Life of a Chalkstream: September 2025

Friday, 12 September 2025

Can badgers swim?

Life on a Chalkstream

Greetings!

The answer is badly. It was late at night last week when a huge splash, followed by frantic scrambling and sploshing emanated from the mill pond below my bedroom window. I knew at once it was something out of the ordinary. Otters enter the water with a ‘plop’ followed by silence, but this sounded more like a dog leaping in and since I do not have a dog it demanded a look.

At first all I saw was the stirred-up water until my torch beam picked out this huge, I assumed, otter as it dragged itself, with much commotion, through the reed bed onto the bank. But rather than galloping off, with that strange, back arching run typical of otters, this bedraggled creature seemed totally nonplussed, disorientated and unsure what to do next. I must admit I was baffled by the wet, slick fur. It was too big to be an otter, and it was certainly not a deer, dog or fox. But then it turned around, the white striped face explaining all, its eyes following my torch beam until it shook itself and ran off into the darkness.

Note claws more suited to digging than swimming!

We definitely have plenty of badger visits at the moment though whether it is one badger or more I cannot tell. However, what I do know is that they are snuffling up fallen fruit but most of all digging up the ground in search of their favoured food, wasp nests. Every morning there are scrapes aplenty and we had a missive from our neighbours, the church, to warn parishioners of unexpected holes around the graveyard. My guess is that this particular badger was roaming around the grounds and, since badgers have notoriously bad eyesight, fell off the bridge or walked straight off the bank edge into the water.

A sad end to a mighty eel

Talking about favoured foods, on the morning after the badger swim the night before, our river keeper Charley appeared with this headless eel, found in the stream.

In all my years this is by far the largest eel I have seen, alive or dead at The Mill. In fact, we all felt sort of sad for at something close to 30 inches long, with a thick, healthy body, this eel must have been in the region of 25 years old. about to start the 4,000 mile, one year return journey to the place of his birth, the Sargasso Sea, to spawn.

I am not sure why the otter, for this is most certainly an otter kill, did not eat the whole eel. My guess, having seen an array of half eaten fish recently, is that it may be the mother teaching her pup to hunt and eat. But the eel was not entirely wasted as we had returned the corpse to the stream and the following morning it was gone. Otters are, despite a common belief to the contrary, lovers of carrion which allows for maximum reward for minimum effort.

A letter to our new Environment Secretary of State, Emma Reynolds

Dear Emma,

Welcome to the Department of Environment, Farming and Rural Affairs! I am pretty sure that when you started last week as a junior Treasury Minister you did not expect to end it with a seat around the Cabinet table, but such are the vicissitudes of a political life.

I am certain you were welcomed to your new office in the Seacole Building by a civil service team who were slick and practiced in briefing their new boss. And well they should be – you are their sixth Secretary of State in the past three years. I am sure they, like me, reviewed your CV to find out a bit more about you and what perhaps led the Prime Minister to pick you for this role.

Your predecessor Steve Reed often teased as ‘City Steve’ by his Opposition Shadow seemed to lack any rural or environmental hinterland to his life either parliamentary or personal. In truth, your background with government stints at the Treasury, work as a financial sector lobbyist and personal interests listed as running, playing football and enjoys pubs and going to the cinema suggest you are not too different to Reed. However, your constituency Wycombe, on the western outskirts of London in Buckinghamshire is a little bit greener than that of Reed’s Croydon, and even contains an excellent chalkstream in the River Wye, which is on the Fishing Breaks roster. You are welcome anytime.

Emma Reynolds MP

As to why the PM picked you my guess lies in your financial nous, what with all the many disaster scenarios that loom for Thames Water and that part of your brief in general. As to farming and rural affairs prepare to be love bombed by your next-door neighbours on Marsham Street, the National Farmers Union. Have a flick though the Princess of Wales style book for that sophisticated, country look for you will inevitably be guest of honour at the Royal Agricultural Shows, will make the keynote speech at the NFU annual conference and have a photoshoot with the cuddly, acceptable face of farming Kaleb Cooper (no relation) of Clarkson’s Farm fame. Farmers will, of course, treat you with a certain reserve as you were part of the Treasury team that has changed the tax rules for farming.

My advice? Treat the whining and whinging from both water industry and the farming industry with equal disdain. Both want maximum returns for minimum environmental oversight or cost. Remember two thirds of all river pollution is caused by these two industries combined, with farming the slightly worse offender. My wish? That you take up the opportunity offered to Steve Reed by the Cunliffe Report to relieve the Environment Agency, Natural England plus any other quango with a finger in the pie of all oversight for water quality, creating a new agency that has no concern for cost but simply a brief to deliver pure water, pursuing polluters of all stripes until they conform to the standards that will bring back rivers in which nature thrives and humans can safely swim.

The Music Temple on the lake at West Wycombe Park fed by the Buckinghamshire River Wye

That was the month that was August

Well, it finally rained at the end of August not that it made much difference to the final data for the month. The wettest region was the South-west at 59% of average monthly rainfall with the Central and East regions tying as the driest at 30%. September has started well, with over a quarter of monthly rain arriving in the first two days but we have a way to go to catch up on the current deficit of 3 inches on annual rainfall of 39 inches.

Rivers-wise the limestone rivers such at the Gloucestershire Coln and the Derbyshire Dove are really suffering, as are the headwaters of all the major chalkstreams, plus standalone smaller rivers such as the Meon in East Hampshire or the Piddle in Dorset. However, lower down the systems you would be hard pushed to detect evidence of a drought if you were coming at the rivers for the first time.

Well done to our monthly feedback draw winner who in August was Jarvis Humby, fishing at School Farm on the River Dun. I hope the flies bring you better luck next time, Jarvis!

Four of the ten (two bonus flies this month!) for September from our vice master Nigel Nunn. www.nigelnunnflies.com

Quiz

The usual random collection of questions this week inspired by the date and topics today.

1) What battle took place on this day in 490 BC from which an athletic race takes its name?

2) In The Wind in the Willows, where did Badger live?

3) Why are eels diadromous?

Answers are at the bottom of this Newsletter.

Have a good weekend.

Best wishes,

Simon Cooper simon@fishingbreaks.co.uk

Founder & Managing Directorwww.fishingbreaks.co.uk

1) Battle of Marathon

2) In the Wild Wood

3) It is a fish that lives in both fresh and saltwater

TIME IS PRECIOUS. USE IT FISHING

The Mill, Heathman Street, Nether Wallop,

Stockbridge, England SO20 8EW United Kingdom

01264 781988

www.fishingbreaks.co.uk

Check out our social media

Kingfisher Wars

Life on a Chalkstream

Greetings!

We seem to be caught in the midst of kingfisher wars just now here at The Mill. The thing about kingfishers in flight is that you pretty well always hear them before you see them. It is like staring into the skies for a supersonic jet fighter flying overhead; hear the noise and look ahead.

Just recently there has been a pair who chase each other relentlessly in an apparently never-ending turf war, jinking like Spitfires over the water as, accompanied by their distinctive shrill, rat-a-tat-tat battle cry they pursue each other in close formation. I suspect this is a good year to be a kingfisher as the two past wet years have seen a huge spike in the fish population; I have never seen so many juvenile brown trout in the Wallop Brook accompanied by shoals of minnow and sticklebacks, the preferred food of kingfishers.

On Saturday I heard, then saw the battle close up, albeit briefly, as a third kingfisher joined the dogfight, the trio choosing to use the umbrella under which I lay as the pivot point in the pursuit – I could have touched them if I had stretched up my arm as they came between me and the parasol canopy. In fact, as I uselessly did just that long after they departed, I caught sight of the kingfisher scar on the back of my left hand.

Many years ago, the late Jaffa, long time resident orange cat and killer of all things regardless of colour, creed or species came into the house one day with a kingfisher in his jaws. The bird was clearly far from dead and understandably angry, eventually freeing himself and then proceeded to fly around the house, chased by Jaffa and followed by me, like a streaking ball in a pinball machine bouncing off windows as he (or she) failed to negotiate the turns. Try as I might I could not open the windows fast enough until, eventually, the bird stunned itself, falling to the floor where I scooped it up in a tea towel. For a short while it was pretty docile whilst I organised its head out of the towel, body gripped by my hand whilst heading for the nearest door. However, the bird cared nothing for my Samaritan nature for it delivered a mighty stab to my hand. Despite this I hung on, got it outside where I put the ungrateful bird on a table. For about five seconds it looked at me, looked around and then, with the inevitable flash, was gone.

As far as I can recall we have always had plenty of kingfishers here; their piercing call is one of the consistent soundtracks of living at The Mill and our many bodies of water – the lake, mill pond, brook and side streams are fertile hunting territory for them. In addition, some years ago a huge alder tree was blown over in a storm, exposing a root ball that stands at least fifteen feet high which is kingfisher nest heaven. Kingfishers are prolific nest builders, requiring a new one for each of the two or three broods each year.

Nests are tunnels, as much as three feet long, dug into a bank. The process is laborious with the bird flying beak first (I can attend to the strength of that beak …..) into the soil to break the crust and make an impression. Once there is a small ledge on which to perch the kingfisher will dig further, first with the beak and later, once the whole body is in the tunnel, use feet to kick the soil back. At the end a small cavity will be lined with the coughed up indigestible remains of the kingfisher fish diet. It is for this reason, and the fish diet for the chicks, that nests are single use only soon becoming far too fishy!

Bountiful mellow fruitfulness

I can tell you with 100% certainty that we are in for the harshest, of harsh winters. How do I foresee the future? The hawthorn bushes are laden down with red berries, branches often bent to the point of breaking such is the crop each year. Country folklore tells us that such abundance only comes ahead of a bad winter.

I can only assume for the bird and animal population that hawthorn berries are the most unpleasant of all food options. You never see any creature feeding on them at this time of year. In fact, they only start to be eaten when all other food options are exhausted in in the New Year and I suspect that will be a while coming as this has been the most remarkable season for wild berries and fruit.

Haw berries

Foraging in the hedgerows this month it feels that we are maybe 3-4 weeks ahead of any normal year; the late August English countryside has a distinct feel of mid-September, almost autumnal, with neatly all crops way ahead of the usual cadence of things. Blackberries, crab apples, damsons, elderberries and hops, to name just a few, are all in superabundance and of prime quality. I have even broken out my foragers book through with mixed success. Blackberry cordial – a triumph. Elderberry cordial – less so. Sloe syrup – a never to be repeated experiment; a lot of faff for astringency in a jar.

I have toyed with the idea of trying with the hawthorn fruit – haw berries as the books like to call them. But you know that when the most common recipe the internet gives you is a chutney, haws are probably a lost cause. I did find something from Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall but when the best he can suggest is a sweet and sour recipe, amusingly (sic) called Haw-sin sauce you need to take your lead from the birds and reserve haw berries for the most desperate of times.

Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it is rain!

It is a bit of a shock to finally see some rain in the forecast and then to actually see something falling from the heavens, as happened to me on the Itchen yesterday. This year, as you know, is a complete volte face on last, the record rains of 2024 mercifully filling the subterranean aquifers to the brim those water reserves saving the chalkstreams from the worst of the 2025 drought though the river flow data is all over the place.

My executive summary would be that the limestone rivers, that rely on both on aquifers plus regular rain, are really struggling. On the chalkstreams it is a mixed picture with some headwaters and small tributaries suffering whilst the main rivers are fine. Here is a brief rundown from around the counties.

I'm fishin' in the rain ......

In Berkshire the Kennet and tributaries are experiencing normal flows. In Dorset flows for the River Piddle are normal but flows for the Frome are low. In Hampshire the River Test is generally normal, as is the Dun whilst the Wallop Brook is low, and as low as I have ever seen it in 25 years. It is a very similar pattern on the River Itchen though the tributaries high up the system such as the Candover Brook and Alre, which you might expect to be low, are normal. The River Meon is low until its final one third as it approaches the sea. In Wiltshire the River Nadder is normal, the Avon low above Salisbury and normal once well downstream of Salisbury. In Yorkshire the Driffield Beck is low.

Across all the counties the aquifers are at normal levels for the time of year which is reassuring as it will only take normal winter rain to make up for this dry year. I suppose the question that might be asked is whether the rain this week or in September will make any difference. For the limestone streams such as the Gloucestershire Coln or Derbyshire Dove most definitely but the impact on the chalkstreams will be helpful but not significant as generally 80% of the water you see in a chalkstream is spring fed. However, deluges are useful as they provide a useful ‘flush’ especially in summer to move on blanket weed and sediment build up on the gravel beds.