Dorset Piddle, Wild Brown Trout

Today, Easter Monday, found me in possession of a Pink Ticket to disappear for a day's fishing. I was heading for the Dorset Piddle, to fish a syndicate water which I was fully expecting to have all to myself.

I'd compared notes last week with a fellow member of the other syndicate to which I belong, and found that he was heading to Essex for a visit with the in-Laws. Now, I love my in-Laws as much as - if not more than - the next man; but I seemed to detect a hint of envy on Philip's part when I told him I would be on the water whilst be negotiated the M25.....

Just to be clear, I had "done my bit" on Easter Sunday. An unnecessarily lengthy church service - check. Ironed twenty work shirts - check. Walked with Border Terriers - check. Good Friday and Saturday had been spent in the garden and at garden centres. Both cars had been washed, so dues had been paid in full. I had the receipts to prove it.

Digressing for a moment, on Thursday 24th April I'll be spending the day volunteering for the worthy charitable cause that is Fishing for Forces. I'm looking forward to this immensely; I can't begin to imagine what active service in Afghanistan must be like. I do, however, know what a long-distance commute followed by the delights of the Waterloo & City Line is like, and how much that makes me hunger after peace and quiet.

So, back to today. Unlike my last outing there was no last-minute detour east to the Meon. I was tempted - briefly - but stuck to my plan to head west for my first day on the Piddle in 2014's trout season. And what a glorious morning it was. Words can't do justice to describe the fields of oilseed rape and I was once again left to ponder on how much earlier Spring has sprung in 2014, compared to 2013. At the river, I remarked to myself on how far the vegetation and trees had grown on since my last visit on a working party three weeks before. Rain yesterday and overnight had introduced a tinge of colour to the water, and I thought that sight fishing would be difficult.

And, so it proved. I was pressed for time so had planned to fish the water at the top of the beat. This is the clearest and most open stretch, with room to use a longer rod and a decent back-cast. A small, Olive emerger pattern went on the business end, and I cast this speculatively for the first half hour or so. Whilst enjoyable, this was unproductive. There were insects in the air but no sign of a hatch and no rising fish, so on went the nymphing rig.

Approaching the weir pool

This is a little deeper than it looks, and I was wary of a rather silty bottom, so fished from the bank. How I came to be in the water to get the shot above will become clear. With a mixture of lobbing and casting, I targeted the slightly deeper water by the far bank. Mid-day was approaching, I'd been fishing for an hour, and my first take registered. A small but spirited Piddle brownie of about half a pound gave a good account of itself, followed by a couple more fish of the same size. I connected briefly with what I believe to have been a Piddle "school peal" - very silvery with a dark back. It took to the air and rid itself of my nymph.

Then, still working from the bank, I focused on putting my nymph close in to the opposite bank, where the water was significantly deeper. It looked trouty. Mid-drift, not just a hesitation but a dead stop, followed by a lift of the rod tip. Resistance. Fish. Current. A sighting. My goodness, this was in a different class - not enormous, but enough of a glimpse to show that this was a striking fish. One I wanted to net and photograph.

It felt securely on, had been for a while. I slid into the water, unshipped my net, and tried to stay downstream. Before too long, this rather striking brownie was in the net. Relieved, I readied the camera. A very spirited fish. Who cares what it weighs, I was transfixed by the spots. This was just so beautiful, the colours so vivid, and the creature so proud and magnificent.

Speechless.

The Red Spots

Need I say any more? After releasing and reflecting on such a bonnie fish, I continued along the beat. I caught more, I missed more. I went home happy. Anybody fancy a close up?

Dorset's finest

That was one Happy Easter!

Me-on Trout: A Micro Blog

Yesterday was my first line wetting of 2014's trout season. In fact, it was my first outing since 29th January......which is why it felt like a long time since I'd last fired up the Quattro in classic Gene Hunt style and headed to the waterside.

I've seen a lot of discussion about the effectiveness of the Jingler as an early season fly, and I'd sourced some of these from the excellent Hartley Fly earlier in the week. My Jingler acquisitions had been the source of much hilarity and a limitless supply of "double entendre" wisecracks, e.g. "Tony'll be getting his Jinglers wet at the weekend" and "Make sure you dry your Jinglers properly after fishing" etc. All very childish, but understandable as there has been a certain amount of "Cabin Fever" in evidence at the office, given I was but one of three twitchy fly fishers who hadn't fished for a looooongggggg time.

My fortune is being offered the opportunity to join a small syndicate fishing a stretch of the Meon is considerable, and I was initially torn between this venue (which I'd visited but never fished before) and the Dorset Piddle. The Piddle is another small syndicate, which I'd joined last year, and apart from three working party days had been untouched since the end of 2013's trout season.

I left the house intending to head west, but decided on a whim to head east. To the Meon I was bound, Jingler-laden, feeling disorganised and under-prepared. My tackle appeared to be in the same condition of disarray that I'd left it in after what turned out to be my final grayling outing. I had envisaged that further outings would be on the cards, but the ridiculously wet weather, work and family commitments meant that this was not to be the case. It's unlike me not to have "fettled" since then - something that amuses my wife greatly, when she sees me sorting and re-sorting flies, fly boxes and tackle in general.

 Dorset Piddle Mid-February; severe flooding beginning to recede

Back to the ridiculously wet weather this winter past, for a moment. The Piddle had seen considerable flooding, like many rivers in the Wessex region, and our stretch of water has a number of fallen trees which will need to be removed. The working party three weekends ago enabled us to tackle some of the smaller ones; in a couple or more cases we didn't remove the trees. We were able to use a couple as flow deflectors and another we decided to just leave where it was. Discusssion around a further WTT advisory visit (last one was April 2010) had ensued.

Roughly the same shot, a month later

Anyway, back to yesterday. In large measures, this was really about blowing away the cobwebs. I started at the bottom of the beat, fishing an Olive Jingler, and persevered for 30 minutes with no result. The day was pleasant, cloudy but with plenty of sunny spells. It felt good to be back in the water, albeit fishless, and I switched to the duo. Underneath my Klinkhammer I tied a shrimp pattern, and cast expectantly into the shallow, streamy run ahead of me.

Bang. The shrimp was nailed and a silvery fish of about half a pound was firstly airborne then in possession of my shrimp pattern no longer. I smiled at this, pleased that the change of fly had bought a result. Was this another "school peal"? Or, merely a very pale Meon brownie dazzling to deceive in the bright April sunlight? I'll never know.

For the next couple of hours I fished up the beat and occasionally did so from the bank, as the vegetation has yet to put on its annual Spring growth spurt. My mind drifted back to 2013 and how late Spring was in arriving last year. Flies were changed, I felt in a shrimp-pattern state of mind so at one stage found myself fishing two, New Zealand style. A handful of what could have been takes, judging by the end of my fly line, proved either to be the bottom, weed or were missed fish.

A meeting of fly, leader and branch at about three in the afternoon prompted me to pause and take stock; I decided the cutting of grass and walking with Border Terriers could wait a little longer. After successfully retrieving flies and tippet with about six feet of leader remaining I tied on a shrimp pattern and an olive quill nymph New Zealand-style on a couple of feet of tippet. By now, I was working my way through a very narrow stretch of the beat, twisting with both banks tree-lined. This was close work, a couple of rod lengths at the most.

A roll cast. A good one, actually. Flies sinking quickly, line dead straight. watching the tip intently. A hesitation. A strip strike and slight lift of the rod tip (no room for more) and resistance. This was a strong current, and what felt like a good fish. Then I caught a glimpse of flank and realised how spirited the Meon trout are. I stayed downstream and did a good job of not falling over my own feet as I backpedalled slightly and unshipped my net from the back of my wading jacket. In the bag, safely, not big but certainly beautiful.

"Spot" the salmo trutta...wild, it was livid!

Breathing deeply, I kept the fish in the water whilst I readied my camera. The Olive Quill had been snaffled and I felt pleased that the change of fly, leader length and tactics had worked.

Lift and click!

In the above picture, the shrimp pattern is visible in the net.

Worth a closer look.....

And with that, my camera beeped angrily at me; I had not charged the battery so no further shots were possible. The fish was released, I was content, and able to return home to grass and terriers, feeling pleased with my day and having caught my first Meon trout.

One Lump or Two?

Wednesday 29th January

This was my last trip this season to the Itchen, so here's a micro blog (by my standards, anyway) to record one or two highlights of the day.

I had the pleasure of fishing with Peter Anderson. His take on the day can be found here. Peter's party was gatecrashed by a big upstart rainbow, which took him 20 minutes to land and made a nuisance of itself.

Peter is spot on about the conditions. It wasn't an inviting day to be on the water, and late morning saw the easterly wind strengthen a little to make it even less so. However, this particular beat closes at the end of January and reopens at the start of the trout season - so we had to make the most of the situation.

We started fishing at around 10.00. Peter decided to try the bottom of the beat, whereas I decided on a spot just upstream of where his "bit" ended, to work my way along from there. This had been a very productive spot for me last Saturday and as conditions were similar - albeit the water was considerably clearer - I chose the same flies; Orange Tag on the point and something pink on the dropper.

Once again, I was off the mark very quickly. It's a pool I've previously passed by, as it's near to the car park, and I wonder if most people do the same as me - head for the tranquil part of the beat and not fish it.

The current was strong, with a lot of extra water being carried. It was very much a case of deja vu, a number of grayling came to hand, were released, and the next dead drift through the pool commenced. Another take, and a feeling of something more substantial attached to the end of my line. Before long, the fish was visible and I could see that I did indeed have a very respectable-sized grayling attached to my Orange Tag.

It wasn't a long or arduous fight. I was helped by the fact I was fishing a 10ft 4wt rod with perhaps a little more "stopping power" than my Streamflex Plus 3wt, and the fish was soon in the net.

...and it's quite a large net....

With it safely in the bag, I took a moment to admire this chunky, handsome grayling. Out with the camera and a couple of shots for what would be a shortish blog entry, an addendum to my most recent ramblings.

I need to look up the measurements, but the Snowbee 3 in 1 is quite sizable.  It certainly gives the fishies plenty of room to rest in the water, and recover!

The picture below brings this to life a little more. I look at this now and realise that I didn't quite register fully the size of this lump. No scales unfortunately so just an estimate that this is a 2lb fish. Peter agreed with me when I showed him this photo on my camera screen, and he should know!

...a lump of a Grayling, and no mistake...

What more is there to say about the day? Well, I had a little fun experimenting with a downstream presentation and caught some fish that way. It was possible to sight fish a couple more, and I watched some trout spawning in the shallows.

A break of three weeks awaits me now. It will be mid February before I have the opportunity to fish next, and that will be on the Test at Timsbury. We could really do with some dry weather before then, but we'll have to wait and see!

PS: The Snowbee 3 in 1 is 16 x 20 inches, or 40 x 50 cms in new money!

Another Orange Tag Saturday

So, two weeks to the day after Nicholas Steedman's Orange Tag Heroics, yesterday I found myself once more heading through the New Forest towards the M27. This - via Rownham Services for coffee and a breakfast bap - would take me to the M3 and then up beyond Winchester, to Hampshire's fabulous River Itchen.

At the time of my previous visit with Nicholas, the river was higher than I'd ever seen it before and a little coloured. The intervening period had seen more wet weather, but the river was lower and the water clearer than two weekends ago. Since the middle of December an absolutely biblical amount of rain has fallen in Hampshire; I reflected that I'd been blessed with dry, clement weather on my fishing days during this period.

The river was still much, much higher than normal with a significant amount of extra water being carried and a very strong flow. Wading would be a challenge in these conditions, and I sensed I'd need to get the flies right down to where the fish would be, tight on the bottom, making the most of their intelligent design and conserving energy.

I opted for a longer tippet than I would normally use, and my point fly would be an Orange Tag without doubt. I considered what to tie on the dropper and remembered a post I'd read recently on the forum about flies for high, coloured water. I had a shrimp pattern very similar to the Dirty Pink, so on it went.

Since my last outing, I'd been giving some serious thought to the indicator/ sighter I was going to fish with. I'd sourced a couple of French Leaders from Dave Downie, and had been very impressed with them for a number of reasons. I had one of Dave's clear leaders sitting in the draw as a spare, so I'd carefully removed the sighter from this and attached it to the end of a Hends Camou that I would be fishing with today. This would prove to work very well, giving me greater flexibility to change depth without adding or removing tippet. Less fannying about and more time fishing!

Like Nicholas on our previous outing, I was up and running very quickly, the Orange Tag once again doing the business. I was also delighted when one grayling decided to opt for my dropper fly, as that seemed to vindicate my fly selection. I started off determined to keep count, but as usual once I was into double figures my mind wandered and I thought "Oh well, who cares!"

Big enough for the scoop net!

Some of the initial dozen or so were good fish and needed the net. The one above was a particular handful, although by the time we met I'd thoroughly "quality assured" all my knots so wasn't overly concerned.

I was struggling to make much progress up the beat, as every few steps the clear water would reveal yet more grayling and it would have been bad form not to have a cast or two.

What a nice scoop net! Brodin?

In the end I got a grip and willed myself upstream, ignoring the fish until I came to the first of two places on this beat that I especially like to fish.

A Vision!

This proved hard work, but I was able to persuade some grayling to come out and play. This was where I'd been fishing when Duncan landed his monster, and it had provided some excellent sport then, Today was not quite so prolific, and I decided to move on to try my other favourite.

Recognise this?

Don't tell anybody, but one look at this flow and I reached for the split shot. I popped a single No. 1 about six inches from the point fly and got cracking. A couple of small grayling on the point fly were followed by an upstart escapee rainbow that took a shine to my Dirty Pink.

Then...next cast into the drift through the hatch pool. I detected a slight hesitation and lifted the rod tip. Strange...is this the bottom? Hang on, no - a couple of wobbles and a sensation of something solid but not quite stationary - not the bottom but a fish that was staying tight to the bottom. But definitely not the bottom. I lifted the rod tip and applied a tad more pressure, to try and provoke this fish into action, and grudgingly it started to respond. By now, I realised I had something quite substantial attached and was once more quietly confident that my knots would hold, but in such a strong flow this could be a challenge.

Shortly thereafter, I caught a glimpse of the fish itself and realised that this was a very respectable-sized (male) grayling indeed. I was very calm, and thankful for the use of my Snowbee 3 in 1 net, with the long handle deployed and a generously-sized  frame and bag. In he went, without incident or much further ado.

Caught!

This was the cue for feelings of relief, as the last couple of fish I'd hooked into of this calibre I  hadn't managed to land. It was also another opportunity to use my Panasonic Lumix FT5. I was pleasantly surprised by how easy it was to operate this camera one-handed. Once again, I was also to be delighted by the quality of the pictures it produced.

Being released

I don't carry scales so couldn't weigh it, but this was a handsome, long and muscular fish. It hadn't been a long or arduous fight and so a quick recovery and release saw him kindly holding station a couple of feet from me. This was an opportunity to try my very first underwear underwater shot.

Swimming away - happy!

By this time it was early afternoon and I would not be "having a late one" so began making my way back to the car. I did have time, though, to bother a few more of the local inhabitants, many of whom were pleased to see my Orange Tag dead-drifted past them.

Another decent fish

I'd had a really good, hugely enjoyable day and was playing the fish immediately above (which had also needed persuading to budge from the bottom) when my phone rang. Thanks to the wonders of Bluetooth earpieces I was able to do two things at once - talk to one delightful lady whilst welcoming another into my Snowbee 3-in-1.

Away she goes - the water cleared as my day wore on

As I packed away, I was left reflecting on a very successful day's fishing. As explained, I'd adopted a different sighter/ indicator with my French Leader, and was better able to alter the depth at which my flies were fishing quite dynamically throughout the day. I guess that - instead of using shot - I could have tied on a heavier fly, but who's to say that my presentation would have been better/ more effective?

Last fish of the day!

I was glad I packed up when I did as shortly thereafter a squall of some force swept strong winds and heavy rain through this part of Hampshire. As I finish this entry, today has brought some particularly mucky weather with it. Time to put another log on the woodburner and reach for some Tom McQuane....

Orange Tag Saturday

After all the stormy, wet weather for the last three weeks, it was with some trepidation that I headed last Saturday morning to the River Itchen. On the one hand, I was confident that good fishing could be had, but there would be - as Cilla Black might say - "a lorra lorra" water to contend with.

I would be fishing with Nicholas Steedman, with whom I'd enjoyed two sessions on the Itchen and one on the Test towards the end of the 2012-3 season. We had been due to fish together the Saturday before Christmas, but the weather had intervened and we agreed to postpone. This was the rearranged fixture.

I arrived slightly before Nicholas, and he found me on the bridge gazing into the water when he pulled up not two minutes later. We chatted about the conditions and I gave Nicholas an update on how the fishing had been recently on this beat. We also fell into conversation about the last time we had fished together, in the  2012-13 season, on a tough but nonetheless enjoyable visit to the Test at Timsbury. This lead onto the topic of my return to the same venue a couple of weeks later, where I'd been fortunate to meet with some welcome success. We spent a few minutes talking about this, and I sensed that Nicholas was keen to know what I'd done differently, albeit the weather and water conditions had been the same.

The river was higher than I'd previously seen it, and a considerable flow of water was steaming through the beat at a rate of knots. Deeper, faster water than previously encountered, but still with some welcome clarity. As the forecast was for a dry day, I assured Nicholas that - on past experience - the conditions would improve significantly as the day wore on.

As well as the prospect of a day's fishing, I was looking forward to using my new camera, a Panasonic Lumix FT5, for the first time. This is the newest model of what is a well-reviewed waterproof/ shockproof camera, with a good reputation for ease of use and producing quality pictures. A slip of the tongue at Christmas meant I had described it to my sister-in-law (much to our joint amusement) as a camera I could use for "underwear shots" when what I meant to say was "underwater".......anyway, see what you think of the pictures!

A lovely morning after so many recent vile ones

Nicholas was keen to get started, so we tackled up and he kicked off whilst I finished gathering my thoughts and equipment ready to move up the beat. I didn't have long to wait before he presented me with an opportunity to see how the new camera would handle action shots.

Not hanging about.....

 On his third or fourth cast, this happened...

Showing off, now....but I got to try my zoom...

After this, we moved up the beat to the hatch pool. Nicholas was fishing an Orange Tag on the point with a smaller, pink bug on the dropper.

Orange Tag does the trick!

We took it in turns to fish through the hatch pool. I was using a heavy, pink, tungsten-beaded bug on the point and a Tups Wool Bug on the dropper. Not a sniff, even after lengthening my tippet to allow for the deeper than usual water. Whereas Nicholas did brisk business with his Orange Tag....the above was his best fish in this part of the day. Contrast this with a picture of Peter Anderson in the same place on my previous visit - quite a difference in water level (not to mention age/ height/ looks etc. of the flyfisher...)

Quite a contrast!

As the day wore on, the Orange Tag continued to get results. Combined with the approach of induced takes, it was - at times - deadly. I gave into the inevitable, and changed my point fly to an Orange Tag. It wasn't quite the exact same pattern as Nicholas' - but it was the closest I had.

Lunchtime came. A flask of very hot soup, some of my wife's excellent and truly delicious Christmas Cake and a couple of restorative Whisky Macs were consumed. Whilst eating and chatting, we noticed rising fish and discussed the possibility of a hatch being under way. This development gave us the impetus to finish eating and start fishing again.

Nicholas continued on his prolific way, albeit he remarked later that the period immediately following lunch saw most business being done on the dropper- rather than the point fly. Downstream presentations were employed, with the hard-to-detect subtle takes coming as the flies began to swing up the water column.

For me, the change in flies and a lengthier tippet started to bring results. At one point mid-afternoon I connected with a very good grayling. This presented quite a challenge - what I estimated as a two-pounder in water this high with a much stronger-than-usual flow was proving difficult to subdue. I lowered the rod tip to apply side-strain, with the fish downstream of me. I realised I would have to wade towards it and reel in, and was just about to do so when everything went slack. Schoolboy error time. Damn!

The flow really was considerable. Earlier in the afternoon, at one point I'd really had to brace myself as a brief, sudden and unexpected surge of some sort hit me - it took an effort to stay upright. At other times, it really was hard work to wade upstream - even short distances.

Time passed, and the day was drawing to a close. I was walking back from the top of the beat thinking about packing up when I decided to have one last "chalkstream paddle" for the day. This was just upstream of four trees on my side of the river. Before slipping into the water I thought I'd just have a cast or two, to see whether there was anything where I'd be wading - and I was in, first cast, to a good fish.

A surprise?

I soon found myself with a feisty grayling attached some way downstream of me, with the strong flow of all the extra water meaning it was difficult to progress to a coming together. I realised - once again - that I would need to go to the fish. Ah - hang on. Problem - trees in the way. How was I going to get round this first, substantial trunk? It was too broad for me to pass the rod around and very little in the way of bank "riverside" of it.....Solution - a bit of tree hugging and careful stepping around with the river to my back, trying to remember if I'd brought a change of clothes with me just in case.

Nice dorsal!

Anyhow, I managed to get downstream of the first tree having reeled tight and kept reeling as I walked down and netted the fish. A couple of pictures, a quick release and my last cast of the day had been the most entertaining and productive. This was the best fish of the day for me, and I was delighted to have a couple of nice shots in the can. I can't blame the camera any longer - it's all about the composition.

I suppose the main takeaway from the day for me was - once again - that methods and tactics need to fit the conditions. I'd begun fishing with a shorter-than-normal tippet but that meant my flies weren't deep enough. That was easily cured, and then it was a case of the "right" fly for the day. For some reason, the Orange Tag was far more successful than other patterns to begin with, then with a hatch was in progress the fish were taking higher in the water column. I really enjoy fishing with anglers more proficient and experienced than myself, as it often makes for educational and thought-provoking days. This was certainly the case last Saturday, and I'm looking forward to a return trip in the next couple of weeks. Determined to be more dynamic and adapt to the conditions on the day......

In the Nick of Time!

It's been - once again - a while since my previous blog entry. The trout season ended in October, although I was able to fit in a couple more visits to the Dorset Piddle before it did so. My fellow syndicate members and I carried out some work aimed at improving the trout spawning habitat after season's end, trying to follow the advice/ guidance given by The Wild Trout Trust, although I think we may need to invite them back for a further advisory visit to see if we're on the right lines or not.

I have been fishing for grayling on a number of occasions, but not taken the time to write about these experiences. One reason was the lack of a camera that could provide decent, fit-for-purpose images with which to help maintain the reader's interest. Let's face it, we all like to see pictures of nice fish and the surroundings/ settings of their capture. This also helps us visualise the weather and water conditions on the day in question.

Looking back, as someone who's fortunate to fish twice a month because of family and other commitments, I suppose I haven't done too badly with still a couple more months to go before the grayling are out of season once more. I am very much looking forward to the start of the trout season and what will be my first, full six months on the Dorset Piddle with the small syndicate I joined last Summer.

Back to the grayling, then. I've been fortunate to fish a number of times with Peter Anderson, whose Walks and Fishes blog is always well worth reading. It's longevity is admirable and puts many of us other bloggers to shame. The walks are just as interesting as the fishing exploits. Peter has been kind enough to introduce me to some new beats, and generous with his help, advice and guidance for some time now. It was satisfying to be able to repay some of this by arranging some fishing which he really - I think, anyway - enjoyed as something of a "thank you".

I also had the opportunity to fish once more with Duncan, in early December, and this turned out to be something of a special day for both of us. For Duncan, it was the capture of a "personal best" grayling, whilst for me it was the circumstances surrounding its capture. It was a shame that I didn't possess a better camera, but with a bit of cropping and applying of special effects I think I have a couple of images to illustrate the story.

So, back to early December. A cool, misty start to what turned out to be a slightly chilly and overcast day. It certainly merited hip flasks - premium-quality sloe gin in Duncan's and Whisky Mac in mine. Both ideal, from the point of view that a nip of something warming is welcome on such a day.

It seems strange to write this now, but we were then in the middle of a dry spell and the water level was on the low side but clarity was good. We'd had a good morning, and in the afternoon I'd decided to fish a part of the beat which I hadn't previously tried. In the space of an hour, I'd lost count of the number of grayling I'd caught - one or two good ones amongst them - and was enjoying myself immensely. Time was getting on, and I'd just hooked a further fish of half a pound or so when I heard a cry from just downstream of me. I quickly released my fish and went to see what was occurring.

A nice fish about to go back

A super-excited Duncan was what was occurring, with a very significant and chunky grayling in the net. Now, neither of us had scales so we couldn't weigh this handsome fish but I was prepared to accept this as a two pounder. For me, anyway, circumstances of the capture are of more interest than size, or for that matter numbers caught. There were certainly some unusual and interesting circumstances surrounding the capture of this notable fish. As I was in waders, I did the reviving and releasing honours - a very broad-shouldered and muscular fish in superb condition, which felt wonderful to support and bid a fond farewell.

Beautiful, shame about the picture quality!

Duncan had spotted this fish about 30 feet downstream. He's somewhat unconventional at times, and was using a 9ft 5wt that I'd loaned him for the day. It's the next fact that will beggar most grayling fisher's belief, in that this fish took a size 12 Blue Flash Damsel, presented downstream "on the swing". Duncan told me the fish had a few goes at the fly before it finally took on the next cast.

An artistic perspective on a handsome fish

So this is the first Chalkstream grayling that I've ever heard of caught using Streamer tactics.....food for thought, although I guess with most beat rules stipulating upstream nymph only this isn't one for the purists!

Following this trip out, weather and Christmas came along, followed by yet more weather. A New Year's expedition with Peter Anderson on 2nd January sustained me until yesterday, when I had a very enjoyable day's fishing with Nicholas Steedman. Oh, and in the meantime I guess I must have been very good in 2013 after all, as Father Christmas gave me a new camera.....