The Continuing Adventures of the Fluff Club, Episode 50

(… in which the names of the participants are pseudonyms, in an effort to be as inclusive to others as possible, attempting to attain the widest readership. Everything else is factual.)


Fifty! The half-century … who would have thought that?!


“Everyone should believe in something. I believe I’ll go fishing”. – Henry D. Thoreau.

It’s that time of year again: Wessex FDG’s annual John Hardeley Memorial, held at Woodington Trout Fishery. When Whytee drove into the car park there were six inches of the River Blackwater flowing through it, into the field beyond. We’ve had a lot of rain recently, exacerbated by the rainstorm last night. Still, there’s no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes. Like a good boy scout: I was prepared. The day actually turned out much better than the weather forecast, the showers went elsewhere and the temperature climbed into double digits for a change, just. Our hosts, Jim and Sian, were waiting for the Fluff Boys and Fluff Girl to appear, sadly our number of attendees has fallen again, the blame lies in dementia, twisted knee, a stroke, plus work commitments and the like. We sorely need new members! We tackled and kitted up, wafts of frying bacon coming from the hut, Sian handing out tea or coffee. The rules have changed again, this year a strict limit of just four flies, lose all of them to the pesky trees and you would have to stop! On my fly patch there were two ‘Wossnames’ (my winning pattern from JHM3) and a couple of ‘Blobs’ (Biscuit, and Orange). We bantered whilst getting outside of the bacon rolls, with the start time looming ever closer. The Headmistress and her ‘ghillie’ (hubby) were first out of the starting blocks, headed straight over to ‘Kingfisher’ (aka Kings), into the corner where she has caught before, when winning JHM1 and making runner-up in JHM3. The filly has form.

The rest of us sauntered over to get ready for the off. A klaxon would have been cool, but we settled for a yell from the Professor, and got to it. With the half hour looming, guess who was first to catch? Yes, it was the Headmistress, showing no signs of being out of practice. The competitors redoubled their efforts, seeing Rodney next into a fish that came to a “black fing, wiv legs and a split shot head”. Counting down the descent of my fly, watching the fast glass sinking, I spotted that bit of line hanging beneath my rod tip begin to lift, struck, and now it was my turn! I played the fish carefully to the net, pleased and relieved to be in the hunt, the ‘best brace’ being the deciding factor for this competition. The Admiral had tried a couple moves, as had Rodney, although still on ‘Spring’. The Professor decided to go down to try the far end of ‘The Leat’ and then to fish back up.

With the first hour nearly over, I gave a longish cast towards the small island plenty of time to get down, then about halfway through the retrieve the fly was absolutely whacked! I tightened into it, becoming immediately aware this was a much better stamp than the first. Once I caught a glimpse of the Rainbow, I took even more care as my fly was in plain sight in the trout’s top lip. After a tense fight I was relieved to net it. The down side was that it meant my race was run, now all I could do was wait, in hope.

I walked down to the Professor on the ‘Leat’ with Jim. Il Professore told us he’d actually caught one, before taking out his ‘phone to show us: it was a small Perch, lying next to the successful fly, an olive WB about a third of its own size. Now that’s aggressive! I headed off looking for ‘photo opportunities’, and climbing the low bank up to ‘Kingfisher’ there were a couple of surface swirls in the corner which overlooks the ‘Leat’. Seeing the Headmistress moving her stuff along the banks to try somewhere new I yelled across “There are some fish this side”. She headed towards me, as predictably did Rodney and the Admiral, both in earshot. The Headmistress soon grassed her second, using a Damsel lure with a gold tinsel rib, and I just had to go over for a look-see, relieved that neither of her brace could match my biggest.

That meant the two of us finished and waiting, a repeat of the events twelve months previously. We watched the others for a while. The Admiral, using an elegant steeple cast to avoid the lurking trees behind (although not always successfully) caught a trout next, a decent looking fish seemingly getting towards three pounds. Rodney, meanwhile, had been getting seriously agitated and aggrieved at his rod, line, or possibly something else entirely, flailing the rod about so hard I thought the top section would fly into the pond and even throwing the rod down onto the bank a couple of times while mumbling some Anglo-Saxon incantations he’s fond of, before moving from ‘Kingfisher’ back onto ‘Spring’ somehow restored a little calm. Not long thereafter he landed his second, a Blue Trout (which took a green lure with a copper rib), just before the shout for lunchtime. That made three of the Fluff Club past the post.

Having received strict instructions from Dearly Beloved to be home to assist with a family lunch, I stowed my stuff, Jim having witnessed the weigh-in. My brace went two six and three fourteen, making a total of six four; the Headmistress’ made five eight, whilst Rodney’s made four something. Whytee drove away, leaving the trophy in the Professor’s custody, and will have to wait until the next tying evening to find out if either of the still-to-finish Professor and Admiral were victorious after the post-lunch second session! (A delicious lunch, apparently, cheesy garlic bread and a steaming pasta dish).

Post scriptum: No, they weren’t; neither managed to catch another fish, despite Rodney coaching the Professor and offering him flies! There was also an incident where the Professor’s hat blew into the water, upon casting and hooking it there ensued a grim struggle, the hat even taking him into some reed-mace, requiring Rodney’s assistance with a landing net. Perhaps the Fluff Club should add another Trophy to compete for on its future outings: Hat Catcher? We know who the Tree Trophy will be going to again: the Professor, who has now won it so many times maybe he should retain it!