Angling for Brown Trout

Banks

PREFACE

MY excuse for writing this book is that so many anglers have told me that usually they do not read books on fishing for the reason that some of the angling literature which they have read savours too much of the text-book style and that they desire recreation.

This is not a scientific book, neither is it based on British Museum data. It is written from personal experience by a practical man for practical men.

A. R. HARRIS CASS.

ANGLING FOR BROWN TROUT

CHAPTER I

THE JOY OF TROUT FISHING

TO sit quietly, in the cool shade of a tree, on a riverbank during a hot day in summer, and to watch, ever and anon, the tiny tip of a float, are joys peculiar to the angler who goes in quest of coarse fish; particularly if the river be far from everyday hustle and noise. Then the man holding the rod surveys, with approbation, the far-flung water-side meadows, the stately trees garbed in mature green, and the distant hills wrapped in sultry haze. Now and again the plop of a water-vole in the slow-moving river makes an appreciable sound, otherwise there is almost complete silence, as the birds are chary of their notes in the torrid days of late summer. The kine, if not standing in the water and swishing their tails, are lying in the shadows of some spreading trees. Even if the roach are not over responsive, the fisherman is well content to rest and meditate, for he is able to revel, to a full measure, in a truly unmatched country-side.

Similarly in a sequestered seaside cove the rodster, who favours casting his lure well out amongst the breaking rollers hoping thereby to hook a fighting bass or to reel in the more docile plaice, has at his disposal a wonderful plethora of charms. Apart from the invigorating tonic of sea breezes, the beetling cliffs topped with sea-pinks, the many colours and formations of the rocks, the greeny-blue waters sending their silver-lipped wavelets across the golden sands and the amusing antics of gulls and terns are but a few of the attractions attendant on fishing from the shore.

Whilst in no ways wishing to disparage these forms of fishing, I venture to say that to seek the sportive trout offers a greater variation of delights and thrills than can be found in any other class of angling. Having used all kinds of rods, for many decades, I have no hesitation in stating that the acme of fishing is achieved by employing a fly-rod for brown trout.

Possibly you may be under the impression that the lordly salmon provides the best fillip. True the initial capture of a fresh-run fish of ten, twenty or thirty pounds will produce an excitant that will never be forgotten, but, believe me, there is far more in fishing than in gaffing a salmon.

Recently I picked up a book on angling and, in casually turning the pages before starting to seriously digest the work, I came across a reference to salmon rodsters, which suggested that these enthusiasts picked the brains of their gillies. Whether there is any truth in this soft impeachment I am unable to say, as my funds were never sufficient to allow me to indulge in boats and gillies, thus I have to rely on bank fishing for salmon and in rivers of small importance. Probably the allusion concerning the alleged use of the knowledge possessed by gillies is, when boiled down, little different to the business, in the realms of stag-hunting, of the harbourer who locates a warrantable stag in readiness for the tufters.

However, the chief point of interest to me is that whereas a salmon-fisher in famous waters may act on the advice of an auxiliary in the pursuit of his sport, the ordinary trout angler is dependent on his own resources; and herein, to my mind, the trout rodster scores, for he starts on his expedition unaided and with the object of tracking down his spoil.

Further, what the salmon devotee registers in weight of catch, the man with the trout rod makes up in numbers, for no one can expect to land salmon at the same rate as the trout specialist can net his fish. I have known instances where salmon anglers have worked strenuously for a week, a fortnight or more, trying fly, minnow and prawn, yea, even a bunch of worms without result, whilst, during the same period and from the identical river, trout fishermen have returned every day with creels laden with good brownies. Although the actual hooking of a fish is but a small part in the game, we all like to be rewarded occasionally.

Just as certain purists regard coarse fishing unhappily with disdain, so some salmon rodsters think trouting is very small-beer. I was fishing a salmon and trout river several years ago and, staying at the hotel of my choice, was a salmon fisherman who, for a month, had adopted every method in his endeavours to connect with a fish, but without avail. Seeing the trout served for breakfast each morning he said to me, irascibly and without any other provocation, no doubt feeling rather piqued with his fruitless efforts, If you are satisfied to catch small fish, I am not. I want something big on my line. The estimate that I immediately formed of him was that he portrayed a very poor type, for a true sport can take, in his stride, misfortune as well as luck. I may add that I had no compunction in continuing to fish for trout, and I can assure you that if you decide to practise the art you will be genuinely pleased when you guide a half-pounder safely to your net. So much, therefore, for the merits and demerits of salmon fishing and trouting respectively.

Before the war, when the roads were thronged with processions of motors and cycles, a motorist commented to a representative of the Automobile Association on the enormous number of cyclists to be seen everywhere. Yes came the answer and they are all potential motorists. One day, when the exchequer permits, they will cease pushing bikes uphill, and invest in a motorcycle or a small car. That’s how it works out. I wonder, therefore, whether the present-day coarse fish anglers or the seashore rodsters will, some day, embark on fly fishing for trout. The reason for my conjecture is that I know many of these zealots in their particular spheres are thoroughly intrigued with the new idea, and on numerous occasions I have been asked whether trouting can be obtained inexpensively both as regards outfit and suitable water. Evidently these two factors are the deciding ones for some prospective followers of the craft.

Concerning outfit, in normal times, the initial outlay could be reduced to meet any pocket, as most items of the necessary gear were put on the market in very cheap forms. At present, however, owing to quotas, lack of supplies and increased demands, some angling articles have risen in prices to fantastic heights even if you can obtain them at those figures.

Recently, being desirous of trying a certain rod, I wrote to the makers to know whether they could inform me of an agent who held one. They replied to the effect that they regretted being unable to help me as they had no rods at all in stock, and that, in view of the quota restrictions and extreme shortage of labour, it would be unlikely that they would be able to supply any rods for the coming season.

As I write, I have before me an advertisement of second-hand rods for sale and all by good makers. In looking up the makers’ catalogues I discovered that the original prices were roughly one third of those asked for the used articles. Thus you will readily appreciate the problem of obtaining suitable angling gear.

One explanation of the acute shortage of all kinds of fishing items is that so many golfers, having been denied their rounds owing to the links being required for crops, have turned their attention seriously to rod and line, and, no doubt, these entrants into a fresh pursuit will continue to make heavy demands on the available stocks.

When peace comes and control of raw materials is relaxed, manufacturers will return to their normal work, and the output will gradually make good the deficiency. Until then we all have to make the best of what we can muster.

To find a helpful answer to the question relating to suitable waters is bristling with difficulties as, here again, war revolutionises all our set ideas and habits, for there is no going back to our old conditions, and to prognosticate what peace will bring would be futile. Agriculture, Land Drainage schemes, and Hydro-Electric proposals, not forgetting Town and Country planning are calculated to upset our established notions.

As an illustration of interest I will quote one result of the Great War. Before that gigantic catastrophe there was a river with which I am well conversant where, for the insignificant sum of two shillings and sixpence per annum, salmon and trout fishing could be obtained on a stretch of some fourteen miles. Think of it, fourteen miles of incomparable water for so small an outlay; and that river, besides providing a grand retreat for innumerable salmon and sea-trout, was literally teeming with brown trout. When I visit the scene now, the locals smile indulgently at my modest catch of three or four brace of brownies as a result of an afternoon’s expedition, and tell me of the time when they tramped the fourteen miles of the river-bank for a day’s fishing, thinking nothing of returning with several scores of fish.

Then the war came, and the owner of the vast estate sold all his property of farms and lands. Some farms were purchased by the tenants, while others were bought by people thinking that farming offered the nearest approach to the benefits of El Dorado, but who, unfortunately, possessed no real knowledge of crops and stock. Quickly the rot set in: farms and lands changed hands yearly, but, alas, without the fishing rights. The rentals of these rights rose out of all proportion to their actual value and now to estimate the rent-roll would not be easy.

The fishing on sections of this river is leased to hotels; syndicates of anglers rent other parts, while private individuals own the rights of the remainder. Needless to add, every yard of the water is strictly preserved.

A year or two ago, I was given the opportunity of leasing a quarter of a mile of one bank at an annual rental of five pounds. Luckily I knew the stretch intimately and consequently turned the proposition down at once. For over thirty years not a twig has been cut there and on the steep hill-side, with a gradient of about one in one, trees and tall bushes obstruct every bit of the river. A fisherman with unlimited means, however, could make a good job of the length, but to no one else would the veritable jungle appeal.

The reference to the use of only one bank of a river opens up a very vexed question and, after years of mixed experience, I unhesitatingly state that, whether for purchase, rental or occasional fishing, I much prefer a length of a quarter of a mile on both banks of a river than a mile on one bank. The kind of river that I have in mind is one with an average width of approximately fifty feet. Of course, bigger rivers