Damerham again.

 

B hadn’t been to Damerham (the home of the Blue Trout) before, so when we were discussing venue choice for our latest session he favoured giving it a punt. The preceding Saturday and Sunday had been frigid, Monday slightly less, but the appointed Tuesday was forecast to be balmy by comparison, some warmer air passing through. Indeed it was, a little drizzle twice, but otherwise grey skies. I kept my fingers crossed that the water would warm past the critical five degrees centigrade, and it must have, as the astonishingly clear waters revealed lots of trout ‘on the fin’.

 Jeremy told us we were the only two booked in, so we would have the fishery as well as the coffee pot to ourselves. He added that there was a pod of fish constantly circling in that little bay towards the end of Hollyhead where the track runs close, turning towards the stew ponds. There certainly was: Blues, and some Sandies, with darker Rainbows, all going anti-clockwise. I’ve seen trout shoaled up and circling before: at Lechlade and John O’Gaunt they sometimes do ring-a-roses around small islands; at Moorhen they often form into two large pods, circling in separate halves of the fishery! Some say they shoal up and circle in fear of Otter attacks, or other predators, others that it’s a habit from circling around aerators in the stews, But Damerham’s, like Lechlade’s, stews are long and narrow, not permitting a mass circling action! Jeremy said they hadn’t been troubled by Otters for years, and he doubted that circling would deter Cormorants. Another mystery in the great pageant that is life.

Anyroadup, we stopped at this pod on our way down to Mayfly, and B had first chuck. The water clarity let us see fish turning to inspect his offering, even following for a foot or so, before re-joining the orbit. The last time I fished Damerham I caught using small, naturalistic nymph patterns, so I knotted one on my tippet, awaiting my turn to have a pop. I should add now that all day the fish were spooky and line-shy, and these were edging further out at each cast. B put up his rod, signalling my turn, and on the third cast the fly was taken ‘on the drop’ by a strong, thick fish which fought hard and took time to subdue. It was the best trout of our day, at five pounds four ounces. After that commotion we moved onto Mayfly, the other side of the fish farm.

 One of my ‘ties to try’ was a size 14 thing, a sort of CW mini-lure, dressed very slim and without the wing/cloak. A couple of Blues showed some interest before it was hit by a Rainbow, there followed a heavy, splashy jump … and it was gone. I couldn’t even buy a follow after that, so I tried a picric Muskins further along the bank where quite a few fish were loosely gathered. Some long casting,( for me), brought my second, the smallest of the day at 2-8. B and I moved across to the opposite bank because our repeated casts had moved the fish further across. I headed for the end, where the trees overhang before the grill that separates Mayfly from Horseshoe, where a few fish were patrolling, although very skittish. Bri moved further along, just past the island, about halfway. Happily, there he caught one on a black Muskins, then missed another take, but he was up and running now.

 I caught my third on a size 16 all-synthetic PTN shaped pattern, tied to represent a Baetis nymph, casting sideways to my left under the overhanging boughs. When hooked, the fish made a savage slap on the surface with its tail, frightening away a much, much bigger trout that had been lurking unseen by me beneath a raft of bankside leaves. Sadly, I didn’t see that big ‘un again. I rested my stuff against a tree and walked over to discuss timing for our lunch break, we agreed on 12.45, before taking an exploratory stroll around  Horseshoe, where we didn’t see much before B said he didn’t fancy it and headed back.

I supposed Horseshoe to be the least visited of the three ponds, judging by the evidence of Badgers digging in the turf and two heaps of ex-fowl feathers. A family of Swans were doing their thing, other than that I didn’t see any activity, but almost back at that grill there was a small posse of Blues and ‘bows. I crept close, using two tree trunks for cover, and a three-pound-plus Rainbow hit the diminutive fly hard as it sank, then fighting on one side of the tree with me reaching around from the other with the rod! Unhappily, it slipped the hook as I was reaching for it with the landing net. No matter, time for the snap. I found B with his second, which had taken that CW mini thingy. We left most of our gear on the bank, just taking B’s rod with a badly tangled leader, heading back to the sumptuous lodge.

 After lunch, B decided to have another go at the circling pod, now they had been well rested. I picked out a Biscuit Blob with a pink @rse for him to try, but despite several swirls and even bow-wave follows, he didn’t get a proper take until he let it sink from sight. The tippet still on the surface twitched, and he was playing his third fish, soon netting it to even our scores. Back on Mayfly we returned to the same spots we’d vacated. Off to my right, the Blob was first to work it’s magic, a Blue hitting the fly almost as soon as it touched down, and while B was netting that, the Baetis mimic did its stuff too. The sky brightened as if to highlight our successful conclusions, but it would soon be dark and we packed up and completed our catch returns at the lodge. Jeremy came along, and seemed a little surprised that we had both taken our four fish limit; we settled up, and with the contents of the coffee pot long-gone there was nothing left but to head off, into the gathering gloom, another excellent  session of sight fishing to be logged.