Segars Carrier 26/07

 

 Segars Carrier, part of the River Itchen system, ran as clear as triple distilled spirit. Heavily weeded in places but offering plenty of clear channels, holes and glides. I often struggle with malevolent trees and shrubs lurking just out of my peripheral vision, waiting for a chance to pounce on line, cast or tippet; today thistles, nettles, brambles, sedge, et al, joined ranks. High levels of vexation were soon reached, but the sun and 25C heat rapidly burned off the blue air.

 I had rigged two outfits, one for dries and the other for nymphing, both with 3lb. b.s. tippet due to the lush growth in the stream and along the banks. The plan was to take time, stalking slowly upstream, fishing late afternoon and early evening. I spotted about three dozen spotties in all, three of which were probably stockers, the remainder smaller, wild Brown Trout. Two Chub passed, heading downstream, but as far as I could tell there were no Grayling. There were some fry in places, too small for me to identify without getting up close and personal.

 Thunder overhead at just before six meant I stowed the rods and landing net straight away. While the rumblings prevailed I wandered up the remaining half of the beat, having a look-see. With hindsight, that was a dumb idea because I’d already learned just how spooky the fish were; walking upstream then coming back again was just not going to help. The thunder lasted about an hour, but there was no rain.

 There was no hatch, nothing rising anywhere. Nymphing with size eighteen Perdigons, Thread Frenchies, or Caddis pupa brought only complete disdain from the fish. Same-sized Elk-hair Caddis and F-fly dries generated mere flickers of interest. On one drift three little WBT came up in turn to inspect then reject the fly before drifting down back to their lies. I thoroughly enjoy sight fishing, but today it brought just frustration. I stalked twelve fish, made twelve presentations, and all just spooked the fish which simply vanished. In the five or so hours fished, I had four or five rises, but these were juveniles, still learning their trade, hitting the fly but not taking.

 A tough session, but it is a very good thing that fly fishing, happily, has so much more to offer than just catching a fish. As Ernie said “I’ll be back.”