The Continuing Asventures of the Fluff Club, Episode 10
The names of the
characters and the places are disguised to protect the innocent.
Imagine the four horsemen of the apocalypse thundering down the rural lane along the valley, their red-eyed steeds galloping as though all the foul creatures of hell were snapping at their hooves, the headlong charge stopping suddenly, sinews straining in a whirling vortex of dust and rocks. Not quite how four of the Fluff Boys pitched up at the fishery car park, but at least an entertaining start to this episode.
I had thought our numbers might have been higher but que sera sera, there we were: Jackdaw, the Inspector, the Professor, and Whytee. We weren't that far from home, but whatever.
The fishery has two catch and kill ponds plus two C&R beats below. The prices, inevitably it seems, have gone up since we were last here, but on a spring or summer day that would still be reasonable for the whole day including the C&R facility and the nice lodge, etc., but today's strong winds made the C&R stretch a waste of time being much more exposed and therefore frenziedly whipped by the wind, so we were a little limited in scope. Nevertheless, the price competes favourably with other leisure activities, such as a premiership football or rugby ticket, providing longer leisure time and more entertainment for your bucks.
We were at the end of November, yet there had been only one frost so far. The day forecast to remain cloudy, very windy as I've mentioned, but still around 12 degrees C. The water was very clear. We tackled up at the car park then ambled to the lodge to sign in, then out onto the banks. From the lodge’s deck I had noticed a Golden trout, then walking the bank I saw several fish moving and some more of the golden variety. The rules say Browns and Goldens have to be returned, and the latter being so visible would mean they would have been educated by now, probably having every fly in the book chucked at them, thus becoming very elusive. On the other hand, no fish is actually un-catchable, but I was after a short session, having promised mission control I would get home for a family lunch.
I decided to start down the bank towards the dam end, where the water deepens, planning to fish mainly lures because of the time of year, despite seeing trout near the surface. The evening before I had tied up some 'Crazy-eyed Cats': yes, I had incorporated some pink marabou, and also some other CW colour variants, because winter will eventually close in properly, and the CW's will become bankers. Anyway, I was going to test the new flies. I had been hoping to tie some of Mr C Jardine's recommended 'Biscuit FABs', but he has the ‘Delia’ effect nowadays and the material was out of stock so I'm still awaiting my order. CJ wrote that this particular pattern is the proverbial dog's whatsits, in a recent article and what he says is generally bang on the money. Before this year I had not fished Blobs much at all, received wisdom and personal experience indicated they might work on the big reservoirs but not on the smaller stillwaters. Earlier this year I visited Elinor and got talking to a guy who had 26 fish in a few hours on a small orange Blob just fished on the drift. That got me thinking, which was subsequently reinforced when my good fishing buddy and I had a session of exhilarating sport on a four-plus acre fishery using orange or yellow Blobs. Other trips have shown that a Blob can prove to be a good change pattern that can revive interest from fish you have already covered many times with other flies without much interest. The Biscuit FAB will just have to wait, maybe my next outing?
But I digress. On with the pinky CW variant, a reasonable cast, and the fly was taken on the drop! A feisty Rainbow around the two pounds mark zoomed about before being netted. Some start! A few casts later I counted twenty seconds down and commenced a slow ‘figure of eight’ sort of retrieve to feel the line tightening, a strip strike and this fish was more than double the size of t'other and I played it very carefully indeed until lifting the net onto the grass.
With two in the bass a glance at the watch indicated I ought to arrest my progress somewhat. A few changes of fly is my usual solution and provides a good opportunity to try out some of the variants, maybe deviants, lurking in the box not yet having been picked with any confidence. After several changes had each received a few casts I thought I should move to a different spot, to find new fish to cover, so I moved around to the far side of the dam, where most of the savage gusts should be from behind me. Of course, on arrival the wind direction changed yet again! I tried a CW variant featuring attractive colour shading from burnt orange to ginger, it elicited one follow, then nothing. Another change to a ‘squirmy’ thing and on the hang a trout grabbed the very end, the material stretched like pole elastic until the fish let go of the tip and the fly catapulted back past me while the trout turned hither and thither wondering where its prey had gone, before melting back down into the dark!
The Inspector passed me on his second lap, perambulating the banks looking for a good 'un to target. Over near the middle I could see the Professor busy with a fish, and further back Jackdaw seemed engaged in a real tussle, battling a fish which was taking him back and forth around the small promontory he was fishing from. It had to be better than average because Jackdaw normally prefers the 'dogged tug of war on a short line' approach, rather than the give and take of playing a fish.
I began to wonder if my earlier success was a fluke, doubts often creep in, so I re-tied the pinky CW, and bang, another Rainbow first cast and on the drop, again over four pounds when weighed later.
I took this fish back to where I had left the bag, where I started. Time for a brew, so I walked towards the lodge to take a break, stopping en route to speak to the Professor and Jackdaw, the Inspector was fishing on the opposite side of the pond.
The lodge was absolutely toasty from the wood-burner, so I drank my coffee quickly, not resting long in case Morpheus began to beckon. Back where I had left my gear I thought I would try a new tying of a pattern my fishing buddy and I used to swear by 15 years ago when complete novices, it was essentially a CW but a green fritz body and black marabou tail and wing, gold bead-chain eyes. The new tying used a bright green UV straggle string for the body area. Third cast I had a pluck, two casts later everything locked up, and my fourth trout turned out to be three and a quarter pounds.
Once I had packed up, I tubed and weighed my fish at the lodge, then I decided to bid adieu to the Fluff Boys. I had no sooner got to the Professor when he hit a take on the drop, the trout instantly leaping, his fourth. He remarked that the quality and average size had improved since our last visit, and indeed his bag was heavier than mine, his best one going well over five pounds.
After I left, Jackdaw and the Inspector both completed their braces, so not a bad effort from the Fluff Club, especially considering 90 fish were taken out two days previously on a corporate event, and there had been no stocking since.
At the very next Fluff Club tying night the Professor got us to tie a version of the fly he had taken all four of his fish on, it had a black marabou tail, peacock flash dub beneath a bright yellow wire rib, and a polythene shell back over a metallic copper-dubbed thorax. With deference to the more complaining of our canton we tied it on size 12 hooks, but the Professor told us he had actually fished it as a size 18!
Until the next time ...
Imagine the four horsemen of the apocalypse thundering down the rural lane along the valley, their red-eyed steeds galloping as though all the foul creatures of hell were snapping at their hooves, the headlong charge stopping suddenly, sinews straining in a whirling vortex of dust and rocks. Not quite how four of the Fluff Boys pitched up at the fishery car park, but at least an entertaining start to this episode.
I had thought our numbers might have been higher but que sera sera, there we were: Jackdaw, the Inspector, the Professor, and Whytee. We weren't that far from home, but whatever.
The fishery has two catch and kill ponds plus two C&R beats below. The prices, inevitably it seems, have gone up since we were last here, but on a spring or summer day that would still be reasonable for the whole day including the C&R facility and the nice lodge, etc., but today's strong winds made the C&R stretch a waste of time being much more exposed and therefore frenziedly whipped by the wind, so we were a little limited in scope. Nevertheless, the price competes favourably with other leisure activities, such as a premiership football or rugby ticket, providing longer leisure time and more entertainment for your bucks.
We were at the end of November, yet there had been only one frost so far. The day forecast to remain cloudy, very windy as I've mentioned, but still around 12 degrees C. The water was very clear. We tackled up at the car park then ambled to the lodge to sign in, then out onto the banks. From the lodge’s deck I had noticed a Golden trout, then walking the bank I saw several fish moving and some more of the golden variety. The rules say Browns and Goldens have to be returned, and the latter being so visible would mean they would have been educated by now, probably having every fly in the book chucked at them, thus becoming very elusive. On the other hand, no fish is actually un-catchable, but I was after a short session, having promised mission control I would get home for a family lunch.
I decided to start down the bank towards the dam end, where the water deepens, planning to fish mainly lures because of the time of year, despite seeing trout near the surface. The evening before I had tied up some 'Crazy-eyed Cats': yes, I had incorporated some pink marabou, and also some other CW colour variants, because winter will eventually close in properly, and the CW's will become bankers. Anyway, I was going to test the new flies. I had been hoping to tie some of Mr C Jardine's recommended 'Biscuit FABs', but he has the ‘Delia’ effect nowadays and the material was out of stock so I'm still awaiting my order. CJ wrote that this particular pattern is the proverbial dog's whatsits, in a recent article and what he says is generally bang on the money. Before this year I had not fished Blobs much at all, received wisdom and personal experience indicated they might work on the big reservoirs but not on the smaller stillwaters. Earlier this year I visited Elinor and got talking to a guy who had 26 fish in a few hours on a small orange Blob just fished on the drift. That got me thinking, which was subsequently reinforced when my good fishing buddy and I had a session of exhilarating sport on a four-plus acre fishery using orange or yellow Blobs. Other trips have shown that a Blob can prove to be a good change pattern that can revive interest from fish you have already covered many times with other flies without much interest. The Biscuit FAB will just have to wait, maybe my next outing?
But I digress. On with the pinky CW variant, a reasonable cast, and the fly was taken on the drop! A feisty Rainbow around the two pounds mark zoomed about before being netted. Some start! A few casts later I counted twenty seconds down and commenced a slow ‘figure of eight’ sort of retrieve to feel the line tightening, a strip strike and this fish was more than double the size of t'other and I played it very carefully indeed until lifting the net onto the grass.
With two in the bass a glance at the watch indicated I ought to arrest my progress somewhat. A few changes of fly is my usual solution and provides a good opportunity to try out some of the variants, maybe deviants, lurking in the box not yet having been picked with any confidence. After several changes had each received a few casts I thought I should move to a different spot, to find new fish to cover, so I moved around to the far side of the dam, where most of the savage gusts should be from behind me. Of course, on arrival the wind direction changed yet again! I tried a CW variant featuring attractive colour shading from burnt orange to ginger, it elicited one follow, then nothing. Another change to a ‘squirmy’ thing and on the hang a trout grabbed the very end, the material stretched like pole elastic until the fish let go of the tip and the fly catapulted back past me while the trout turned hither and thither wondering where its prey had gone, before melting back down into the dark!
The Inspector passed me on his second lap, perambulating the banks looking for a good 'un to target. Over near the middle I could see the Professor busy with a fish, and further back Jackdaw seemed engaged in a real tussle, battling a fish which was taking him back and forth around the small promontory he was fishing from. It had to be better than average because Jackdaw normally prefers the 'dogged tug of war on a short line' approach, rather than the give and take of playing a fish.
I began to wonder if my earlier success was a fluke, doubts often creep in, so I re-tied the pinky CW, and bang, another Rainbow first cast and on the drop, again over four pounds when weighed later.
I took this fish back to where I had left the bag, where I started. Time for a brew, so I walked towards the lodge to take a break, stopping en route to speak to the Professor and Jackdaw, the Inspector was fishing on the opposite side of the pond.
The lodge was absolutely toasty from the wood-burner, so I drank my coffee quickly, not resting long in case Morpheus began to beckon. Back where I had left my gear I thought I would try a new tying of a pattern my fishing buddy and I used to swear by 15 years ago when complete novices, it was essentially a CW but a green fritz body and black marabou tail and wing, gold bead-chain eyes. The new tying used a bright green UV straggle string for the body area. Third cast I had a pluck, two casts later everything locked up, and my fourth trout turned out to be three and a quarter pounds.
Once I had packed up, I tubed and weighed my fish at the lodge, then I decided to bid adieu to the Fluff Boys. I had no sooner got to the Professor when he hit a take on the drop, the trout instantly leaping, his fourth. He remarked that the quality and average size had improved since our last visit, and indeed his bag was heavier than mine, his best one going well over five pounds.
After I left, Jackdaw and the Inspector both completed their braces, so not a bad effort from the Fluff Club, especially considering 90 fish were taken out two days previously on a corporate event, and there had been no stocking since.
At the very next Fluff Club tying night the Professor got us to tie a version of the fly he had taken all four of his fish on, it had a black marabou tail, peacock flash dub beneath a bright yellow wire rib, and a polythene shell back over a metallic copper-dubbed thorax. With deference to the more complaining of our canton we tied it on size 12 hooks, but the Professor told us he had actually fished it as a size 18!
Until the next time ...
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