DULVERTON AGM and Fishing Talk

Dulverton Anglers Association AGM was held on Friday, February 21st in the Anchor Inn at Exebridge. I have been a member of the club for a couple of years and have enjoyed a few pleasurable days exploring their extensive waters on the Upper Exe and its tributaries.

The club is a long established one and its committee undoubtedly hard working and committed to providing good fishing, protecting the environment and nurturing a friendly network of anglers. The AGM was conducted in a calm professional manner with those friendly moments of warm banter that make all feel welcome and relaxed.

It is fair to say looking around the room that the majority of members fit the expected dynamic of a fly fisher pursuing the gentle art. Most with a few exceptions are of an older generation with greying or thinning hair with the occasional ache and pain. There is however no lack of passion for the river environment its fish and the desire to cast a line. I state this ageing dynamic as there is often a debate around the future with a lack of younger generation anglers. More on that later.

Catch returns show that brown trout and grayling fishing remains good with no significant concerns. The acquisition of Old Woman’s Beat is a significant milestone for the club and its first season saw many members fishing this historic beat. Over 250 brown trout were registered, close to 90 grayling and one sea trout. It is sad that no salmon were caught as this was once regarded as one of the prime salmon beats on the Upper Exe. Sea trout have never been a significant catch on the Exe system which is strange as the river shares many characteristics of other West Country Rivers that still boast good sea trout runs.

Old Womans Beat

One member present was Nicholas Fitton who has recently had his second book published, ‘Gently Down the Stream’. The Forgotten Art of Downstream Wet-Fly Fishing. ( his first book was ‘In Search of Wild Trout , Published in 1992) I asked Nicholas if he would kindly sign my recently purchased copy of the book and he duly obliged. His opening question to me was; Are you a downstream or upstream man? I replied that I cast to the fish where they lie be that upstream or down. In many of our wild rivers with overhanging tree’s there is surely no room for dogma and outdated tradition.

In so called liberated days it is perhaps strange that many still hold onto traditions of the past. It is perhaps a contradiction in stating this that I admit to a great fondness for angling literature from the early days of the last century and savour the words of some of the sports greatest writers. H T Sheringham, George A B Dewar, Sir Edward Grey, E. A. Barton, G.E.M Skues and of course F.M. Halford. These great writers hale from what was perhaps the golden age of angling when fly fishing traditions were established.

  We chatted at length about fishing and Fly-fishing and reminisced about a time when we were young and commenced our angling journey.  Freedom to explore the countryside and fish are common themes I have discussed with many anglers who shared those same decades. As young anglers we of course followed no rules drifting worms to catch wild trout and only learning the delights of fly-fishing as we progressed. I sometimes wonder if we should have open stretches of rivers where junior anglers can fish without the restraints of rules. Young anglers are the future and it is imperative that we engage them in fishing and nature. In the old days I feel sure the keepers of the river would occasionally turn a blind eye to the young child flicking a worm or knub of cheese to trout. Primula soft cheese worked for me, along with grasshoppers and flakes of mothers pride.

            I am looking forward to reading Nicholas’s book and learning more of the art of downstream flyfishing. ( Will write a review on the book on here in due course) The complete fly angler will surely be adept at all methods dictated to by the flow of the water and the ways of the trout.

The official meeting business was followed by a talk from Angling Trust representative Alex Van Wienen who highlighted the many services, avenues for advice and funding the Angling Trust offers to member clubs.

A delicious and plentiful buffet was provided to close the meeting the remains of which fed the associations habitat working party the following day as they cleared paths of debris on one of their beats in accordance with the landowners wishes. The association organise various working parties throughout the year and plans to work with the Environment Agency later in the summer to help tackle invasive Himalayan balsam.

WATER COLOUR – OPPORTUNITY

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Not certain if this is open to non-club members but my guess is that a generous bid could seal the deal!

Good morning all anglers!

https://dulvertonanglingassociation.org.uk

Dulverton Angling Association  has very generously been given an original watercolour by William Shepherd dated 1926, please see the picture. size 8 x 6 inches.
Shepherd painted out on the water around Plymouth and Brixham, the boat having a Brixham registration.
We are looking for offers over £100 to start the bidding, please email your best offer to us by the end of June. Just remember the value the DAA offers in terms of quality fishing..
Many thanks for your consideration.
James

Lance Nicholson

Fishing & Guns
9 High Street
Dulverton
TA22 9HB
01398 323409

A Meandering Winter Stream

       I joined Dulverton Anglers Association in 2023 intending to explore the waters of the Exe and Barle that wind their way through the wooded valleys around Dulverton. As is often the case ambitions are not always met and I failed to make a single trip to their waters in 2023. We do however visit Dulverton on a regular basis and generally call into Lance Nicholson’s Tackle and Gun Shop to talk of the river or buy a few flies.

       Having already sorted my 2024 subscription I was determined to start exploring their waters and pledged to pursue the grayling of the Exe and its tributaries as soon as conditions allowed.

       Grayling are true fish of the winter months and give a great excuse to visit the water. The South West is not known for its prolific grayling fishing with just a handful of rivers supporting stocks of these enigmatic fish often referred to as the ladies of the stream.

       The grayling of these Exmoor streams have been lingering in my mind for many years. Several decades ago, my wife and I attended a fishing event at the Carnarvon Arms. The Carnarvon Arms was a renowned Country Hotel that hosted many visiting anglers and country sports enthusiasts. A stand at the event was hosted by an elderly gentlemen who talked of grayling enthusiastically and fondly. Sadly, the Carnarvon Arms has now been converted into flats its legacy now just a distant and fading memory.

       Fortunately, time has been kind to these rivers and whilst the salmon are in steep decline there is an everlasting and deep character that still flows. Negley Farson waxed lyrical about the Exmoor waters in his classic tome ‘ Going Fishing’.

“ I think the best thing to call it is a certain quiet decency. This almost unchanging English scene, with its red and green rolling hills, holds a romance that wild rocks, and wild flowers, or snow capped volcanoes could never give you. It has a gentleness, a rich rustic worth, and an unostentatiousness that is like the English character. An imperturbable      scene which fills you with contentment.”

       These streams are still inspiring authors to this day with Michelle Werrett’s latest book ‘ Song Of The Streams’, maintaining a rich literary vein that links the past to the present.

       It was -5 degrees when I left home to drive across Exmoor. There was no hurry as I left home at around 9:30 hoping that the worst of the ice would have melted. The sun was well up in the sky as I drove across Winsford Hill yet the road glistened with white frost.

       I arrived at Dulverton at around 10:30 and called into Lance Nicholson’s to get detailed instruction where to park to access my chosen beat on the River Haddeo. I purchased a hot pasty in Tantivy’s; a shop and café that I assume gained its name from the late Captain Tantivy an old English squire who rode with the hunt as mentioned in Farson’s “Gone Fishing’.

       At the fishing hut I assembled my tackle whilst munching on a Cornish pasty and hot sweet coffee from my flask. I set off to the river unsure of the route to take. The Haddeo starts its journey high on the Brendon Hills its route punctuated by Wimbleball Reservoir that has become a mecca for Stillwater trout fishers.

       The beat I was to fish runs through a Private Country estate and walking across the frosty field to the water I heard the volleys of shots from the shoot. The convoy of guns vehicles were parked up in the field across the valley. The pickers and their dogs worked away further up the valley and a team of beaters were undoubtedly working the woods and cover beyond.

       The river was running fairly low and clear. I descended into the cold water carefully negotiating the barbed wire that will rip waders whatever the price tag!

       And so, the search began with two gold headed nymphs carefully flicked into the rushing stream. It is a delight to explore a new water especially if it is wild and characterful as this beat is.

       As I waded upstream a gamekeeper attired in traditional  tweeds wandered across the field and made a friendly enquiry as to my success. I explained that it was my first visit to the water and that I hoped to catch a grayling. I don’t know if he was a fisher but he gave me encouragement telling me that there were some lovely looking pools up through the river valley.

       I waded on clambering through the arch made by an ivy clad fallen tree. Icicles gripped the branches as they caressed the clear and icy water.

 

       The river tumbled over a stony bed meandering through the valley. The signs of pheasant rearing were all around and I caught the occasional whiff of cordite from the shoot drifting in the cold frosty air.

       I carefully made my way upriver searching each likely looking pool methodically. I was using a long rod adopting Euro Nymphing tactics. I focused intently upon the bright orange leader as it entered the water tightening the line each time it twitched as the flies bounced the rocky riverbed.

       Luck was certainly on my side for the flies came free each time they snagged the bottom. And even the trees failed to rob me of the expensive nymphs that were tied to gossamer thin 3.5 b.s fluorocarbon that tested my ability to focus through lens of recently prescribed varifocals.

       As I wandered the river bank I observed the occasional wren flitting through the branches and the ever present red breasted robin.

       A buzzard mewed above the trees and cock pheasants strutted arrogantly in the frosty fields safe for a few days now  and with just a week of the shooting season left likely to survive into the warmer days of Spring.

       I peered into the flowing water hoping to glimpse my quarry but the river seemed devoid of fish. I knew that grayling were present yet connection seemed less probable as the number of fruitless casts mounted.

       I flicked my flies into another likely spot struggling to see the leader as strong sunshine shone into my face. I perceived the pausing of the line and lifted the rod to feel the magical and delightful pulse of life. The grayling gyrated strongly in the water and I took a step downstream releasing the net from my back in anticipation. The prize was just a few  inches from the nets frame when the hook hold gave, the silver fish disappearing back into the clear tumbling water.

       Would this be my only chance? Grayling are shoal fish so I figured that there could be more in this small pool. I retraced my steps dropping the flies into the pool again. After a couple of casts, the line tightened and after a short tussle I netted a grayling of perhaps 8oz.

       I admired silver flanks and crimson dorsal fin, grabbing its portrait before letting it flip away into its home water.

       I fished on contentedly a blank averted and confidence restored so that I fished with belief and conviction. Covering some promising lie’s, I strolled until I came close to the top of the beat.

Woodsmoke drifted up from the chimneys of cottages across the valley. I savoured the rural scene as I worked my way back downstream revisiting promising pools. In a deep slowly moving pool the leader stabbed down and once again I connected to another grayling. This one was bigger than the first a fish of perhaps 12oz that was once again admired before slipping back into the Haddeo.

       As the sun began to sink lower into the sky I fished on down with no further action. I reached the bottom of the beat and clambered over a style that allowed access to the river beside an old stone bridge. I descended into the river and waded beneath the old bridge contemplating the cars above racing around the troubled modern world.

       I arrived back at the car poured hot coffee from my flask and reflected upon another perfect day beside a meandering stream.