The Continuing Adventures of the Fluff Club, Episode 2

The names and places are changed to protect the innocent.

The December trip for our fly tying group found a motley bunch of post-Christmas-suffering Fluff Boys eventually assembled at the fishery lodge on a bright, crisp morning with a white frost on the ground. Temperature last night went below freezing and my car told me it was still only 1 degree C on arrival at 8.30am. Still, coffee and a bacon butty by the wood-burner did a lot in the way of revivification.
There had been 16 fishing a competition here the day before and apparently nearly all caught well, so I expected the worst; the fishery is less than three acres so most of that acreage would have seen all sorts of flies and with the water temperature being low I elected for just a two-fish ticket. I set up to fish lures and headed for the eastern end. The manager had told us earliest arrivals that the "duffers' corner" held a shoal of stockies (as it often does hence the name) so my decision was to head for the completely opposite end so as to avoid the 'spearing fish in a barrel' syndrome.

I tied on a "Squirmy Wormy" whereas the Inspector, the Admiral, and Lumberjack had stuck by their agreement to first fish their 'Xmas special' flies made up at our last Fluff Club tying evening, basically creations with a diverse bunch of festive colours and tinsels nicked from the gaudy Xmas decorations, to no particular pattern or recipe, thus lots of reds, greens, silvers and gold twinkling merrily (more psychedelic than seasonal). I didn't even bring mine, as frankly I had absolutely no faith in them whatsoever, so they were now consigned to that fly box which will never leave the house!
After a while and a couple of moves I noticed some swirls off to one side, cast to the vicinity, a couple of pulls and the line tightened so I strip-struck and lifted the rod into the fish. The Rainbow put up an exciting scrap, causing me to forget the cold, and eventually slid over the rim of my net. A quick visit by the priest, then I cut off the SW and tied on a "Squirminator" which is a new pattern I got from the interweb. It's tied on a #14 jig hook, using the SW material, with a 3mm tungsten bead on the hook eye crank so that the fly fishes hook-point uppermost to avoid snagging the bottom. Diagonally opposite me, at the other end, I saw Jackdaw's rod bent into a trout. Another punter had caught earlier so it seemed the pond was going to fish reasonably well despite the circumstances.
There was another swirl in the same area as before so I covered it, straightened everything out, and Bang! ... In again!
This was a better fish which fought strongly, when I glimpsed it I worried about my hook-hold as I could see most of the lure outside the fish's mouth and it was a barbless hook. I played it carefully, taking my time, and soon netted the beautiful Rainbow. With two fish in the bass bag I headed for the lodge for a warm-up, coffee and a second bacon sandwich. My brace went 3lb 3oz and 3lb 7oz. I was pleased, but left in a quandary: time on my hands but should I spend £11 to buy another 1-fish ticket or £11 worth of fly tying stuff or bits and pieces of tackle ?
Fighting back this angst I thought I had better have a wander to chat to the other Fluff Boys before coming to any decision. The Sailor hadn't had a touch, nor had the Professor. I told the Sailor that back in the summer when the sun is at a higher angle and allows you to see into the water much better, there appeared to be fewer fish along this bank, probably the shallowest bit, so he moved closer to "duffers corner". Meanwhile Lumberjack moved closer to where I caught, but two other anglers had already jumped into the actual spot when they saw me heading to the lodge.
The Inspector now caught his second on his Xmas special, having also missed four takes on it! This left him with the same vexation: to buy fish or some kit ?
The Admiral had landed a fish in addition to performing his speciality, the long distance catch and release. Lumberjack took a good fish from the area the swirls had been and Jackdaw, fishing along in front of the treed end, bagged his second using something blingy in red and white, so he too headed for a warm-up.
Having made the rounds I couldn't stall any longer and decided to pay for another fish. A bit later the Inspector came to the same decision but said he had probably jinxed himself. It was still bitterly cold with a strengthening northern wind, and the frost still held sway wherever there had been shade from the weak early morning sunlight.
I crossed the bridge to the island and out onto the narrow point, but the Squirminator wasn't doing the business now. The Professor, on the lodge bank, dropped two fish in quick succession before going on to take four in less than an hour, all caught deep and very slow. Lumberjack had caught his second and took it to be weighed : with one close to 4lb and the other 4lb 12oz it was clear he had won both 'Best Fish' and 'Best Brace' trophies to hold for the coming month,
"First time I've ever won anything" he said.
On the point I switched flies until second cast with my Cats Whisker variant I had a take which turned out to be my best of the day, pulling the scales down to 3lb 13ozs. I packed up and went into the lodge for a final cuppa and some warmth, but also succumbed to purchasing a couple of packs of 3mm Camo tungsten beads. Jackdaw had already left, before noon, as his wife was going shopping and he wanted to be part of her 'Stores Experience' (or was he worried about the budget?). Lumberjack had gone too. The Sailor moved to the point I had vacated and the Admiral moved to where the Professor had bagged-up. From the warm lodge we watched the Admiral execute his speciality again, this time it only took about 90 seconds between striking and the long distance release.
The Inspector seemed to be struggling grimly for his extra fish, visibly shivering and beginning to turn slightly blue. His retrieve patterns were suffering as he kept stopping to blow warmth onto his numb fingers. One of the fishery's regulars spotted his predicament and lent him a spare pair of gloves ; a true "brother of the angle".
I decided it was time to head off to buy some fire logs and deliver my three trout on my way home, leaving the Admiral heading into the lodge to have lunch with the Professor, whilst the Sailor and the Inspector fished determidly on. It was only 1.00pm but a gritting lorry passed as I waited to pull onto the road. In my head I summarised the session as 'Brrrrh ! ... but a happy start for the new year ahead'.