A March afternoon on the Manifold

I was going stir crazy in the office and for the second day running it was a cracking, very early spring day, dry with a warm coloured low sun, but still with a chill in the air. It had rained quite a bit three days ago so I was keen to see what the local river was like.
 After tackling up I went for a walk down to my favorite spot, the pool bend downstream of the bridge by the Manifold Inn. The winter floods had made their mark. A huge silt bank had been deposited on the outside of the bend and new shingle shallows had formed in various places, potentially, very trout friendly!

 The river was at a lovely level and running, for the Manifold, a moorland river, very clear.
It was a warm looking late afternoon sun, but the air still had a winter chill in it and my inexperience of tying on size 18 flies with cold fingers and bi-focal lenses showed.
I spent a delightful few hours exploring the new looking beat, enjoying the early spring sun and learning the feel of my new 'cheap as chips' Wychwood Truefly 8' #3/4, I love it! What more could you ask for? Just a shame that the Inn was not open.
I don't care that I didn't connect with a Greyling, it was just nice to be out  and by running water.

Love the streams,
March Brown

First pass out for 2011!

Following a mad domestic and work period, I had to have a quiet day with nothing else to focus on and somewhere with no distractions or opportunities for interruptions.

The domestic situation was created by a combination of issues, one being the work on the recently acquired cottage/former cow shed and dairy next door, and the other half, Mel, having two massive consultancy jobs to complete and deadlines rapidly looming.

My work pressure was setting-up and delivering a three day induction residential programme for Nottingham Business School with 30 International Masters students. These programmes take over my life when they are on, a week to prep and three days to deliver. When they finish I start sleeping properly again! Don’t get me wrong, I am not complaining as the programmes, staff on the job and clients make them great fun to be part of and a privilege to work with.

So, a phone call to Al and arrangements were made to meet in Hartington for 9.30 am. I was a few minutes late as I had to sort out a boob we had made with the electrician. Arriving in Hartington I found Al’s Bongo parked outside the ‘Olde Cheesy Shopee’. I found him inside buying some special beers and a bottle of Mead. I felt it was a little early for a drink so I went to the local village store for some lunch time sustenance.

Our plan was to try the Dove at Bank Top, beat 2 on the Peak Passport scheme, and see if we could find us some Greyling. We are both Greyling virgins so it could be interesting.

Derbyshire and the Staffordshire Moorlands had been very wet three days ago and the evidence was all over the banks. The river still looked high though a lot lower than it had been! It was still coloured and visibility was only around 2 feet if you could spot the shingle beds.

We both went upstream of the farm, working our way up to the northern extent of the beat. We fished what we thought were the fishiest bits, the most promising looking area, to me, was the ford a few hundred metres up valley from the farm.

Al spotted an eel, all of three inches, and that was the only fishy thing we saw all day, but we had a lovely first visit to Bank Top on this very mild and slightly overcast day. He also spotted some tracks in the recent silt deposits. We were not sure if they were Otter or Mink. Unfortunately, I suspect that they were the latter.

Perhaps the Dove was just a little too high, maybe we were looking in the wrong places, possibly we were using the wrong tactics – we had plenty of reasons for a re-visit soon. I was using a duo of Czech nymph and GRHE (Gold ribbed Hares ear).

We walked back up the little lane to the vans, replaced the wooden spoons in the pot and submitted our catch (or not) returns.

Hopefully, we will be back in a few days time when the river has dropped a little more and the water has cleared.

Love the streams,

March Brown.

The bloggers confession

Forgive me dear readers for I have sinned. I have not blogged for a few months, neither have I fished. Well that is a small fib in itself.
September 2010 saw an EFFC match at Foremark I boated up with best mate and angling mentor Al Wilson. Al has fished from a boat before but all he could tell me was how he hooked up his boat partner and then took him to A&E! I have not fished from a boat before, but I have been to A&E! (not to have a hook removed).
The match had been arranged by Ian Gould of EFFC and he was partnering David Fowler who, aledgedly, had already got his name on the trophy.
It was a bright day with a light breeze off the pontoons. The day started with the obligatory bacon buttie, tackling up and then finding out how to start the engine. After five minutes we read the label on the motor, got it going and we were off past Flamingo Bay fished about 50 yards off Hut Point. After about an hour of nothing, Ian and Dave came past with smug grins on their faces having bagged up with their six fish! To cut to the chase, Dave ended up with eighteen, but that did not get him the best bag of the day.
After another hour enjoying the bright day, Al had landed one, by accident, and I was still heading for a blank. Al's 'accidental' fish was caught while he was demonstrating an odd method he had witnessed before, which was a very fast 'hand over hand' strip. 'Just like that' he said, and then found one on the end of his line!  We moved around towards Bramble Bay, which was very still. Time for lunch and a change of tactics. Since publishing the next picture, I have been accused of using bate to catch my fish. I would like to take this opportunity to emphatically deny the accusation of baiting with a 1 1/2 pound pork pie. I ate every crumb! I did, however at this point, break my duck and landed my first fish with a Red tag. The afternoon continued well for Al, catching three fish. I enjoyed my first boat angling experience with buzzards high above the Gorse Bay area and a strengthening breeze.
We returned to the fishery to weigh in and listen to the banter. Ian was re-calculating the weights, three times. But it didn't matter how he looked at the numbers, he was still only 2nd, but for a few ounces. He was seen praying at the end of the third count.
Domestic life and work took over after this match, a very busy two weeks with Nottingham Business School and the purchase of the cottage next door put an end to the fishing season. The last social / match was the 'Biggest Fish' on the 27th November. Many soles managed to get to Errwood, but I couldn't even get into Ipstones from our lane, so that was it for 2010.

My target for 2011? My first greyling and some winter brook & stream fishing on the Peak Passport, renew my Errwood membership because I have still so much to learn about reservior fishing, its a great part of the Peak, and the club is very welcoming - Thanks guys.

Al, aka Mr Doodoo

With a little bit of luck, my name may get to the top of the list for LADFA and then it will be the Dove, Churnet and Bentley Brook.

Love the streams,


March Brown

An Elusive trout!

I now have a battle with one elusive trout. It is not because its a monster or specimen fish, it is because it has escaped four times over two sessions. It is taking the biscuit!
I had to visit a B&B and a holiday cottage in Longnor to pay for some future use and could not pass over Windy Arbour Bridge without having a quick dibble.
This is the beat on the Peak Passport scheme that I lost my wild brown trout virginity on a few months back.
That was the first time I failed to connect with this particular trout in this particular pool to an olive Klink.

Today, the water was reasonably clear but lower than before with a slight upstream breeze aiding the cast. I had already got the rod set-up from the day before and had a BWO on the end of my short tippet. I had no reason not to give it a go so I entered the upper moorland Manifold a good 15 yards down stream and worked my way up the far bank and got into position behind a very convenient Alder. This left me with a good view and a reasonably easy cast around the tree. The trout was there and had already risen a few times as I got myself ready for battle. I was all set-up with the leader and tippet degreased. I knew I would only get a few goes at this. First cast - bingo! The BWO got hit the moment it made contact with the surface layer. But my elation lasted all of a  nano second. My pulse was racing and the blood pressure was up! I made a few quick false casts to dry the fly and dropped it in again on the same spot. A few moments later the fly got hit again and the trout got missed again. In my heart I knew that the trout was probably now wise to me and it was pointless to carry on trying, but I did for few minutes with obvious results.
I decided to leave it be for a while and went down stream to the place where I cought the bug and my first wild brownie. There were no rises here but it was a good distraction for half an hour, though I did lose the BWO on a back cast so put a Black Gnat on.

I walked back up to the bridge and slipped into the babbling brook to see if things had settled down. Sure enough, in exactly the same feeding lane, it was rising to food coming over the ledge. I took my time and watched several more sets of rings being pushed out by this busy little trout. That was it, time was pressing so I dropped a roll cast in right on the spot and just like last time, as soon as the gnat landed it was viciously attacked but not swallowed. I could see a pattern emerging here. I quickly dried the fly and put it in again, but this time it didnt accept the second offering, so the battle lines are now drawn.

I am sure that this fiesty little thing is no more than 6" but it is the principal that counts. It is winning. I know that this is sport but I will win! Until next time little friend..........

Love the streams,

March Brown

Hulme End magic

It's Saturday 4th September and a long time since I have been fishing.  A week in South Wales in early August lead to no fishing - even tho I had permission and tackle. The fisheries were in such a poor state due to lack of water and a high water temperature, that they kindly advised me not to bother and the local rivers were all but bone dry. This was followed by a week of office work to allow us all to have two weeks in Catalonia in the Ebro Valley, renowned for its enormous catfish. They are so damned ugly, they just didn't have the pull that a beautiful little wild brownie has. Another week in the office, chores around the estate and purchase of next door on our return and finally, I find the time to justify an escape plan.

The kids were driving us loopy, so we decided to separate them for a while. At 7, I thought  it about time that Leo went with his Dad on a fishing adventure. I felt I had just about acquired enough skill in my first season to make this a positive experience for him, so off to one of the nearest beats in the Peak Passport scheme, Hulme End. To stay within the rules of the scheme we shared a rod. Leo looked dead Cool in his Power Rangers shades and surf dude cap, but, as always on these photo opportunity situations, you leave the camera in the boot of the car 200 yards away!

He did actually grasp the concept and shoot some line on a few occasions which was great to watch. What was more exciting for him was the fact that there were fish making  head, dorsal and tail fin rises and a few splashy snatches at something on the surface all around us in the big pool on the downstream section. Six dry fly changes later and we still were no closer to discovering what the wanted to see.

The session had to come to an end all too soon as we were already going to be late back for lunch, and I would be in enough trouble for both of us. It was another blank but Leo had a great first experience.

Later that afternoon, I was still being bugged by the fact that we had not connected with anything even tho we knew that there were at least three fish, one of around 10-12" which I saw rise twice in the same spot.

I have learnt so much from reading Glen Pointon's fab blog, the most fundamental lesson is to be proactive about your fishing, cast only to fish, not to a mass of water in the hope of finding fish. If this means not casting and sitting and watching for while, the outcome should be far more favourable, and it is remarkably enjoyable and relaxing!

I knew where the fish were, I just wasn't offering what they wanted, so I went back for a late afternoon / evening session , this time, on my own but remembering the camera!

Back to the pool and I sat and watched for a while. There was less activity for certain, but what activity there was, was still in the same areas of the pool. A small trout making splashy risings to the left under the bushes and an overhanging Alder, a larger trout in the middle porpoising and another smaller one making occasion snatches to my right just above the riffle.

A 10" Manifold cracker!

The most actively feeding trout was the noisy one to my left so I targeted that one with a sideways cast to get under the tree. Second cast, and it took the black Klink!  This little Manifold beauty had striking markings and a strong fully formed tail fin which powered the little torpedo around the pool until it came to my hand a few moments later.

Having remembered the camera this time, I grabbed this quick shot, just in time before the thing shut down, the camera that is. So, I remembered the camera, but failed to check the battery power!

The Klink came out alarmingly easily, I held the trout in the water facing upstream for a while till it recovered and I watched it swim of back to the depths of the pool and shade of the Alder.

It was now just past 6.30 pm and things were going quiet so I stopped casting. I sat down for a good half hour and watched. Not much was happening other than the fly life had gone 'pale'. So, the black Klink went back in the box and the only thing I had that was truly pale was a Blue Winged Olive. Things were still very quiet, but the little tout to my right that was above the riffle had risen a few more times so I went for that one to see what sport she could offer. Third or fourth cast over the area she was rising got a hard reaction, sadly, mine did not match in speed and my fly went zinging into the tufted grass behind me as I missed the take.

That was it. The pool had gone quiet, I had spooked  the fish  hence my last chance to catch and I could not see the line any more so time to call it a day and a very satisfying one it was. A magic 10" Manifold wild brown trout and a PB for me.

Love the streams,

March Brown.

Mixed Emotions

I had a bad start in the office today so needed some therapy. Dropping off some kit in Buxton to one of the instructors was a good enough excuse. Errwood was only five minutes up the road from his house so there I found myself.
Remember the 'note to self' about the camera, well I forgot the camera and this was clearly the day I was going to catch a monster. Dropping into the Goyt Valley, bad omen no. 2 struck, I had only got my 6'6" #3 in the back of the van and it was windy. So I had got light weight stream kit to use on a windy day on a reservoir - GREAT!

Frustration turned to acceptance of the challenge as I kitted up with an olive nymph on the point and a Bibio on the dropper. Light line, novice angler, wind and two flies equals tangles! Things were not looking good.
   
I was fishing around Gilman Point. Now that the water level has dropped so much, it has created a sheltered bay which I thought would offer me the best protection from the wind. I did one circumnavigation of the bay working towards the dam head with no action. I got fed up with the tangles and the fact that I could only manage a 10 metre cast at best and felt a change of tactics was in order. Off with the pair and on with a gold head Montana. Action second cast! A cracking 2 1/2 pounder.

Things were looking a lot brighter. A few more casts and another hit. I had found the fish! However, this one felt a lot lighter but very fast. As it came to the surface she revieled herself as a natural Errwood wild brownie. She came to my hand easily enough but it was clear that she was not going to go back in sadly. What posesses little fish like that to try to swallow something that to them would be the equivelent of weeks worth of food in one gulp? The hook was so deep in the only decent thing was to despatch her cleanly and quickly. But what a beautiful fish! She had bright redish pink spots and red flashes to the end of her fins. She was a real looker! I spent some time studying the wonderful markings, but also feeling just a little guilty that she was not going back in. I chose to take her home to show Leo, my 7 year old as this would have been the first brownie he had seen, so in the bag with the rainbow. From this little misfortune could be gained a valuable educational experience!

I started to move back towards the point casting into the middle of the little cove when I had the next big hit. This was definatelty a rainbow. She fought for a short while then slipped easily into the net. She weighed in at 2.2 lbs. So, was this really my third fish? Was this my bag limit? Hmm, a debatable point as the brownie would have gone back all being well. So, I decided to carry on and wow, am I sort of glad I did. Less than ten casts later - the biggest hit of them all and I really thought that this was not going to happen. I was expecting my light tackle to snap at any moment. I am a novice and also slightly prone to exageration, so I will just say that this fish was bigger than the first and boy, did it fight. Two leaps into the air, then diving for the bottom, going left, then going right. Not believing my luck that the trout was still on the line I reached for the net and brought the trout to meet the net. Head in then WHAT? I thought the line had finally gone, but no, the crafty trout hat spat out the fly. Bummer!

Time to pack up and go home........till next time.

Love the streams,

March Brown

Marsh House

I managed a few hours at Marsh House, beat 9 on the Peak Passport scheme today. Three tokens so it must be good! I had a bad start as I left the camera behind. Note to self - don't leave in such a rush!

It was overcast with the very occasional light drizzle. I overshot the parking area and ended up going over the very pretty bridge at Brund Mill. A quick check of the map and I was soon in the DCAC paddock by the Manifold.
My first attempt to access the river resulted in some vicious stinging nettles winning the battle so I ventured further up stream for a more friendly approach.
The banks were steeper, well, near vertical in places, which as an angler, I had not experienced before, but as a paddler, I new that this river certainly takes some water on occasions. The river, judging by the bank debris was running very low with a slight peaty colouring from the recent shower in the morning. I had set-up with an olive klink as this is what had brought me success at Windy Arbour. The only difference today was that I was using a tippet on a tapered leader, where as before, I have been going straight onto the tapered leader.
I wandered up stream, casting at likely pools and food lanes but at nothing in particular. There were a few rises happening but not to my fly. I was having to climb in and out of the river as some of the slower stretches were to deep for my wellies. The one advantage this did give me was to study the water from the high banks. In one of the upper pools, 50 yards short of the upper stream beat limit I finally got a take. This was after changing fly to an LDO. I lost it, the fish, not the fly. Too slow again, and, to much slack line in the system I think. I stayed in that pool for a while till a few clumsy casts left me admitting that any self respecting trout would have gone into hiding.
I was left soaking up the atmosphere as a lazy woodpecker had an occasional hammer on a limb above me. I eventually climbed out over a fallen Willow, a victim of the winter floods by the look of things, and worked my way back around the edge of the field.

I will be back, with my camera and hopefully some pictures of wild brown trout.
Love the streams!
March Brown

Losing my fish!

I managed to grab my last few hours of pleasure today, before the dreaded 'W' word takes over for a few weeks (that's work by the way not wife). I was returning through Longnor on my way back from Castleton so ended up at Windy Arbour Bridge, beat 6 of the Peak Passport scheme on the Manifold. I thought I would explore the two pools immediately below the bridge. A bit of nettle bashing got me down to the stream to a point where I could cross in my wellies to the far bank. I set-up behind a tree enabling me to cast into the drop immediately after the ledge. I had already seen a rise as I approached so I knew that there was someone at home. I chose the same olive Klinkhammer that I had had previous success with. There was an almost instant take! Sadly, probably because I was so surprised, I missed it, and the next, but then, same wild brownie I doubt, gave my fly a great bash and swam straight towards me. In my attempt to keep the line tight I lifted my rode, fish jumped clear out of the water, spat out the fly, blew a raspberry at me and went home! I, we had caused so much commotion I didn't see the point is staying there so I went 50 yards further down stream.
I found this beautiful little pool which only required a little bit of tree climbing to get down to. My Klinks had got a bit grubby from a few tangles with weed and a few visits to trees so I changed to a LDO. I had not seen any movement in the pool but it was deep, airated and had some good fishy hiding places in undercut rocks and tree roots. Sadly, not a nibble, so I took five minutes out, sat on a dry bit of the ledge and just absorbed the sounds and smells of this stream. The natural sounds were broken by a cheery 'Good Morning' from a very well attired gentleman angler on his way lower down the beat. I didn't get his name but we chatted for a few moments then he was on his way to get some sport. I noticed later that he had a Ladfa sticker on his car.
I had no joy in this sweet pool so I climbed out and went back to the bridge pool in the hope that the little brownies may have settled down. I explored it all for 10 minutes before I had to accept defeat and go and pick up the kids from school.
Love the Streams,
March Brown.