beat relentlessly into the valley. Climbing up and down the banks and pushing through high vegetation perspiration dripping from my forehead reminded me of a jungle movie scene. With a throbbing head I recognised the early symptoms of heat stroke and set off for the fishing hut and a cool drink of water.
Always pause to admire the colours lights and shades of the day
I found Pete fishing beneath the overhanging tree canopy where he had spied rising fish. I wished him well and went on my way to the hut.
After a cool drink I wandered back to find Pete stood mid river. Izaak Walton ended his classic book the ‘Compleat Angler’ with the phrase “Study to be Quiet” a phrase that is said to embody the philosophy of tranquillity and solace in angling. It was a pleasure to watch Pete’s skill at casting a delicate line across the water emersed within a kaleidoscope of reflections.
Emersed within a kaleidoscope of reflections.
Anthony who had been cutting the grass appeared at my side and we both watched as Pete gave a commentary on the fish he had spied rising quietly under the shady bank. He had stood quietly observing and merging into the river scene. Numerous dry flies had been tried without success. After each offer to the trout, he had rested the water totally focussed upon deception. A dimple upon the surface and a tell tale ring. Pete’s line glided out the fly alighting on calm waters to drift over the fading rings. A swirl, a curse. Twice more the fish was tempted and escaped the hook! Pete reluctantly wound the line onto his reel and slowly waded towards us. Once again the water was broken by the rising fish. Pete caught the movement in the corner of his eye and stopped. Carefully he worked out the line and took careful aim dropping the dry fly precisely. The delightful moment of deception was followed by a flurry of spray. The rod pulsed and bended as the fish dashed for freedom.
It was soon safely in the net a beautiful wild brown trout with red and black speckled flanks of olive and bronze. At around a pound it was a wonderful prize earned by slowing down, observing and applying a large degree of patience and stealth.
As we walked back to the car I spied a rising fish but with throbbing head and creeping nausea I knew that the fish would have to wait for another day.
Barnstaple Tackle shop Quay Sports Celebrates its first full year of trading on Saturday 25th June.
The shop has proved a very popular venue for local anglers to catch up discuss tactics and buy bait and tackle.
They have also given considerable help with sponsorship for local angling clubs including Bideford Angling Club, Combe Martin SAC and North Devon Tackle AC. They also help to promote local fisheries.
Wistlandpound Fly Fishing Club visited Wimbleball Reservoir for their latest competition where Colin Combe won the competition with four trout for 9lb 8oz. Paul Grisley caught three trout for 7lb 14oz and Dave Mock three for 7lb 10oz. The biggest fish of the day was a rainbow of 3lb 10oz to the rod of Andre Muxworthy.
Exmoor looked splendid as I took the winding road to Wimbleball Lake, hills and woods lush and green illuminated by the morning sun.
It was a delight to load the boat, start the motor and head out for a day on the lake in search of the lake’s renowned trout. I generally fish the boat with a partner but on this trip arranged at the last minute I was fishing solo.
Each day’s fishing is a blank canvas and the picture will be painted by choices made during the day. Where to fish, tactics to employ all influenced by weather, experience and of course the often unpredictable trout. Playing this fascinating game of chess with nature has been a healthy addiction throughout my life.
I headed across to Cow Moor Bay and drifted the boat, casting a team of flies into the margin. The occasional fish was rising and I was hopeful that they would start to rise throughout the day as beetles were blown onto the water. Recent reports told of some impressive catches of wild browns and rainbows to dry fly tactics with foam beetle patterns working well.
After half an hour without a pull I decided to head for the wooded Upton Arm one of my favourite areas of the lake. I chugged along in my boat admiring the lush green woodland. Flocks of Canada geese eyed me from the shore line as I passed. Old tree stumps showed high and dry exposed like skeletons as the water recedes following yet another long dry spring.
The Upton Arm its banks shrouded in dense woodland has a unique character of its own. The occasional trout were taking beetles close into the margin and I cut the motor allowing the boat to drift in the gentle breeze. A wild brown of perhaps 12oz seized the dry beetle pattern and gave a spirited account on the 5/wt rod and floating line. I admired the fish in the clear water slipping out the barbless hook without lifting the fish from its environment. These are truly stunning looking wild fish with vivid spotted flanks.
Another brown of close to a pound followed taking a coch-y-bonddu wet fly on a dropper. The occasional larger rainbow were slurping down dries but seemed hard to tempt.
By now there was little breeze and white fluffy clouds were drifting across the brilliant blue summer sky. The haunting call of a cuckoo drifted across the lake. I glimpsed fish cruising in the crystal clear water and savoured the moments pouring a sweet coffee from the flask and enjoyed a snack. Its moments like these that endure in the memory on those cold winter days and when life is on one of its down turns.
A rainbow of perhaps two pounds sucked down my foam beetle and gave a good account on the light outfit.
Whilst the occasional fish continued to rise it was no frantic hatch and I felt that the majority of fish were not rising. Changing tactics slightly I switched to my 7/ wt rod and a team of flies with a slow sinking booby on the point with a coch-y-bonddu wet fly on the dropper. A good fish was cruising a few feet off the margin and I watched intently as it approached my flies. The line twitched and I pulled tight to feel that pleasing resistance and a flash of flank as the fish reacted in the clear water. The fish took off for deep water testing the tackle, powered by its full tail. The fish would probably have pushed the scales towards 4lb. I captured an image of the fish in the net before releasing it. With warming water and hard fighting fish it is vital to net the fish quickly and release with only minimal time out of the water. Fishing alone I chose to take no self-portraits with the fish.
On a hunch I changed the tip fly to a bright sunrise blob. I cast this out and allowed it to sink slowly before beginning a slow retrieve. I could see the bright blob in the clear water and watched as a rainbow cruised towards it. I gave a twitch to induce interest and observed the trout’s mouth open and engulf the blob. I stripped the line tight and connected relishing the joy of sight fishing. During the next half an hour two more rainbows succumbed to the same tactics each one hooked by watching the fish take the fly. If I had waited for the line to twitch or feel a pull I would not have caught. A good pair of polaroid’s being an invaluable tool on this occasion.
The vivid bright sunrise blob seems so out of place and is far removed from any natural food the fish might find. What triggers the response from the trout? Is it curiosity? It’s not aggression as I was not retrieving fast so I can only assume they think its food and need to sample it. There are certainly no hatches of sunrise blob flies to imitate! These nuances make this whole thing so fascinating. Another question could be why did I choose to tie on a bright gaudy fly? To this I would answer that it was a hunch based on previous experience and the old mantra of the salmon angler to use bright flies on bright days.
Whilst there were a few fish around there is always the nagging thought that there will be more elsewhere and by mid-afternoon this lead me to leave the sheltered waters of the Upton arm and head for a breezy Cow Moor.
An hour drifting around Cow Moor brought no action and there were few fish rising so I decided to head for Bessoms.
The open expanse of Bessom’s and Rugg’s was a total contrast to the intimate wooded Upton Arm. A couple of youngsters were basking in the sun with loud dance music blasting across the lake. I started a drift and after five minutes felt a savage tug as a rainbow of close to four pounds hit the sunrise blob. This was to be the last fish of the day and gave a superb account as most of these Wimbleball rainbows do.
I fished on until around half past six having a few more casts in Cow Moor before mooring the boat and heading for home. It had been a great day with six rainbows between 2lb and 4b with a couple of stunning wild browns. Whilst the fishing is not always easy its always rewarding and on a summer day Wimbleballs vistas of moorland, woodland and pasture are truly stunning.
It was good to be there; walking into the river surrounded by the vibrancy of late Spring. Lush green growth lined the river bank and birds flitted to and fro disappearing into the dense foliage to feed their broods. I stood in the river and put a line across the flow allowing it to drift before imparting a bit of life to the fly with a few pulls on the line. The river was very low but a few spells of light rain had perhaps put a slight tinge of colour into the water.
I was delighted to note large numbers of swifts swooping in the evening sky occasionally swooping low over the water emitting their characteristic screeching cry. Sand martins too in profusion with an abundance of insect life propelling a feeding frenzy.
After fishing the first run I moved on down and noticed a fish bow waving at the tail of a pool. Sea trout or shad I wasn’t sure; it wasn’t a mullet that can often be glimpsed here on the club water well above the tide.
I waded out into the next run and was thrilled to see a salmon leap from the water opposite. This brought about a feeling of expectation that was fuelled further as two more salmon leapt from the river further down the run. The river felt alive and for a the next half an hour I believed it could happen.
Then a cool wind picked up blowing upriver making casting more difficult. The river seemed to switch off and my confidence ebbed away. My phone rang; “Are you heading home its getting dark”.
I walked back to the car across the the field as drizzle began to fall. It had been good to be at the river and to see a salmon leap was reward enough for it renewed the belief and showed that silver prizes still await.
The Taw and Torridge are both running very low and most anglers have given up hoping for fresh fish. It is however always worth having a cast as Simon Hillcox found out when he drifted a fly across a middle Torridge beat. In a short half an hour spell he hooked and landed three fresh run salmon. There are also reports of a few fresh fish lower Taw beats. I addition a shad estimated at 3lb was hooked and carefully returned by an angler fishing the Weir Marsh and Brightly Beat on the Taw. With fish seen jumping in the estuary anglers are hoping for some heavy rain to encourage a good run of fish into the rivers.
Footnote :- Inspired by the news of Simon’s salmon Paul Carter headed to a Lower Taw beat to catch a 9lb sea liced salmon.
If you follow my writings over several years you will have read my ramblings regarding the Barnstaple & District Angling Clubs hut situated beside the river at Newbridge. During what was perhaps the clubs heyday this fishing hut provided a welcome meeting point where members could meet and socialise as the river glided slowly past. The river then was thriving with salmon and sea trout and the club was also thriving in unison with the healthy river.
