RH Fly Fishing

  Over a year ago, in Ed 5, I mentioned ‘river monitoring’ but have only just realised, mea culpa, that I haven’t explained what that’s about. I worked in the construction industry most of my career, and way back when, learning the ropes on site, the foreman said “Never ASSUME, because if you do you might make an ASS out of U and ME”. So, apologies, here comes a bit of rectification:   In the UK the ‘River Monitoring Initiative’ essentially exists to monitor the health of our precious rivers and provide early warning when things seem to be going awry. How this works is that volunteers sample specific sites on key rivers for eight particular types of invertebrate life, using a controlled approach. Each site has a ‘trigger score’ set, and if the monthly monitoring produces a score below this level, then the alarm bells are sounded. My fishing buddy and I monitor two separate sites on a Hampshire chalkstream much less well-known than its cousins, the Rivers Itchen and Test. Our results

  “Some fish are worth more points than others” … “no two fish are equal ” [anon.]   One hundred and forty-something miles to go, so warp drive was engaged, hurtling northwards to Elinor Trout Fishery at sunrise. When I loaded the car in the dark I had mused about how much tackle I take with me; when I started fly fishing one of the reasons that appealed was how little I needed compared to the paraphernalia I used to lug when coarse fishing!   The last time the Fluff Boys (under their FDG branch name) went to this fishery was reported in episode 60, hodie ut obliviscator in my case [a day to forget]. Surely there was no way that today could be any worse? Unless, perhaps, if I drowned, or was trampled to death by a gang of crazed sheep. Buoyed by that thought I rolled into the car park, where the Inspector was already setting up, we were soon joined by the Professor, thus making our team of three. The Admiral was not able to make this one. We readied for the fray with sixteen other F

    Captain’s log : star date April 9 th , 2021, the Milky Way. The wait is finally over! This is a contemporaneous account, not one from the past. No first-light rush, instead a leisurely breakfast with she who must be obeyed, while the air began to warm from last night’s chill. I had some new things to try out: First, a waist pack bought cheap over twenty years ago, barely used, being trialled as an alternative to wearing the fishing vest. Next, an indicator rig, instantly depth adjustable, which I first saw in an Andy Buckley video. Then, an 8’ 6” #4 weight rod coupled with a Sunray International #4 Nymph line, both a few years old but never paired as an ‘outfit’ hitherto. My 10’ #4 would probably deal much better with an indicator rig, but I felt it would prove too long for the beat’s overgrowth etc. - well, in my hands, that is.   The Association’s rivers opened on the 5 th , I headed for my favourite (to date) beat, the pervading thought that family matters and lockdowns meant