The Continuing Adventures of the Fluff Club, Episode 23
(In which the names
are disguised and the place un-named, to protect the innocent).
"Maybe your stature as a fly fisherman isn't determined by how big a trout you can catch, but by how small a trout you can catch without being disappointed" - John Gierach
The Fluff Club last visited this fishery in episode 20. A lovely fresh morning greeted us, forecast to be cloudy in the main, a cooler day now air temperatures had fallen away from their heat-wave levels, but the water would still feel a little on the warm side because it cools down much slower than air. The Admiral, the Sailor, Dell-boy, Rodney and Whytee were pleased to see Foggy drive into the fishery car park. He hasn't attended for either tying or fishing for two years, battling life threatening blood disease followed by a brain tumour. At one point he had lost 50% of his body weight but appears to have caught that up again. Parked next to me he tackled up as quick as a ferret down a bunny hole then headed off looking for a vacant spot on the main lake. I can't say I blamed him, I would be as keen to get going if I had to endure a two-year forced lay-off.
The two lakes never seem to have much in the way of water fowl in evidence save for the odd Mallard, Swan, or Dabchick, but the two deer seats around the grounds suggest a possible explanation for that. You do, however, hear Cuckoos in the spring, and often sight birds of prey overhead, along with the odd Apache. Does any other flying thing look quite so sinister?
There were quite a few other anglers already fishing, as usual concentrated around the larger 'lake' in front of the cars. Once I had paid and rigged up I headed for the smaller pond, always crystal clear because of the abundant springs; I walked with the Sailor, Dell-boy and Rodney just ahead of us, and the Admiral following. I headed for the far bank, where there are two points that jut out a little way, allowing the fisher to cover a lot of water without needing to move. Clockwise, that second point has springs in front and to the left and right, and that was my goal.
I recently bought a Greys #5 9' rod to supplement my armoury and I hoped to give it a baptism of fire today. It took a few attempts before I began to get the 'feel' of it and put out an adequate cast, fishing a Ditch Damsel on a fast glass line. Scanning around whilst retrieving I noticed that there were fish moving hard round to my right, virtually behind me, where there was a line of three springs parallel to the bank, partly hidden by a line of scum, leaves and floating blanketweed blown in by the intermittent breeze ... these fish had cover and cool water. A short cast into this corner, a retrieve parallel to the bank and Bang! I was in. The fish fought hard but at under 3lb was soon netted. The Sailor called across asking what fly I had used, but he soon hooked up on a Rainbow using a black wire Copper John. Before he landed that I had a second take and bagged my second trout. I had fly-fished a river all day only two days prior to this outing and was therefore hoping to get my fish quickly, in order to get home to earn much needed and very valuable brownie points from mission control, but thought I still ought to change the fly, so I chose a #14 black Cormorant with orange biot cheeks. Further around the pond I noticed the Admiral landing a trout.
A couple of casts both elicited chasing fish which took and spat the fly in lightning speed, the next cast resulted in a fish which zoomed up out of one of the springs to engulf the fly. This was smaller than the others, at 1lb 10ozs, probably my smallest Rainbow from this venue; when I filleted it the flesh was very pale, suggesting some time had passed since it had been in the trout farm stews. I had been fishing for just half an hour at this point, and the next cast resulted in another take but this fish managed to throw the hook after a short scrap. My progress had not gone un-noticed by Dell-boy and Rodney, both fishing nearby; you can imagine the comments, including "nads d'or" (the politer version), "lucky bustard" (good name for a fly), and such like. The Sailor joined the banter too, calling across the water accusing me of "showing off".
Foggy was still out of sight somewhere along the far side of the bigger 'lake'. Next, I considered tying on a pale Cruncher or a Corixa pattern which had really done the business here once before in similar conditions to today's. I happened to spot a #14 biscuit Blob on my fly patch so I settled on that, despite it not being particularly imitative. The Admiral came by to see what fly was producing all this sport, and whilst chatting witnessed several consecutive casts where chasing fish took the Blob but spat it out instantly. He thought the chatting was affecting my timing, but it wasn't. He had only just moved off to try a dry (a detached body daddy tied at the last Fluff Club evening) to complete his brace, when I had another take and this time my strike made the desired contact. Fish number four, again under 3lbs, completed my ticket; I checked my watch and saw I had not been fishing for forty-five minutes yet. Rodney spotted I was packing up and gave Dell-boy the nudge, the latter came over and I pointed out where the fish were.
Foggy managed his brace from the main lake and was happy to be back in the saddle after all that time out, despite his aching back and legs. As I headed for the car I noticed the number of anglers who had vacated the larger water were heading to spots on the clear one, indicating [a] it had been tough going on the former and [b] the action on the latter must have been spotted from afar. Apparently, it became a bit crowded, with some not observing the "keep a decent distance apart" nicety at all.
Dell-boy caught a fish on a small CW variant, then Rodney tried the swim using a Blob I gave to him back in episode 19. He later related that he had at least six visible takes using it but all of them spitting out the fly before he could hit them. At the following tying evening the Admiral told me he tied on an orange/biscuit Blob I gave him some time ago, he had no interest to a couple of roly-poly retrieves, so next tried the static approach, letting it sink from sight; about a minute later he had a smash-take which pulled the rod-tip right round, but alas, his leader snapped!
That was that as far as the fishing goes, this fishery can be notoriously tough in the afternoons. I had sorted out and put my catch into the freezer AND taken mission control out for Sunday lunch before the Fluff Boys drew stumps.
Tan y tro nesaf.
"Maybe your stature as a fly fisherman isn't determined by how big a trout you can catch, but by how small a trout you can catch without being disappointed" - John Gierach
The Fluff Club last visited this fishery in episode 20. A lovely fresh morning greeted us, forecast to be cloudy in the main, a cooler day now air temperatures had fallen away from their heat-wave levels, but the water would still feel a little on the warm side because it cools down much slower than air. The Admiral, the Sailor, Dell-boy, Rodney and Whytee were pleased to see Foggy drive into the fishery car park. He hasn't attended for either tying or fishing for two years, battling life threatening blood disease followed by a brain tumour. At one point he had lost 50% of his body weight but appears to have caught that up again. Parked next to me he tackled up as quick as a ferret down a bunny hole then headed off looking for a vacant spot on the main lake. I can't say I blamed him, I would be as keen to get going if I had to endure a two-year forced lay-off.
The two lakes never seem to have much in the way of water fowl in evidence save for the odd Mallard, Swan, or Dabchick, but the two deer seats around the grounds suggest a possible explanation for that. You do, however, hear Cuckoos in the spring, and often sight birds of prey overhead, along with the odd Apache. Does any other flying thing look quite so sinister?
There were quite a few other anglers already fishing, as usual concentrated around the larger 'lake' in front of the cars. Once I had paid and rigged up I headed for the smaller pond, always crystal clear because of the abundant springs; I walked with the Sailor, Dell-boy and Rodney just ahead of us, and the Admiral following. I headed for the far bank, where there are two points that jut out a little way, allowing the fisher to cover a lot of water without needing to move. Clockwise, that second point has springs in front and to the left and right, and that was my goal.
I recently bought a Greys #5 9' rod to supplement my armoury and I hoped to give it a baptism of fire today. It took a few attempts before I began to get the 'feel' of it and put out an adequate cast, fishing a Ditch Damsel on a fast glass line. Scanning around whilst retrieving I noticed that there were fish moving hard round to my right, virtually behind me, where there was a line of three springs parallel to the bank, partly hidden by a line of scum, leaves and floating blanketweed blown in by the intermittent breeze ... these fish had cover and cool water. A short cast into this corner, a retrieve parallel to the bank and Bang! I was in. The fish fought hard but at under 3lb was soon netted. The Sailor called across asking what fly I had used, but he soon hooked up on a Rainbow using a black wire Copper John. Before he landed that I had a second take and bagged my second trout. I had fly-fished a river all day only two days prior to this outing and was therefore hoping to get my fish quickly, in order to get home to earn much needed and very valuable brownie points from mission control, but thought I still ought to change the fly, so I chose a #14 black Cormorant with orange biot cheeks. Further around the pond I noticed the Admiral landing a trout.
A couple of casts both elicited chasing fish which took and spat the fly in lightning speed, the next cast resulted in a fish which zoomed up out of one of the springs to engulf the fly. This was smaller than the others, at 1lb 10ozs, probably my smallest Rainbow from this venue; when I filleted it the flesh was very pale, suggesting some time had passed since it had been in the trout farm stews. I had been fishing for just half an hour at this point, and the next cast resulted in another take but this fish managed to throw the hook after a short scrap. My progress had not gone un-noticed by Dell-boy and Rodney, both fishing nearby; you can imagine the comments, including "nads d'or" (the politer version), "lucky bustard" (good name for a fly), and such like. The Sailor joined the banter too, calling across the water accusing me of "showing off".
Foggy was still out of sight somewhere along the far side of the bigger 'lake'. Next, I considered tying on a pale Cruncher or a Corixa pattern which had really done the business here once before in similar conditions to today's. I happened to spot a #14 biscuit Blob on my fly patch so I settled on that, despite it not being particularly imitative. The Admiral came by to see what fly was producing all this sport, and whilst chatting witnessed several consecutive casts where chasing fish took the Blob but spat it out instantly. He thought the chatting was affecting my timing, but it wasn't. He had only just moved off to try a dry (a detached body daddy tied at the last Fluff Club evening) to complete his brace, when I had another take and this time my strike made the desired contact. Fish number four, again under 3lbs, completed my ticket; I checked my watch and saw I had not been fishing for forty-five minutes yet. Rodney spotted I was packing up and gave Dell-boy the nudge, the latter came over and I pointed out where the fish were.
Foggy managed his brace from the main lake and was happy to be back in the saddle after all that time out, despite his aching back and legs. As I headed for the car I noticed the number of anglers who had vacated the larger water were heading to spots on the clear one, indicating [a] it had been tough going on the former and [b] the action on the latter must have been spotted from afar. Apparently, it became a bit crowded, with some not observing the "keep a decent distance apart" nicety at all.
Dell-boy caught a fish on a small CW variant, then Rodney tried the swim using a Blob I gave to him back in episode 19. He later related that he had at least six visible takes using it but all of them spitting out the fly before he could hit them. At the following tying evening the Admiral told me he tied on an orange/biscuit Blob I gave him some time ago, he had no interest to a couple of roly-poly retrieves, so next tried the static approach, letting it sink from sight; about a minute later he had a smash-take which pulled the rod-tip right round, but alas, his leader snapped!
That was that as far as the fishing goes, this fishery can be notoriously tough in the afternoons. I had sorted out and put my catch into the freezer AND taken mission control out for Sunday lunch before the Fluff Boys drew stumps.
Tan y tro nesaf.
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