Fading Silver

 


It’s almost Mid-May and the evenings are long with dusk now lingering well past 9.00pm. I always seem to be caught out not fully appreciating the onset of Summer realizing all too soon that it’s getting towards the longest day and that those days will once again start to shorten. In the words of that Pink Floyd song;
Staying home to watch the rain
You are young and life is long
And there is time to kill today
And then one day you find
Ten years have got behind you
No one told you when to run
You missed the starting gun

I arrived at the fishing hut early evening pleased to be at the beat for only the second time this season. I was half expecting there to be another angler fishing but I had the fishing to myself. I had brought my salmon rod and a light trout rod just in case the trout were rising and could be tempted on a dry fly.
The river looked to be in fine fettle a perfect height and good clarity. I watched the river carefully for signs of life but no fish moved.
I left the trout rod in the hut and approached the water’s edge extended a line across the water and drifted a silver stoat’s tail across the river. I made my way carefully negotiating the slippery rocks coated in slimy algae. My casting could be better I thought, no sweet rhythm this evening.
After a few steps I was startled by a head appearing just a couple of feet from the rod tip. The large otter rolled again a further few yards down river. There are some who curse the otter for it predates upon the salmon and sea trout. I take a slightly different view for whilst I fear for the salmon I accept that otters have hunted this river for centuries. There was once an abundance of salmon in this beautiful river more than enough for angler and otter.
I feel sure that if I had stood on this river bank just thirty years ago salmon and sea trout would be leaping from the water crashing back with loud splashes that would fuel the anticipation.

In the shadows sea trout would have leapt their heavy splashes rising the anglers anticipation.

This evening the ever flowing river heads to the estuary and the ocean beyond. During my two hours I drift my fly in fading hope. There are no glimpses of silver, the river banks are lush and green. The scent of wild garlic drifts in the warm evening air. But despite the natural beauty all around I cannot help but dwell upon the lack of salmon and sea trout. As a young angler I assumed the salmon and sea trout would always run the river or at least throughout my lifetime. Sadly I realize that this may not be so as the actions of mankind decimate the natural world and in particular the rivers those arteries of the land.
In recent months I have been involved in the screening of the film Riverwoods to audiences across North Devon. The film suggests solutions to the demise of salmon. After the film I give a presentation about salmon decline in the South West and beyond. I talk of the plight of salmon, their decline in my lifetime and suggest ways that we can all delay their route to extinction.
I ponder upon the salmon’s plight as I pack away my tackle. The angler, the otter and the salmon are all perhaps on borrowed time unless we act to bring our rivers back to life.
As I step from the River I again see the Otter heading back up river where Henry Williamsons fictional Tarka may well have swum. I read the tale recently a book that records a time of abundance full of cruelty but all within a more balanced natural world before a burgeoning population brought us to our present place in history.

Spot the otter – Right of the rivers centre.

And you run and you run to catch up with the sun but it’s sinking
Racing around to come up behind you again
The sun is the same in a relative way but your older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

My next trip to the river will be to the higher reaches where the water still glistens running clear with vibrant beautiful crimson spotted brown trout in abundance.
Fishing is good for the soul and we really need to celebrate the wonderful nature that we still have around us. The fleeting glimpse of electric blue as a kingfisher flashes past. The swooping swift, the evocative call of the cuckoo, the cheerful chirp of the chiff chaff.
That great Countryside writer BB’s books include the rather poignant words.
The wonder of the world, the beauty and the power, the shapes of things, their colours, lights and shades, these I saw, Look ye also while life lasts
I wonder what BB would make of today’s world?

Out of Minehead – Ray and hounds with CMSAC

After several aborted trips due to bad weather it was good to eventually get back out to sea on a Combe Martin SAC boat trip out of Minehead with Steve Webber skipper of Osprey Charters. As a club we have been fishing with Steve for many years a skipper who has provided us with some exciting fishing trips over the decades.

On this day we had six anglers on board two of which are good friends who kindly came along filling vacant places left by club members who could not make the trip.

The forecast for once promised calm seas, light winds and perhaps a little sunshine!

The boat was due to sail from the harbour at 10:30am so a rendezvous at the Minehead Witherspoon’s was arranged at 9:00am. This proved an unwise move in some ways as discussing the days fishing prospects over a full English was difficult as it appeared that Butlins stags had invaded in numbers. Alcohol in quantity at 9:00am certainly fuelled the volume making hearing a little challenging for those of us who have impaired hearing. Like many anglers we are getting on a bit!

And so we climbed onto Osprey all pleased to be leaving the raucous delights of Minehead to the young Butlin brigade.

Steve welcomed us with an ever cheery greeting and we set off for familiar fishing grounds to the West of Minehead. The tide was ebbing as Steve dropped anchor at the first mark. The steep wooded cliffs were lush and green. The sea a pleasing calm beneath a blue sky interspersed with light white cotton wool clouds.

Fishing talk flowed freely with a bit of local politics, reminisce and fishy tales thrown into the mix.

         I think I was lucky to catch the first fish a small smoothound. Dogfish were to prove a menace throughout the day snaffling baits intended for more worthy fish.

Jack Phillips caught a smoothound of perhaps seven pounds that gave a good account and was the first of several caught throughout the day.  The best a fish of around ten pounds to my good friend Bruce Elston his first of the species and a welcome catch adding to his impressive tally of species across salt and freshwater.

Bruce Elston with a double figure hound.

Ray were the main target and several small eyed ray were tempted at this first mark of the day.

Club Secretary Nick Phillips with a nice small eyed ray.

Jack hooked a very good fish that put a healthy bend in his rod before severing the 60lb b.s hook length after a ten minute tussle in a strong tide.

A battle lost…what was it?

As the tide eased towards low water. Steve up anchored and steamed further west to a renowned area for ray.

I decided to drop down my down-tider for the first time having concentrated on Up-tiding for the first couple of hours. A mackerel head and flappers was devoured within a few moments of it hitting the seabed. A large huss of just over 10lb appeared on the murky water surface and I was pleased when it slid safely into the net. They have an annoying habit of spitting out the bait on the surface.

A steady succession of hounds and ray were brought to the boat. Steve kept us fully hydrated with tea and coffee throughout. Friendly banter flowed and the sun shone down.

Peter Robinson

Keith Armishaw with a small eyed ray

As the tide flooded we made a couple more moves to new areas based upon Steve’s extensive knowledge of this spectacular stretch of Somerset coastline.

Our last mark was close to where we had started and after a quiet start gave a frantic last hour with several small-eyed nudging double figures and a stunning thornback to Peter Robinson.

I lost a good fish that slipped the hook just a few yards from the boat. A good smoothound or a big bass? I will never know.

 

 

Jack Phillips with a good small eyed ray

After close to nine hours at sea Steve called last orders and we steamed back to Minehead. The sun was sinking in the west as we washed down the boat. It had been a great day typical of a day out of Minehead its murky waters home to an array of ray and other species. All within a very short steam of the port.

Steve and his family have three charter boats and Speed-bait operating out of Minehead. Check links below:-

https://www.charterboats-uk.co.uk/osprey-minehead/

https://www.teddieboycharters.co.uk

https://www.speedbait.online

 

 

 

The flyfishing season is off to a promising start at the Arundell..

A few early sea trout have already been taken by rods further down the Tamar, and will be expected up with us in the next few weeks. A couple of salmon have also been hooked but not landed by rods lower downstream, and with good water levels we expect to see a fresh fish in our beats any time soon.

 

COMBE MARTIN SAC – PUTSBOROUGH OPEN – MAY 18th 2024

Combe Martin SAC Host their popular annual Putsborough Open on Saturday May 18th. The event is once again generously sponsored by Sakuma Tackle and Quay Sports with valuable prize bundles for at least  the top ten anglers.

Full details on Poster Below

Last year was one of the post succesful competitions so far with large numbrers of fish brought to the scales. See link below :-

Putsborough 2023 – A ray and hound bonanza

WIMBLEBALL FASTMAIL PAIRS MATCH

Great turnout for our Fastmail pairs competition over the weekend. Winners were Martin Williams & Darren Blackburn who recorded a total weight including time bonus of 40lb 11ozs. 2nd place went to Andrew Gooding & Paul who recorded a weight of 37lb 13ozs. 3rd place went to Wayne Thomas & Matt Kingdom with a bag weight of 32lb 8ozs. Thanks to all the anglers for your support…

Calm waters greeted Matt Kingdom, myself and other competitors as we assembled for the 2024 Fastmail Pairs Match at Wimbleball Reservoir. A day out on Wimbleball with good friend and experienced Fly angler Matt is always a joy. It’s also a good idea to pair up with an England Team member.

There was a buzz of anticipation in the air as lines were threaded through the rod rings and favoured patterns tied to the tippets. Some had practiced the day before and had an idea of where to head. I was told that there had been a good hatch of bright blobs the previous day and that this could be a wise fly choice!

Shortly after 9:00am Mark Underhill gave a briefing to all competitors with rules explained before giving the go ahead to depart and go fishing.

The start off reminded me of a slightly shambolic Grand National Start as competitors boats milled around before the starting signal was given. Competitors set off and Matt and I paused to see where everyone was heading. One thing I quickly learned from Matt is that observation is a key factor in competitive angling.

We headed straight for Cowmoor Bay an area that had been producing a few fish and an area that we had both done well in during previous visits.

It was a beautiful morning to be on the water with warm sunshine and a very light cyclonic breeze. The wooded banks and gently rolling arable land a delightful backdrop on this May morning. A time of year when the English countryside is at its most beguiling.

The occasional fish was rising but we soon realised that we had made a wrong choice when we saw a boat heading back to the pontoons at 10:30am, presumably with their ten fish bag complete.

A change of area was required as by this time Matt had caught one nice rainbow and I had had one follow.

We moved to the Dam end of the lake where most competitors seemed to be concentrating their efforts. We drifted the deep water in the gentle breeze. My line zipped tight and I was into a hard fighting full tailed rainbow a moment that was given added value when that evocative sound of the cuckoo drifted across the lake.

My first fish of the day a silver bar with a full tail that reminded me of fresh run grilse.

Over the following two and a half hours we picked up fish on most drifts with Matt’ s competitive experience undoubtedly scoring for us as we fished hard Matt ending with seven rainbows to my three.

Matt Kingom with the full tailed rainbow that completed our ten fish bag.

We headed back to the pontoon with our trout and weighed in to record 32lb 8oz inclusive of our time bonus.

Despite being close to four hours later than the winning pair at completing our bag it was pleasing to end up in third place.

         It had been a very enjoyable day. Many thanks to fishery manager  Mark Underhill and Jeff Pearce from Snowbee who worked very hard on the day ensuring that all went to plan. Thank you to Phil Dixon for organising the day and providing prizes and goodie bags.

 

All the Gear and No Eye Deer !

 

Strange game this fishing lark and angler’s fishy targets that vary considerably. Bream are a species that are loved by some and loathed by others. My own feelings on bream go back a long way and they are a fish I have mixed feelings for rather like eels. Small skimmers are slimy creatures only worth catching during match’s and a complete nuisance when targeting bigger fish. Eels are much the same with slimy bootlaces tangling the tackle whilst snatching bait offered to a more worthy specimen.

Big eels and big bream are both worthy targets that hold a spell over a dedicated hard core of specimen anglers. The dedicated tunnel visioned  carp angler view both species as vermin cursing at the hooking of either species regardless of its specimen proportions. A bream or eel that would be a fish of a lifetime to some anglers is tossed back without weighing by many carp fanatics.

Big bream have eluded me over the years and they are not a species I have targeted to any great extent. I have caught bream to over 8lb from Hatchett Pond in Hampshire under the guidance of a good friend twenty five years or so ago and I once tempted a 7lb bream from the tidal Exe whilst fishing for carp.

Recent seasons I have heard many reports of the big bream that reside in Lower Tamar Lake. At first I tended to treat these reports from carp anglers with a degree of scepticism when they told me of bream well over ten pounds that they had caught but not bothered to weigh.

My sceptical nature on this occasion proved to be wrong as more  pictures started to appear of big bream that had been weighed several of them well over ten pounds.

These specimen bream were on my list of target species yet time as always seems an issue as I spend my time pursuing many fish and balancing this with family, home life and a little work.

My first trip after bream was back in May 2021 when I enjoyed a session banking one nuisance carp of 19lb 4oz! I jest for in truth I am pleased to catch anything that bends the rod and a 19lb carp is far better than a blank.

The bream remained on my bucket list but for one reason or another I didn’t get back to them until earlier this year when I persuaded my good friend Bruce Elson to join me at the venue. Bruce had already achieved his target of a double figure bream after just two trips.

The night before the trip I picked up a couple of books from my bookshelf and flicked through the pages looking for a few nuggets of info regarding specimen bream fishing. Renowned specimen anglers talked of long sessions and many blanks chasing specimen bream. Judging by the efforts of these anglers and the results I was hearing about it was obvious that Lower Tamar is an exceptional venue for specimen bream.

In late April Bruce and I lugged our barrows full of gear to what had proved productive swims on the lake. We talked tactics and I noted Bruce’s approach. We had pulled straws to select swims and Bruce assured me that my swim was a cracker as was his.

Last year I had fished Roadford Reservoir during the carp removal project and purchased a sack of pigeon conditioner a renowned particle bait for carp. I had cooked this up and added a tin of sweetcorn and a few pellets. I spodded the best part of a bucketful out the suggested number of wraps. Strange how carp anglers have now created a language of their own. Twenty years ago I would have looked puzzled if someone told me they were fishing at 15 wraps.

In old terms this was about 60 metres.

         This spodding out of bait is a bit tedious and took close to an hour. We had arrived shortly after midday and it was late afternoon before the baits were in place and the bivvy assembled. Time to make a cup of coffee and sit back.

         We didn’t expect much action until after dark so when Bruce called me over to his swim well before darkness I was surprised. I stood waiting at his side as he reeled in a fish that was undoubtedly a big bream. The sight of the bronze flanks as it appeared were certainly impressive. At 9lb 5oz it was an encouraging start.

9lb 4oz an encouraging start for Bruce

Bruce recasts in the fading light.
Watching the fading light

Shortly after dark Bruce’s call came again and this time it was a truly special fish. I slipped the net under a real slab weighing an impressive 13lb!

          This set the pattern for the night as Bruce woke me periodically to show me bronze flanked bream weighing 9lb 13oz, 9lb 1oz, 12lb 1oz and 11lb 4oz. And a small eel…. A breamers dream session!

         I must have had some sleep for I awoke just before 6.00am and recast my rods. Not a bleep all-night.

13lb a truly impressive fish!

I chatted with Bruce in an analysis of my failure. Bruce expressed that he was concerned when I had told him I was using pigeon conditioner. An excellent bait for carp but he and his brother had used it in France to deter the bream!

Return trip

And so a few weeks later with plenty of big bream being reported I headed to Lower Tamar once again. This time I was on my own and it was late Sunday afternoon by the time I arrived. The prime swims were occupied so I had to fit in where I could and a swim named Fishless Corner failed to inspire. I knew it had produced the target fish in recent weeks and reasoned that my chances were still good. I spodded out a mix of pellets, sweetcorn and crushed boilies.

It was early evening by the time I was settled in waiting. I watched the water, the grebes and that ever pleasing sight of mother duck and her ducklings patrolling the margins. I cooked up a burger, made a fresh coffee and became emersed in the scene.

         The light slowly drained from the day and a stillness enveloped the lake. The birdsong became subdued and hundreds of bats appeared as the stars began to twinkle in the night sky.

I climbed into the sleeping bag expectant and alert. Slowly I drifted into a shallow sleep waking from time to time. My expectation was fading as the sky slowly lightened as the sun returned for another day. A movement caught my eye in the half light as a rat scampered onto the boards at the front of the swim, its form clearly silhouetted against the dim light. The dawn chorus slowly increased in volume familiar sounds of birdsong resonating in the still light of dawn. I am always amazed at the volume and clarity delivered by the tiny wren. I have an app on my phone called Merlin that identifies birdsong. Wren, chiffchaff, goldcrest, wood pigeon, carrion crow and blackbird all recorded in 60 seconds.

 

Reflections of lush green and blue sky upon mirror calm waters. Mist drifted across the far side of the lake it was a perfect late spring morning. I sat back and breathed in the pure cool air savouring the sharp taste of hot freshly brewed coffee. I contemplated upon my lack of success and philosophically accepted that in the grand scheme of life not catching was of little consequence. To be here was surely worth the chase.

I contemplated upon my lack of success and philosophically accepted that in the grand scheme of life not catching was of little consequence. To be here was surely worth the chase.

As a gentle breeze riffled the water all hope of catching evaporated and I packed slowly away. As I pushed my barrow full of gear back to the car I had to concede clearly that I had all the gear and no idea.

         Back at the car I met a fellow angler. “ How did you get on ?” I asked.  He replied that he was, “ delighted to have caught a 29lb common carp but had been plagued by nuisance bream that were this big!” He stretched his arm wide to indicate  the size of bream within my dreams.

         I will be back third time lucky. In a different swim with modified rigs and hopefully no requirement to find a reason that I failed to connect.