RH Fly Fishing

 Back in 'Rother, no Bother' I mentioned I had to use stock photos. This was as a result of wading a step too far, forgetting my field camera was in a jacket pocket, only noticing when I pulled the camera out of my pocket, pressed the power button, then began to wonder why the camera was dripping. Distracted by the view , or what?  This was the Sony's second waterboarding, and despite doing all I could with umpteen little packets of silica gel, airing cupboard, et cetera, it had become an ex-camera. Imagine the surprise when I found that the memory card had actually survived the incident, albeit only three pics had been snapped before I went over-depth! Here they are, the first two show some of the mini-canyon's walls (rock faces actually), while the last was taken mid-stream, wading towards the little bend where the mishap took place! Enjoy.

    When setting out on a journey to visit and fish a new place for the very first time it feels wonderful, excitement builds with the fresh sights around every turn. Of course, it would be easier fishing a regular haunt where you might know what’s what, but the prospect of unlocking even a little bit of the secrets of somewhere new adds to the challenge, and to the frisson when you do catch! If fishing was not challenging I doubt it would have so many ardent followers. That’s why I exhort you to bid in the next Wild Trout Trust on-line auction. They need the funds it raises to continue their good works in matters of water and fish welfare, and if successful, you get a magical fishing opportunity in return. What’s not to like?   This time it was Harting Pond(s). I won’t go into the vagaries of sat-nav and post codes, suffice it to say the two ‘rods’ eventually rendezvoused with the waiting host from opposite ends of the country lane, the gate was unlocked, cars parked, ...

  “Skill in fishing is a nebulous thing based largely on seasoned intuition, perhaps informed by a little knowledge, but catching a few fish now and then doesn’t mean you have it”. – John Gierach, from ‘Even Brook Trout get the Blues’.   Not a cloud in the sky when I hit the motorway, an absolutely stunning day, bright sunshine illuminating every shade of green in the land. Being alive and surrounded by nature’s beauty is wonderful but it’s even better when you are going fishing! The temperature inexorably climbed towards twenty, by mid-afternoon we were forecast for twenty-six. One of those days you really ought to just fish very early or very late. The Admiral was engaged elsewhere, carrying out orders from On High, but six Fluff Boys mustered, keen for the off. The Professor’s ‘phone had an evil gremlin, and took him an obscure route which included most of Wiltshire before he arrived at the fishery. The Inspector was a no-show although expected; turns out the broken ank...