Making light work of meadow rushes

 

Greetings!   I was out and about on the lower sections of the Test Valley last week; it is sort of scorched earth territory at this time of year. Nothing is growing. Trees are gaunt. The river reflects blankly back at you. The sheep, our sole animal companions for the past few months are gone, the grass trimmed better than any mower might do but with exceptions.   It is funny what cattle and livestock will not eat. How is it they know ragwort is poisonous, nibbling within a fraction of the stem but never touching it? What is wrong with the dark green grass that grows verdant on ground previously fertilised by manure? Plenty of humans like nettles, but apparently not any of the herbivores. And the common soft rush is most definitely, growth non grata, untouched clumps peppering the shorn water meadows like tumbleweed on a desert landscape.

 

I was reminded of these clumps a few days later when reading an extract from a letter by the 18th century naturalist Gilbert White who wrote to a companion to document the vital task performed by these rushes in providing both income and light to what he called ‘decayed labourers, women and children’ who sustained a craft industry transforming the rushes into candles that would burn as bright lights for over an hour.   It was quite a process but with no shortage a material: a pound of rushes would be enough for 1,600 candles best harvested in late summer, the cut reeds flung in water before being stripped by hand, which seems from his description, an acquired skill and not one I have been able to replicate. Once stripped the rushes were to be laid out on grass to dry for a few days, weirdly best if taking on a few nightly dews, before being sun dried.   The final part of the process was to dip the rushes in grease which, according to White, was obtained by ‘the careful wife of an industrious Hampshire labourer obtaining her fat for nothing from the scummings of her bacon-pot.” A pound of rushes would be enough to light the labourers’ family home for a year or if sold they were in much demand providing eleven hours of light for the same cost as a two hour candle.

 

Rushlight and maybe the origin of 'burning the candle at both ends'

 

 

Why are farmed salmon not triploid?   I do not think there is any doubt that the tide of public opinion is turning against farmed salmon, an industry that is less than a lifetime old but in that short time has helped bring million of years of evolutionary success to an almost grinding halt. It is ironical since, in the early years, many hoped that farmed salmon would be the salvation of wild salmon, reducing the pressure on natural stocks. What fools we were.   The charges against farmed salmon are manifold: Pollution. Sea lice. Poor husbandry. Chemical use. Inferior product. Damaging the gene pool by breeding with the wild salmon. It is this last one that has got me pondering of late. We, on rivers and lakes, have been forced to stock only triploid i.e. infertile trout to protect the natural stocks. I am not pretending this directive by the Environment Agency some 15 years ago was popular, or even justified, but it is the law. Why, I ask myself, does not the same apply to salmon farmers who continue to rear fully fertile salmon which regularly escape, sometime in huge numbers, from their cages.

 

I have asked this same question to two eminent people in the industry, one the head of a major wild fish conservation charity and the other one the UK’s longest established fish farmers; neither could answer the question. What I do know is the barrier cannot be cost or practicality; triploiding fish eggs in their hundreds of thousands is neither difficult or expensive. Does anyone out there know why the salmon industry should not be forced to apply the same standards as everyone else?     Beavers and wolves   Over the weekend the rewilding zealots on X lit up with the exciting news that beavers had arrived on the upper reaches of the River Wylye in Wiltshire, spotted where the river runs through the Longleat Estate.   Of course the Longleat social media was all over this though, and far be it for me to be as equally cynical as some who commented, but the exhortation by the marketing team for all to come to see their new arrivals was slightly marred by the link that directed you to the Longleat ticketing section at the cost of £42 for an adult and £23 for a child. There is clearly money in giant rodents.

 

I am sorry I cannot feel the love for beavers – I have long held that they are not the new Messiahs who are going to save the British countryside from climate change. Indeed, as with the introduction of the White clawed crayfish, Grey squirrel, Coypu and many other non-native species I feel sure we will rue the day back in 2015 when Liz Truss as Secretary of State at Defra legitimised their illegal release. In fact, the same day as the Longleat beavers became PR fodder The Telegraph newspaper carried the headline, EU wolf climbdown has Dutch farmers reaching for their guns.   The story is that wolves having been pretty well be driven to extinction across Europe, were given strict protection status across the EU in 1982, finally returning to Netherlands in 2015 with nine packs now roaming the country. These have been responsible for an increasing number of attacks on livestock and tame animals including the pony of EU President Ursula von der Leyen in Germany. The upshot is that the EU will, from March onwards, allow member states to determine wolf culling policy.  Will we ever reach such an inflection point with beavers? I think in terms of causing more damage than benefit most certainly, and probably as soon as by the end of this decade. But culling? I very much doubt that, ever. Beavers have the highest protection status to such an extent that you cannot even touch a dam, even on your own property, once it has been in existence for more than 14 days. It is madness, but it is where we are. Thanks Liz.

 

 

Last minute Season Rods   I have some last minute Season Rod vacancies on the rivers Kennet, Test and Wye.   Benham Estate – River Kennet Many of you will be familiar with our Park beat, over 3 miles of fishing on main river, side streams and carriers keepered by Gary Allen. A Full Rod at £2,765 allows fishing every day of the week. A Shared Rod at £1,790 allows fishing one day a week with the option to share the Rod but with only one person attending on the day. The fishery is closed to Season Rods on Thursdays. Details ....   Island Farms – River Test NEW Join a small group of ten syndicate members at most, plus one or two day rods, with the ability to fish every day of the season including weed cuts as Island Farms is immediately below the River Test weed boom a mile upstream of Romsey. The fishing extends over 3 miles, The season runs April 17-September with a Rod costing £3,570. Details ....   West Wycombe Estate – River Wye The Buckinghamshire Wye is the clearest of clear chalkstreams running through the grounds of the magnificent West Wycombe Park, with fishing on both the river and lake. The lake has the added bonus of boats and the Temple Island as the grandest of locations for a picnic lunch. Fish a nominated day each week. Currently there are slots available on all days except Friday. The cost of a Rod is £1,440 for a day a week April-September. Details ....

 

West Wycombe lake and Music Temple Island

 

 

Quiz   Back to the normal random collection of questions inspired by the events that took place on this date in history or topics in the Newsletter.   1)       Which Irish band released its first No. 1 UK album on this day in 1983?   2)       In Roman mythology which twins were raised by a wolf?  3)       Where is the ancestral home of Ceawlin Henry Laszlo Thynn, 8th Marquess of Bath?   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)       U2 2)       Romulus and Remus 3)       Longleat House

 

The cunning of crows & moles

 

Greetings!   Is it a murder of crows they call a flock of the black birds? Well, if it is, I could certainly have come to that in the past few predawn mornings this week as I have been bought awake by some cawing of epic proportions.   I may have told you before, but the gable end double height glazed wall to the bedroom that occupies the top floor of The Mill was something of an obsession for the architect who persuaded me that such fripperies as curtains would, in true modernist speak, damage the aesthetic.

 

In that, the late Huw Thomas, a beloved architect of our current King, was correct. At night I have a magnificent view of the stars, those of the shooting variety a common sight. In fact, a couple of years ago one came so close I was convinced it that come to earth in the field adjacent to the lake. I did wander out the following morning in the hopeless hope of finding some scorched puncture in the meadow, but unsurprisingly, to no avail. Actually, I knew it was hopeless but I have found a meteorite here before. When we were excavating into the slope of the downland opposite The Mill to build the office the digger exposed in the bright whiteness of the chalk a meteorite that had penetrated deep into the surface. had left a damaged trail through the otherwise perfect chalk to the iron meteorite itself, the size of a large apple, from which radiated a rusted aura staining the chalk around this celestial arrival of probably many millions of years ago.    Of course, the flip side to the stars at night is the sun at dawn so I have little need for an alarm clock, especially when the crows are in their current mood. I could not believe it on the first morning as the flock, high in the skies, just kept coming and coming. I have no way of counting but the murder, travelling west to east, filled the sky for some minutes both as one huge, continuous moving group plus straggler groups following the same path, apparently joining from some slightly different direction. I hesitate to say it was thousands of birds, but it had to have been, them all cawing back and forth to each other as they travelled in some purposeful direction but to where, I do not know.   It seems this flocking in large numbers is something crows typically do, gathering before dawn to head to the feeding spots, the congregation a giant morning mix-in that exchanges information as to where those best feeding spots are. Clearly at this time of year, when crops are limited so will be the options for the crows which may explain why I have only seen them for three consecutive days. Today, there was not a crow to be seen. I guess they have ravaged all there is to ravage and headed off in a different direction.

 

 

Of molehills and men .....   I think you might agree this looks like the ultimate f**k you from the mole who has managed, somehow, to perch the unsprung mole trap atop a newly minted molehill.   I must admit I do not get much pleasure in trapping moles but these days the options are limited. All the chemical treatments are restricted to trained operators and what we used to call ‘mole bombs’ that smoked out the runs are long banned. We do have a mole trapper in the village, who seems to be on permanent contract to the graveyard, but since he traps like I do, employing him seems a bit of a cop out.

 

Trapping moles is far from rocket science. Simply locate the underground burrow (run) between two molehills using a thin spike, the run is usually just beneath the turf. Then use a trowel to cut a slot in the turf, before putting your fingers into the burrow to ascertain the precise direction of the run. At this point I will let you into the super mole catcher secret: before inserting the trap use a wooden T-handle to tamp down the floor of the run and smooth the sides, the thought process being that the mole, appreciating the easy passage, will be guided more easily into the jaws of the trap. To that point, insert the trap into the run precisely aligned with the direction of travel.   The final action is to keep out the light from the run. Do not cover the slot with soil which will otherwise spill onto the trap and reduce its effectiveness. Instead, use some matted grass to form a carpet over the trap and around the handles. Once you are sure it is non-permeable cover with loose soil. At this point you are done excepting leaving a stick to mark the position of your trap.   There are all sorts of myths surrounding mole catching: age new traps. Use odourless oil to lubricate traps. Wear gloves. Do not wear gloves. A new moon is the catching moon. It is a long list. I, for one, wear gloves pretending that I am masking my smell but in fact it is just for keeping my hands clean for our village mole man, many more times effective with the moles than me, never wears gloves.     And then there were about five   Yes, it has happened, our lakes have been stripped of trout. With well over a hundred before Christmas we are now down to a handful of jabbering wrecks.   With all other food sources at an annual low point, the two otter pups who are on the way to adulthood, who I assume are the remnants of the summer family, are old and skilled enough to plunder the lake nightly. If you do the maths you can see how the numbers quickly diminish: we are 45 days on from Christmas. Each otter eats two fish a night …….   Do I get angry or frustrated? Not really. I got a little sad a few weeks back when our special blue rainbow, a two year survivor, was left dead, abandoned and uneaten on the bank. Odd that the otters would not eat it; they never leave any others. But on the whole I just view it as the cycle of life that some must die for others to live. And it keeps the fish farmer in a job!

 

Sole survivor .......

 

 

Quiz   Back to the normal random collection of questions inspired by the events that took place on this date in history or topics in the Newsletter.   Answers are at the bottom of this Newsletter.   1)       Who beat British heavyweight boxing champion Joe Bugner in Las Vegas on this day in 1973?   2)       What is the average lifespan on a crow in years? A) 3  B) 5  C) 7  D) 9   3)       Which country took the impact of the largest asteroid to ever hit Earth?

 

Have a good weekend.  Best wishes,

 

 

Simon Cooper simon@fishingbreaks.co.uk Founder & Managing Directorwww.fishingbreaks.co.uk

 

 

1)       Muhammad Ali 2)       7 years 3)       What is now South Africa c. 2 billion years ago