A BROADLAND SPORTSMAN WITH HIS PUNT AND DOG.
Photo by Clarke & Hyde.]
Take, for instance, the rudd-fishing. The bags of these fish are considerably smaller now than they were ten, aye, even five years ago. It is quite possible that the crowds of summer holiday folk are partly responsible for this falling off; but is it not also probable that the gradual filling up of some parts of the Broads, mostly those parts where rudd do love to congregate, is by far the more important cause? Where the angler used to find the rudd in, say, two feet of water, there is now but a foot—in many cases barely that—yet the fish are still there. It is rather amusing than otherwise to watch the holiday folk going for these wary fish in such shallow water with the orthodox tackle of years gone by, i.e., a fine running line, float and shotted bottom; it is surprising to see a sportsman doing the same thing. Now, the rudd is essentially a summer-feeding fish, and what is more he is, when shoaling, a surface-feeding fish; therefore, even while the summer holiday folk are present, get you an eleven-foot fly rod, attach to the end of your taper line a two-yard fine taper gut cast, armed at the end with a fairly large crystal-bend hook; fill the hook with well-scoured gentles (half-a-dozen is not too many), and casting as you would with a fly, put this bait among the rudd that are shoaling in the shallow water, and see what will happen! The lid of your creel will constantly creak a welcome to a lusty specimen, and you will return to quarters with a heavy bag and a light heart, while the man with the float and shots will most probably return with a light bag, swearing at the decadence of sport on the Broads, and cursing the “cheap-tripper” as the cause of his non-success. So, too, with the bream-fishing. The day has gone by when you could pitch anywhere and make sure of a big bag of bream. This, also, is a summer-feeding fish, principally. Yet you have only to go about your work in a methodical and common-sense manner to command, at any rate, a respectable bag. Even while the crowd is in full evidence, look you for a quiet nook with a decent depth of water. You should have no difficulty in finding one; and having found it, nurse it even as a Thames or a Lea or a Trent angler nurses his swim. Bait it carefully, fish it as carefully with decent tackling, and success shall be yours clean in front of the man who, following the orthodox methods, follows also the “milky way” over the broad waters that are now continually disturbed by passing craft of all descriptions.
The best of the pike-fishing is to be had during the winter months, when the greater bulk of the weeds and rushes are rotted, and a keen frost is in the air. If you do not care to face the cold winds that sweep over Broadland at this time of year, then you must rest content with the comparatively indifferent sport with these fish obtainable in more genial weather conditions. But if you do not mind the cold, give the Broads a trial for pike during December, January or February. Certainly you will not be troubled with a crowd through the winter months! You will, as a matter of fact, have miles of river and acres of broad water to yourself. You can spin, paternoster or live-bait to your heart’s content, and you will catch fish that will handsomely reward you. No one who has only killed pike in Broadland during the late summer and early autumn months would credit the enormous increase in fighting power one’s quarry develops during the winter. The most successful tackling in the rivers is the paternoster, and for that matter it is the best on the Broads also. But spinning may be resorted to in the latter waters, and where a big fish is known to lie a live bait on snap tackle will most probably tempt him. You can catch your own baits from the rivers, but it is best to make sure of a supply from some fishing tackle dealer.
The ruthless destruction in the past of rare birds (and, by-the-by, the so-called “cheap-tripper” was not responsible for the unsportsmanlike slaughter) has rendered it necessary to protect many of them against utter extinction. The best of the wildfowling is strictly preserved. There is, however, some very good wildfowling to be had still from November until February. Here, again, the sportsman must not expect the bags obtainable years ago, but with careful stalking he should do fairly well. Some decent flight-shooting is also available. The three things absolutely necessary to success are, a handy punt, a hard-hitting gun, and a well-trained dog. The latter is the most important of all.
Notes and Sport of a Dry-Fly Purist.
THE TROUT SEASON, 1905.
Although at the present day, more than ever before, fishing in all its branches has an extensive literature of its own, there is, perhaps, no subject that requires more careful handling by an author anxious to interest his readers than dry-fly practice in general, and the sport obtained by his own rod in particular, during the long trout season. Nor is it easy to condense within the limit of a single article anything like full details of, and the actual incidents connected with, his captures—and also combine references to the delightful environment in which he is wont to pursue his fascinating art (the most humane of all sports where killing is concerned), and briefly to other matters, to embellish his descriptions. But I have done my best in what follows, and I hope the reader, all the better if he be an expert himself, will in imagination follow me through the verdant, flower-decked water meadows, and share the pleasures of an angler’s quest.
Long weeks before the first of April, which is the earliest date dry-fly sportsmen commence fishing in the Itchen, my preparations were completed—the eleven-foot “Perfection” split cane rod overhauled by its makers, and after many years’ hard work made to look like new (a trusty weapon as good as any angler need possess), was more than once taken from its case and within doors lovingly waved about as if casting a fly. An ample supply of well-tied flies was duly received, and on opening each small box the contents made one smile to look at because they would certainly be killers, i.e., red quills with gold tags, olives in three shades of colour as to wings, Englefield’s green quill-bodied flies with silver tags; gold-ribbed hare’s ear, and Wickham’s fancy, all dressed on sharp, full barbed, sneck-bend hooks in several sizes, and supplemented by old flies left over from previous seasons, which, when trout or grayling are well on the feed, are often accepted as readily as new ones—which would seem to prove that the fly is not of so much consequence as some people imagine. But beyond rod and flies, I attribute my success to always using a fine dressed running line, and the finest of gut collars, prepared by myself thus: Four strands of 18-inch picked refina natural gut knotted smoothly together, and pointed with two strands of 18-inch 4x fine drawn gut, forming a length of 2¾ yards, finer all through than usually supplied from shops, and yet strong enough to hold and play to a finish any trout up to 4 lb. I mention all this for the benefit of some men who I am certain do not fish fine enough in the clear Itchen.
All through April the river had a winterly appearance, the fish were not in condition, the weather unpropitious, and those too ardent anglers who did try met with poor sport; nor were blank days unknown.