Week 10
What a week for weather! From Monday morning to Wednesday night the wind did not stop blowing. Five more big trees down, a Big Balsam Poplar in the paddock that can wait for a while. An Ivy coloured Ash tree across the top of the mill stream, a Horse Chestnut in Solids – the bottom of the beat, and two huge Aspen across the river by my employer’s garden gate, two more of this lanky shallow rooted Aspen Aspen will have to come down because they are dangerous. The Fishermen will welcome the loss of part of the Horse Chestnut on Solids; it was a real flytrap on the back cast and afforded safety to many a Brown Trout. The Balsam Poplar will have no affect on the fishing although its strong scent in the spring when its buds are breaking will be missed. A very brittle tree, its wood is used to make matches. This Forty foot tree, had roots extending barely eighteen inches down into the peaty ground, with the water table not far from its base it pushed its roots out extensively just under the surface of the soil. I also had to deal with several other trees around the village, one across the school path, a dangerous limb on the recreation ground and an ivy covered hawthorn across the Bransbury road.
While all this mayhem was going on, I could safely work on a weir that I had to replace without fear of any trees falling on me. The bridge that I have had to replace had a weir underneath for the purpose of holding up the water above the bridge to improve the fishing. Weirs can have several effects on the stretch of river in which they are placed. The most obvious feature is the lovely weir pool that is created by the falling water, it screams fish, and the crashing water mixing with the air, helps raise the dissolved oxygen levels in the river. This can be particularly beneficial in periods of hot weather when the water temperature rises, and the water is unable to hold as much oxygen as cooler water; couple this with a period of intense low pressure such as a thunderstorm and the waters ability to hold oxygen is reduced even further.
The biggest change to a stretch of river with a newly installed weir is to the stretch of water upstream, the flow is slowed and as a result the river is more likely to start depositing silt, this can affect the weed growth and subsequently fly life and fishing.
The weir I am replacing has been built to slow a particular section of the beat up. Without the weir the river falls considerably over a short distance, is very fast flowing and shallow and holds few Trout. Holding the water up with a weir made of telegraph poles has raised the level by six inches and steadied the flow sufficiently for Trout to find it a suitable place to lie and feed. The water still flows quickly enough for Ranunculus to grow, and deposition of silt is minimal. If the weir were any higher, the flow would be slowed even further and deposition may start to immediately upstream of the weir, which would affect the Ranunculus.
The construction of the weir is not just a matter of chucking a heap of bricks across the riverbed and hoping for the best. Whenever you place an obstacle in the river the water will try to find a way around it or under it. I have used telegraph poles, placed horizontally against oak posts driven into the riverbed. These must be made level, to ensure an even flow of water over the whole weir. To prevent the water forcing its way under the weir, sheets of corrugated tin are driven by hand down into the river bed and attached to the horizontal telegraph pole, these have the added bonus of preventing the undercurrent of the weir pool eroding the weir from the downstream side. Rubble topped off with gravel is then placed on the upstream side of the weir, for this I am using broken up staddle stones that were in place from the previous weir, raking the gravel on the river bed over the top.
It may be a small-scale construction using materials I have to hand, but the principles behind the siting and construction are the same as much bigger hatches and weirs further down the river.
Tuesday, 18 March 2008
Wednesday, 12 March 2008
Week 9
Week 9
Finally got back to building the bridge, no more trees down, or new ones to plant, so it is back to the river. The bridge is to be a single span using the split telegraph poles as the runners, sitting on uprights made of straight telegraph poles driven into the river bed, all topped off with “steady oak” slats. First job is to drive the uprights into the ground, to carry this out I use the “mother of all bumpers” to bang the posts into the ground. The bumper weighs a ton and you know, when flopped in your chair in the evening, that you have had a day on the bumper! The telegraph poles are treated and last for ages in the ground. The fishing hut that was built fourteen years ago stands on telegraph pole stilts; it has a peg tile roof and must weigh several tonnes. The telegraph poles were cut into eight-foot lengths, and then banged into the ground until I hit the gravel, which happened to be seven feet down; it took the best part of two days to bang the four posts in by hand. The hut was then built on top of the stilts. I annually check the hut with a spirit level and it hasn’t moved an inch, once you get down on to the gravel you are guaranteed a firm base on which to build. Ten years ago while carrying out some work on part of the Mill House, Brian Parsons top river man, and the man to call for any major construction job on the river, pointed out to us that the oldest part of the house, which at one time was three storeys high, was built directly onto the gravel with no foundations; this part of the house is around four hundred years old, according to Brian it is not that uncommon for some of the older buildings in the river valley to have been built straight onto the gravel.
With this in mind I felt fairly confident about banging my telegraph poles down into the gravel to support my single span footbridge.
Once banged in, I use string across the river to determine that the bridge will be level, cutting into the uprights at the correct spot to provide a base for the main span.
I then drag the single span across the river by hand, and put in place on the uprights. I then use this to determine the level of the second span that sits alongside. The bridge is then topped off with steady oak slats and a handrail. The Grayling in the river are showing signs of thinking about spawning, the larger fish moving onto the shallows to dig a shallow redd. Grayling were introduced to the Test during the early part of the last century. The initial stocking of a small number of fish from the North of England, was made in the Stockbridge area. They soon spread throughout the river system, and up until ten years ago, were considered a pest. I can remember electro fishing on the middle Test and removing hundreds and hundreds of Grayling, along with Pike, Roach, Perch and anything else that was not a salmonid. The Pike would be taken alive to Broadlands Lake, a commercial coarse fishery. Some of the other coarse fish would be transferred to other lakes, while the Grayling were banged on the head. For several years a man would come down to Hampshire and take hundreds of Kilos of Grayling back to his Chinese Restaurant in the North. In the past ten years Grayling fishing has become a very popular sport. They provide good sport on a fly through the winter, when the trout are out of season, and we regularly have parties from the North of England and France and Belgium who come to fish for Grayling in the autumn. The Grayling season ending on March 16th, it is at this time of the year that you see the really big Grayling moving onto the shallows to spawn. A big Grayling for this stretch of river would be around two and a half pounds, although they go well over three pounds on the main river Test, the spawning process takes a heavy toll on these bigger Grayling and a high proportion of them die post spawning. Electro fishing to remove Grayling, now no longer takes place on this stretch of river.
Finally got back to building the bridge, no more trees down, or new ones to plant, so it is back to the river. The bridge is to be a single span using the split telegraph poles as the runners, sitting on uprights made of straight telegraph poles driven into the river bed, all topped off with “steady oak” slats. First job is to drive the uprights into the ground, to carry this out I use the “mother of all bumpers” to bang the posts into the ground. The bumper weighs a ton and you know, when flopped in your chair in the evening, that you have had a day on the bumper! The telegraph poles are treated and last for ages in the ground. The fishing hut that was built fourteen years ago stands on telegraph pole stilts; it has a peg tile roof and must weigh several tonnes. The telegraph poles were cut into eight-foot lengths, and then banged into the ground until I hit the gravel, which happened to be seven feet down; it took the best part of two days to bang the four posts in by hand. The hut was then built on top of the stilts. I annually check the hut with a spirit level and it hasn’t moved an inch, once you get down on to the gravel you are guaranteed a firm base on which to build. Ten years ago while carrying out some work on part of the Mill House, Brian Parsons top river man, and the man to call for any major construction job on the river, pointed out to us that the oldest part of the house, which at one time was three storeys high, was built directly onto the gravel with no foundations; this part of the house is around four hundred years old, according to Brian it is not that uncommon for some of the older buildings in the river valley to have been built straight onto the gravel.
With this in mind I felt fairly confident about banging my telegraph poles down into the gravel to support my single span footbridge.
Once banged in, I use string across the river to determine that the bridge will be level, cutting into the uprights at the correct spot to provide a base for the main span.
I then drag the single span across the river by hand, and put in place on the uprights. I then use this to determine the level of the second span that sits alongside. The bridge is then topped off with steady oak slats and a handrail. The Grayling in the river are showing signs of thinking about spawning, the larger fish moving onto the shallows to dig a shallow redd. Grayling were introduced to the Test during the early part of the last century. The initial stocking of a small number of fish from the North of England, was made in the Stockbridge area. They soon spread throughout the river system, and up until ten years ago, were considered a pest. I can remember electro fishing on the middle Test and removing hundreds and hundreds of Grayling, along with Pike, Roach, Perch and anything else that was not a salmonid. The Pike would be taken alive to Broadlands Lake, a commercial coarse fishery. Some of the other coarse fish would be transferred to other lakes, while the Grayling were banged on the head. For several years a man would come down to Hampshire and take hundreds of Kilos of Grayling back to his Chinese Restaurant in the North. In the past ten years Grayling fishing has become a very popular sport. They provide good sport on a fly through the winter, when the trout are out of season, and we regularly have parties from the North of England and France and Belgium who come to fish for Grayling in the autumn. The Grayling season ending on March 16th, it is at this time of the year that you see the really big Grayling moving onto the shallows to spawn. A big Grayling for this stretch of river would be around two and a half pounds, although they go well over three pounds on the main river Test, the spawning process takes a heavy toll on these bigger Grayling and a high proportion of them die post spawning. Electro fishing to remove Grayling, now no longer takes place on this stretch of river.
Monday, 3 March 2008
Week 8
Week 8
A dry windy week and spring is definitely in the air. No more trees down so with a bit of luck I shall be back onto bridge building next week. The fish in the hatchery are growing apace; they are now around an inch long, with round fat bellies. The tinning in the river is also going smoothly, the river has dropped an inch this week which is a good thing for the stretch that you have already cleared of silt, but reduces the “silt clearing” action of the tin, slowing the whole process down.
Because the weather has been dry and windy, it has given me the perfect opportunity to burn off several areas of Spearbed. Chiefly made up of Phragmites – Norfolk reed, the reed beds are a home to all sorts of flora and fauna. Burning the dead reeds off thickens the reed bed as well as supplying certain minerals to the growing red bed. Left unburnt the reed bed will still grow but a certain amount of new growth will be inhibited by last year’s dead reeds lying on top of them. In the years that I have been burning the reed beds, numbers of Orchids have risen along with various other wild flowers that grow amongst the phragmites. Once burnt the reed beds look a little stark for a few weeks before turning green almost overnight as the new shoots come through. The practice was frowned upon for a few years, but is now seen as an accepted method of managing spear beds in the Test Valley.
On a windy day, after a dry spell it can take only a couple of minutes for an acre of Spearbed to burn off, with a little bit of damp in the bottom it can take hours. While working as a student on the middle Test, I once spent the morning with one of the keepers burning up a tree that had come down. We went home for lunch at twelve, returning at one to a moonscape, several acres of Spearbed had disappeared as the fire we had left gaily burning, had sent sparks into the neighbouring Spearbed that had caught light and vanished in a matter of seconds.
With the weather warming and spring just around the corner, the Hares in the field behind our house have started to lose their marbles. For much of the year they prefer their own company, coming together to herald the impending spring. Several times I have witnessed a Parliament meeting in the fields bordering the river, up to a dozen hares gathered in an area thirty feet across. Oblivious to my presence just checking each other out before a bit of boxing and reproduction, behaviour not dissimilar to a Friday night in Andover or Winchester. They don’t look much but they are fascinating animals, full of quirks and foibles, they will favour one field one day and another the next. Sometimes they will fancy the wood, other days a small bit of plough completely devoid of food that turns their feet to balls of mud. They are seen as a pest on some estates, although, to me, crop damage from Hares appears minimal. Some estates will cull hares to deter the Pikeys and illegal Lurcher men who are out to run their dogs and check out the local area. While other estates will offer Hare shooting as a days sport. An estate local to our area regularly kills between two and three hundred hares a year with no apparent affect on the population. Myself I am not keen on shooting Hares, I don’t care much for eating them and they are bloody heavy to carry around once you have shot one. I can look out of my bedroom window most mornings and pick one out in the field behind our house, snuggled down in his scrape against the harsh weather, leaping around in his mid march madness, or cruising across the field in first gear on his morning commute to the neighbouring field.
Three years ago at this time of year, while walking the dogs up the river I came across three Otters, the first I had seen in my time in Hampshire. There had been prolonged efforts to reintroduce them to the Test and Itchen, and today they are resident throughout both rivers. The three I came across looked like a mum with two grown youngsters, I had only occasionally come across signs of Otters, the odd spraint or a half eaten fish. These three looked like they were passing through, Otters have a huge territory, and an Otter seen down in Stockbridge can quite easily be an Otter seen on the Dever. Despite the Conservation Officer’s protestations that Otters only eat Eels, they will decimate numbers of valuable stockfish held in a stew pond if given the chance. Many keepers now surround their stew ponds with a low electric fence, and at the moment fish losses to Otters are minimal, The real damage will occur if Otters are allowed to reach unnatural numbers through over protection, as was the case with the Cormorants and Herons several years ago. I remain unconvinced that the Conservation Officers of the Environment Agency and English Nature are the right people to make that judgement, which will be to the detriment of the fish populations in the Test Valley. On a lighter note we are due to get a new Labrador puppy in May. Zebo will be ten next year and is steadying up considerably. His brother Jacko, who works with a keeper friend of mine at Stockbridge is due to be a dad for the second time and we have first choice of the dogs. Jacko is slightly smaller than Zebo, as is the Dam, so our new pup shouldn’t be the big-footed chunky monkey that is Zebo, but should hopefully be as intelligent and hard working.
A dry windy week and spring is definitely in the air. No more trees down so with a bit of luck I shall be back onto bridge building next week. The fish in the hatchery are growing apace; they are now around an inch long, with round fat bellies. The tinning in the river is also going smoothly, the river has dropped an inch this week which is a good thing for the stretch that you have already cleared of silt, but reduces the “silt clearing” action of the tin, slowing the whole process down.
Because the weather has been dry and windy, it has given me the perfect opportunity to burn off several areas of Spearbed. Chiefly made up of Phragmites – Norfolk reed, the reed beds are a home to all sorts of flora and fauna. Burning the dead reeds off thickens the reed bed as well as supplying certain minerals to the growing red bed. Left unburnt the reed bed will still grow but a certain amount of new growth will be inhibited by last year’s dead reeds lying on top of them. In the years that I have been burning the reed beds, numbers of Orchids have risen along with various other wild flowers that grow amongst the phragmites. Once burnt the reed beds look a little stark for a few weeks before turning green almost overnight as the new shoots come through. The practice was frowned upon for a few years, but is now seen as an accepted method of managing spear beds in the Test Valley.
On a windy day, after a dry spell it can take only a couple of minutes for an acre of Spearbed to burn off, with a little bit of damp in the bottom it can take hours. While working as a student on the middle Test, I once spent the morning with one of the keepers burning up a tree that had come down. We went home for lunch at twelve, returning at one to a moonscape, several acres of Spearbed had disappeared as the fire we had left gaily burning, had sent sparks into the neighbouring Spearbed that had caught light and vanished in a matter of seconds.
With the weather warming and spring just around the corner, the Hares in the field behind our house have started to lose their marbles. For much of the year they prefer their own company, coming together to herald the impending spring. Several times I have witnessed a Parliament meeting in the fields bordering the river, up to a dozen hares gathered in an area thirty feet across. Oblivious to my presence just checking each other out before a bit of boxing and reproduction, behaviour not dissimilar to a Friday night in Andover or Winchester. They don’t look much but they are fascinating animals, full of quirks and foibles, they will favour one field one day and another the next. Sometimes they will fancy the wood, other days a small bit of plough completely devoid of food that turns their feet to balls of mud. They are seen as a pest on some estates, although, to me, crop damage from Hares appears minimal. Some estates will cull hares to deter the Pikeys and illegal Lurcher men who are out to run their dogs and check out the local area. While other estates will offer Hare shooting as a days sport. An estate local to our area regularly kills between two and three hundred hares a year with no apparent affect on the population. Myself I am not keen on shooting Hares, I don’t care much for eating them and they are bloody heavy to carry around once you have shot one. I can look out of my bedroom window most mornings and pick one out in the field behind our house, snuggled down in his scrape against the harsh weather, leaping around in his mid march madness, or cruising across the field in first gear on his morning commute to the neighbouring field.
Three years ago at this time of year, while walking the dogs up the river I came across three Otters, the first I had seen in my time in Hampshire. There had been prolonged efforts to reintroduce them to the Test and Itchen, and today they are resident throughout both rivers. The three I came across looked like a mum with two grown youngsters, I had only occasionally come across signs of Otters, the odd spraint or a half eaten fish. These three looked like they were passing through, Otters have a huge territory, and an Otter seen down in Stockbridge can quite easily be an Otter seen on the Dever. Despite the Conservation Officer’s protestations that Otters only eat Eels, they will decimate numbers of valuable stockfish held in a stew pond if given the chance. Many keepers now surround their stew ponds with a low electric fence, and at the moment fish losses to Otters are minimal, The real damage will occur if Otters are allowed to reach unnatural numbers through over protection, as was the case with the Cormorants and Herons several years ago. I remain unconvinced that the Conservation Officers of the Environment Agency and English Nature are the right people to make that judgement, which will be to the detriment of the fish populations in the Test Valley. On a lighter note we are due to get a new Labrador puppy in May. Zebo will be ten next year and is steadying up considerably. His brother Jacko, who works with a keeper friend of mine at Stockbridge is due to be a dad for the second time and we have first choice of the dogs. Jacko is slightly smaller than Zebo, as is the Dam, so our new pup shouldn’t be the big-footed chunky monkey that is Zebo, but should hopefully be as intelligent and hard working.
Monday, 25 February 2008
Week 7
Week 7
Fairly dry this week, the river has dropped a few inches and cleared considerably. The weed is starting to grow, bringing a hint of colour to the river bed, while the Brown Trout are “on the fin” and looking for the first sign of food, a few are showing signs of fungus on their nose. Brown Trout are particularly susceptible to fungal infections at this time of year, as the water temperature starts to rise, and in the autumn when the temperature starts to fall. The fungus Saprolegnia can infect any lesions on the skin. Appearing as white furry patches on the skin, it looks awful. Some fish cope and recover in a matter of weeks; others succumb to the fearsome fungus and die. The more stressed a fish is the more likely they are to contract the fungus, making it a particular problem with farmed reared fish. For many years the fungus was easily treated with Malachite Green, an incredibly concentrated liquid that would regularly turn the entire river navy blue, as keepers treated their fish. A great trick when I was at college was to sprinkle some of the granular form of malachite into someone’s hair, if it rained they would be dark blue from top to toe within minutes, if it didn’t rain they would end up blue eventually when they had a bath or shower.
During extensive tests in America, several ears fell off several mice, and it was found that Malachite had cancer causing properties. Malachite is no longer available as a fish farm fungal treatment, although it can still be purchased through pet stores under a different name as a treatment for tropical fish???? There are now other, more expensive, fungal treatments available, although I treat any fungal infections in our ponds with a saline dip. The river no longer turns blue, and for many keepers malachite is but a memory, however I know I am not alone in checking that I haven’t left one of my ears behind on the pillow when I get up in the morning.
The “tinning” in the river is going well, the river flow at the moment is ideal and I am currently a third of the way down the beat. I have also been digging back a bit of the bank, this is necessary when the marginal reeds or “the fringe” grow out into the river, narrowing the channel, causing water to back up, eroding the far bank or leaving the angler too far from the water’s edge. In today’s ever-mechanised age much of this work is carried out with a digger. Pre- diggers the job was done with a Hay knife and grabs. The Hay Knife, a farm tool, often seen on the walls of pubs resembled a three-foot cheese knife, The Grabs a long handled garden fork bent over at ninety degrees. During my time as a student at Leckford, I had helped out with quite a bit of “digging back” slicing down through the reed bed, chopping the root ball into cubes, and pulling it out with the grabs. In effect you are redefining the line of the riverbank, the cut cubes pulled back on top of the bank and trodden in to strengthen the remaining fishing bank. Hard work but very satisfying, If I can use the hay knife rather than the digger I will take the hay knife every time, it is far more sympathetic and gives a better finish to the bank and river bed.
While carrying out this work it is not unusual to come across large concentrations of brook lampreys, strange creatures between four and six inches long, with a sucker for a mouth. I once kept one in a fish tank. Answering to the name of Lionel, he appeared to feed on nothing at all, yet maintained his condition over many months, eventually returning to his ditch from whence he came, after we fell out over an uneaten meal.
Two years ago there was a press release about the scarcity of Lampreys. I would say with some degree of confidence that if you asked an ageing riverkeeper or ditch-digger to locate a lamprey, within an hour he would be successful. In my experience they populate roughly the same patches of muddy bank, leaving the mud for the river in the summer. I can remember one morning digging back some bank on beat six at Leckford with a couple of colleagues, and within a ten yard stretch finding hundreds and hundreds of Lampreys. This week I have found no Lampreys, although I would not have expected to find any on the particular stretch that I am digging back.
Fairly dry this week, the river has dropped a few inches and cleared considerably. The weed is starting to grow, bringing a hint of colour to the river bed, while the Brown Trout are “on the fin” and looking for the first sign of food, a few are showing signs of fungus on their nose. Brown Trout are particularly susceptible to fungal infections at this time of year, as the water temperature starts to rise, and in the autumn when the temperature starts to fall. The fungus Saprolegnia can infect any lesions on the skin. Appearing as white furry patches on the skin, it looks awful. Some fish cope and recover in a matter of weeks; others succumb to the fearsome fungus and die. The more stressed a fish is the more likely they are to contract the fungus, making it a particular problem with farmed reared fish. For many years the fungus was easily treated with Malachite Green, an incredibly concentrated liquid that would regularly turn the entire river navy blue, as keepers treated their fish. A great trick when I was at college was to sprinkle some of the granular form of malachite into someone’s hair, if it rained they would be dark blue from top to toe within minutes, if it didn’t rain they would end up blue eventually when they had a bath or shower.
During extensive tests in America, several ears fell off several mice, and it was found that Malachite had cancer causing properties. Malachite is no longer available as a fish farm fungal treatment, although it can still be purchased through pet stores under a different name as a treatment for tropical fish???? There are now other, more expensive, fungal treatments available, although I treat any fungal infections in our ponds with a saline dip. The river no longer turns blue, and for many keepers malachite is but a memory, however I know I am not alone in checking that I haven’t left one of my ears behind on the pillow when I get up in the morning.
The “tinning” in the river is going well, the river flow at the moment is ideal and I am currently a third of the way down the beat. I have also been digging back a bit of the bank, this is necessary when the marginal reeds or “the fringe” grow out into the river, narrowing the channel, causing water to back up, eroding the far bank or leaving the angler too far from the water’s edge. In today’s ever-mechanised age much of this work is carried out with a digger. Pre- diggers the job was done with a Hay knife and grabs. The Hay Knife, a farm tool, often seen on the walls of pubs resembled a three-foot cheese knife, The Grabs a long handled garden fork bent over at ninety degrees. During my time as a student at Leckford, I had helped out with quite a bit of “digging back” slicing down through the reed bed, chopping the root ball into cubes, and pulling it out with the grabs. In effect you are redefining the line of the riverbank, the cut cubes pulled back on top of the bank and trodden in to strengthen the remaining fishing bank. Hard work but very satisfying, If I can use the hay knife rather than the digger I will take the hay knife every time, it is far more sympathetic and gives a better finish to the bank and river bed.
While carrying out this work it is not unusual to come across large concentrations of brook lampreys, strange creatures between four and six inches long, with a sucker for a mouth. I once kept one in a fish tank. Answering to the name of Lionel, he appeared to feed on nothing at all, yet maintained his condition over many months, eventually returning to his ditch from whence he came, after we fell out over an uneaten meal.
Two years ago there was a press release about the scarcity of Lampreys. I would say with some degree of confidence that if you asked an ageing riverkeeper or ditch-digger to locate a lamprey, within an hour he would be successful. In my experience they populate roughly the same patches of muddy bank, leaving the mud for the river in the summer. I can remember one morning digging back some bank on beat six at Leckford with a couple of colleagues, and within a ten yard stretch finding hundreds and hundreds of Lampreys. This week I have found no Lampreys, although I would not have expected to find any on the particular stretch that I am digging back.
Week 6
Week 6
More heavy rain early in the week followed by two dry days, the river level is about where you would expect for this time of the year, and clearing a little towards the end of the week. I have received a few phone calls from regular Grayling fishermen about the prospects for the coming weeks. Normally we limit Grayling fishing to a five to six week period in October and early November, calling it to a halt at the first sign of spawning activity amongst the resident Brown Trout population. Occasionally if we have had a dry December and January we will allow some Grayling fishing in February, provided the river and banks are in reasonable condition.
Normal winter weather usually results in one of my main late winter tasks of moving on any silt that has been deposited by the increased flows; this turns the river the colour of chocolate and renders it unfishable. On this particular stretch of the Dever I am quite lucky in that I am able to wade the vast majority of the stretch, making silt removal a simple, if laborious process. Starting at the top of the beat I use large sheets of corrugated tin held in place by six foot long steel pins to temporarily divert the main channel flow into areas where silt may have accumulated. After twenty-four hours the silted area has been washed and it is necessary to move the sheets of tin down stream to the next silted area. This involves jumping in the river banging the steel pins into the riverbed and moving the sheets of tin downstream to rest against them. On shallower reaches it is possible to rest a sheet of tin on your toes while facing up stream, this leaves a narrow gap under the sheet of tin, the water forces its way under the tin, beautifully cleaning the top layer of gravel and promoting early season weed growth. I will have four sheets of tin in the river at any one time moving them daily. To get from the top of my stretch to the bottom can take anything between four and eight weeks, longer if the winter is dry and the river low. Some would argue that it is wrong to move as much silt as this on during this period, suggesting that it has a detrimental effect on hatches of Mayfly and survival of salmonid fry in the river. Despite my diligence not all of the silt is removed, year on year we have good hatches of Mayfly and have a background stock of fish that were born and raised in this river.
With the river clearing over the past few days it has also become apparent that the Pike are moving around and showing forethought towards spawning. Unlike Salmonids – Trout and Salmon who spawn in early winter, Coarse fish such as Pike Carp and Roach spawn in the spring. The one exception being the Grayling which belongs in a class of its own, possessing an adipose fin unique to the salmonid it spawns in the spring. In the weeks preceding spawning Pike become increasingly conspicuous in the river, targeting back waters and spring holes as spawning areas these usually solitary creatures come together for their annual sojourn to the spring hole, getting all loved up before falling out, returning to their sinister solitary lifestyle while threatening to eat anything that passes including their own kith and kin. I have fished for Pike in many parts of this country and indeed continent, and can confidently say that the most beautiful looking Pike with the most vivid colours and markings come from clear water, their condition and taste enhanced if they have lived on a diet of trout. Someone I knew once caught a trout from a lake bordering the Rugby Cement Works, proudly presenting it to his mother who cooked and served the toughest piece of fish that tasted of cement. I have twice fished on Lough Ree and Lough Derg in Ireland, and encountered numbers of French and German anglers who were filling their boots with sweet tasting Pike from the gin clear water of these two huge Irish Loughs.In my time here the biggest Pike that I have caught is twelve pounds, it is not really Pike water and we only see them when they are seeking out the spring holes for spawning. The middle and lower Test contain some monsters, Twenty-pound Pike are not that uncommon, and I know of one of twenty-two pounds that was caught on a mayfly. The biggest that I have seen from the river is thirty four pounds, taken while electro fishing in October around Twenty years ago, it would have been significantly bigger during the spring when full of spawn. Several of my friends looking after stretches of the middle Test are now fly-fishing for Pike. Using reservoir rods and bone fish lures it is a sport that has taken off in the last few years, and I am convinced is a contributor to the increase in number of facial piercings seen on the streets of Britain today.
More heavy rain early in the week followed by two dry days, the river level is about where you would expect for this time of the year, and clearing a little towards the end of the week. I have received a few phone calls from regular Grayling fishermen about the prospects for the coming weeks. Normally we limit Grayling fishing to a five to six week period in October and early November, calling it to a halt at the first sign of spawning activity amongst the resident Brown Trout population. Occasionally if we have had a dry December and January we will allow some Grayling fishing in February, provided the river and banks are in reasonable condition.
Normal winter weather usually results in one of my main late winter tasks of moving on any silt that has been deposited by the increased flows; this turns the river the colour of chocolate and renders it unfishable. On this particular stretch of the Dever I am quite lucky in that I am able to wade the vast majority of the stretch, making silt removal a simple, if laborious process. Starting at the top of the beat I use large sheets of corrugated tin held in place by six foot long steel pins to temporarily divert the main channel flow into areas where silt may have accumulated. After twenty-four hours the silted area has been washed and it is necessary to move the sheets of tin down stream to the next silted area. This involves jumping in the river banging the steel pins into the riverbed and moving the sheets of tin downstream to rest against them. On shallower reaches it is possible to rest a sheet of tin on your toes while facing up stream, this leaves a narrow gap under the sheet of tin, the water forces its way under the tin, beautifully cleaning the top layer of gravel and promoting early season weed growth. I will have four sheets of tin in the river at any one time moving them daily. To get from the top of my stretch to the bottom can take anything between four and eight weeks, longer if the winter is dry and the river low. Some would argue that it is wrong to move as much silt as this on during this period, suggesting that it has a detrimental effect on hatches of Mayfly and survival of salmonid fry in the river. Despite my diligence not all of the silt is removed, year on year we have good hatches of Mayfly and have a background stock of fish that were born and raised in this river.
With the river clearing over the past few days it has also become apparent that the Pike are moving around and showing forethought towards spawning. Unlike Salmonids – Trout and Salmon who spawn in early winter, Coarse fish such as Pike Carp and Roach spawn in the spring. The one exception being the Grayling which belongs in a class of its own, possessing an adipose fin unique to the salmonid it spawns in the spring. In the weeks preceding spawning Pike become increasingly conspicuous in the river, targeting back waters and spring holes as spawning areas these usually solitary creatures come together for their annual sojourn to the spring hole, getting all loved up before falling out, returning to their sinister solitary lifestyle while threatening to eat anything that passes including their own kith and kin. I have fished for Pike in many parts of this country and indeed continent, and can confidently say that the most beautiful looking Pike with the most vivid colours and markings come from clear water, their condition and taste enhanced if they have lived on a diet of trout. Someone I knew once caught a trout from a lake bordering the Rugby Cement Works, proudly presenting it to his mother who cooked and served the toughest piece of fish that tasted of cement. I have twice fished on Lough Ree and Lough Derg in Ireland, and encountered numbers of French and German anglers who were filling their boots with sweet tasting Pike from the gin clear water of these two huge Irish Loughs.In my time here the biggest Pike that I have caught is twelve pounds, it is not really Pike water and we only see them when they are seeking out the spring holes for spawning. The middle and lower Test contain some monsters, Twenty-pound Pike are not that uncommon, and I know of one of twenty-two pounds that was caught on a mayfly. The biggest that I have seen from the river is thirty four pounds, taken while electro fishing in October around Twenty years ago, it would have been significantly bigger during the spring when full of spawn. Several of my friends looking after stretches of the middle Test are now fly-fishing for Pike. Using reservoir rods and bone fish lures it is a sport that has taken off in the last few years, and I am convinced is a contributor to the increase in number of facial piercings seen on the streets of Britain today.
Monday, 11 February 2008
Week 5
Week 5
More wind and rain and the promise of snow, which never came. I am still chopping up trees in between ferrying my employer around who is recovering from a hernia operation, finally taking her to the airport in midweek, as she was off to stay with her son and his family in New York.
High Winds in the week bought down a huge Golden Willow. This time the tree fell on dry land, it had been dead for around six months, killed by honey fungus, and shattering into a million pieces as it hit the ground. Two other huge Golden Willows have succumbed to the dreaded Honey Fungus in the last ten years, along with a few ornamental trees in the garden. Some trees seem to be particularly susceptible to it while others are completed unaffected by it. Within yards of the Golden Willows that have fallen to Honey Fungus are several mature Horse Chestnuts, an ancient Mulberry, several willows, one of which I’m told is an Aspen, all sorts of fruit trees and a very colourful Amber. None of which show any signs of catching the fearsome fungus. The sickest of the lot being the ornamental Cherries although many cherry trees in our area have had a hard time of it of late and are not in what one would call “tip top” condition.
As each giant Golden Willow succumbed to the fungus the die-back in the crown of the tree became a larder for all sorts of bugs and beetles, these in turn attracted all sorts of birds. Squawking green woodpeckers appeared from nowhere to bang away at the branches, along with red and black lesser-spotted woodpecker. For several days we were convinced that we could hear someone banging away with a hammer, the intermittent banging lasted several days and led us to believe that some huge project in wood was under construction in the village that would be held together by ten tons of nails. It was in fact a confused Nuthatch, who had convinced himself that a bird box attached to one of these Golden Willows was fall of bugs, he had climbed inside and was banging away at the inside, the noise amplified for him doing it inside the box.
We have also taken delivery this week of thirty willow sets that are to be used for producing cricket bats. The ground in the river valley is perfect for willow tree growth. A representative of the company came to see us in the summer and pointed out the best spots to site the trees and instruct us on how best to care for them. The sets themselves are fifteen-foot long stakes. A hole is created in the ground with an iron bar, a plastic deer guard fitted around the set; the set is then pushed into the ground. The whole cycle from set to bat can take between ten and twenty years, depending upon the rate of growth. Each year the trunk must be kept clear of side shoots, if left to develop these will cause knots in the finished wood, which will impair the performance of the finished bat. The sets are planted with around twenty feet of clear ground around each one. This ensures that the trunk will grow as straight as possible. On harvesting in ten to twenty years time we will receive a fee depending upon the quality of the willow. The Willow is graded for quality, the straighter the grain and the fewer knots the better. The trunks are cut into 28-inch lengths, each length or cleft is then cut into rough bat shaped pieces and initial grading of quality is made, the ends are waxed and left to “air dry”. A grade 1 blade will have at least four grains visible, with the playing face free of knots and blemishes.
It is a fairly long period to get a return on your initial investment, and I think my playing days will be well over before they are finally turned into bats, but it highlights the forward planning that has to be made for the production of something as simple as a cricket bat. English Willow is the finest material for the production of cricket bats and it is exported to bat manufacturers around the world, Kookaburra, Malik, MRF, Gray Niccols, Woodworm, all use the finest English Willow. Willow from other areas such as Kashmir being entirely different due to the different growing conditions.We finished the week off with a final shot at the ducks, three adults and three boys shot three ducks. We didn’t see many, there being so much water lying on the water meadows, that the ducks are spoilt for choice when it comes to selecting a place to stay the night. Those that we did see were flying in pairs, and not in large groups as they do earlier in the season. A sure sign that there minds are turning to breeding. Which is the main reason for the close season and a sure sign that it is time to put the guns away.
More wind and rain and the promise of snow, which never came. I am still chopping up trees in between ferrying my employer around who is recovering from a hernia operation, finally taking her to the airport in midweek, as she was off to stay with her son and his family in New York.
High Winds in the week bought down a huge Golden Willow. This time the tree fell on dry land, it had been dead for around six months, killed by honey fungus, and shattering into a million pieces as it hit the ground. Two other huge Golden Willows have succumbed to the dreaded Honey Fungus in the last ten years, along with a few ornamental trees in the garden. Some trees seem to be particularly susceptible to it while others are completed unaffected by it. Within yards of the Golden Willows that have fallen to Honey Fungus are several mature Horse Chestnuts, an ancient Mulberry, several willows, one of which I’m told is an Aspen, all sorts of fruit trees and a very colourful Amber. None of which show any signs of catching the fearsome fungus. The sickest of the lot being the ornamental Cherries although many cherry trees in our area have had a hard time of it of late and are not in what one would call “tip top” condition.
As each giant Golden Willow succumbed to the fungus the die-back in the crown of the tree became a larder for all sorts of bugs and beetles, these in turn attracted all sorts of birds. Squawking green woodpeckers appeared from nowhere to bang away at the branches, along with red and black lesser-spotted woodpecker. For several days we were convinced that we could hear someone banging away with a hammer, the intermittent banging lasted several days and led us to believe that some huge project in wood was under construction in the village that would be held together by ten tons of nails. It was in fact a confused Nuthatch, who had convinced himself that a bird box attached to one of these Golden Willows was fall of bugs, he had climbed inside and was banging away at the inside, the noise amplified for him doing it inside the box.
We have also taken delivery this week of thirty willow sets that are to be used for producing cricket bats. The ground in the river valley is perfect for willow tree growth. A representative of the company came to see us in the summer and pointed out the best spots to site the trees and instruct us on how best to care for them. The sets themselves are fifteen-foot long stakes. A hole is created in the ground with an iron bar, a plastic deer guard fitted around the set; the set is then pushed into the ground. The whole cycle from set to bat can take between ten and twenty years, depending upon the rate of growth. Each year the trunk must be kept clear of side shoots, if left to develop these will cause knots in the finished wood, which will impair the performance of the finished bat. The sets are planted with around twenty feet of clear ground around each one. This ensures that the trunk will grow as straight as possible. On harvesting in ten to twenty years time we will receive a fee depending upon the quality of the willow. The Willow is graded for quality, the straighter the grain and the fewer knots the better. The trunks are cut into 28-inch lengths, each length or cleft is then cut into rough bat shaped pieces and initial grading of quality is made, the ends are waxed and left to “air dry”. A grade 1 blade will have at least four grains visible, with the playing face free of knots and blemishes.
It is a fairly long period to get a return on your initial investment, and I think my playing days will be well over before they are finally turned into bats, but it highlights the forward planning that has to be made for the production of something as simple as a cricket bat. English Willow is the finest material for the production of cricket bats and it is exported to bat manufacturers around the world, Kookaburra, Malik, MRF, Gray Niccols, Woodworm, all use the finest English Willow. Willow from other areas such as Kashmir being entirely different due to the different growing conditions.We finished the week off with a final shot at the ducks, three adults and three boys shot three ducks. We didn’t see many, there being so much water lying on the water meadows, that the ducks are spoilt for choice when it comes to selecting a place to stay the night. Those that we did see were flying in pairs, and not in large groups as they do earlier in the season. A sure sign that there minds are turning to breeding. Which is the main reason for the close season and a sure sign that it is time to put the guns away.
Monday, 4 February 2008
Week 4
The river is up, with several more trees down. The bridge that I am poised to build with my split telegraph poles lies in bits, this is often the way at this time of year, the bridge can wait until I have dealt with the trees.
The fish in the hatchery are feeding well now and are packing on weight. Unseasonably mild weather in the middle of the week when the temperature climbed to 14 degrees instigated a hatch of fly around the middle of the day. This drew the attention of several fish in the river who regularly rose as if it were the middle of May. Hatches of fly through the winter may be few and far between, but are vital in returning the fish to their pre- spawning condition. For two to three weeks before spawning the Brown Trout go off the feed. The exertions of digging a redd coupled with the act of spawning, result in the fish losing weight and condition. The more food available to them after this spawning period, the quicker they regain their condition and are less likely to develop fungal infections. The river is crammed full of Gammarus shrimp at all times of the year, but a trickle of Olives hatching in Winter to a Brown Trout is like a nice juicy steak to you or I and they lap them up, putting a little flesh on their winter bones.
The mild weather has also bought on the snow drops, crocus and the first few daffodils. The grass has also stood to attention and greened up, a timely reminder to get the tractor serviced and order new blades for the Tractor mounted mower.
At this time of the year it is not uncommon to start seeing and hearing a few funny birds around. Many are passing through, some hang around for the summer. Hen Harriers have moved onto Bransbury Common, one of the first designated Sites of Special Scientific Interest; it is a magical place and home to many rare and unusual flora and fauna. Noted amongst other things for its Short Eared Owls that can be seen in groups during the day, it is an area of marsh between the rivers Test and Dever that I would not think had changed in several hundred years.
For several years now we have had a resident Merlin, who although small is spectacular in flight, it is not uncommon to put him up from the side of the road, you are then treated to his low flying display as he hugs the road in front of you before careering up and off at an incredible angle to make his escape. In complete contrast to the large lumbering Marsh Harrier, who’s floppy flight leads you to think that he could fall from the sky at any moment.
The red Kite is still around, I have seen him overhead in Bransbury and also over at Longparish cricket ground, unmistakeable in profile, I have only seen the one although the chap down the road said that he had seen a pair. If we are to see an Osprey passing through it will be over the next few months.
One bird that has increased in numbers over the past few winters is the Cormorant. A voracious fish-eater and resident of the shoreline and estuaries, they have been gradually working their way up the Test Valley over the past few years. Two years ago while fishing a pond near Stockbridge for Carp, William - my son, and I counted 21 Cormorants get up off the two-acre pond. At one time the pond in question had a reasonable head of small Roach and Rudd, there is little left in the pond now bar Carp of two pounds or more. Cormorants are decimating fish stocks in this country, clearing out lakes and some stretches of river of juvenile fish. The cost to Coarse Fisheries is immense yet little is done to control their numbers. The river Dever at Bransbury is an alien environment for a Cormorant who view shallow and fast flowing water as a last resort, yet as their numbers increase and their food source in their natural environment becomes more scarce they are forced to seek food in tricky waters like the Dever. On the Friday we had our beater’s shoot. None of the beaters at Bransbury are paid; instead they are rewarded with a huge lunch on each day, some risqué conversation and a days shooting at the end of the season. Not all of the beaters shoot; this year eight of them put themselves forward as guns. Several, like Mick, Alan, Brian, Gary, Niall and Jenkins are keen and accomplished shots, for others like Trevor - the world’s noisiest pig farmer, it will be the only time they shoot all year. The bag on the day was Nineteen pheasant, four partridge, two duck, five pigeon and a Rook, over the years the Beaters bag has ranged from four to forty, the one constant being that Jenkins insist that we look for a Woodcock that he shot eight years ago that was never found. Sally gave us a huge lunch that went on until well into the afternoon to mark the end of another enjoyable season. It is a matter of fact, that now the season is over the fields will be full of Pheasants who seem to have an in-built calendar that tells them the guns have been put away.
The river is up, with several more trees down. The bridge that I am poised to build with my split telegraph poles lies in bits, this is often the way at this time of year, the bridge can wait until I have dealt with the trees.
The fish in the hatchery are feeding well now and are packing on weight. Unseasonably mild weather in the middle of the week when the temperature climbed to 14 degrees instigated a hatch of fly around the middle of the day. This drew the attention of several fish in the river who regularly rose as if it were the middle of May. Hatches of fly through the winter may be few and far between, but are vital in returning the fish to their pre- spawning condition. For two to three weeks before spawning the Brown Trout go off the feed. The exertions of digging a redd coupled with the act of spawning, result in the fish losing weight and condition. The more food available to them after this spawning period, the quicker they regain their condition and are less likely to develop fungal infections. The river is crammed full of Gammarus shrimp at all times of the year, but a trickle of Olives hatching in Winter to a Brown Trout is like a nice juicy steak to you or I and they lap them up, putting a little flesh on their winter bones.
The mild weather has also bought on the snow drops, crocus and the first few daffodils. The grass has also stood to attention and greened up, a timely reminder to get the tractor serviced and order new blades for the Tractor mounted mower.
At this time of the year it is not uncommon to start seeing and hearing a few funny birds around. Many are passing through, some hang around for the summer. Hen Harriers have moved onto Bransbury Common, one of the first designated Sites of Special Scientific Interest; it is a magical place and home to many rare and unusual flora and fauna. Noted amongst other things for its Short Eared Owls that can be seen in groups during the day, it is an area of marsh between the rivers Test and Dever that I would not think had changed in several hundred years.
For several years now we have had a resident Merlin, who although small is spectacular in flight, it is not uncommon to put him up from the side of the road, you are then treated to his low flying display as he hugs the road in front of you before careering up and off at an incredible angle to make his escape. In complete contrast to the large lumbering Marsh Harrier, who’s floppy flight leads you to think that he could fall from the sky at any moment.
The red Kite is still around, I have seen him overhead in Bransbury and also over at Longparish cricket ground, unmistakeable in profile, I have only seen the one although the chap down the road said that he had seen a pair. If we are to see an Osprey passing through it will be over the next few months.
One bird that has increased in numbers over the past few winters is the Cormorant. A voracious fish-eater and resident of the shoreline and estuaries, they have been gradually working their way up the Test Valley over the past few years. Two years ago while fishing a pond near Stockbridge for Carp, William - my son, and I counted 21 Cormorants get up off the two-acre pond. At one time the pond in question had a reasonable head of small Roach and Rudd, there is little left in the pond now bar Carp of two pounds or more. Cormorants are decimating fish stocks in this country, clearing out lakes and some stretches of river of juvenile fish. The cost to Coarse Fisheries is immense yet little is done to control their numbers. The river Dever at Bransbury is an alien environment for a Cormorant who view shallow and fast flowing water as a last resort, yet as their numbers increase and their food source in their natural environment becomes more scarce they are forced to seek food in tricky waters like the Dever. On the Friday we had our beater’s shoot. None of the beaters at Bransbury are paid; instead they are rewarded with a huge lunch on each day, some risqué conversation and a days shooting at the end of the season. Not all of the beaters shoot; this year eight of them put themselves forward as guns. Several, like Mick, Alan, Brian, Gary, Niall and Jenkins are keen and accomplished shots, for others like Trevor - the world’s noisiest pig farmer, it will be the only time they shoot all year. The bag on the day was Nineteen pheasant, four partridge, two duck, five pigeon and a Rook, over the years the Beaters bag has ranged from four to forty, the one constant being that Jenkins insist that we look for a Woodcock that he shot eight years ago that was never found. Sally gave us a huge lunch that went on until well into the afternoon to mark the end of another enjoyable season. It is a matter of fact, that now the season is over the fields will be full of Pheasants who seem to have an in-built calendar that tells them the guns have been put away.
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