Chiphall Lake TF Sweepstake

 

 Paul Roberts, who used to own Rovers Tackle in Fareham, ran another Sweepstake competition at Chiphall this year, in a very cold January. Quite what he gets out of it now he’s sold his tackle business is not clear, I expect he does it for purely benevolent reasons, perhaps philanthropy? Whatever the reason this was the first after a two year lay-off due to Covid. £50 for a four fish ticket, including a bacon butty and a hot drink (saving on the norm) plus £5 for the sweepstake. The winner is ’first past the post’ after which he pays out for ‘heaviest bag’ and ‘heaviest fish’, I think there was a fourth place prize too, not sure what, but you can only have one pay-out. The rules are straightforward: draw for starting order heading clockwise from in front of the lodge, one hundred yards apart save for those three permanent pegs, the angler must move upon catching a fish, and the first hour is strictly dry-fly only. Not much hope of catching on a dry in this weather, but it adds interest. Cheating has been known: there’s a temptation to stay put when you catch a trout, but the competitors are supposed to police that; and during my second ever entry I noticed the guy in front of me casting a big dry, then ripping it back sub-surface. Not quite what the rules have in mind.

 A couple of latecomers had to park on the grass as the car park was full. A bell sounded the start, and would ring again after the hour to signal the end of ‘dry only’, and would next ring at noon for the butty break. We were off.

 I headed along the west bank to the top end. My chosen dry was a bushy Half-Hog so I could give it a twitch from time to time. The only naturals about were tiny midges, but there were no risers, just one or two swirls out in the centre. Half an hour gone there was a sub-surface swirl out in front of me, so I covered it, there was a slight disturbance at the fly, not a rise per se, and the fly remained unmolested.

 At the bell I put that rod down, changing to a #5 intermediate set-up, a Biscuit Blob with a pink/purple bead-head knotted on the business end, and second cast had a take. I played the fish carefully, the Rainbow giving a good account of itself, and was soon netted thankfully. Off and running! I moved around the top inlet end, down the eastern bank and onto the island, where I fished from both ends. I had two knocks, just that, nothing I could strike at. After about forty minutes I moved down towards the deep hole, but despite fly changes there was nothing doing there either. In due course I was almost back to where I had started, now fishing a blue-flash black Leech with a green bead-head. Second cast it was walloped and I played my second as carefully as the first. I moved up the bank about a hundred yards, now casting towards the top corner: Thump! My third soon safely in the bag, all around two pounds something. Now midday, so I trudged back to the lodge for refreshment and some craic.

 On my perambulations around the lake I had spotted a pod of fish off the western bank near the tip of the first island, and had even mentioned them to a couple of the competitors in passing, yet I had seen no-one try to reach them. It was very difficult to see any fish due to the low angle of the light, but there is a higher slope on this side and walking along the top gives a better angle to see into the water than standing on the bank itself. After lunch I knew where I wanted to be. For most, the fishing had been hard; one chap had two, unhappily having to return his third, a Brown, per the fishery rules. Three others each had one fish.

 The conversation flitted about like a butterfly: Bo-Jo and politics were lightly touched, Biden, rising electricity costs, inflation, we even managed to get onto robotic guns, secret ops, even the IRA back in the seventies!

 Time for battle to be joined again. Nobody headed for the spot I had in mind, it seemed my luck was holding. Sure enough, I could just about make out some fishy ‘ghosts’ but it soon became apparent the Leech streamer was doing nothing for them. Back to my starting Blob then: one fished followed the first slow retrieve in, three fish the second, and on the third cast I could make out two followers angling towards the fly then turning away again. I stopped the retrieve dead and as the fly started to slowly sink one of the trout nailed it almost under the rod tip. I do enjoy sight fishing!

 My race run, back to the lodge where Georgina confirmed I was the first to finish. After a wee while Paul came by, then paid my winnings, suggesting I might like to join his party at Blagdon, later in the year. It was about one o’clock, the competition would end at 14.30, so I thanked Paul, and Georgina, and headed for home rather than sitting around in the cold.

 Modesty forbids me to say anything else … but what’s that, Modesty? You really don’t mind? … Okay, if you’re really sure, … then I will: Four attempts at this competition,  a second place then three wins in succession! How? If the method, retrieve, or fly are not working CHANGE; if you can’t see any fish or you don’t think there are any in front of you MOVE. Far too many entrants seem to just flog a dead horse.