A Lesson Learned…..

It’s funny how after all these years I can still miss the obvious. I spend a couple of hours on the Usk this afternoon and waste the first ninety minutes fishing where there are no fish. I think ‘fishing where the fish are’ must be one of the golden rules of fishing…. and I break it.

The Usk is a big river and with no discernible hatch, the trout spread out. I aim for a little stretch, a long bubble line where I have caught on several recent visits and with little thought I set up to prospect with a dry. It’s mid afternoon, overcast and with a good chance of a shower. There are no fish rising. After a while I switch to the duo, with the same spectacular lack of success. I’m happy to be out fishing and continue going through the motions.

I assume that because we’ve had some rain and the temperature has dropped I will find trout in the long tails where I have caught them before.

For an hour and a half I see no fish and get no interest on any fly.

I take a break and sit on the bank. Looking down on the river I realise that I’ve got it all wrong. The water temperature is still high and although we’ve had some rain the river is still relatively low. Trout are going to seek out the oxygenated water or lie deep in the cooler pools. I wander upstream to the first stretch of quicker water. I switch tactics to two nymphs, a Jon Barnes black magic on the point and a pheasant tail with a red tag on the dropper.

I’ve also switched to the specialist nymph line and I’m targeting the pocket water and food seams as they fan out across the river. Today I only have my Sage SLT with me, a fantastic dry rod but not renowned for tight line nymphing. I make do.

I need to cross the river to get into the best position on the drift and just two casts in, I hook and net my first brownie. In less than twenty minutes I catch three more from the same run. Three are about 12″ with the best at 14″. I should have thought more and started here when I arrived.

The last hook up is the most satisfying, even though the fish throws the fly. I cast over my left shoulder and manage to land the nymphs just to the side of a prominent boulder. As they drift below I lift the flies a little and induce an aggressive take, probably the best fish today, but I can’t control his initial jump and he’s gone.

I head back, as today I can’t stay and fish into the evening and this season most fish have come late in the day.

It’s true that from the start of the year I’ve caught less trout from the Usk per hour fished than any previous season. I’m not the only one to experience this. I also realise that today I’ve had a bit of a lazy session and wasted a lot of time. It’s still fun though. There’s nowhere I’d rather be for two hours on a Saturday afternoon, being educated by the Usk.

Mr Notherone

Gone

August Afternoon on the Usk

Small wbt

Chalk Stream…but where are the trout?

I oversleep. Not the start I want and I’m annoyed at falling asleep after the alarm rings. Nothing I can do now, I’ll just have to catch fish an hour later than planned.

The Wiltshire Avon

Despite my tardiness, I make good progress towards the Wiltshire Avon and stop at services to pick up a few things for lunch. Absent any breakfast I’m also hungry now.  The large gentleman in front of me buys the last two ‘pan au raison’ and I’m stuck with an ugly looking plain croissant (the French have a lot to answer for). I wonder if this is a sign for the day ahead.

It’s another hot one, bright sunshine and high twenties by lunchtime. I look for a shady spot to park and chat to the river keeper. He’s been feeding the stockies in an adjacent lake and wishes me well without giving too much away.

It’s a decent walk to the bottom of the beat. My last visit here was in Winter and now in August the vegetation is in full flow, making access difficult and impossible in places. Unlike my regular freestone rivers, the Avon has a good flow – lower than I remember but just as clear. A peer into the water shows just how skittish the fish are.

I’m armed with my 9ft 4wt. I want to use my 8ft 4″ 3wt but I broke the tip section a few days ago and so needs must. Today is a dry fly day. There are a few pools where I’m better off with a nymph or spider, but I’m going to persevere with the dry. I’ve not had enough dry fly action this season.

I start with a small klink and work upstream, hitting the food seams, gravel runs and margins. It’s not long before the first small grayling comes to hand, quickly followed by a few more. Can’t be long now until the first brownie shows up.

The small grayling keep coming. I switch flies a lot in one pool where I see several rising. My reliable f-fly and olive emerger attract no attention at all. The klink and a small elk hair caddis are preferred and catch everything today between them.  I notice a better fish at the head of a pool, rising in a narrow channel between some ranunculus. I lengthen the leader a little and get into position.

This is one of those casts that I should make with ease. Twenty five feet, no wind and no obstructions, but nerves can strike under a hot sun.

I’ve become a strong proponent of the importance of the first cast, particularly in these conditions. I used to rush in for glory whereas now I spend more time watching and planning. A kingfisher takes my attention for a moment as I’m getting ready.

The take is almost instant and I’m into a better fish and certainly a brown trout. Well actually it’s a 12″ rainbow. I’m not sure if he has been stocked here or if he’s an escapee, but either way he’s not the fish I came for.

Time For Lunch

Several From This Pool

I grab some lunch sitting on a small hard bench. I resist the urge to use a comfortable looking chair in a garden on the opposite bank, placed temptingly close to the water.  Being run off someones property will surely spoil my afternoon.

The top half of the beat is a much harder prospect. Access is very difficult and short roll casts need pin point accuracy. A few more small grayling oblige until I spot a trout rising upstream in the margin just out of the main flow. The stream is no more than three meters wide at this point and I need to negotiate a tree and high bank vegetation. 

Perhaps a bow and arrow cast from the bank, but I’m not too good at those.

With an effort Robin Hood would be proud of, the fly lands just up from the last rise and is greedily taken. At last, a lovely little wbt, perhaps 10″ comes to the net. He recovers quickly and bolts for cover.

I manage just one more similar trout from the next pool and although I catch and miss more of the ever present grayling, I see no signs of trout anywhere else.

It’s hard to be disappointed on such a beautiful day with the Avon. My catch is sixteen grayling, two brownies and a wayward rainbow – all on the dry. I don’t fish chalk streams often and I have this notion that they are stuffed with brown trout.

Perhaps I’m unlucky, perhaps it’s the conditions, perhaps I have the wrong tactics. Perhaps the little grayling are simply winning the race for my fly on a mile of prime trout water. Perhaps if I’d had the pan au raison instead of an ugly croissant. Who knows.

It’s a great day in beautiful Wiltshire surroundings, on a special little stream.

Mr Notherone

 

Safely Returned

Gin Clear Water