Sebastian, Nemo, frogs and winning

Well readers – since we last spoke I’ve been out at a couple of  trout fisheries attempting to develop my fly fishing skills beyond beginner stage 🙂  Although I’m now successful in catching fish most of the time, I’ve never landed one on my own, always needing help with getting the net under the fish in the water. It always seems like you need 3 hands to do this??  I had never taken the hook out of the fishes mouth myself so now was the time to start! Rob had been tutoring me in a method of fly fishing that is slightly worryingly called the “booby method” which entails the use of a fly made with a little foam head that floats well on the surface and then little buzzer flies and nymphs that hang lower in the water. So, lots to learn this year!   

I did think, prior to taking up fishing, that discussing weight, size and numbers of fish caught was a male orientated activity and not one a woman would be drawn into. But last week,  on a particular pool, the unusual situation arose where I had caught three fish and Rob only one. I noticed a small but highly competitive spark leap across my brain and the unspoken contest commenced. The goal? To catch the bag limit of four fish before my husband did. 

The owner of the fishery passed by me on his way to tend to the specimen fowl in the aviaries nearby. He cordially enquired how I was doing and on hearing the “good news”  passed comment that catching more fish than my husband was not good for the “marital relationship”. However, I was sure it would be good for character building (husband’s of course!). 

It wasn’t long before the old adage “pride comes before a fall” was needed as husband bagged his fourth fish before I did, so now it all depended on the weigh in. Last year as a beginner, I was happy to catch nothing as I enjoyed learning the new skill and being out of doors.  Now the competition was definitely on and all noble thoughts of the previous season flown away.

My next catch was a cute little crayfish but more of him later. Once my fourth fish was landed, we walked nonchalantly back to the hut where the weighing scales were beckoning. I can report I had the greatest total weight (by a couple of ounces) – 8lb 2ozs – and one of my fish was heavier than any of Rob’s, weighing in at 2.75 lbs but he won the contest by telling me how proud he was of me 😉

You may be wondering about the crayfish which resembled a small lobster. A few weeks previously, at a fishery in Woolaston near the Rivers Severn and Wye , I caught a frog on my fishing line which was definitely unintentional and probably the most unsavoury fishing  experience I’ve had so far! This incident definitely needed the intervention of a husband to detach the frog carefully from the hook and return it to the pool. Catching a crayfish was also unintentional but quite interesting as it resembled Sebastian, the cute little lobster in Disney’s “The Little Mermaid”. My youngest daughter spent many hours as a young child repetitively watching the film before progressing to become a Disney princess fan. The songs hung around in my brain for many months as any parent of young children will no doubt identify with! I have another daughter with a talent for performing condensed versions of animated movies with all the voices and key quotes. “Finding Nemo” is her best! So I had a soft spot for the little crayfish. which was about as big as my hand. Taking a cloth from my bag I gently held him while I removed the hook. Trying to place him back quickly in the pool, I found the little fella was clinging onto the grass for dear life with his pincers and lots of little legs!! I finally wrestled him free and returned him to the pool still clutching grass to his chest. I do hope he forgives me soon!!

Fly fishing, black swans and scones

There’s nothing quite like catching a few trout with flies you’ve tied yourself for making a birthday boy very happy. That’s why Rob and I recently headed for the Bransford Game Fisheries http://www.bransfordgame.com/ near Worcester with celebration in mind.   Two of the fishery pools are fed with water from an underground reservoir of Malvern Spring water and are well stocked with fish from Bibury Trout Farm. A pre-trip look at the weather forecast and predicted temperature had caused us to think the fish would stay deep and we chose some hand tied lures and wet flies with this in mind.

Leaving the motorway,  it was as if the Malvern hills  presented themselves to us, a low wintery sun throwing the undulations of their geological structure into stunning relief. The countryside looked welcoming but the car radio predicted blustery winds, not good for fly casting especially for a beginner like me!

The forecast proved correct and on leaving the car, I put on as many coats and warm accessories as I could manage while still retaining the ability to move. Those of you who have read my previous post “Sea fishing, frost and lemon cake” will recognise this as a recurring theme!

We waddled over to the Anglers Rest Room – the best one I have found so far in my short fly fishing career. A modern brick built building with kitchen, kettle, microwave, weighing area and even carrier bags to take your catch home in. Add to that the picnic table, barbecue and separate ladies and gents toilets and it makes a facility acceptable to any lady angler no matter how genteel their upbringing! Quite a contrast to the small camping toilet at the beautiful Loch Sherup in Scotland but the less said about that the better! On the other hand,  I’ve since been to rural India becoming well acquainted with a variety of their official and unoffical toileting arrangements. Imay well view the dear little Loch Sherup toilet with great affection this coming summer!

Our friend James soon arrived bearing homemade scones. He really is a good baker, taking great care over the creating process with yummy results. The scones along with bacon butties would make up our lunch.

Once we had set up our fishing gear we ventured onto the far lake having worked out how to position ourselves so that the strong wind blew from behind us. Out there, the sound of the wind was earachingly relentless and stole the words and breath from our mouths at times. I was able to stand leaning into the support of the wind (always fun until it suddenly dies down and leaves you stumbling backwards)and at times, I crouched down suddenly to avoid being blown over.

We adapted a version of back casting and holding the rod low when retrieving to avoid the wind blowing the line into a knotted up mess. It was certainly not text book methodology! God must have looked on me with favour as I experienced hardly any line tangles as I cast and got my hook caught on the bushes behind me only once or twice. 

I spent the next hour fishing while admiring the winter shapes of the reeds and a pair of black swans that often frequent the pools, their bright red beaks making a striking contrast against the black waterproofed feathers.

After a while, I felt the eagerly awaited tug of a trout sampling the colourful lure that had sunk deep into the water. I pulled the rod up to secure the hook firmly in the fishes mouth and played the trout successfully for a while until, inexplicably, the line came loose and the trout got away! As still quite a beginner in training, both catching and losing the fish are equally inexplicable to me. No doubt seasoned fishermen and women will have explanations of what I did or didn’t do correctly but at the moment it’s all fun and I’m enjoying the learning process. The fish had a few more  bites at my lure but none obliged by allowing themselves to be caught.

Rob and James went on to catch their quotas of fine looking rainbow trout and even a brownie which was returned to the pool.  

One or two of the fish were female, full of eggs.When we gutted and filleted them later, the eggs spilled out, bright orange pearls worthy of any authentic sushi bar.

As it was so windy and I was recovering from a virus, I decided it was time to retreat to the Anglers Rest to cook the bacon sandwiches. This attractive plan was thwarted by a broken microwave. The scones became the main course accompanied by a cafetiere of freshly ground coffee. The jam was delicious and a pot of clotted cream with a thick crust completed the picnic which we ate at the wooden picnic table overlooking the lakes and the valley.

 

If you value good flyfishing, excellent facilities, beautiful views and an array of natural phenomena to wonder at while you relax why not give this fishery a visit 🙂 If you don’t know how to fly fish, why not try a new hobby this coming Spring?

Sea fishing, frost and lemon cake

Hello everyone – it’s been a while so I have 2 new blog posts for you this weekend 🙂 Watch our for number 2 tomorrow!

Today was impromptu – earlier this week  friends asked if we would like to join them sea fishing in Barmouth on Saturday. I love a day at the seaside so spent the week in anticipation. Barmouth was a childhood holiday location.  It was there that I discovered I loved Portmeirion pottery as we stayed in a house one year which had a kitchen full of it. I spent my 18th birthday there too.

I didn’t plan much because no young children = less bags and planning doesn’t it??  Or does it! We were to set off at 7 am to catch high tide. At 6.45 am I couldn’t decide on dress code. I wouldn’t be fishing (I only know fly fishing and didn’t fancy getting blown off the harbour wall today learning any other kind) but would still be out in the same weather conditions as the others. Thick frost carpeted the street outside at 6.50 am. In a moment of random indecision,I grabbed 2 coats, 3 pairs of gloves with varying degrees of coverage from wrist warmers to special self heating thermal ones, a pair of spare leggings and socks and 1 scarf.  Add to this the hair brush and grips for the inevitable bad hair day in the winter sea air, the emergency banana in case we can’t stop for breakfast due to catching the tide and the notebook for making blog notes of course!

Filling the boot of our friends car with my “carefully planned” stuff, off we go. As dawn breaks the countryside sparkles with white frost – so beautiful. We decide to stop later for bacon sandwiches at our favourite roadside “shack”. The emergency banana is no longer needed and so is eaten early into the journey. Washed down with little espressos made of Rob’s home roasted Kenya AA coffee and a very civilised wafer biscuit and chocolate covered coffee bean.

Welshpool and onwards is lost in a mist of frozen air but we emerge from the other side and start to plan lunch and tea shops for later. Then the picturesque Barmouth bridge comes into view and the lone gothic house set on the side of the estuary and I know we’re near!

The harbour road is blocked off due to sand drifts from some previous desert like sand storm. Leaving the warm car for the cold sunny car park, I opt for both coats, all the gloves, the scarf and a borrowed pair of overtrousers. Realising I have no hat, Tina lends me her best pair of ear muffs from New York:) Looking like the Michelin man but sporting very stylish plaid and fur ear muffs, I waddle along the harbour wall.

The view in the winter sun against the blue sky is stunning but the wind is bitterly cold. We opt for the lower part of the wall where it’s relatively sheltered. Tina and I take a seat and drink Rooibois tea while providing encouraging comments to our menfolk such as “How many lures have you lost so far?” ” So your aim is to catch 10 different varieties of seaweed?” and “Shall we go and fetch that bag of lures that just blew away?”

After disentangling much seaweed from fishing lines with not a fish in sight, we decide it’s time for a fish and chips lunch. To be honest, Lyndon had mentioned fish and chips in a wistful tone since about 10.30 am. However, it was when we became concerned that we had destroyed a whole underwater seaweed habitat that we thought it best to leave…………

Lunch is good sitting outside on a bench watched by a vigilant lone seagull (Mine!  mine! mine!……quote for Finding Nemo lovers). Back in the car heading for Dolgellau and tea shops we stop off at a river fished many times by our friend. It used to be full of salmon and seatrout until poachers poisoned the water a couple of times and numbers dropped dramatically. It was good to hear his fishing tales, some very funny.

We arrive at a great tea and coffee house in Dolgellau at Parliament House, originally an old hardware store. The owners have retained the old shop fittings with wonderful wooden pigeon holes from counter to ceiling filled with cups, pots and tearoom paraphernalia. Ornate light fittings and glass fronted wooden cabinets are all utilised. The home made cakes are of the highest quality, including hazelnut and coffee cake. The counter is filled with a large range of loose teas with bohemian sounding names such as Russian Caravan tea.

Sitting back at home with slices of crusty toast and Primula cheese spread we agree it’s been a most enjoyable day 🙂