A Pilgrimage to English Chalk Streamsby Jonathan Boulton Managing and guiding on a variety of rivers in Mpumalanga I must admit I was pretty confident tackling up on the manicured banks of the world famous River Test. After all, the other anglers I had seen wouldn’t make me too nervous if I was a fish, draped from head to toe in tweed, often wearing a tie and armed with heavy 6/7 wt split cane rods which looked about as deadly as a piece of spaghetti that had been drastically overcooked! OK - that was a humbling experience, as I soon realised that the better part of the English summer was going to be spent climbing and scrambling up the steep learning curve of English Chalk Stream fishing. Stalking wild browns in shin deep water so clear that you often wonder whether the fish is just hovering in mid air on the banks of rivers which have been intensively managed for over two hundred years is inexplicably inspiring as well as a great leveller. However English Chalk Stream fishing is not all its cracked up to be, and from a foreign anglers point of view the world renowned fishing falls into two categories, the easy and the not so easy. Some stretches of the famous rivers like the Test and Itchen are labelled nothing more than flowing put and take fisheries by the English flyfishing fraternity. The increasing rod pressure on these prestigious stretches over the years and the growing need for easy fishing from the expanding clan of weekend fishing City stockbrokers has resulted in attractive, yet very unchallenging fishing. A bank-side that you could fish in your dinner suit and not have to worry about a dry cleaning bill the next day! Over conditioned brownies with fins looking like they have a bad case of the mange hover uneasily in the clear water, snapping aggressively at the most mediocerly presented dry flies. These fish are dumped in on the Thursday and await the Duke and his party eagerly on the Saturday morning, sound familiar? The not so easy fishing is on water not reserved exclusively for the weekend elite. Usually run by local clubs and one very much gets the feel that it is fishing run by fishermen for fishermen. Stretches such as the River Nadder and River Avon owned by the Salisbury District Angling Club and run by the infinitely knowledgeable full time River Keeper Laurie Stokes, who after a hard day on the river relaxes by no other means than lifting his split cane off the wall and fishing the beats himself the ultimate in fishery management as far as I am concerned! I have always imagined the countryside of Southern England to be the least intimidating and life threatening in the world - I couldn’t have been further from the truth. Back home I spend the better half of my day outdoors on the water and thankfully do not suffer from hay-fever, but walking through an English meadow waist deep in wild flowers and grasses I reckon even Darth Vader would get chronic hay-fever. The clouds of pollen soon have the eyes streaming and nose running so that when negotiating a rickety style it is just becomes a matter of time before you stumble into a clump of stinging nettles - and then know the meaning of discomfort. The final straw is the indignation of being charged by a pair of aggressive swans with a major hang up about foreign anglers. I must admit I have felt more at ease drifting the Okavango fishing for Tiger fish under the watchful eye of cranky hippos and crocs… Using cover takes on a new meaning with Chalk Stream fishing and spending the majority of the day on your hands and knees does wonders for your lower back. South African Derek Manson, now living and working in the UK, illustrated the importance of fishing Commando style time and time again, and never as long as I live will I forget the sight of his six foot four frame attempting to conceal itself behind a 30cm high clump of sedge grass! Derek moved over to the UK some time ago, working in the tackle retail business in London and guiding during the summer months on the Chalk Streams. Last year he secured a position guiding in the Tiera del Fuego where casting to and landing 20lb sea trout in winds of 100mph have in my opinion made him a regular walking text book of river craft. Derek and I fished on numerous occasions, the most effective and satisfying method being to share a rod, one person walking 20 ft ahead spotting while the other waited to be called up and then cast to a particular fish. Simply walking up stream, leap frogging the pools as one might in South Africa would result in spooking fish. Due to the featureless, flat, shallow bed of the stream a panicking brownie would bolt upstream, in turn spooking all the fish it rushed past and soon making the whole affair quite fruitless. We spent one afternoon walking Fishing Break’s stretch of the River Dever, a tributary to the famous River Test. Fishing Breaks, owned by Simon Cooper offers one of the largest selections of guided and unguided Chalk Stream fishing available. Simon Ward, the resident river keeper pointed out his carefully positioned bank-side and mid-stream current deflectors while he explained their implications on wild trout habitat. Simon’s intensive river management and habitat enhancement programme which I was over to study was undoubtedly working as Derek and I had sighted numerous sizeable wild fish of 8 inches and needless to say itched to throw a line. Once I had the days photographs and note taking out of the way, we took it in turns and worked back upstream towards the vehicle, when Derek froze and pointed, a perfectly camouflaged wild fish of around 7 inches, discernible only by the shadow it cast on the clean, gravel stream bed. I covered the fish three times with a Pale winged Olive, five minutes or so apart, each time the fish altered the pitch of its large pectorals and allowed the current to push itself upwards, following the fly for a couple of feet before darting back to its lie. Eventually Derek crept back towards me with about as much finesse as the abominable snow man - "size 18 CDC emerger - watch him eat it" he whispered. We took the tippet down from 4 to 2lbs, greased the end and ‘ginked’ the very top of the fly. Whether it was Derek’s skilfully inspired fly change or just a lucky drag free drift, I don’t know, but the little brown exploded upwards like a Polaris missile and engulfed the fly - the fight and release I certainly savoured but that was the least of it. It had taken 35 minutes from the fish being spotted to the take. 35 minutes of knee cramping, back aching , palm sweating concentration to finally produce a fish that would fit into one hand. I think it was after that little fish that my priorities in fishing shifted and I knew satisfaction… Taken from |
|
|
|
|
