FISH ON!
A Fisherman's Tale
God give me strength to catch a fish,
So big that even I,
When telling of it afterwards,
Have no need to lie.
What better place to fulfil one's dream, as told in the fisherman's prayer, than the West Country. This part of the world boasts some of the finest fishing available in the British Isles. Whatever your preference, be it game, coarse, or sea fishing, there is ample choice to suit all pockets, from free fishing in the sea and some of South West Water's reservoirs to named salmon beats on the River Tamar which divides Devon from Cornwall costing several pounds a day. To cover all that's available would be impossible in a single article of this length so I will concentrate on some of my favourite fishing experiences.
My first introduction to 'serious' fishing was during evenings with my father on the River De Lank, a tributary of the Camel. In those days my family would travel down from Cheshire and spend a few weeks at Polzeath. Dad would then escape as often as possible in the evenings to pursue his favourite hobby, fishing. I eventually was allowed to accompany him and carry the net; the split cane rod was too precious a possession to be entrusted to one so young. Forty years later my father still fishes with that same treasured rod on the river Exe.
I remember evenings sitting on the bank as darkness closed in, bats swooping back and forth across the pool we were fishing, surrounded by silence, the smell of the bracken and feel of the dew settling. I thought I was in heaven. I knew I was when eventually, after a long apprenticeship, I was not only allowed to hold the rod, but to land the fish my father had hooked. From then on I was the one who was hooked - on fishing.
In the summer, bass can be caught from the beaches or off the rocks on both the north and south coasts. Bass, to me, is the king of sea fish in the same way that the salmon is king of the river. I enjoy the preparation and planning as much as catching the fish. Tide tables have to be checked, tackle sorted and bait bought or collected. Being frugal, some may say mean, I enjoy collecting my own bait. However I don't enjoy digging for lug worm, that's hard work; gentle meandering along between the tides is more my style. Slipping and sliding in the mud at low tide, turning over rocks searching for peeler crabs, is an important part of the fun of fishing for bass. If you do collect your own bait, please only take what you can use and put things back as you found them. In some areas, due to over exploitation, it is now against the bye-laws to collect bait.
At last, exhausted from all the preparation, we arrive at where we are to fish. Make up our rod, bait up and cast out, now is the time to relax. I prefer to fish in daylight. I don't catch as much but I enjoy watching a float and at the same time observing the local fauna as they go about their business.
I caught my first bass off the rocks under Pentire Head, at the mouth of the River Camel. I can still remember my float disappearing out of sight under the waves, frantically scrambling to grab my rod before it too followed the float, landing the shiny bar of silver and the sense of achievement that comes with catching a fish. In those days it was a monster, all of two pounds.
One day a knock at the door announced the arrival of Robin Armstrong, wildlife artist and, at that time, water bailiff for the Tavy, Walkham and Plym rivers.
"Have a look at this, boy," says he, holding up a two pound wild brown trout. "Caught it this morning under the bridge at New Town."
The last time he had wanted to show me such an exceptional fish, before he could, his dog had eaten it. His dog then and my dog now, but that's another story.
"Do you fancy a day out? I have to do a patrol on the Tavy."
The patrol involved calling at 'The House' and saying hello to the riparian owners, who were happy for us to have a go for a salmon as they couldn't fish until the weekend. By then, being close to the sea, any salmon in the pool would have moved upstream and been replaced by fresh fish. Two salmon and a sea trout later, caught on the fly by me, we realised that this was going to be an exceptional day.
"Fancy a go for the grand slam?" asked Robin.
"What's that?" I asked.
>"A brown trout, a rainbow trout, a sea trout and a salmon all in the same day," he replied.
"You bet!" says I.
Off we set for Stafford Moor, one of Devon's largest private fisheries with over twenty acres of water, to catch our rainbow trout. The end to a perfect day was the landing of a one and a half pound rainbow by Robin.