Bewl 30 April 2001

Colin the fat plumber was emerging from winter hibernation and his rod arm was getting twitchy. He suggested it was time to try out Bewl water in April. We have always meant to have an early season day there, but never quite manage it.

It wasn't the warmest of days or the gentlest of breezes, but as long as the boat wasn't swamped, we were not concerned.

I'd had a remarkable day at Hanningfield the week before with Walter; both of us getting our limit of 6 fish before midday. I put it down to the fish being easier to catch before the warm days of summer.

Colin was willing to test out the theory and we wasted no time starting a drift from the corner of Chingley Wood to the point.

We set out the drogue, but found the wind still pushed us at a good pace. Still, Colin was soon into a lively fish, which promptly threw his hook.

Passing a dead pike of around 3 kilos (7lbs), we carried on to the point and anchored up to a buoy for a while. Here we had a couple of takes, but no hook-ups. I'd tied some Cat's Whiskers and the tails were a bit long, so we shortened them, but still without success. Swallows, swifts and martins began swooping low over the water, mopping up hatching insects, a welcome sign that winter was fading.

I got out my sandwiches and Colin was appalled. "Wot! No onion bhajies? Whatever happened to tradition?" He does like things done properly and it's true, we have had onion bhajies at Bewl for over 15 years, but they give me heartburn now, so I left them out. "No good will come of this," he remonstrated. Prophetic words, as it happens.

Getting fed up with the wind, we motored down to Dunster's Bay and tried a drift there. Normally there are fish there, but we couldn't see any sign of one. Thirty minutes later we headed for Tinkers Marsh, opposite Rosemary Lane. This had more water than I've ever seen, so we had a long drift there, without catching trout or the bottom. It is always pleasant there and we heard our first cuckoos of the year there.

Rosemary Lane, by the lower dam, has a reputation for holding large shoals of fish in the colder months. At long last, we saw a couple of trout leaping clear of the water; we weren't flogging the surface for nothing. Another dead pike floated by the shore.

We anchored close to the dam and shortly, Colin has a nice fit rainbow on. It was about .67 kilos (1.5lb) and typical of the Bewl stock.

There were occasional rises nearby, but I couldn't get any to take. I'd switched to damsel nymph and also tried buzzers to no avail. The anchor was having little success too. Its attempts in holding bottom were hopeless and we dragged close to the opposite shore.

After dropping back to the margin between still and rippled water by the dam, Colin was into another fish. Much like the other one, it fought well and both had full spade-like tails.

Colin with his brace of fit Bewl rainbows.

I was beginning to wonder if there was something in this breaking of tradition curse. Do the onion bhajies disguise my pheromones, which fish obviously find offensive?

It wasn't that late, but we were getting a bit jaded. The wind was cold and too strong to be comfortable, especially as we had underestimated the weather and dressed for Spring.

A final foray drifting by the cages proved fruitless. Again, the drifts were too fast and I shipped my rods at 4.30pm and headed home, pretty chilled. Colin was very pleased to get his two-fish limit, especially as he had blanked on our last three outings, while I didn't. I'd been thoroughly gubbed by the fat plumber this time.

As we hadn't eaten much all day, a motion was carried to search out a curry house to revive our flagging spirits. Colin has a theory. If there is a parade of shops anywhere in England, it will include an Indian restaurant. Following his instincts, we kerb crawled along Farnborough village in Kent and found a delightful place. The food is very good there and it has some authentic Bangladeshi dishes.

I think we overdid it a bit. I'm just glad I didn't have to share a bed with him that night.