Nether Wallop Mill Friday August 10th 2018
I have to admit we have been
lucky this year on the chalkstreams. A wet winter and a wetter spring that came
right on into April filled the aquifers to brimming and beyond. We were still
struggling to mow wet bank sides as late as June. But this extended heat wave
has taken its toll however hard the springs naturally pump. Evaporation is a
potent force. In addition trees, believe it or not, are massive extractors of
water. Back in the 1990's, when two extended dry years bought our rivers to
their knees, there was a serious proposal to create a tree free corridor of 25
yards in width. Someone, I can't recall who, had calculated a massive water
saving by way of this deforestation, though I suspect the proposed cure would
have been worse that the disease itself.
So what to do? Well, to
start with we mustn't fall back on climate change. This has become something of
a catch all excuse used by government and business. A good way of deflecting.
Suggesting that the solution is beyond local means. A problem requiring
international cooperation. It is a sort of intellectual shrug of the shoulders.
Southern Water by the way have a document, a requirement of government, that
runs to dozens of pages outlining how they will 'cope' with climate change for
the next fifty years. I don't like to be cynical but they didn't see this year
coming......
I have known Feargal a
little over the years, largely through a common friendship with Terry Griffiths
who was best known for being one of Britain's most accomplished fly tyers and
as a photographer of flies. The latter might not seem so difficult, but it truly
is. Terry had perfected a technique that made the flies 'float' off the page,
every strand and feather in perfect focus.
The BBC
news carried a piece last week about the dire water levels in the English and
Welsh reservoirs, along with a map to illustrate their various locations. I was
transfixed by the map, so much so that I pressed hold. A notion was biting
inside my head but I couldn't quite work out why or how. There was something
horribly familiar about the map. What? And then it struck me. My eye wasn't
being draw to the locations of the reservoirs but rather the blank areas where
there were none. If you compare reservoir map with the chalkstream map you will
see what I mean: where there are chalkstreams there are no reservoirs.
Somebody, for that read water companies, have been getting a free ride on the
back on a fragile resource for far too long.
I have to admit we have been
lucky this year on the chalkstreams. A wet winter and a wetter spring that came
right on into April filled the aquifers to brimming and beyond. We were still
struggling to mow wet bank sides as late as June. But this extended heat wave
has taken its toll however hard the springs naturally pump. Evaporation is a
potent force. In addition trees, believe it or not, are massive extractors of
water. Back in the 1990's, when two extended dry years bought our rivers to
their knees, there was a serious proposal to create a tree free corridor of 25
yards in width. Someone, I can't recall who, had calculated a massive water
saving by way of this deforestation, though I suspect the proposed cure would
have been worse that the disease itself.
Aside from nature there is a
certain amount of agricultural irrigation that deplete the chalkstreams but in
the end, whichever way you cut it, it is the water companies, who bore deep
into the ground for ever scarcer supplies, to fulfil ever rising demand, that
are the water thieves. Now you can't blame them.
It is what they are tasked
to do. They are protected and encouraged by parliamentary statute. Occasionally
the scales tip against them, most recently in the case of Southern Water plc
who lost out in court in their attempt to pump water from the River Test
catchment to supplement supplies for homes and businesses in the River Itchen
catchment. They are said to be looking at desalination and reservoir options.
We will see.
So what to do? Well, to
start with we mustn't fall back on climate change. This has become something of
a catch all excuse used by government and business. A good way of deflecting.
Suggesting that the solution is beyond local means. A problem requiring
international cooperation. It is a sort of intellectual shrug of the shoulders.
Southern Water by the way have a document, a requirement of government, that
runs to dozens of pages outlining how they will 'cope' with climate change for
the next fifty years. I don't like to be cynical but they didn't see this year
coming......
But the problem is that the
problem has little to do with global weather patterns but everything to do with
local water supply and demand. If the population and water use of southern
England stood today at the same levels of 50 years ago we would have no
shortages. Our aquifers wouldn't be sucked dry each summer. The headwaters, now
August empty, would flow fast and clear. For the fact is that over the past 50
years the amount of rain that falls each year has remained remarkably
consistent. That giant chalk sponge continues to absorb rainfall as it has done
for millions of years. The aquifers still fill as much as their geology will
allow.
But then we abuse Mother
Nature. Suck out more than our fair share. Take the easy option when, if we
truly, really, want to preserve our chalkstreams we should legislate to force
the water companies to pay more and take less of something that didn't actually
belong to them in the first place.
We need to claim back what
belongs to us.
.
5 MINUTE INTERVIEW
Trout & Salmon have introduced many new features to the new look magazine and one
that caught my eye in the July Issue was the '5 Minute Interview' with Feargal
Sharkey, lead singer of The Undertones.
I have known Feargal a
little over the years, largely through a common friendship with Terry Griffiths
who was best known for being one of Britain's most accomplished fly tyers and
as a photographer of flies. The latter might not seem so difficult, but it truly
is. Terry had perfected a technique that made the flies 'float' off the page,
every strand and feather in perfect focus.
What
is less well known is that Terry was an amazing graphics guy; the iconic
Fishing Breaks brochures that have featured the reflected fish in sunglasses,
the chalkstream signpost and the fly floating on mercury were all down to him.
It was two years
ago this month that Terry died so when I read Feargal recounting a memorable
day with Terry at Bullington Manor it made me glad to know them both.
July feedback draw winner
What a month ... July will remain seared (good choice of word I
think) in our collective memories for many years to come.
The last
comparator was 1976 but 2018 has been of a very different order. The Wallop
Brook that feeds our lake here at The Mill, all but dried up back then. The
lake actually did. Unfortunately I can't lay my hands on it for the moment but
there is a shot of Charles Jardine and Jim Hadrell, resident instructors,
standing on the dry bed of the lake that is cracked like a scene out of Death
Valley.
I know I said
something similar last month but both the rivers and fishing held up
surprisingly well. Hatches have been steady with dry fly the order of most
days.
Well done to
Tony Pollard and his son who fished Bullington Manor on July 13th.
The Fishing Breaks snood is on its way. Everyone else back in the hat for the
end-of-season Simms pliers draw.
More Special Offer for August
Such was the success of the first tranche of Special Offers that I
have added more to fill the demand.
2 FOR 1 Book two rods for the
price of one. £147 (was £294). August 18th-31st.
HALF
PRICE One
Rod £42.50 (was £85). Two Rods £75 (was £150). August 10th-31st.
2 FOR 1 Book two rods for the price
of one. £150 (was £300). August 24th-31st.
Quiz
More
chances to prove, or improve, your intellect. Answers, as ever, at the
bottom of the page.
1) Why did the
Met Office rescind an all time national temperature high for Scotland of 33.2 °C
recorded at Motherwell, Strathclyde Park on June 28th?
2) Who was the Greek god of the Sun? And an Orvis fishing
rod .....
3) What is an
Astronomical Unit?
Enjoy the weekend.
Best wishes,
Simon Cooper simon@fishingbreaks.co.uk
Founder & Managing Director
Quiz answers:
1) A car with an running
engine, presumably belonging to the station operator keeping cool (!) judging
by the opaqueness of the Met Office press release, was parked too close to the
recording device during the afternoon in question.
2) Helios
3) Light travels
at a speed of 186,287 miles per second. It takes 499 seconds
for light to travel from the Sun to the Earth, a distance called 1
Astronomical Unit.
The truth is it was the prospect of 10 hours on a plane. A need to have a fix of the English summer to carry me through the bland anonymity of international air travel. A chance to know with absolute certainty that as the southern counties fast receded beneath the wing tips I'd grabbed a last smell and feel of summer to take on my journey. Actually I had rather too much of the latter laying out in my seat: my legs had that tingly itch which can mean only one culprit - stinging nettles. It was my own fault. Wet wading in thin trousers with Adidas windsurfing shoes which are on the plus side light, comfortable and easy to walk in. On the minus side the drainage holes offer perfect access to nettle barbs. But with the HiLux pickup temperature gauge still registering 25c at sunset there was no way I was going to don proper waders.
The river here is not for the faint hearted. If you want to get back to nature chalkstream-style this is the place to come. A river that is untended. Period. What you see is what Mother Nature gave us. Weed cutting, such as it is, is done by the swans. Bank management by the changing of the seasons. The open water - the bits that are (relatively) easy to cast into - is impossibly skinny. To borrow from the Blackadder book of frustrations: so skinny that even the skinniest supermodel would accuse it of being too skinny. The most delicate cast scatters previously unseen fish in all directions. It is hard to understand how any fish could lie unseen in such thin water, but I fail to spot each and every one. But, as I remind myself, I am here for something more than the fishing. And it is rather lovely. The cool water is a soothing balm to my nettled legs. The wild mint I crush beneath my feet fills the air with spearmint. I heard not a single car. Saw no vapour trails across a clear blue sky. In fact all I saw or heard were tractors, which seems no sort of interruption at all.
The hatch pool was smaller than I remembered it. The brick walls funnelling the water into a narrow channel, with a rickety bridge above, into a deep pool, the open water the shape of a ragged artichoke with me standing just below the bulbous end, entirely surrounded by ranunculus. If you look carefully you'll notice the weed is ragged, with lots of chewed off stalks. That had me perplexed - that wasn't typically swan damage. And then out of the corner of my eye I saw this furry thing run across the bridge. At first I thought it was the most enormous rat. And then I thought maybe a tiny otter pup. But when its companion followed a moment later it was the hugest water vole I have ever seen. I had clearly disturbed them on the one bank so having crossed to the other side they barged their way though the undergrowth to take up station below me, out of sight but within earshot as I heard them in that masticating, lip smacking way that water voles have of tucking into a new crop of tasty water buttercup, for that is what ranunculus is.
If you have been hiding from the sun in the past few weeks I would not entirely blame you though perversely the fishing has been unexpectedly good; this heat is harder on the fisher than the fish.
