RH Fly Fishing

    …”a trout is a moment of beauty known only to those who seek it,” – Arnold Gingrich   Communication breakdown: Whytee pulled into the car park, Dodgy Phil close behind, to see Lumberjack and the Fishery Manager by their vehicles. “Did you get the email? I didn’t”, asked Lumberjack, “What email?”. The FM said “Your chairman cancelled because of the weather forecast”. Whytee replied “Damned if I did. Who looks at emails first thing in the morning before going fishing?”, then a little anxiously “Does this mean you’re closed?” whereupon FM (whose name might be Leslie) responded in the negative, cheering all four of us up: he had some customers and the Fluff Boys, albeit only two plus one, had some fishing. Money changed hands, then we readied for the off.   Damerham holds a historic place in the realm of small stillwater trout fisheries and is the home of the Blue Trout, a Rainbow variant. There are three ‘lakes’, Holyhead, Mayfly, and Horseshoe, interlaced by the threads of the chal

  I fished this particular swim every time I fished that beat on the river, always stopping a little before the bend to fish the glide into the deep pool. It was somehow magical, mysterious, I couldn’t pass it by without making a cast or two. It’s not that the swim was a banker, a spot where I always caught, but it drew me back, nevertheless. I had fished down the entire beat, grimly determined despite the sudden, unexpected squall that caught me without waterproofs, I was soaked through and chilled to the bone, but still drawn to that swim to make my final attempts in the failing light. I arrived in position and spotted a rise near the far bank from what seemed to be a good fish. I bent to my dry fly box to make an appropriate selection, and was suddenly startled to find an elderly chap standing by my left elbow, his tweeds as soaked through as I was. “This is a lovely spot” he said, wringing water from his old, flat cap “Do you mind if I watch for a while?” I agreed, adding “I

  Driving to the reservoir we chatted about all sorts of things, but as usual, the main topic was fishing. Phil, my mate, informed me he’d been reading a book about reservoir and lake fishing styles, and having thought about it long and hard he believed he had come up with a winning combination of flies for a three-fly cast: “It’s all about having patterns that work together as a team, instead of as individuals” he said, “I reckon I have figured out the ultimate selection”. He wouldn’t elaborate any further and changed the subject. In the boat he waited until after I had tied up my three-fly cast and then revealed his master plan: “On the point goes a big, black Woolly Bugger” explained Phil “then on the middle dropper is a pearly Cormorant and finally the top dropper is a tiny nymph”. I stared blankly. “You just don’t get it, do you?” he said, “The big black fly represents a monster dragonfly nymph, which is chasing a small fry, which in turn is after the little nymph”. He rou

    Brian hasn’t fished Manningford Trout Fishery for some years, so that’s why we picked it this time. Considering we both usually fish Hampshire’s small stillwaters, a trip into neighbouring Wiltshire   represents great value for money: a four fish C&K ticket for £40, add in a lovely fishery with excellent facilities, fully finned trout, and what’s not to like? It’s also a nice drive too, around an hour depending on the traffic, crossing some beautiful countryside and passing through pretty villages.   Received wisdom says lures fished deep this time of year, so we both started with intermediate outfits for pulling lures, trying different countdowns before starting the retrieve. I commenced operations along the windward bank, a strong ripple on the surface, save for the bits in the lee of the three islands. There was plenty of room to leapfrog each other along the bank, only another four customers were present, one of whom was fishing the river beats. Fish were rising intermit