Week 92

Week 92

Snow, snow and more snow. Proper snow, about six inches of it, all piled up at the side of the road after my friend peeled the cellophane from his ten year old snow plough, attached it to his tractor and went a ploughing!

Much concern over the amount of salt and grit available, and our local supermarket is all out of Saxo. Panic in the aisles as folk stock up with non perishable food in readiness for a month inside following weather warnings from the grave and austere weatherpersons.

Snow is great. Cold and ice is what everything needs at this time of the year, Flora and Fauna need to know that it is wintertime and will be all the stronger and fitter for pulling through a cold snap. Perhaps it is a lesson that we could learn from nature. I don’t mean the Inuit practice of putting the old folk out on the ice overnight to see if they make breakfast. But those amongst us who can, should, get out and embrace the wintry conditions. Instead of asking everyone to stay at home, encourage the able bodied to get out and deal with life amid the snow. Have a go at driving on snow covered roads and develop a memory bank of how to adjust to conditions, rather than hiding away and waiting for the sun to come out again.

The frozen ground has resulted in the river falling and clearing, the spring ditches are flowing at about the average rate for this time of the year. The Brown Trout in the river look to be in reasonable condition, feeding sub surface and regaining the ounces lost post spawning, the Grayling remain in spanking form.

With heavy snow on the ground, the Pheasant feeders come into their own and become a magnet to a wide range of wild life. The small patch of ground beneath the feeder, clear of snow, with a handful of corn in the middle is a welcome meal for not only Pheasant and Partridge, but many other species of birds. Hand feeding with a bucket of corn in areas clear of snow can really concentrate birds in these conditions.

Ducks remain few and far between, although the wintry conditions have bought the Widgeon whistling up and down the valley. Gadwall have been all over this valley for the past five or six years, but this year, numbers are low. A few more Snipe jag about the valley, and I am sure that a few other species of Duck are on their way to these spring-fed and ice-free waters.
Christmas passed in the usual fun filled and hectic manner, a pile of meat devoured and a trailer full of empties for the bottle bank. New Year was, as always, a jolly night with a similar amount of meat consumed and a second trailer full of green and clear bottles with the added bonus that, for the first New Year Party in recent memory, no one fell in a pond!

Week 91

Week 91

A little more rain, followed by an icy blow from somewhere around Moscow bought the first heavy snowfall of the winter. The river has continued to clear throughout the week and the spring ditches have started to flow. It is about where it should be for the time of the year. Steady rain post Christmas and into the New Year will be “money in the bank” for next season. The eggs in the hatchery are now eyed up and are now reasonably robust, the basket of eggs from two year old fish have been more successful than the basket from older fish, as was the case last year. They should hatch sometime between Christmas and New Year.

We had another day shooting. After a heavy fall of snow the preceding night the birds where slow to come down from their roost and as a result had not moved far from the wood in the water meadow. The snow continued for much of the morning and we saw a fair number of birds, plenty of Pheasant, a few Partridge and Pigeon and, on the last drive, a lone Woodcock. The Snipe that were about a few weeks ago have moved on and the Geese have yet to take up residence on the upstream water meadows. For some reason, there seem to be fewer ducks flighting this valley than in previous years.

At the start of this week, I was summoned to retrieve my daughter from the bus stop. While returning down the lane in the dark at teatime, we were halted by a display of flashing lights blocking the road. After parking the car, and a cautious inspection it became apparent that, in its attempt to pass an Audi 4x4 from the local manor house, a brand new, and super low slung Mercedes sports car had backed into the ford across the river and become grounded. It’s mid section touched the ground and the left wheel hung in the air The brains trust initially assigned to the task where talking of Chinooks and Chains, I reckoned that if the Audi Pulled over, I had a rope at home that would pull them clear and the world could continue to turn. We edged past the incident, picked up the rope and returned to the fray. I approached the car where Toad of Hall and Nikki Lauda were searching for the manual for the brand the new vehicle. The two wives were behind me, and getting on famously, as I bent to attach the rope, one them exclaimed, “ I really must apologise for my husband, he has no idea what he is doing” A polite reply was called for, but what do you say? The truth? - He doesn’t know what he is doing and it would be really helpful if he just got back in the car, or a placatory, “ Oh I don’t know, at least he’s having a go” The rope was attached and the low slung Mercedes dragged out amid much scraping and not much of a thank you.

Two days later I nipped up to our top bit of game cover to flatten a row of Maize in an attempt to hold a few Partridge for the shoot on the Friday. Half way through the row a lorry burst through the hedge from the dual carriageway and became embedded in the sticky field. The driver replete in high viz attire set of across the plough before balled up feet halted his tracks and he sought an easier passage scuttling up and down the verge of the road. Wondering what he was about, I approached with caution. I repelled his initial charge and it became apparent that he was in a state of shock, Emergency services were summoned and I set myself to blocking the gap in the hedge to prevent him running in the road. After twenty minutes of me rejecting his advances, the Blue Lights appeared and took him to hospital, and then on to home where he is now ok.

Half of the Partridge, in the top drive on Friday made their escape through the gap in the hedge, that the Lorry had made.

Such is life!

I was a Riverkeeper once!

Week 90

Week 90

A lot less rain than in previous weeks and the river has fined down to a level that is now fishable for Grayling. One regular up from Dorset had a fish approaching 2lb, on a tiny pink nymph with a ton of weight to get it down in the flow. The fish was in peak condition and was not the biggest in the glide that he hauled it out of. A high proportion of the intense rain that we received in preceding weeks ran straight off the valley into the river, resulting in a quick rise in level and deepening of colour. Forty-eight hours after the last shower the river had cleared and has maintained a reasonable level at about what is expected at this time of year. The spring ditches on this stretch have started to flow, although the long ditch that leads up through the village and beyond is not flowing that high up it’s seasonal valley. Two days of this week were spent retrieving the tractor from a boggy morass in the wood. While ambitiously attempting to get close to a recently fallen Ash Tree, the tractor faltered and broke through the surface of the soggy water meadow. There is still a lot of water making its way down into the aquifers which bodes well for the coming months.

The Grayling Fisherman who fished this week has fished here for some time with a fishing friend of long standing. Sadly his friend died recently and the chap is now fishing alone. The impression that some non-fishers have of fishing is that of a solitary pursuit. In my experience the exact opposite is the truth. Most anglers have a friend, or friends, that they fish with on a regular basis. I have my own group of fishing friends, and the camaraderie and team play when fishing is as intense as it is when participating in team sports. Fishing alone has its rewards, but if a fishing pal should turn up unexpectedly then the banter and conversation rattles around like machine gun fire. The Grayling Fishermen had been left some tackle by his friend, which he used for much of the morning. I visited him on the bank in the afternoon, and noticed that he had reverted to his own tackle. I asked why he had made the change to which he replied, “ I always did catch more than he did when we came here, and now I know why!” instigating a clap of thunder and a bolt of lightening that sent the lone fisher scuttling rapidly to the hut.

The eggs in the baskets are now eyed up. The microscopic eggs that I took from the two-year-old fish have been far more successful than the eggs from the three-year-old fish. The Brown Trout in the river look to be recovering well from their recent spawning and as a result of the high water are occupying different lies than they would in the summer.

We have another shoot pending and, with luck, most of the Pheasants are back where they should be. Heavy snow is also forecast which will make the day a little different.

Week 89

Week 89

We had our first shoot at the start of the week, a wet and wind blown affair. It stopped raining mid morning and the birds flew superbly on a variable wind. The final bag was between sixty and seventy, mostly Pheasants, with a dozen Partridge and a dozen pigeon. Surprisingly we saw very few Duck and no Geese. On the first drive we are required to bring in the water meadow above our top boundary. A broad expanse criss- crossed by spring ditches, it is normally a good place to put up some ducks and geese early in the day. This time we saw no duck and no geese, but did disturb a few Snipe that skewed away on the wind. After a very wet period there is a lot of standing water in the meadows so it may be that the Ducks are spoilt for choice for a place to splash and dibble. On our second drive, a brutal trek across saturated plough, we put up many Partridges, the first fifty of which eschewed an easy exit downwind to fly directly into a forty mile an hour wind and over a main road to safety. Fortunately we saw plenty in the top strip of Maize, but I reckon we could have surrounded that field with a cast of thousands and that first wave of Partridges would still have headed into the wind and away, so determined were they on their course of action we had no chance of driving them over the guns. Old Labrador Zebo, had a great day. After a couple of weeks banging his gums and surviving on basic rations while fretting over a bitch in season, he had lost a lot of weight. I was in two minds as to whether to take him shooting. He worked his way steadily through the day, picking up birds from every drive. Nephew Otis failed to impress. After giving everything for the first few drives, he was a spent force for the last two, and bumbled along behind me asking to go home.

The river has risen dramatically in a week, mainly due to surface run off. Much of the water sitting in the water meadows is working its way down into the aquifers, the spring ditches are not flowing yet, although it can only be a matter of weeks before they start to run. A large dead Ash tree has come down in the wind along with a few other limbs, although the Amber tree near the fishing hut clings on to its final few leaves. The flush of water is giving the river a good scour, gravels are cleaned and silt moved on. With the banks edged in and the weed cut out the channel is completely exposed to the flow and is currently getting a thorough makeover.

The Merlin is back. While driving up the lane earlier this week, it darted out from the hedgerow. Flying along in front of the car, rising and dipping in flight for sixty yards or more before banking left through a gap in the hedge. Incredibly agile in the air, they have been turning up here for some years now.

The week ended with Christmas tree duty. The School and Village Hall both required trees for Christmas Fairs pending. The Christmas trees down hear currently fall into three categories. Very small (less than 3ft), Bloody Huge (over 40ft) and a uniquely shaped mid range selection; The School got a mighty fine six foot Christmas Bush, and the Village hall a reasonable twelve footer replete with nest.

Week 88

Week 88

What a wet couple of weeks, we have had our fair share but up in the Lake District they had over twelve inches in the space of 24 hours. This “one in a thousand” event washed away bridges and flooded the town of Cockermouth, which sits on the confluence of the rivers Derwent and Cocker. Historically prone to flooding the populace of this small medieval town, accustomed as they must be to donning waders and wellies, can only have been astonished at the scale of this recent flood. We attended a family wedding at a smart hotel on the banks of one of the rivers; our first floor room overlooked the river and must be high on the list for new carpets having seen it on the BBC news. At lunchtime on the day of the family wedding my son and I were chatting to another guest at a table in the bar and just about to take the first sip of the day, when the full glass of beer slid a few inches across the table and toppled over. The lady from behind the bar appeared with a cloth, promises of a fresh pint and cursed “that bloody ghost that’s costing this bar a fortune” It was not an uncommon occurrence for glasses to fall over unaided in this spot. I was knocked off my stride for a moment and looked for an explanation but could find none. She faced this bizarre moment with admirable stoicism and practical common sense, while I looked under the table for Derek Acorha. Her outlook will serve many well in the wake of the recent freak flood, while mine will herald calls an ark.

It will be interesting to see what effect the flood will have on fish populations and invertebrates. A wet winter on the Dever invariably results in a downstream drift of invertebrates that eventually work their way back upstream over subsequent seasons. It is my guess that the headwaters of the Derwent and Cocker will have suffered the greatest loss, but hatches of fly will increase over the following years as flies work their way back upriver. The fish will be ok, they always seem to find somewhere to tuck away, although many salmonid eggs in redds will have been washed away.

On the Dever the heavy rain has lifted the river and there is now enough water to run the streams through the garden plus some extra to send down the millstream. A chap popped round in a fancy car this week, although I’ve seen fancier, selling photos that he had taken from his helicopter. I wish he had let me know when he was taking the picture as the garden looked a bit of a mess, as did an area round the back where I store much of my stuff, as a result much of this week has been spent having a bit of a tidy. Hopefully the fancy man in his flying machine will email the picture to me so that I can Photoshop out the untidy bits.

One day this week was spent in the company of The Cefas man, establishing boxes that need a tick and records that have to kept, in order to keep the fishing world turning and the river Dever flowing. This was followed by a visual inspection of the site. It’s a regular event that all registered fish farms/fisheries have to go through. Our inspector is a nice chap, who recognises that as much can be achieved over an informal cup of coffee, as the stringent box ticking exercise that we are required to perform as formality. The introduction of non-native species and illegal fish movements are always on the agenda. Non-native species entered the public domain this week on an ITV Chinese cookery programme. Over the past few years, we have regularly been alerted to potential invasion by Chinese Mitten Crab. An invasive freshwater crustacean it is a Chinese delicacy that some enterprising Coolie has chucked in the Thames. As a result, a breeding colony of Mitten Crabs now inhabit central London. It is an offence to introduce a Mitten Crab to another waterway, but these critters are renowned for ignoring movement orders and hiking miles cross- country to pitch into another river. The colony in the Thames has been established for some time and their future has been the subject of much debate. Why not expose this urban Mitten Crab population to commercial exploitation? a ready supply of a “high end” food source in the middle of town, and if over exploited, as it is likely to be, everyone’s a winner. Non-native species eliminated, and a few years of top soup!

Is it me?

Week 87

Week 87

A few inches of rain have added a little colour to the river but not raised it’s level. We really do need many weeks of prolonged rain to recharge the aquifers for next season. The fish in the river have all but done with spawning and many have returned to deeper water for some R & R and to regain condition. Any hatches of fly at this time of the year are welcome fodder for a post-natal Trout.

I have also stripped a few fish for eggs to lay down in the hatchery. Normal mixed sex eggs, nothing exotic. For the last few years I have taken the eggs from two-year-old Brown Trout, as opposed to fish of three years or more. The eggs are slightly smaller, more can be fitted into a basket and they are easier to pick. This year as always I went through the pond around Bonfire night for fish to strip, for some reason the two year old fish were not ready to strip, the eggs had not been released from the ovaries into the body cavity and as a result could not be expressed from the vent, the few three year old fish that I had left were ready and almost over ripe in one case. The two year old fish ready for stripping two weeks later than in previous years.

The weed has now been cut and the blanket weed almost all rolled away. Despite the hint of colour in the water the freshly turned gravels have a silt free sparkle, another welcome anomaly at this time of the year are the low numbers of fish in the river and stew ponds with fungal infections. A perennial problem when the river warms up or cools down, the fungal infection is clearly identified by white patches on the head and body of the trout. Some years losses in ponds and river can be devastating but so far this year we have lost none in the ponds and I have only seen one infected fish in the river. The Grayling are also in tip-top condition and will rise to a fly around midday.

The Pheasants area still scoffing maize and if we shot at them tomorrow we would have a good bag, fingers crossed they are still about in a couple of weeks time for our first day. A few ducks are pitching in on the pond but numbers are definitely down on previous years although there are twenty or thirty on the river when I walk up with the dogs first thing in the morning.
Most trees have now shed their leaves bar an Amber tree that has now turned a deep maroon and Winter feels like it is definitely here. We have had a few hard frosts but the stingers through the wood remain head high in some places and will need a bashing from further frosts if we are not to finish a shooting day covered in welts.

Week 86

Week 86

Just back from a half term trip to France. Fishing on the Yonne near Auxerre, a new river for us it once held the French Carp record with an 80lb fish caught by Msr Rieves near the river’s confluence with the Seine. The much photographed fish ended up in the Rieves family freezer, its value today to a Commercial Carp fishery that have spread right across France would have run well into five figures. The Carp on the river are few and far between and the chances of dropping in on some of them in a week are pretty slim. We fished a feeder or float for much of the week, catching numerous Barbel, Chub, Bream, Roach, Perch, Gudgeon and a Bullhead on maize, meat and maggots Great sport on light tackle, the fish were caught in fast flowing water gin clear and about five foot deep the Barbel in particular were in superb condition, rod wrenching bites and a thumping scrap on four pound line. The river was low, clear and many of the fish were clumped together in the deeper holes and glides, a familiar picture to home. Midweek we took ourselves off to a lake nearby and fished for twenty-four hours for Carp. Around eight acres in size we had the place to ourselves, the overnight temperature dipped to minus three and we did not touch a fish, not even a liner. The Fishery Manager proudly informed us that he had tipped three quarters of a tonne of pellets into the lake in the preceding weeks in his efforts to get the fish to grow for next summer, with little sign of feeding fish and clear unmuddied water most of those pellets must still lie on the bed of the lake what chance did we have of a fish taking our meagre offerings?

At home my parents kindly stepped in to do dog, fish, pheasant and Chicken duties. My employer shot the ducks for the first time, with few birds around and a clear night they were not too successful. The Pheasants are still holed up in the Maize and will make good tasty eating if Maize has formed the main base of their diet; a side dish of acorns can make them taste a little funny although they don’t seem to have found these yet. Strong winds and heavy rain greeted our return and the river has lifted a little, many of the leaves were blown off over a weekend and the screens on the stew ponds need regular cleaning if they are not to become blocked. The fish are now moving into full spawning mode with some huge redds dug on the shallows, Herons have become increasingly bold with the temptation of easy stabbings in the shallows, while the low water has at least kept the incoming Cormorants off the river.