When our trout streams open here in Devon I like to meet up with a few friends who have also come out of their fly fishing hibernation, stretch, yawn a little, perhaps even catch a trout or two.
It felt like winter had been a countdown for just this day from a fishing point of view. The poor weather we have all had to contend with had meant grayling fishing had been at the very best minimal, which made 15th March all the more important. The trout streams were open for fishing.
March 14th had been mild, bright and sunny with only the briefest wisps of cloud. As I drove back from Exeter I imagined the scene on the river, picturing a nice little hatch of large dark olives and a few rising trout. I smiled and hoped the next day would be the same.
Waking up at stupid o’clock and devouring a bacon and fried egg sandwich like it was the first meal I had in days meant I was ready. I’d packed the car the day before, unpacked it and then packed it again making sure I left nothing behind.
We were due to meet at 9ish. To some of my friends this is firstly far too late and secondly they, like me, know we meet at least a good half hour before that to have coffee and to catch up.
It’s 8.15am and I am on my way to the river. I see Richard's truck a car in front of me and allow myself the first of the many smiles I make that day. True to form I knew he’d be there extra early. I watch him make a left turn to park by a bridge to look at the river we’d be fishing that day. A few honks of the horn and a wave as I pass and just a short distance further I hop out of the car.
I need to pee. The two quickly drunk cups of tea fuelled by excitement mean I have to.
Richard and Luke are soon with me. Richard has made the long drive from Hampshire and he picked Luke up in Wiltshire on the way.
They are pretty close to being bona fide trout bums, living every moment they can on the river, grabbing a few hours sleep in their cars before getting back into their still wet waders. I’m really pleased to see them.
Duncan is next. He is a real thinking fisherman and good to be around. We see Luke B’s van pull up. Luke is an artisan in the truest sense of the word. He builds bamboo rods to help fund his fishing addiction. It is a new van but I suspect it is equally well equipped as his last with facilities to sleep and cook in while being at the riverside.
We drink coffee and talk about where we are going to fish and see Chris turn up. He has come from the other side of Dartmoor and is ready to fish.
Fly fishing is often described as a solitary sport but I can’t think of spending opening day on my own. It is a special occasion and I want to spend it with friends.
We sort out where we are going to fish. Luke B and Richard off together and Chris, Luke and I jump in my car and head further downstream from the other two. Duncan headed upstream flying solo.
I forgot to mention the weather. The day I had seen previously hasn’t appeared like I hoped. In fact it was pretty much the opposite. A heavy, oppressive sky had met us and the forecasters said we were due heavy showers from lunchtime. The temperature was 3 degrees.
It looks and feels like the dries might be staying exactly that today. We are all rigged up with nymphs, heavy ones at that, but my money was on Luke B cracking first and trying a dry.
Chris headed downstream to try his luck in some shallower, slower pools while Luke and I have a couple of casts in some likely looking spots before deciding to fish where a small stream joins the main river. This spot is often a place I head to see if the trout are biting.
I give Luke the first couple of pools and despite doing everything possible to make something happen it doesn’t. I sit and watch as he expertly covers every likely spot.
The water is low and clear and looks just about perfect. We probably need a degree or two (perhaps even more) to ignite things but it isn’t on the cards. We have to engineer our own luck.
We walk downstream to find Chris but Luke found a pool he wanted to try and I double back and find Chris hard at work.
I don’t usually carry a phone but felt it ring from underneath my waders. It is Toby. I didn’t think he would be joining us today. I fished with him Monday for salmon (it was now Friday) and it had looked like he was coming down with something nasty. We had packed up slightly earlier than normal as the rod rings on our switch rod had kept freezing up and he’d asked to. It was the first time I can recall him doing this so I guessed he must have been sick.
He said he had just filled up his car with petrol and he’d be down in an hour. It's great news. I am really pleased.
The rain starts to fall as we meet for lunch. Nothing heavy, just consistent. We eat sandwiches, drink coffee and talk fishing. When Toby turns up we sort out where we will fish. Luke B and Richard wanted to fish further upstream where Duncan has been. I know Richard likes that stretch as he has extracted a number of good sized trout from there before. The rest of us are joining forces and fishing a long stretch of water that has plenty enough room for us all.
The rain starts to get a little heavier. If I were fishing alone I probably would have called it a day but the good company means this is never going to happen. I walk downstream and find Duncan. He fishes up the pool while we talk and we soon bump into Chris just ahead of us.
We end up with five of us sharing a rod and fishing the pools together. It is one of the highlights of the day and I wish the other two are with us.
We all notice things have cooled right down and it is time to head for the warm and dry of the bar. Our timing is perfect, Luke B and Richard have just got there and we sit down and reflect.
It hasn’t been easy but we’ve caught fish and you know something, it isn’t about that. It is about the company of good friends and the start of our 2013 fishing adventures.