No Pressure - Spring 2015

Hiraeth - longing, yearning, nostalgia 

I miss the trout season already. Strangely, it’s not the eagerly anticipated dawn ‘til dusk sessions on new beats that I miss the most, but those stolen hours on the Usk by my house. I must be getting old. 

I feel the need to relate an entire season’s worth of thoughts and experiences but, for now, I'll restrict myself to the Spring and on this unseasonably warm October evening I hold high hopes that the fish overwinter as well as they did last year.

A fat Usk trout, March 2015

Spring low

Following the mild winter, the cold dry spell in March and April resulted in some of the lowest early season Usk levels on record. At the lowest point, I noted half a dozen dead trout and a dead salmon on the Bryn Derwen beat. I also observed a fish go belly up on the Eden, momentarily concluding it was the strangest rise form I’d ever seen! I suspect that these mortalities were a result of the harsh conditions, a combination of low levels and diffuse pollution. 

Dead salmon 

Grannom

The grannom hatch proper commenced in early April and as one of the most eagerly anticipated periods on the Usk it attracts anglers from far and wide. This year was no different and ‘hatch chaser’ Paul Procter enjoyed a long weekend fishing the Bryn Derwen beat and Gwent Angling Society water.

Unfortunately (for me) I had to work on the Friday and had other obligations on the Saturday. It was a torturous test of will and commitment as a husband as I knew the grannom were hatching in force and had this confirmed by Paul over a pint or two each evening. At least someone was making the most of it.

I had pinned all my hopes on the Sunday as Paul, Dave Smith and I were due to fish Bryn Derwen. Sod’s law dictated that we awoke to a howling gale and, as I lay in bed listening to the windows rattling, I anticipated a difficult day ahead. Thankfully, my guests caught a few fish including Paul’s 19 inch adult grannom feeder. 

Paul's adult grannom feeder

A trip north

In the latter half of April Dave, Morgan and I ventured north. I had never fished the Rivers Eden and Ure and, despite a busy schedule, couldn’t pass up the opportunity to do so with two good friends. We stayed in Hawes, fishing by day and consuming beer and whisky by night. The rivers were low and clear and the fishing was challenging, but a good number of fish were returned to grannom emergers and nymphs. 

Appleby  trout

Eden Grannom

As the grannom hatch occurs later up north, we coincided with the back end. Hatches were usually over by 10am and we took a few fish in the slower water on emergers and adults. However, most of the well-marked, beautifully coloured fish were taken on small UV backed quill nymphs.

UV backed quill nymphs

On the last day we were fortunate to be hosted by Matt Eastham on a superb Eden beat. We very much enjoyed the variations in the beat and the fantastic quality of the fish, and I can’t thank Matt enough for hosting the day. 

Well marked Eden trout

Matt with a lovely trout to the dry fly

The Monnow Social

Yet again, the Social lived up to expectations - both the company and the fishing. I took a bit of flack for staying in a B&B rather than camping, but it was well worth it. On the first day I fished with Neil on one of the Monnow beats above Pandy. The beat is lightly fished and this was reflected in the stamp of the trout. 

Neil on the bank of the Monnow

Monnow Trout - image courtesy of Neil Hotchin

On the Sunday I fished with Kris Kent on a private beat further down river. Kris concentrated on the few fish that were rising while I followed employing a more pragmatic approach... We caught no monsters, but returned many trout and grayling to around 15 inches. The middle section of the beat is special - braided and heavily wooded - and as I peered through the trees it seemed as though some channels were flowing in opposing directions. During another surreal moment Kris and I were confronted by a startled roe deer crossing the river within feet of us.

Woody debris

Thanks (again) to the hard work of Rob, Patrick, Neil M and others, this event was one of the highlights of my season and long may it continue. 

Pink holo DHEs - a great fly on the early season Monnow

No pressure

Experiences on the Monnow and Usk this year have yet again confirmed that the less pressure a beat receives, the more likely it is to produce large fish. Further evidence was gathered when I managed to gain access to a short unfished beat of the lower middle Usk.

The way down

The route to the river plunged fifty metres over a cliff-like bank and I trembled as I slid on my backside until I came upon an old rope buried in the leaf litter. Clearly the beat hadn’t always been unfished… 

Hot and sweaty after the ten minute scrambled descent, I realised the beat was only fishable along a twenty metre section. Slightly disappointed, I sat and watched the head of a fast run.

After a few minutes of observing hatching yellow may duns and noting no discernible rise forms, I elected to fish two size 16 light coloured jig nymphs on a french leader rig. On the first cast, as I deliberately lifted my flies through the water column, I pricked a large fish close to the surface that made a huge commotion. I cursed, but my concern proved to be misplaced as, over the next twenty minutes, the same spot yielded four fish of over 16 inches (including one of the biggest I landed all season). The mouths of all of these wild brown trout were coated with YMD emerging nymphs. I made the slightly more strenuous journey home in no doubt that I’d just made the ten most productive casts of my life.

Usk favourites

Usk YMD emerging nymph feeder

Tempus fugit

The older and busier I become, the faster time passes. I suppose the only advantage to this worrying trend is that next March will be upon me before I know it. 

The birth of my daughter has prompted me to re-evaluate and, after an honest discussion with Matt on the banks of the Eden (while my wife was at home caring for a teething infant), we concluded that being a time poor fishing enthusiast makes me a selfish bugger. As the weeks flash by, and with another season gone, I can probably live with this. 

Reap What You Sow, River Monnow, May 2014

Reflections, Saturday 3rd May

The morning session with Dave had been superb, very challenging but, when we got it right, we were rewarded with some beautiful upper Monnow trout.

Monnow blues

Playing a Monnow trout

By mid-afternoon, while Dave was off searching for kindling to light his barbecue, I enjoyed a beer and took stock in the quiet of the valley.

I recalled a hot summer's day nearly thirty years ago with my father on the Taff Fechan. We hadn't seen a fish and were about to call it a day but, fearing the blank, I persisted with upstream worming tactics, trying to cover a very difficult eddy beneath a tree canopy. After ten minutes (and a snapped line) a fish took, certainly not the biggest, but one of the best. I remembered everything; the take, the way the fish skipped across the surface and (later), the search for my father's pipe after he drove off with it on the roof of his van! I concluded that, more often than not, fishing is like most things in life: you get out what you put in. 

The careful approach - the fish was lying in the slack water on the left

The fight

The prize - 17 inch Monnow beauty

Brushing my teeth that morning I noticed a female LDO spinner on the bathroom mirror. Was this a sign of things to follow that day? I suspected not. Dave and I anticipated a hatch of Large Brook Duns (LBDs). This proved to be the case with fish targeting the emerging duns in the faster water.

Reflection

We had taken it in turns to cautiously cast to those we spotted. Most of the surface feeders were taken on a size 14 pearl butted Wyatt's deer hair emergers (DHEs), one of my favourite flies for this time of year.

Wyatt's DHEs

When Dave managed to light the barbecue and cook our steak, we discussed the excellent conservation work that had taken place in the Monnow catchment and the upcoming Monnow Social.

Healthy lunch

Monnow Rivers Association (MRA)

A Potted History:

1998 - The DEFRA funded River Monnow Project commenced, and created the Monnow Fisheries Association (MFA) (now the Monnow Rivers Association) to improve the capacity of the river to support wild trout, grayling and other wildlife. Partners included the Game Conservancy Trust, the Wild Trout Trust (WTT), the Farming & Wildlife Advisory Group (FWAG) and local farmers.

1999 - A detailed survey of river habitat of the upper Monnow catchment identified important wildlife habitats and the extent of degradation resulting from livestock access, and quantified issues resulting from unmanaged bankside alders. The project offered farmers a programme of stock fencing and coppicing of bank-side trees and included a 10 year monitoring programme.

2003 - The first coppicing season commenced and continued annually until completion of the project in 2006.

2006 - The team continued to work with the Wye and Usk Foundation and farmers to adjust farming practice to reduce siltation in spawning areas, improve fence maintenance and ensure re-coppicing of riverside trees.

2010 – The MRA initiated the ‘Going Native’ programme to maintain and expand habitat management and eradicate invasive species such as mink, signal crayfish, Himalayan balsam, Japanese knotweed and giant hogweed.

Key achievements:

• The River Monnow Project:
• Largest ever river habitat restoration project aimed at improving the stocks of brown trout and grayling (£1.5M and countless man hours)
• Defra funding (£1.1M) was a record for such a project
• No comparable project had been as comprehensively monitored or involved as many partner organisations
• Met or exceeded DEFRA targets
• Improved the fishing quality and enhanced the value to farmers and landowners
• Eradicated mink and Himalayan Balsam
• Water voles were reintroduced to the River Dore (Monnow tributary) 

On-going work of the MRA:

• Volunteers monitor and trap mink that enter the Monnow catchment
• Active participation in the Anglers’ Monitoring Initiative (monitoring fly life)
• 'Going Native' continues to reintroduce important native species such as water voles, white clawed crayfish and ranunculus
• Continued marketing to increase the number of anglers visiting the river
• Engagement with local schools through the WTT’s ‘Mayfly in The Classroom’ project
• An annual auction and ‘The Monnow Social’ fund raising event

The late Peter Lapsley fully describes the achievements of the Monnow Rivers Association (and two of the people behind it) in his excellent FF&FT article ‘Men of the Monnow’ (February 2012 issue).

The quiet Monnow Valley

The Monnow Social, 9th - 11th May

Every year the MRA invites supporters to eat, sleep and be merry in a field on the Monmouthshire / Herefordshire border, and share in the fruits of their labour by fishing the River Monnow and its tributaries (see last year’s blog entry).

Longtown camping

Escley Magic

The forecast for the weekend was worrying with strong winds and heavy spells of rain predicted. I turned up early on a showery Friday afternoon with the intention of fishing one of the local brooks. After setting up camp and catching up with fellow Merthyr boy Gareth (who ties some of the best flies), I had the pleasure of watching Geraint land a lovely pounder from the slightly coloured Escley Brook at the bottom of the field.

The tranquil Escley Brook

Under strict instructions from Rob Denny of the MRA, I drove down river to a picturesque stretch of the Escley. I was pleased to note the abundant fly life that included LDOs, chironomids, LBDs and a couple of budgerigar sized Danica mayfly. A good number of fish, including three over ten inches, were taken on black gnats, DHEs and (in the deeper runs) silver bead PTNs.

Escley trout

When I returned from my foray downstream most of my fellow fishermen had arrived and I spent the evening catching up with friends old and new.

The Raspberry

It was with bleary eyes that I enjoyed a cooked breakfast in the main tent on the Saturday morning. I expressed my concern that the main river would be colouring after the overnight rain. Those more familiar with the Monnow reassured me that I was being an old woman. I was delighted to learn that I would be on a lightly fished beat of the main river below Kentchurch and would be joined by Kris Kent.

We had a cracking day. 

As ever the fishing was challenging but the trout came steadily. Kris was easy company as we took it in turns to target rising fish or work through runs.

On the Edge - a number of fish were lying in the back water beneath the tree

There was an 8 inch trout behind the log

The largest fish of the day was landed by Kris and I was clearly over the moon to net and return it for him.

My special fishing face

Kris' 16 inch Monnow trout

Kris caught most of his fish on dries whereas I caught around half of mine on nymphs, mainly in the morning. In the early afternoon we arrived at a pool that held two rising fish. It was Kris' turn and he efficiently hooked and landed the first, although the return wasn't as polished.

At 6'4'', Kris 'making them look small'

Caution: slippery when wet

The second fish looked big and was bubbling away in a back eddy in front of a protruding root. The position meant that if the trout didn't take my olive emerger then I would either have to lift off quickly and spook the fish or pull it slowly and risk hooking the root. With a wry smile, Kris settled down on the bank - he expected to be there for some time.

My first attempt resulted in a connection, unfortunately, with the root. Tying on a new tippet and fly gave the fish enough time to start feeding again. The second attempt went exactly the same way, as did the third. I'm ashamed to say that feeling a bit like Robert the Bruce's spider I was tempted to come back to my nemesis after lunch.

As I was tying another leader, a patient Kris - who, by now, had opened a beer - noticed the fish take a mayfly dun. The first we'd seen all day.

The fourth cast was made a good half an hour after the first and my Procter mayfly emerger was confidently accepted. That it wasn't as big as we'd thought didn't matter one bit; I was very pleased to have caught a difficult fish.

After lunch Kris and I spotted a rise in some slow water. I cast a few times and elicited no response. As it didn't rise again, Kris walked upstream to look for more surface feeders. A new fish then rose downstream of me in the main current. I collapsed my cast and, as I lowered the rod tip to maintain drag free drift, a large burgundy-looking mouth engulfed the fly. Immediately, I knew I was connected to a very good fish (or a 'raspberry' as they are referred to on the Monnow) and I shouted for Kris who, unfortunately, was out of earshot.

The fish ran hard  downstream towards a stand of willow on the near bank. With two thirds of my line off the reel and the rod high above my head I applied side strain before it made the roots. This proved futile and, as I watched the rod arc and the fly line tighten over the water, I felt that horrible sudden release of pressure as my 6x copolymer snapped. I'd lost two very big fish in two weeks and wasn't even in that contest. Another 'raspberry' blown.

Calm before the storm

It was with a face like a fighting man's posterior that I walked upriver to show Kris the two stubs where the tippet had snapped below my tucked blood knot (where it goes through the eye of the fly).

That evening Kris informed that I had looked like I was going to cry. Noting Morgan's comment that I should stop taking things so seriously, I drank deep.   

LBD Heaven

At breakfast, after a long and hilarious evening that included the brilliant Monnow Social Auction, I was informed that I would be accompanied on another lightly fished upper main stem beat by Dorset duo John and Ian. Again, I'd got lucky.

Dave showed us the beat and by the late morning I was using duo tactics to tempt several fish, all over 10 inches. As very few were rising, John was also nymphing but Ian had caught a trout of over a pound and a half on the surface.

Well marked Monnow trout

In the early afternoon the LBDs began to hatch. Knowing that the fish nearly always respond, I changed tactics. The hungry trout readily accepted my DHE, until I came to a tree lined stretch where (by now) rafts of LBDs were sailing into small back eddies formed by roots of alder and willow, and where feeding fish lay in wait.

The eddies were small so I had to land the fly quite close upstream of the fish. A dun pattern (pictured in my last entry) was better suited to this tactic and stage of the hatch.

I picked off numerous fish while marvelling at the average stamp. The trout were comparable to those caught on a good day on the Usk.

At the top of the run, in the first small back water, I cast to a dimple rise. My target took first time and, as I'd just had some practice in turning these fish from the roots, I manoeuvred it into open water. I slid the net under the 18 inch trout and observed the broad silvery form of a fantastically conditioned fish. Not quite a 'raspberry' but just as memorable.  

Return on investment - an 18 inch Monnow LBD feeder

With the run fished out (for now), I walked upstream to find my companions and was very pleased to see Ian and John catch a number of good fish on LBD and mayfly patterns.

Sitting on the bank, I heard a familiar, barely audible sound. I watched the main bubble lane and noticed the occasional LBD almost disappear. There was a big fish sipping duns or, as my mate Aled would say, "giving them a sws" (a little Welsh kiss).

I took a few deep breaths and cast. The fish rose and I struck fresh air. I sat there for another thirty minutes and it didn't resume feeding; I'd spooked it.  After that I returned every half an hour but didn't see it again. If I ever get invited back (CLANG!) then that's the first pool I'll be heading for.

Just Desserts

I was born on May 10th and had a superb birthday weekend both fishing and socialising. The Monnow catchment is one of the best managed in the UK and it was a privilege to pursue such quality trout in the serene valley.

The persistent hard work undertaken by the MRA to improve this unique river is clearly reflected in the four days of excellent fishing described above. In this case, we all get out what they put in. 

Monnow Valley rainbow

*Thanks to Dave Smith and Kris Kent for a few of the shots above

The Monnow Social - May 2013

It has been a long held ambition to fish at the Monnow Rivers Association Auction and Social and, thanks to a few mates, I managed to do so this year. 'The Social' is a celebration of the River Monnow and a great way to generate income to support the commendable river management activities of the organisers.

I had little charge in my iPhone and forgot my camera and so please excuse the absence of photographs in this entry. Probably just as well...

Middle age

I have previously fished the river (quite unsuccessfully) for winter grayling (no reflection on the river I'm sure), and so I was keen to catch a few Monnow browns on the dry fly. I met Morgan and Mark below Kentchurch at 3.00pm on Friday 10^th May (my thirty fifth birthday). They had already moved a few fish on olive emerger patterns and Mark generously showed me around the Garway beat. I elected to fish a slow pool about half way down.

There were a few small olives hatching and we noticed the occasional large dark olive and brook dun. Upon first inspection, there were no surface feeding fish, but I cast blind in order to reacquaint myself with an 8 foot #4 rod that has not seen much use. It was a relief to be on the water again as I hadn’t fished since moving house nearly a fortnight ago.

As I approached the faster water at the head of the pool I noticed what appeared to be a small dimpled rise. As I watched I could not distinguish another but cast above the spot anyway. It was difficult to make out the CDC plume of my emerger, but second cast I observed it being sipped a 10 inch brown trout. Over the next hour, I managed two similar fish using the same method. A good start.

Happy camper

It was then time to find out why the Monnow Social was named as such and we were off to Longtown where twenty odd fishermen camp in a field (thanks for the lend of the tent pegs Dan Colloby) . When we arrived many of the old hands were already suitably refreshed and I felt immediately at home. It was a good night and I finally fell over one of the guy ropes outside my tent (apologies for the bent tent peg Dan Colloby) well after midnight. Being a light sleeper, I was awake most of the night, serenaded by the snoring (and other noises) of my fellow socialites.

The morning couldn’t come quickly enough and I was very pleased to find myself drawn on a beat behind the Bridge Inn, Kentchurch. I fished with a new friend, Vince, and we had an excellent and challenging day; the highlights being an 18 inch out of season grayling and Vince missing takes when turning around to talk to me on three separate occasions!   

Brook duns

On the day, the fly life was sparse on this beat and, throughout the morning and early afternoon, there were few rising fish. By 2.00pm a number of brook duns drifted either side of the main flow and the fish responded emphatically. I have read that these flies tend not to hatch in open water and  thus, are of limited significance to the fly fisherman. Some of my experiences on the Monnow and Usk contradict this. On a recent Usk outing, the fish took these duns in preference to others (I’m very confident they were not march browns).

That evening, I was feeling tired and managed to get to bed around 2.00am after an expensive auction and impromptu sing along session with Mark (a superb blues guitarist) and others. I can assure the reader, it was worse than it sounds!

Father and son

The next morning I wangled a session with father and son team, David and Morgan. We took a few fish on nymphs early on and, as the Monnow has been successfully improved, I lost many flies to the ‘submerged habitat’.

Despite the strong downstream wind, by mid-afternoon, we located a number of surface feeding fish at the tail of a pool and took turns to catch them well into the late afternoon.

A highly sociable conclusion to a thoroughly social weekend! Thank you very much Monnow Rivers Association, I hope you’ll invite me back.