The continuing adventures of the Fluff Club, Episode 76 *

 

 Traffic was light and Whytee pulled into the car park a few minutes before nine; when signing-in on the catch return sheet it revealed that Foggy, the Inspector, the Professor, and new member Daisy, had already done so. It appeared Jackdaw was here to, [turns out he came with Foggy], unable to fish yet following his stroke, but keen to just be around fishing again. Moneypenny arrived last, so a slightly better turnout.

 The Met Office forecast gave “cloudy all day” but Whytee was only on the third fly change, fishing ‘Birch’, the really deep one, when the first drops of rain fell. The Inspector related he’d had plenty of activity in his first fifteen minutes, and Foggy had just dropped one of maybe four pounds, but this pond was not showing much movement otherwise. As Whytee was about to move away the Professor managed to drop a fish, down at the deep end [35 feet apparently]. Later, fishing the same spot, he was snapped off by a fish, but acknowledged later it could have been a dodgy knot.

 Over on ‘Rosie’s’ I hooked a sprightly trout on an Apps worm [per Peter Appleby’s original recipe, recently found on YouTube] but before I had enough control to draw it towards me it came off. There appeared to be an outbreak of the dreaded ‘dropsy’ around.

 

Twice fish followed the fly in until under the rod tip, without taking, then the swim just died. A short move put Whytee on a swim that was very shallow close in, where the biggest Crayfish I’ve ever seen brought some diversion, crawling around, occasionally giving a slight wave of the claws. 

A Limit Damsel brought an un-hittable, lightning-fast knock after a cast to cover a swirl, but the rain was getting heavier. Faced with a dilemma: go and get a jacket from the car or take shelter, Whytee decided he would be soaked before reaching the car, so shelter was sought in the old hut between this ‘lake’ and it’s immediate neighbour. The Inspector came by, preferring to get his jacket from his car. He had experienced some quick hits to his buzzers, missing a couple and dropping two others. Not much else seemed to be happening. Things were tough.

 Whytee watched two of the biggest black midges on the inside of the hut’s windows, but they seemed comatose. They were so big you could have easily mistaken them for Stoneflies. A quarter-rod member joined Whytee in the hut, also seeking shelter. We watched the birdlife out in the rain: Dabchicks, Moorhen, Coots, Mallard, Wagtails, Golden-eye, a cock Pheasant shouting the odds, while pairs of Canada Geese stood sentry while their goslings were mowing the grassy banks.

The quarter-rod had a Rainbow of around a pound on his stringer. He told me another member, a regular, had two earlier on, then nothing so had gone home. There was a lull in the rain’s intensity and the quarter rod went out to have a couple more casts before quitting, whilst Whytee headed for the ‘club room’ to start an early lunchbreak, it was a quarter to twelve.

 Inside the club room was Jackdaw, he’d walked around some of the fishery but had to take shelter too. We talked about automatic reels and so on, but his slow progress recovering full movement of his left side precludes this for a while, although Tenkara might be a solution. The fishery provides free coffee and cake, but there were only two slices of a choc and banana loaf available, so we obliged in order to prevent any arguments when the remaining Fluff Boys came in; it seemed the polite thing to do. In due course they all arrived, in various stages of dampness and enthusiasm, the Professor soaked through. It had been hard going; Moneypenny had caught a stockie, as had Foggy, the rest of us were facing the dreaded skunk. There was many a glance through the window: just when the rain dwindled to a drizzle, it promptly strengthened again. Whytee ventured out in a drizzly spell, as did the others save for Moneypenny, who headed home, with a tale to tell of the really big Eel that had almost taken his fly, down on the bottom ‘lake’, in the valley under the canopy of trees. An hour passed without a sign of a fish, so Whytee called it a day, and left. On the way up the lane he stopped to look over the wall into the old mill pool, just as a reminder what Rainbow trout look like – there are some belters in there!

 Now, in the fishing log I always record barometric pressure and the stage of the moon, but to date have drawn no conclusions regarding the old “Solunar Theory”, but this day was a full moon [usually good] but a changing barometer [sudden changes not normally good]; however, to make more of a conundrum, this day was a ‘red moon’ [a full solar eclipse] and that very night the area was blasted by a savage electrical storm. Coincidence? You tell me. It’s nice to find an excuse other than incompetence!

* in which the names of the participants are pseudonyms in an effort to be as inclusive to others as possible, an attempt to attain the widest readership. I will be grateful for any comment the reader cares to make. Please ‘Like’ and ‘Follow’. Thank you.