National News & Information > Features August 2007

At the end are the rainbows by Hugh Creasy

A glimpse of yellow in a field of green. Below the oak and stark-branched roses, empty of colour, and reaching to an ash-grey sky, the daffodils are peeping shyly from green-sheathed hiding.  And the roses may seem to be hibernating, but close observation discloses bulging buds. The sun will bring their burst of copper-coloured leaves, tender with youth and heralding gaudy summer colours when sexual maturity leads to a lusty flowering and the message of fertility unfulfilled.

It’s enough to make one come over all poetical.

But there’s a baser urge driving me. The river calls. It’s been too long since the last pheasant rose over a frost-hardened field, and the smell of gunsmoke clung to my clothes, mixed with the odour of damp dog and mud-caked leather. It’s been too long since the pleasurable burden of dead birds and perhaps a hare or a rabbit or two weighed down my blood-smeared hunting jacket.  The winter days bring cold, clear thinking and an appreciation of home and hearth after a day battling the elements.
The river calls and it brings a message of warm evenings, mayfly hatches and the succulent sipping of trout juicily slurping soft morsels of living flesh from the river’s surface.  The river calls and tempts the angler with a message as seductive as any a Siren may compose. But there is no fatal dashing upon the rocks if the call is answered. Instead, the angler must accept a fate of frustration at skills lacking in finesse – skills too long unpractised – missed takes and humbling acceptance of defeat at the wiles of a fish. Or perhaps there will be joy as a trout rolls in the net at the end of hard-fought battle and the decision must be made as to its life or death. Do not let guilt decide the fish’s fate, let it rest in the good hands of common sense.

 There are no certainties in spring and wind and rain will play their part in frustrating the angling possibilities. It pays to be able to adapt to any conditions, and while the fly fisher may mourn the lack of opportunity to use his skills, there are other methods to catch a fish.

Generations of country kids have been brought up to believe that the quickest way to get a feed from the local river is with a hook and a worm. It works, but it does have its limitations.

When rivers are running high, fast and cold with snow melt, the fish hold low and nearly uncatchable in the deepest pools. There is none of the carefree feeding of early summer. The fish must be tempted, either with a lure that provokes an angry strike or with a morsel so tasty, so alluring and seductive that the fish must take.

Such a lure exists. It lives in the mud of the riverbank, at the margin where it has taken up residence after wintering in the water. It is the larva of the Dobson fly and at this time of year it is fat and active. A search under the stones at the river’s edge will disclose it. It is not a creature of great beauty, and its’ adult form is a clumsy and noisy flier that crashes about after dark.

A half dozen or so of the larvae collected will last a few hours fishing. They can be kept in a little water and damp mud in a small jar in the angler’s pocket. Soft- bodied insects such as worms and larvae are difficult to cast, especially with a stiff action spinning rod.
This is where a little lateral thinking comes in handy. Use a fly rod to cast the bait. Attach a spinning reel to the fly rod. Use 2 to 3 kilo breaking strain nylon and attach a bubble float half filled with water. Use swivels at all joins. Attach to the bubble float a leader as long as is needed to reach the bottom of the pool. Use split shot two thirds down the leader to make it sink. A 2xlong-shanked size 12 hook driven through the hard-shelled thorax will hold the larva reasonably well, but care must be taken in casting.

This is where the soft-action flyrod is so much better that a spinning rod. Make a long, looping cast into the head of the pool and give the bait time to sink. Strike as soon as the bubble bobs under water.

A larva cast in the most gentle manner possible will last quite a few casts, but should be replaced when it ceases being active. Worms can be cast using the same rig and hu hu and other grubs found in rotten wood make good bait.  There are areas where live baiting is illegal, so check regulations first.

There is a need in all humanity to achieve some kind of dominance over nature. Much of what we do can be destructive, but when good sense prevails, balance is struck. Without the survival imperative humankind would never  have dragged itself from the evolutionary mud, so recognise the need and succumb to temptation. You’ll feel all the better for it.

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