Snowbee
Drakes Court
Langage Business Park
Plymouth, Devon PL7 5JY
United Kingdom
South West Lakes Trout Fisheries Report August 2023
South West Lakes Trout Fisheries Report
August 2023
The weather was mixed throughout August, with a mixture of wind and rain as well as some warm humid days with the occasional thunderstorm, interspersed with some bright sunny days. Generally water levels continued to fall, although at a fairly slow rate.
Fishing
Kennick – Boat and bank anglers both enjoyed equal measures of success, averaging just under two fish per rod, with both floating and sinking lines catching fish. Clampitts Bay, Smithacott, Poplar Bay, and The Narrows proved to be the most productive locations. In spite of some large hatches, only a few fish succumbed to dry patterns (Sedges, Daddies, Amber Hoppers, and Klinkhammers), with most fish preferring to feed sub-surface on a variety of wet and nymph patterns (Damsels, Montanas, Diawl Bachs) or lures (Boobies, Vivas, and Blobs). Peter Gilpin (from Newton Abbot) caught seven rainbows to 3lb, mainly on Green and Black Boobies; Graham Roberts (from Totnes) caught a nice 3lb rainbow, fishing deep from the bank at Poplar Bay. Anthony Jenkins (from Modbury) caught five rainbows to 3lb using a sinking line, fishing deep in Clampitts Bay using yellow and Black Blobs. Graham Roberts (from Torquay) caught four fish to 3lbs from a boat, including a spectacular, beautifully coloured brown trout of 2lb 4oz, using a dry fly in Clampitts Bay.
Siblyback – Fishing continued to be challenging at Siblyback this month, with only very few surface feeding fish evident – this, however, changed in the last week of the month (when rod averages dramatically rose to six fish per rod). Floating lines were the most popular, with a few fish taking dry patterns (Hoppers and Black Gnats), and more taking sub-surface nymphs and wets (Diawl Bachs, Montanas, Soldier Palmers) or lures (Red Baby Dolls and White lures). Most fish were congregated around The Meadows, Stocky Bay, The North Bank, and by the dam. Simon Peters (from Truro) caught a bag of twelve rainbows, most fish coming to a single goldhead Blob, fished on a floating line and long leader, in Stockie Bay. Benjamin Lang (from Launceston) enjoyed a good session, catching a superb wild brown trout of 1lb 8oz from the Meadows bank using a Claret Hopper, as well as five rainbows to 2lb 8oz from the margins along the North Bank using Claret and Ginger Hoppers.
Burrator – Longstone, Lowery Point, Back Bay, and Bennetts South Bank produced most of the fish caught over the month, with anglers averaging just over two fish per rod. Large numbers of flying ants meant that plenty of fish were showing toward the end of the month, when floating line tactics tended to work well, often when pulling a Cats Whisker or Bibio Snatcher – Alan Lawson (from Plymouth) used this method to hook five rainbows to 2lb one morning; on another session Alan caught five rainbows to 2lb, four on a dry Sedge pattern. Mark Sinclair (from Horrabridge) caught three rainbows to 3lb, using a deep-fished intermediate line. Patrick Murphy (from Plymouth) caught a beautiful wild brown of 1lb 8oz in an evening session, fishing tight into the tree cover on South Bank.
Stithians – The fishing proved to be more challenging this month at Stithians, with anglers averaging just under two fish per rod. Generally floating lines with a range of retrieval methods worked best. Successful dry patterns included Sedgehogs, Black Beetles, Sedges, Daddies, Hoppers, and Hawthorns, while Black Pennells, Cormorants, Montanas, and Orange Nomads all caught deeper feeding fish. Fish were well spread out, but Yellowort, Pub Bay, Hollis, and Goonlaze all regularly featured on catch returns. Simon Peters (from Cusgarne) enjoyed a good early morning session fishing in the fog, catching two browns on Daddylonglegs, and three rainbows using Hoppers and fast retrieved Blobs. David Williams (from St Just) caught seven rainbows using Cormorants and Orange Blobs on a floating line.
Fernworthy – A quiet month at Fernworthy, with little surface activity, in spite of plenty of flying ants on the water. Floating lines with fast retrieved sub-surface patterns (Blue Flash Damsels, Black and Peacock Spiders, Hares Ears, and Pheasant Tails) caught fish, mainly below the boathouse, Brownhills, and Thornworthy. Dave Redding (from Ropely, Hants) caught four browns to 45cm using a Black Gold Ribbed Hares Ear, while fishing in strong winds.
Colliford – Great sport continues at Colliford, with anglers averaging just under 5.5 fish per rod, and the best locations including Lord’s Waste, Fishery Hut Bay, and the bank by the dam (although it always pays to keep on the move and cover as much water as possible). Floating lines, fished either with single flies or teams of three wets, proved to be the most successful, with the most productive patterns including Soldier Palmers, Bibios, Blue Zulu, Daddy Longlegs, and Hares Ear Nymphs. Chris Tilyard (from Fraddon) caught nine browns (and lost another six) in one session, and 9 browns to 16” using a CDC Hopper fished close to the bank in another. Brian Robinson (from Chandlers Ford) caught a bag of sixteen browns to 1lb.
Roadford – The fishing has at last improved at Roadford, with anglers averaging over 5.8 fish per rod, with the best sport at South Wortha, Shop Bank, Grinnacombe, and the Big Oaks. Floating lines are the preferred method, fished in conjunction with a selection of nymph patterns (Hares Ear, Pheasant Tail, Diawl Bach, and Kate McLaren). Charles Langton (from Chagford) enjoyed an excellent session, catching nine browns to 14”, using nymphs and a floating line, some in less than a foot of water in the margins, while others were caught fifteen yards off the banks at Big Oaks.
Wistlandpound
Wistlandpound is giving good sport with rudd and quality brown trout.
Please see South West Lakes’ website (www.swlakestrust.org.uk/trout-fishing) for more information on buying tickets, boat availability and booking, and forthcoming events.
Chris Hall (August 2023)
A FRANTIC FIFTEEN MINUTES WHETS THE APPETITE
July and August are often quiet months for Stillwater trout fishing with last season an absolute disaster with the prolonged drought and hot weather putting fish off the feed or sending them into the cooler depths of the lake. This year has been different and after a wet and cooler July and August I had heard that Wimbleball was fishing well. A trip was undoubtedly needed but with jobs to do at home an all day trip was not an option.
A half day ticket at Wimbleball starts at 4.00pm and gives over four hours fishing during August at what should be the best time of day.
The weather forecast gave light North West Winds with occasional showers some of them potentially thundery. It was raining when I left home at around 2.30pm and I hoped the rain would ease by the time I arrived.
It was a pleasant drive over Exmoor and I noted the tinges of Autumn starting to show on the trees. I drove through occasional heavy showers and spells of sunshine that illuminated the moorland landscape.
It was raining steadily when I pulled into the car park where another angler was parked up waiting for the rain to ease before heading out to the lake. I set up under the shelter of the car boot opting for a floating line and longish leader with a tip fly and two droppers. I tied a damsel on the point and daiwl Bach’s on the droppers.
It was good to walk out onto the lake’s foreshore once again, I was a little surprised at how far the lake had dropped since my last visit. I knew it was now at around 75% but that’s quite a bit of exposed shoreline. The foreshore is coated in lush green growth of wetland plants and flowers that exuded a pleasant almost minty aroma as I walked eagerly to the water’s edge.
I waded out and put a line out onto the water slowly retrieving as I took in the panorama of lake, sky and land. Dark foreboding clouds, glimpses of blue, lush green fields and trees bedecked in their dark summer foliage. Ducks foraged in the shallows their heads emersed and curly rears exposed in typical duck fashion. A heron’s call echoed across the lake, swallows and martins swooped low over the water. The margins were alive with tiny fry that would surely provide a feast for predatory trout over the coming months.
I settled into the searching mode of cast and retrieve occasionally trying different flies and trying different areas of the bay. I saw a couple of fish rise shortly after starting but nothing seemed interested in my offerings and after three hours I was starting to have a few doubts. I have not blanked at Wimbleball since the lakes fishing has been under the management of Mark Underhill in 2018!
After trying different areas, I headed back to where I had started and again commenced the searching rhythm. A fellow angler fishing along the bank to my right seemed to have the body language indicating a lack of success. I heard him comment to his friend; “time to cut our losses and head for home”.
It was now just after 7.00pm and there was just an hour and a half permitted fishing time remaining. I had reverted to the damsel on the point, a diawl bach on the middle dropper with a sunburst blob on the top dropper.
As the luckless angler disappeared from view the line suddenly zipped delightfully tight. A trout erupted from the water and after a strong encounter a slim full tailed rainbow graced the net. The silvery flanks, full tail and sleek appearance reminded me of a fresh run grilse.
Next cast the line again zipped tight a trout leaping from the water. A beautiful wild brown trout of close to a pound that was quickly returned after capturing an image. To my delight the next two casts produced another brace of wild browns with vivid spotted flanks of olive green, bronze and buttery cream.
I fished on expectantly and missed one more fish as the light began to fade. Judging by the size of the swirl behind the lure it was a good sized fish. Shortly after sunset I eventually made my tenth last cast and walked back to the car.
In just over four hours hard fishing I had tempted four trout within a frantic fifteen minute spell. Had a shoal moved in? Had they just switched on for that short feeding spell? Whatever had happened it had whetted my appetite and I look forward to return trips during the autumn months when the fishing promises to be very exciting. With ongoing stocking of full tailed rainbows throughout and those wild browns that will surely feast upon those marginal fry. I wander how big those browns go to? Only one way to find out!
RIVERWOODS NIGHT AT LOXHORE
On October 6th North Devon Angling News will be hosting a screening of Riverwoods supported by the National Trust and Adrian Bryant from Braunton’s Countrywise Centre . The film is an evocative documentary highlighting the decline of salmon and how this catastrophic collapse of natural ecosystems can be prevented.
The film will be followed by short presentations from National Trust Wetlands Ranger James Thomas and Wayne Thomas talking from the heart about salmon populations across the West Country. Refreshments will be provided to enjoy with discussion and debate around the issues raised.
THE CHALLENGE – SALMON IN HOT WATER
Over many centuries, the loss of natural woodlands alongside rivers has profoundly changed their ability to support the salmon runs that once flourished. Today, many of Scotland’s rivers run through bare, treeless glens, reflecting the ecological decline that we have come to accept as normal.
Within those rivers, the King of Fish is in crisis. Atlantic salmon rely on cold, clean water and are susceptible to pollution, abstraction and rising river temperatures due in part, to a lack of river woodlands that would once have shaded and nourished our rivers.
Restoring a rich mosaic of woodland habitats to Scotland’s river catchments is a vital step in providing food and sanctuary to young salmon, giving them the best chance of migrating to sea before returning as titanic adults to their natal river to give life to the next generation.
Fast facts:
- Only 3% of Scotland’s native woodland remains.
- More than 90% of all living Atlantic salmon measure under 12cm, making young fish in particular, susceptible to rising river temperatures.
- Salmon eggs can survive water temperatures up to 16c. In a changing climate and without the shade afforded by trees, recorded water temperatures in some of Scotland’s rivers are exceeding the lethal limit for Atlantic salmon.
- At any given time, 90% of the world’s salmon exist in rivers, placing an emphasis on restoring their freshwater habitat.
- In the 1960s, 30% of adult salmon returned from the sea to spawn; today that figure is 3%.
RIVERWOODS – the initiative
Riverwoods is a broad partnership of organisations, focused on restoring a network of riparian woodland* and healthy river systems throughout Scotland, and increasing the ecological connectivity between land and rivers.
Learn more here: https://www.riverwoods.org.uk/
*Riparian woodland includes trees and woods within a river catchment, that influence river processes such as recycling nutrients, storing carbon and regulating water temperature, and flow. This includes instream woody structures, gorge and floodplain woodlands, wet and bog woodlands, and those far beyond the riverbank that still shape and govern river processes.
Why are river woodlands special?
Native trees and shrubs next to rivers, streams and lochs perform a range of vital functions. They provide shade, which helps regulate the temperature of the water; their roots stabilise riverbanks and offer vital shelter to young fish; leaves and insects falling into the water provide a valuable food source for a range of aquatic creatures, and a rich tapestry of vegetation locks away carbon, filters pollution and slows run-off.
RIVERWOODS – the film
The salmon need the forest. The forest needs the salmon. And Scotland needs them both.
Riverwoods is a spectacular and compelling story of Scotland’s Atlantic salmon – a fish that is the angler’s ultimate prize and a key building block in a complex forest ecosystem.
The feature-length documentary filmed and produced by rewilding charity SCOTLAND: The Big Picture,shows how Scotland’s rivers have been greatly diminished but crucially, how they could be reborn through a shared vision of restoration and recovery.
- Restoring river woodlands at a catchment scale is an effective nature-based solution to help secure the future for Atlantic salmon.
- River catchments with a mosaic of native woodland habitats, sequester carbon, reduce erosion, improve water quality and slow catchment run-off.
- The health of Scotland’s rivers and the life within them, is directly dependent on the health of the landscapes through which they flow.
- HOW YOU CAN HELP
- Tell your friends, family and work colleagues about the Riverwoods film and encourage them to attend one of the film screenings (it’s free!).
England: Cumbria, Carlisle, River Caldew, Holme Head weir, November
Beware of ticks a cautionary tale
Shady River Fishing shared this cautionary tale recently that I feel is worth sharing on North Devon Angling News.
Ticks are very common in the vicinity of moorlands streams and rivers.
I THOUGHT I SHARE A CAUTIONARY TALE……
About 2 months ago I was fishing in the Devon countryside as usual. When I got home I noticed a Tick Nymph on my inside leg, so I pulled it off as I usually do when I see them on me. I’m always getting bit by ticks and did not think much of it, I just pull em out and forget about it. The next day I noticed a red rash around the bite, now normally the tick bite stays small then it goes away. This Rash was much bigger than usual and prompted concern from my fishing widow partner, who insisted I go and check it out, so I of course I didn’t do that. Anyway a few weeks later I was feeling very tired and aching knee joints and generally put it down to being over 40. After about another week or so I rang the doctor and went to see the Nurse who took some general blood tests, at this point I said “could you test me for Lymes Disease by any chance?” She said “yes we can do”, so she did.
Fast forward another four weeks and I was wondering on the test because I hadn’t improved much. I rang the surgery and was told in no uncertain terms that I had indeed contracted Lymes Disease!!!!
I was quite shocked but perhaps I shouldn’t have been as I am always up the River chasing Salmonoids and I can’t remember how many times I’ve pulled ticks off of myself, so suppose it was just a matter of time before this could happen. Anyway it’s a big long course of antibiotics and no Beer either ♂️ I was fishing on this occasion on the Mighty River Lyn when I got bitten, it’s full of ticks up there at certain times, but Ticks are everywhere around this part of the country and unfortunately so is the Disease. So be careful out there folks.
https://www.nhsinform.scot/illnesses-and-conditions/injuries/skin-injuries/tick-bites
FROM CASCADING WATERS
Over fifty years ago I caught my first brown trout from the River Umber that flows through the village of Combe Martin. The fish was tempted on a small red worm a small wild brown trout with a butter shaded belly, olive flanks and crimson spots. Sadly, their numbers have plummeted in this tiny stream as a result of pollution and reduced flows.
Fortunately; there are still many miles of healthy rivers in North Devon and whilst migratory fish have declined the wild brown trout are thriving and offer delightful sport on light fly fishing tackle.
I decided to start my 62nd birthday with a couple of hours on a local river chasing those wild brown trout that were amongst the first fish I caught as a child. Armed with a 7ft Snowbee 4 wt rod I waded into the clear water and started to search flicking the flies upstream beneath a canopy of green.
Starting with New Zealand style tactics I made my way slowly up river. A kingfisher flashed by an electric blue streak that brightens the day.
After searching several runs and stickles I hooked a sprightly brownie that pulsed and turned in the current before being coaxed to the waiting net. A beautiful trout of perhaps 10” that had taken the nymph. I admired it briefly and reflected that fifty years on I still enjoy those same emotions of pleasure from catching these jewelled creatures that dwell in cascading waters.
I tempted another three pristine browns using dry flies in the next couple of hours.
Pheasants called in the nearby fields a reminder that the shooting season is not far away. Another six weeks and the river trout season will have closed again. How times flies it seems ever faster as life passes by.
There are plenty of fishing adventures on the horizon with mighty tuna and shark on the agenda. Its still good though to tune back into those wild browns in intimate waters.
A FEW CASTS INTO A FADING DAY
Wistlandpound Reservoir is just up the road from where I live and is an ideal spot to combine a summer evening walk with a few casts here and there. It was ideal that Pauline could join me and capture a few images of the scene and hopefully a fish or two. Despite being on my doorstep I haven’t visited as often as I had planned even though I did tempt some stunning wild brown trout earlier in the season.
Mid-August fishing can be a struggle so my expectations were not high so my target for the evening would be to tempt a golden flanked rudd or two. These beautiful fish are considered a nuisance by some but I see them as a pleasing diversion from the trout. I have glimpsed rudd of over a pound and would love to catch one of these larger specimens.
I had grabbed an old split cane Scottie Fly Rod that was already set up with a PTN on the point and black spider on a dropper. There is perhaps something organic and tactile about split cane and this rod could undoubtedly tell a tale or two and has a slightly poignant history.
I bought the rod from a friend at work who had picked it up at a car boot sale at Torrington. He wasn’t really an angler but had started to take a bit of an interest and we planned to take rods to the River Torridge and cast a line for trout. He was going to retire at some point in the near future and would have time to indulge in a new hobby expanding upon his love for family time, playing golf and tinkering with his sports car.
At the Roadford Fly Fair we met up with a friend and got chatting about life and fishing. How’s it going we asked to be told rather awkwardly that this would be his last Fly-fair as he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. A bit of a conversation stifler but we stumbled on and somehow got talking about fishing rods. It turned out he had sold his old Scottie Fly Rod at a car boot sale at Torrington.
Later that year I attended my work colleague’s funeral. He had retired after being diagnosed with cancer. We never did get to cast a line on the Torridge so on the odd occasion when I take out the old Scottie I cannot help but have a cast for my lost friends who had shared ownership of the old Scottie.
The sun was slowly sinking as we walked to the reservoir and there was barely a breath of wind. Reflections of trees, evening light, the occasional trout rise dimpling the surface and vapour trails decorating the cloud free evening sky.
We stopped at the first area of open bank and I extended a line upon the calm water. It took a while to adjust to the need to cast slower with the cane rod and I ended up spending a few moments untangling my fine leader. As is often the case other areas of the lake called and we ambled on chatting and absorbing the embers of the fading summer day.
We ended up on the far shoreline where I had caught a good brown trout earlier in the season. I waded out and suggested that Pauline capture a few images of me fishing out the fading day.
Tantalisingly beyond casting range the surface was broken as a large shoal of fish feasted upon something, a hatch of fly perhaps? Large numbers of martins swooped above the water a sure indication that flies were indeed hatching. I flicked a fly yards from bushes that stretched out into the lake, paused and began a slow retrieve, the line tightened. A rudd was guided to my hand and lifted from the water its flanks glowing a burnished bronze and silver in the fading light.
After a quick picture the fish was slipped back. I cast again to be rewarded with a slightly bigger rudd.
A pleasing end to the day etching out another memory I remembered those immortal lines that feature in the books written by the late countryside writer BB.
The Wonder of the world, the beauty and the power, the shapes of things, their colours, lights, and shades; these I saw. Look ye also while life lasts.
Torridge Fishery Association – Newsreel Summer 2023
The River Torridge Fishery Association
President: Lord Clinton
Chairman: Paul Ashworth Secretary: Charles Inniss Beeches Sheepwash Beaworthy Devon EX21 5NW
e-mail: [email protected] tel: 01409231237
NEWSREEL: SUMMER 2023:
The Annual Dinner and Raffle: this is always a most enjoyable evening and hopefully our new fishery officer, Sam Fenner, will be able to join us. This year the dinner will be on the last day of the season: Saturday 30th September. To book contact The Half Moon Inn: TEL: 01409231376 E-MAIL: info@ halfmoonsheepwash.co.uk
Jeremy Burden: sadly I have to report that Jeremy passed away about a month ago. He had lived in Sheepwash for 25 years and was a valuable committee member. He loved fishing the Torridge and with his dry sense of humour I know many of you will have enjoyed his company over a pint of beer at the bar of The Half Moon.
The Hatchery: we are determined to get our hatchery operational again this autumn. The number of Torridge salmon, like all the rivers in the UK, is declining at an alarming rate and it is now more important than ever to help arrest this decline by using our hatchery to rear upto 30,000 swim-up fry before releasing into the headwaters of the catchment in the spring.
Haydn, the proprietor at The Half Moon, has drawn up a lengthy document detailing the health/safety requirements and risk assessment statement regarding the use of the fish pass at Monkokehampton Weir to trap our broodstock. This has been forwarded to the EA. Once approval has been confirmed we can then prepare to open up the hatchery this autumn. All the hatchery team will have to attend a “confined space” training course and we will have to hire/purchase a portable hoist and harness to safely retrieve any member if necessary from the holding tank of the fish pass. This is all extra expense so it is even more important that the raffle is well supported this year.
Defending the sport we love: the future of river fishing is increasingly under threat. Rivers are no longer regarded as the preserve for anglers. Wild swimming, canoeing threaten the peace and quiet so important to the fishing fraternity. Conservation is currently the in-word. If we are not careful compulsory catch and release will be followed by the conservation lobby demanding a total ban on fishing with our rivers merely becoming a haven for beavers. Be warned!!
Captured memories to treasure
A mild August Sunday morning with a hint of moisture in the air, a light South West breeze bringing clouds from the Atlantic. The river was looking healthy, fairly high yet clear as morning sunlight occasionally broke through the lush trees that overhung the river.
It was only a short session but good to be wading in the cool water as I searched the river working my way slowly upstream. I was fishing a large bushy dry fly tied by Nigel Nunn
https://www.nigelnunnflies.com beneath which was tied a small copper head nymph. I tempted a couple of small wild browns on the nymph and had a few splashy rises to the dry that I failed to hook.
A good sized trout rose to the dry fly and I failed to connect so marked the spot and decided to have a try as I came back down river. I fished up covering a few likely spots with just the dry but failed to rise anymore fish.
I decided to try once more for the good fish I had risen earlier without connecting. I walked back and climbed into the river at the bottom of the pool. I worked slowly up flicking the dry fly over promising spots until I reached the place where I had raised the trout earlier. The fly floated on the river and brought a splashy rise that I again failed to connect with.
I decided upon a few minutes searching deeper with just a small jig headed nymph pattern, I leant back against a tree as I changed flies.
I wrote earlier this summer about how we go fishing to make memories and the next few moments are one of those captured memories to treasure.
As I prepared to flick the nymph into the river there was a flash of vivid electric blue as a kingfisher flew past just a rod length away. Whilst only fleeting the sight will linger in the minds eye for years to come. Downriver a movement caught my eye and I stood stock still as a heron and watched transfixed as three otters moved upriver along the far bank. I watched as they negotiated the tree roots, twisting, amazingly agile in the swirling water, scurrying in and out as they moved oblivious to my presence.
After they had passed I wandered if it was worth casting a line? I flicked the small nymph and watched the tip of the fly line as the nymph sank into the deep water. The line twitched, I lifted the rod and a trout pulsed at the lines end. Eight inches or so of crimson spotted perfection. I admired my prize briefly before slipping the barbless hook and releasing into the cool clear water.
It was time to go home with more memories made at the water’s edge.
Great Balls of Fire Ain’t no cure for the Summertime Blues?
Many thanks to Richard Wilson for once again sharing his writing on North Devon Angling News. This months article is more than a little sobering as we can see the drama unfolding on our screens each day. These are indeed interesting times to live in and the symptoms are to be seen all-round.
Sweet memories: The high-summer days as July drifts into August. Cole Porter’s lazy, hazy, crazy days as time sprawls soporific in the warming sunshine. The beer and wine on ice and all gently fusing in the company of old friends. A river burbles nearby while an occasional splashy fish shows midstream. What could be better?
So that was going to be my theme for this article: Chilled booze, cool friends and throwing the dog in (there’s no more enjoyable way to catch summer fish – more on dogs below). A comforting vision of an unfolding August caressed by warm nostalgia.
Then a lot of other stuff happened pretty much everywhere and all at the same time. Canada’s forests caught fire and New York choked in the smog, the US south and west and most of Europe wilted in record-breaking heat, the North Atlantic and the seas around Florida simmered, a lot of places flooded and England’s rivers became fetid, drought-stricken trickles of raw sewage. And, meanwhile, algal blooms suffocated seas and lakes worldwide. These events are global, national and in my garden. So writing a piece romanticising warm rivers and slow, soporific summer afternoons suddenly seemed clumsy.
Instead, an old curse rings in my ears: ‘May you live in interesting times’. Because, it turns out, I do. In the first week of June and in the far north of Scotland, these interesting times came to get me. Fishing was stopped on my trip to the River Oykel because the water temperatures were too high. In early June! This is a time of year and latitude when spring should be alive with bird song, wildflowers and new beginnings. Instead, we sweltered. And as we did, more bad news arrived from abroad as El Nino started flexing its muscles. It’s arriving this autumn and, by all accounts, is a bad one. And bad in this context means trillions of dollars will be lost and a lot of people will die.
We now have a lethal mix of weather and climate change, each piling misery on top of the other. As a brief aside, weather is what happens and we have climate change because if we fill the atmosphere with 200 years of industrial-era pollution it will get warmer and choke. Just as our rivers choke on shit if we keep dumping long after we should have stopped. Some people still have trouble with this idea.
That most stalwart conservative publication, The Economist, reports that a heatwave is a ‘predatory event that culls out the most vulnerable people’ – the poor and the old. They add, “It slaughters silently, snuffing out more American lives each year than any other type of weather”. It used to be cold that killed the most. Climate change, says The Economist, is deadly. I find it strange that some of the most at-risk social groups are the most strident climate change deniers (a predominantly 65+ demographic).
There are 2 possible explanations for what is happening this year, and they’re both deeply worrying. It might be a blip that fits within the warming new-normal we live with or, perhaps, a more alarming acceleration in the underlying rate of change. Whichever it is, we’ve arrived in uncharted territory. Agriculture and everything we think of as modern humanity started about 10,000 years ago and has thrived during a period of climate stability. The Earth was last this hot 125,000 years ago. So while an extra degree or two might look to some like a small twitch on the global-average temperature gauge, it isn’t when you look at the increasingly wild regional climate fluctuations – as can be seen by anyone who follows the news. And so far the scientists have been right; recent temperatures and their consequences are as most climate models projected, albeit at the hotter end. What happens next is less certain.
Life is unlikely to come to a juddering halt, but it will get a lot more difficult. As ever, there’s a caveat: Reputable research published this month suggests that the deep Atlantic circulation (AMOC), which is associated with the Gulf Stream, could fail within 3 years, altho’ that’s most likely to happen mid-century (Copenhagen University). This would indeed be catastrophic.
And look at the language we’re using. A phrase that used to hover in the margins of the climate debate has gone mainstream: the positive feedback loop. Forest fires release CO2 which warms the planet causing more fires. The same applies to methane release from thawing tundra. There are also more frequent sightings of the words runaway positive feedback loop and tipping point.
In the face of this year’s extreme weather and its major economic impacts, kicking these issues down the road in the hope that something good will happen looks increasingly futile. That thought is from the Chatham House think-tank, which isn’t given to hyperbole.
At this point, I’d like to interrupt myself briefly to ask you a question or two: How many days fishing will you lose this year because our rivers and lakes are too warm? Will next year’s fishing be better or worse? How are the redds faring?
It might seem a bit of a leap from global catastrophism to a riverbank with rod in hand, but we’re all going to have to adapt (I wrote about mitigation HERE ). Call me Nero if you like, but we humans are really good at adapting. And we’re going to have to get a lot better at it in all sorts of ways.
So, this may be me fiddling while Rome burns, but I’m hoping the rate of change is going to be at the slower end of predictions. If so, I’ll need that dog I mentioned earlier. Because the simple truth is that even in the good old lazy-hazy days you couldn’t do proper slow summer fishing without a dog and, one way or another, the dog had to go in. And where once this would have happened in late July or August, nowadays May and June are the new dog-days of summer. So the dog is my consolation; a small adaptation I can look forward to and that will keep me on the bank.
Here’s how it works: The writer Ed Zern, a man of quick wit and impeccable unreliability, told of an old timer he knew back before the Second World War. A man who claimed that, if fishing a summer pool with not a salmon to be seen, would turn his attention to catching a couple of trout for the pot. His approach was unorthodox. He would tie a 6ft leader, a dropper and a couple of wet flies to his dog’s tail, and then throw a stick across the pool. The dog, of course, was thrilled to be in the chase and the angler scored two wins: The dog stirred up the salmon and improved the fishing, and also brought back a brace of equally agitated trout for supper. What happened if the dog got into a 30lb salmon is not recorded. American salmon, according to Zern, think dogs are seals. And the caveat? As said, Zern was a very unreliable witness and the trout part of his story is unusually fishy.
This also works at night, which is another cool advantage in our brave new world. Indeed, it was at night that I discovered just how effective a dog can be and why this works (even though no dogs were involved).
Late one summer’s evening, shrouded in the gloaming, I headed out on foot for a night’s Sea Trout fishing. It was that magical hour when day hands over to night and the owls, small scurrying creatures and chuntering water replace the daytime clamour. The river was low, as is the new normal (when not flooding), but Sea Trout, as they say, will run up a wet sack. The night was charged with promise.
I moved slowly up the bank, careful to arrive at my pool without spooking the fish, and then settled down to wait for darkness to wash over the river. Only once all is crow-black, bible-black, (Dylan Thomas-black) would I start to fish.
This night was different. Through the half-light, I could see a pair of otters playing exuberant otter-tag and working their way upriver towards me. Once in my pool, they started the serious business of hunting and I had a ring-side seat as two of nature’s most beautiful creatures plundered my fishing. Time flowed by and I don’t know how long I sat enchanted and uncaring that my night’s sport was being trashed before my eyes. This was already among the most memorable of fishing nights, and I was still on my backside.
Eventually, they picked up my scent and in an instant were gone. The pool stilled and the darkness settled back around me. My senses strained, but nothing moved.
I gathered myself, my rod and my minimal kit and stepped down to the river to cast a line. It felt like a futile gesture, but it was a beautiful night and I was reluctant to leave.
The line kissed the water and the pool burst into a mid-summer’s night madness. I caught an 8lb sea trout with my first cast and another of 6lb with my third. These were big fish for this river – much bigger than the expected 1-2lb schoolies. The otters had disrupted the pool and I had reaped the benefit by dropping my fly into the chaos.
And then, just as suddenly, the fish turned off. There were no fishy splashes on the margins of my senses. Just nothing – the pool had died. The fish frenzy had lasted for the 30 minutes or so it took the remaining sea trout to slough off the otter terror and revert to their normal, elusive behaviour. It was as though the otters had never existed
How long was I there that evening? I don’t know. Time had frozen into the very essence of slow fishing, which was mostly no fishing at all. The next day I told the riverkeeper my story. He smiled and said, ‘When all else fails, throw the dog in’. It’s an old saying that happens to be the just about only piece of fishing wisdom that actually works – and climate change will have to get worse before it fails.
In the UK, dogs are otters. In Canada maybe they’re bears. Zern says they’re seals.
And climate change is global, so if we keep going the way we are there will be no salmon to throw the dog at.
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