Grayling fishing on the Test – 08 December 2002

We were back at the Test at Wherwell for more winter grayling fishing.

Temperatures were cold, but not really freezing. The sky remained leaden all day, giving the impression of a twilight world.

After the Bigger Breakfast in the Happy Eater, I felt weatherproofed. Several layers of clothing and thermal underwear probably had more to do with it.

I switched back to my little Cortland CL #4/5 rod for this trip and noticed how much slower the action was. It throws a very light line and is perfect for the dry fly on this small carrier.

By the time I had got my waders and jacket on, Duane was already on the water. As I passed by, he was playing a brown trout of about a pound weight. He’d caught it on a gold head green hares ear. He horsed it in and released it quickly in the water.

I fancied Beat 5, a side carrier which has fast runs and some deep pools.  It certainly was fast today and it was constant work keeping the fly on the water and the line from dragging.

I fished the whole length downstream (about 250 metres) with a black spider and had a take 2/3rds of the way down. The fish was on for a second or two before the line went slack. Ten minutes I had another good take and saw a grayling of about ½ a pound come to the surface. This only stayed on for 10 seconds before throwing the hook. I was a bit surprised, as it seemed so well hooked. Amazing isn’t it? A lifetime in fishing and still I am surprised when a fish gets off.

Working the water back upstream with a czech nymph, I spotted some good specimens in a deep pool near the main carrier. These were nervous fish and moved whenever the fly drifted by them. Thorsten passed me and mentioned he was going to try downstream. He had taken a sea-trout there last winter. He had a nice 25cm grayling so far this morning.

I moved back to the main carrier and tried a gold bead hares ear, but got no takers. It was getting on for 1pm and Thorsten returned. He had just hooked and lost a grayling and was heading for the hut for lunch.

Soon after, a number of small fish started rising and taking off the surface. The light was so poor I could not see anything hatching or flying about. I tried the black spider fished just sub-surface, but they did not want to know. It was time for me to join the others and get that BBQ steak sandwich inside me.

The wine was good, but the Albanian Konjak (cognac) I had the temerity to bring was like a well-known fly; pale and watery. It tasted OK, but was no stronger than port.

Stopping just long enough for a doughnut and more wine, I fished a czech nymph all the way upstream on the main carrier. Initially a lot of smaller fish were rising, but again I could not see what they were taking and noticed the larger fish were staying on the bottom, so kept the czech nymph on for a while.

I located a shoal of good sized fish and targeted them without disturbing them too much. Not that it made any difference; they were just not interested. Thorsten joined me on the opposite bank and tried his luck. It was worse than mine as a tree sneaked up behind him and took his fly. The tangle that ensued kept him busy for the next 10 minutes.

Steve from Malawi then wandered up to look at a pool under a yew tree. He’d been told a shoal of grayling were holding there. It’s not a place for easy fishing and with the evening light going, he did not stay long.

I returned to the beat below the hut and waded mid stream, casting towards the weir. The wind was quite gusty though and blowing in my face. The Sage RPL would have made life easier, but with the Cortland, I was wasting my time, so moved above the weir and swapped rods with Duane.

After his brownie, he’d not had another take. He was fishing with a Diamondback rod and Cortland 555 line. It was easier casting into the wind, but somewhat overpowered for a small river.

The flocks of crows had long drifted over the trees to their roosts before we packed up around 4pm. Apart from Duane’s brownie and Thorsten’s grayling, no one had caught anything all day. It was hard fishing, but there’s always another day.