Trout Flies of Devon and Cornwall, and When and How to Use Them
Part 3
The author of the “Wild Sports of the West of Ireland” remarks, “I never observed the effect of bottom soil upon the quality of fish so strongly marked as in the trout taken in a small lake, in the county of Monaghan. The water is a long irregular sheet, of no great depth: one shore bounded by a bog, the other, by a dry and gravelly surface. On the bog side, the trout are of the dark and shapeless species peculiar to moory loughs, while the other affords the beautiful and sprightly variety, generally inhabiting rapid and sandy streams. Narrow as the lake is, the fish appear to confine themselves to their respective limits: the _red_ trout being never found upon the bog moiety of the lake, nor the black where the under surface is hard gravel.”
Sir H. Davie gives the following account of their spawning; and his remarks on some of the flies upon which they feed will be found interesting.
“Trout spawn or deposit their ova and seminal fluid in the end of Autumn or beginning of Winter, from the middle of November till the beginning of January: this materially depending upon the temperature of the season, their quantity of food, &c. For some time (a month or six weeks) before they are prepared for the sexual functions, or that of reproduction, they become less fat, particularly the females, the large quantity of eggs and their size, probably affecting the health of the animal, and compressing generally the vital organs in the abdomen. They are at least six weeks or two months after they have spawned before they recover their flesh, and the time when these fish are at the worst, is likewise the worst time for fly fishing, both on account of the cold weather and because there are fewer flies on the water than at any other season. Even in December and January there are a few small gnats, or water flies on the water in the middle of the day, in bright days or when there is sunshine. These are generally black, and they escape the influence of the frost, by the effects of light on their black bodies--and probably, by the extreme rapidity of the motions of their fluids, and generally of their organs. They are found _only_ on the surface of the water, where the temperature must be above the freezing point.
“In February a few double winged water flies, which swim down the stream, are usually found in the middle of the day--such as the willow fly, and the cow-dung fly is sometimes carried on the water by winds. In March there are several flies found on most rivers, and in April, the blue and browns come on--the first in dark days--the second in bright. These lay their eggs in the water, which produce larvæ that remain in the state of worms, feeding and breathing in the water, till they are prepared for their metamorphosis, and quit the bottoms of the rivers, and the mud, and stone, for the surface, and the light and air.
“The brown fly usually disappears before the end of April--but of the blue dun there is a succession of different tints, or species, or varieties, which appear all the summer and autumn long. The excess of heat seems equally unfavorable, as the excess of cold, to the existence of the smaller species of water insect, which during the intensity of sunshine seldom appear in summer, but rise morning and evening. Towards the end of August the ephemera appear again in the middle of the day. To attempt to describe all the variety that sport on the surface of the water at different times of the day, throughout the year, would be quite an endless labour. Some of them appear to live only a few hours, none have their existence protracted to more than a few days. Of the beetle, there are many varieties fed on by fishes.--These insects are bred from eggs, which they deposit in the ground, or in the excrement of animals. The cock-chafer, the fern fly, and gray beetle, are common in our meadows in the summer, but there is hardly any insect that flies, including the wasp, the hornet, the bee, and the butter-fly, that does not become at sometime, the prey of fishes.”
Mr. Stoddart mentions an interesting experiment made with trout some years ago, in the South of England, in order to ascertain the value of different food. “Fish were placed in three separate tanks, one of which was supplied daily with worms, another with live minnows, and the third with those small dark coloured water flies, which are to be found moving about on the surface, under banks, and sheltered places. The trout fed with worms grew slowly, and had a lean appearance; those nourished on minnows, which it was observed they darted at with great avidity, became much larger; while, such as were fattened, upon flies only, attained in a small time, prodigious dimensions, weighing twice as much as both the others together, although the quantity of food swallowed by them was in nowise so great.”
In the new Sporting Magazine for Nov., 1840, a writer on fishes says, “An acutely-observing friend of mine, who has paid great attention to the growth of trout, states that they are rarely visible the first year, that they congregate with minnows and other small fry; the second, are found on shallows; the third summer, about seven or eight inches long; and subsequently increase rapidly to a pound or a pound and a half, dependent on the quantity and quality of their food, the season, and other circumstances.”
This gentleman has for years kept trout in a kind of store stream, and having fed them with every kind of food, has had some of them increase from one pound to ten pound in four years.
Steven Oliver, in his agreeable scenes and recollections of fly fishing, mentions a trout taken in the neighbourhood of Great Driffield, in September, 1832, which measured thirty-one inches in length, twenty-one in girth, and weighed seventeen pounds.
A few years since, a notice was sent to the Linnæan Society, of a trout that was caught on the 11th January, 1822, in a little stream, ten feet wide, branching from the Avon, at the back of Castle-street, Salisbury. On being taken out of the water, its weight was found to be twenty-five pounds. Mrs. Powell, at the bottom of whose garden the fish was first discovered, placed it in a pond, where it lived some time.
The age to which trout may arrive, has not been ascertained. Mr. Oliver mentions that in August, 1809, a trout died which had been for twenty-eight years an inhabitant of the well, in Dumbarton Castle.
A trout died in 1826, which had lived 53 years in a small well in the orchard of Mr. William Mossop, of Board Hall, near Broughton, in Furness.
The trout in our streams rarely exceed a pound in weight: this may, in some degree, be accounted for from the circumstance, that the Devon and Cornish rivers are very rapid, consequently, the insects which fall from the bushes, are carried so swiftly down the stream, that whilst a fish is engaged in seizing on one, the others pass rapidly by: the same remarks may, in times of flood, apply to worms, &c. In more tranquil rivers a fly seldom escapes; it lights, or is blown on the water, is immediately espied, and the fish, whilst occupied in seizing one, has half-a-dozen in his eye, each awaiting his leisure in calm repose. That our trout _will_ increase rapidly, under favorable circumstances, I can testify from my own experience. I knew several that were placed in a pond, in August, which averaged from eight to ten ounces; in the July following, I caught the same fish with a fly, which averaged from one pound to one pound and a half.
Before taking leave of trout, I must notice a fly which may be used with success after sunset, in the months of July and August. It is called the white moth, and has often given me sport as late as ten and eleven on fine moon-light nights. Choose an open place on a tranquil portion of the river; the fly may be thrown with less nicety than in the day-time, and catching a fish does not alarm the neighbouring fry, who will frequently seize the moth immediately after the water has been disturbed by the efforts of the captured fish to rid itself from the hook.
Fly-fishing for salmon is seldom pursued in these counties. The fish meets with such a host of formidable enemies as soon as it quits the sea, that comparatively few ascend our rivers. The intent of the proprietors of our fisheries appears to be the annihilation of this prince of fishes. The most impracticable weirs are constructed, over which it is almost impossible for a fish to leap; in the pools immediately below, the rapacious fisherman casts his net every tide; whilst above, if perchance a fish does succeed in evading the cunning of his netting foes, a host of spearmen are on watch by night, as well as by day, to immolate the persecuted wanderer.
Laws exist, restricting the capture of salmon, within certain months; but that which in this case is truly everybody’s business, is considered nobody’s; consequently, in season and out of season are they caught, sold, and devoured, as openly as if no penalties were incurred by the act. _That_ food, which under proper regulation would soon become abundant and reasonable, can only now be placed on the tables of the affluent.
The preservation of salmon I hold to be a question of national importance; so much so, that I consider conservators should be appointed to protect them, as well from the unlawful proceedings of the owners of fisheries, as from the unscrupulous acts of the poacher. Weirs should be so constructed as to admit of their ascending whenever the waters are swollen by floods; hutches should be kept open at least forty-eight hours during the week.
Besides the perils which await the parents on their journey _from_ the sea, their young are also in imminent danger on their route towards the sea. The millers take them in traps, by thousands, and dispose of them by the gallon to the neighbours; indeed, at times they are taken in such vast quantities that pigs are regaled upon their delicate flesh.
Man is not content with employing his own ingenuity in capturing this delicious fish, he calls to his aid the sagacity of the dog, which we find becomes, by practice, as expert a fisherman as his master: numerous instances of this are on record. The following are well-established facts:--In the work by the Reverend William Hamilton, an interesting account is related of the assistance afforded by a water-dog to some salmon fishermen, when working nets in shallow pools. The dog takes his post in a ford where the water is not very deep, and at a distance below the net; if a salmon escapes the net, the fish makes a shoot down the river, in the direction towards the sea; the dog watches, and marks his approach by the ripple on the water, and endeavours to turn the fish back towards the net, or catch him; if he fails in both attempts, the dog then quits the water, in which the pace of the fish is too fast for him, and runs with all his speed down the bank to intercept the fish at the next shallow ford, where another opportunity, and a second diverting attempt, occurs.
Dogs are occasionally used in Glamorganshire, when trying for salmon. They appear to take great pleasure in the pursuit, exhibiting by turns the most patient watchfulness, persevering exertion, or extraordinary sagacity, as either quality may best effect the wishes of the master.
In some parts of Wales, where the rivers are narrow, the salmon are caught in a net drawn by men on each bank; dogs are trained to swim over from side to side, with the head and ground lines of the net, as required.
A clever poacher at Totnes, allows that he has killed many salmon in the night, on the Dart, by setting a trammel net at the lower end of the deep pools, by sending in a dog at the upper end of the pool, which dog he had trained to dive like an otter. The fish, as soon as the dog dived, immediately dashed down the stream, and were taken in the net at the lower end of the pool.
The Earl of Home, in a letter to the Earl of Montague, dated 10th January, 1837, relates the following history of a Newfoundland dog, which belonged to his uncle. He knew the Monday mornings as well as the fishermen themselves, and used to go to the mill dam at Fireburn Mill, on these mornings. He there took his station, at the opening in the dam, to allow the salmon to pass, and has been known to kill from 12 to 20 salmon in a morning: the fish he took to the side. The then Lord Tankerville instituted a process against the dog. This case was brought before the Court of Session, and the process was entitled, “The Earl of Tankerville _versus_ a dog, the property of the Earl of Home.” Judgment was given in favor of the dog.
Hoping the time may arrive, when the salmon in our rivers will afford similar opportunities for the display of canine sagacity, I shall, in anticipation of such good days, proceed to offer a few brief hints, which our grand-children may find useful, when tempted by a strong breeze and a dark gloomy sky, to cast the fly over a salmon run.
Follow the advice given with reference to the purchase of trout tackle; go to the best, which you will find the cheapest market.
Let the manufacturer know the average width of the river, and he will provide the rod, &c., accordingly.
In the selection of your flies, be guided by the suggestions of a local fisherman--obtain patterns, and get them fac-similied by a well-reputed maker, whose hooks are known to stand a long-contested struggle.
Commence fishing at the head of the pool Z., instead of at the tail, as in trout fishing.
Throw the fly directly across the river, from where the fisherman stands at A., to B. Let it sink a little below the surface; then guide it from B. to G., forming the segment of a circle; give it, during this passage, a jerking or sliding motion, such as water-spiders exhibit when sporting on still pools by the side of rivers; at each jerk draw the fly gently towards you, two feet or two and a half for salmon, seven or ten inches for peal. For instance, your fly having lighted at B., draw it to C., then pause a moment, when the stream will carry it down to D. again; draw it to E., and let it fall back to F.; pursue the same process until the curve from B. to G. is completed. By giving this motion to the fly, it appears to be struggling against the stream. In drawing it towards you the wings collapse, when you pause they expand.
Having cast five or six times from B. to G., move on a few paces, and throw over to H., forming a curve to I., and so on until the pool is carefully tried.
If a fish has been moved, note the place, and try him again in a few minutes. Be careful, not to throw immediately over the spot where he rose; but let the fly approach him in one of the glides made in the curve. Should the fish _then_ take the fly, don’t strike directly, but allow a second or two to intervene, when you will find the fish well hooked. Don’t be frightened--keep perfectly cool--hold your rod well back, the butt end rather from you; indulge the fish with as much line as he requires, taking care however to bear well and steadily against him, so that he encounters much resistance in drawing the line over the rod and off the reel. When the fish slackens his pace, reel up as much of your line as you can do with safety; this economy may be most useful when he again rushes off. The length of time occupied in playing the salmon depends somewhat upon the nature of the adjacent banks, and also upon the size and disposition of the fish, some being more lively than others; and a small fish will frequently afford better sport than one of twice or thrice its weight.
A gaff, or landing net, is necessary, as no gut will stand the strain of lifting a large fish out of the water. The foregoing remarks will be found applicable to peal fishing, which may be obtained in some of our rivers, and is justly considered very excellent sport.
To enter more into the detail of this amusement is not my present intention, I must be content with this rough sketch, leaving others to complete the picture. It is proper however to remark, that the flies used in peal fishing are about twice the size of those used for trout: they should be purchased under the advice of an experienced fisherman, as they differ materially from these which are applicable to the Irish and other rivers.
The ingenuity of the sportsman has been taxed to vary the means of capturing the salmon. Sometimes they are shot whilst leaping the weirs, at others they are speared by torch lights from the banks of rivers, or from boats. The otter has been trained to catch and bring the fish to his master; and, in “Red Gauntlet,” we find a lively sketch of a salmon chase, which is thus described by Darsie Latimer, in one of his letters to Allan Fairford.
“The scene was animated by the exertions of a number of horsemen, who were employed in hunting salmon. Aye, Alan, lift up your hands and eyes as you will, I can give their mode of fishing no name so appropriate, for they chased the fish at full gallop, and struck them with their barbed spears, as you see hunters spearing boars in the old tapestry. The salmon, to be sure, take the thing more quietly than the boars; but they are so swift in their own element, that to pursue and strike them is the task of a good horseman with a quick eye, a determined hand, and a full command both of his horse and weapon. The shouts of the fellows, as they galloped up and down in the animating exercise--their loud bursts of laughter, when any of their number caught a fall--and still louder acclamations, when any of the party made a capital stroke with his lance--gave so much animation to the whole scene, that I caught the enthusiasm of the sport, and ventured forward a considerable space on the sands.”
In the Arms of the city of Glasgow, and in those of the see, a salmon, with a ring in its mouth, is said to record a miracle of St. Kentigern, the founder of the see, and the first Bishop of Glasgow.
“They report,” says Spotswood, “that a lady of good place, in the country, having lost her ring in crossing the Clyde, and her husband waxing jealous, as if she had bestowed the same on one of her lovers, she did mean herself unto Kentigern; entreating his help for the safety of her honour; and that he, going to the river after he had used his devotions, willed one, who was making to fish, to bring him the first fish that was caught, which was done. In the mouth of this fish, he found the ring, and sending it to the lady, she was thereby freed of her husband’s suspicion.”
The classical tale of Polycrates related by Herodotus, a thousand years before the tale of St. Kentigern, is perhaps the earliest version of the fish and the ring. “This ring,” says Herodotus, “was an emerald set in gold, and beautifully engraved;” and this very ring Pliny relates, was preserved in the Temple of Concord, in Rome, to which it was given by the Emperor Augustus.
It is somewhat singular, that the Natural History of a fish, which constitutes so important an article of commerce--that adds so much to the wealth of a country where it abounds--that forms so nutricious and delicate a food--that affords an amusement which rivals that truly British sport of fox-hunting, should have remained for centuries in considerable obscurity.
Of late, Jardine, Shaw, Scrope, and others, have investigated the subject with much success; still, many points require further elucidation, especially with reference to the causes which induce this fish to quit its more congenial quarters, and resort to the fresh water, which is evidently distasteful to them, as they decrease in weight and become much weakened after they have frequented the rivers a few months.
Some of the recent experiments, touching the young of the salmon, are very curious, and exhibit much patient and minute enquiry.
Mr. Scrope, in his very interesting work entitled “Days and Nights of Salmon Fishing,” observes, “This splendid fish leaves the sea and comes up the Tweed at every period of the year, in greater or lesser quantities, becoming more abundant in the river as the summer advances. It travels rapidly, so that those salmon which leave the sea, and go up the Tweed on the Saturday night, at twelve o’clock, (after which time no nets are worked till the sabbath is passed) are found and taken on the following Monday, near St. Boswell’s, a distance, as the river winds, of about forty miles. When the strength of the current is considered, and also the sinuous course a fish must take, in order to avoid the strong rapids, this power of swimming is most extraordinary.”
As salmon are supposed to enter a river merely for the purpose of spawning, and as that process does not take place till September, one cannot well account for their appearing in some rivers so early as February, and March, seeing that they lose in weight and condition during their continuance in fresh water. Some suppose it is to get rid of the sea louse, but this supposition must be set aside, when it is known that this insect adheres only to a portion of the newly run fish, which are in the best condition. I think it more probable they are driven from the coasts near the river by the numerous enemies they encounter there--such as porpoises, and seals, which devour them in great quantities; however this may be, they remain in the fresh water till the spawning months begin. In the cold months, they lie in deep and easy water, and as the season advances, they draw into the principal rough streams, always lying in places, where they can be least easily discovered. They prefer lying upon even rock, or behind large blocks of stone, particularly such as are of a colour similar to themselves. At every rise of the river from floods, the fish move upwards, nearer the spawning places, so that no one can reckon on preserving his particular part of the river, which is the chief reason of the universal destruction of those valuable animals. Previous to a flood, the fish frequently leap out of the water, either for the purpose of filling their air bladder, to make them more buoyant for travelling; or from excitement; or perhaps to exercise their powers of ascending heights and cataracts in the course of their journey upwards. Mr. Yarrell places their power of leaping at ten or twelve feet perpendicularly, but I do not think I ever saw one spring out of the water above five or six feet. Large fish can spring much higher than small ones; but their powers are limited or augmented, according to the depth of water they spring from. They rise rapidly from the bottom of the water to the surface, by means of rowing and sculling, as it were, with their fins and tails; and this powerful impetus bears them upwards in the air, on the same principle that a few tugs of the oar make a boat shoot onwards, after one has ceased to row.
The fish pass every practicable obstruction till they arrive at the spawning ground; some early, some late in the season. The principal spawning months are December, January, and February; but in some rivers the season is much earlier.