I don’t know about where you are, obviously, but here it has been unseasonably windy of late. Quite often at this time of year you get a bit of a breeze in the evening that drops as the sun sets. This last week it has been very windy all day and little sign of it abating. On the whole it has still been a reasonably comfortable temperature. I was out my daily lunchtime walk yesterday and was noticing that it was much less windy that it has been though and decided ( what with work commitments apparently accumulating ahead of me), that if I was going to get out for a few hours on the river it had to be tonight ( Wednesday). By the time tea time rolled around though that wind was back.
Making a Move
Hang it, I would go anyway. I took a drive along to the Tait’s Tomb area of the River Devon and supposing I never cast a line, I would reacquaint myself with a section of the Devon I probably haven’t fished in at least five years and frankly couldn’t remember much about, though I probably fished here more than anywhere on the river. I don’t think I was fishing French Leaders in those days either, so a chance to try a newer method.
The water was pretty clear, and while certainly not on its bones wasn’t particularly high. If you had arrived with no knowledge of the local geography and looked at it though, you would have sworn it was flowing towards what was the upstream direction. The wind was pretty strong and borderline fishable. I tackled up anyway and decided to make my way downstream as it was the direction I know less well ( if you could say I know any of it “well”).
The Leaper
Fishing a few wee runs with a small Frenchie on point and an olive spider on the dropper I thought at my first chosen spot I would catch something as it was a place I used to get a few small Browns, but no. Was it the wind affecting the presentation? Were there no fish here. Well, actually I knew there was at least one, because as I fished it leapt from the stream right under my rod. Not huge but it didn’t half give me a fright! I wondered if the fish got a fright on seeing me there!
I was doing all I could to stay well back from the river as I moved, with the sun lowering in the sky, it was casting long shadows right over the water so it was a case of either staying well back or stooping as much as was practical to not warn fish of your approach. Finding a deep pocket I ended up on my knees trying to fish it from midstream where it was shallower.
Still Cold
I will tell you one thing, the water isn’t especially warm for the time of year, there was a distinct chill to it. You could not argue that warm water and low oxygen were factors in the less than encouraging show of fish activity ( ie practically none).
The Devon is a river with some high cutaway banks and deeper channels under the overhang and I made real efforts to fish these areas but never had so much as a touch. I was also having to zig-zag back and forth over the water to get to the next fish-able pocket so there was quite a lot of walking, doubling back and crossing, making my way around obstacles and through waist-high grass.
Hayfever
None of this did my Hayfever any favours and at one point having made a stealthy approach and going to cast, I burst into a huge fit of uncontrollable sneezing. Did the fish notice? Well, put it like this, none took my flies.
The river is teeming with fly life and when eventually a few fish started to show after the sun dropped behind the Ochils, the wind seemed to change direction, maybe a little less strong. It was impossible to see what these risers were taking. My rod was festooned with Caenis duns moulting into Spinners, and there was everything from Sedges, big and small, to Olives and the odd late Mayfly even on the water. The fish that did show though tended to rise once then that was it.
Looking for Targets
I stood my ground patiently waiting on a few rise-forms in this area or that, following one rise and it never came. By now I had abandoned the heavy nymph on my French Leader and had replaced my flies with a single CDC wet fly. Dead drifting this up and across wasn’t scoring any fish and when I saw a fish actually rise below me three times in a row I decided to cast downstream and let the CDC spider drift to the fish then let it swing round. This finally got the attention it deserved and one modest wee Brown was finally hooked.
I could have persevered but actually was by now quite cold and was not encouraged by the rises I did see, which I think were mostly small fish, but I had explored further downstream than I think I ever did previously and will need to return later in the season, probably in daytime.
