Still hooked on the opening day of the fishing season

Feb 26 2008 by Moc Morgan, Western Mail

OPENING anything – from a gala concert to a tin of sardines – must be done correctly if you are to enjoy what is to follow. It is especially true of a fishing season if you are to derive the utmost pleasure from being out there on the opening day.

The all-important date on the River Teifi this year is March 3 and preparations are well in hand so that one can enjoy not only the day’s experience but what will follow for the rest of the season.

It is often said that travelling to somewhere gives more joy than the actual arriving. My wait for the opening of the 2008 fishing season has been long and dreary as I have tried to tidy up my fishing tackle. Getting all the documents ready has also helped to bring the opening day closer.

The time when “mitching” school and getting “doctor’s papers” is long gone and if there is any bonus in becoming a member of the free bus-pass brigade then it must be the disappearance of the timetable and the school bell.

Not that mitching school was a serious drawback for me, as my fishing partner in my county- school days was Dewi Powell whose brother SM Powell was headmaster of the school. I did quite well until SM retired!

Being out on opening day has always been important. It gives one the opportunity of meeting up with like-minded friends and also to visit one’s favourite beats on the river – and thankfully the march of time has not had too detrimental an effect on either of those. Last year I really enjoyed opening day!

I recall sitting down on the river bank to have a cup of coffee and munch a Welsh cake as I took in the entire aquatic environment – my, how enjoyable an outdoor snack is! The weak spring sun had produced a few flies of the olive family – the early spring olives that tend to be about early in the year.

I looked across the run out of the pool to the riffle below and to my surprise I saw an otter coming upriver on the far side. It was busy searching for something in the weeds that carpeted parts of the river bed. I watched for quite some time afraid to move as I did not want to see it disappearing.

What delightful creatures otters are – and I honestly believe they have a sense of humour as he suddenly gave me a cursory glance, at which time I expected him to dive into the water and swim away. Not a bit of it. He merely ignored me – the intruder – and went about his business.

I decided to follow suit. Just above me was a good glide and I decided to cast my dry fly out over the neck of the glide. As I watched the fly come sailing down with the slow current, I saw a trout come up and the fly vanished. Had the trout taken it?

I tightened but nothing happened. I realised the fish had not been hooked. Did he miss my fly or had I missed him – I was not sure – after all we were both out of practice.

When such things happen, I always rest the fish and try again some 10 minutes later. I looked in the fly-box and chose a fly called the Sun Fly. This fly has a great pedigree having served me well in all rivers of the UK. It has travelled well too and worked well in places like Australasia and Scandinavia.

It was a fly born in Doldre – a part Tregaron – and was the brainchild of Dai Lewis. Over the years I have always been saddened to see the Sun Fly attributed to the late Vicar Powell but was delighted lately to read in a new book entitled The Orange Otter – a book written about Vicar Powell – that Dai Lewis was given the true ownership of this fantastic fly.

I cast out again and the trout came up for the fly. As I tightened the line I felt the weight of the fish.

It was a nice fish in good condition and as I released it I noticed a scar on its side. What had caused it I wondered – a cormorant, gooseander or perhaps my friend the otter that I had watched with fascination a little earlier.

I wished it well as I released it back into the wild. It swam away and I’m sure that both he and I felt that life can be kind – even to the most undeserving.