New series: David Pilkington, renowned instructor at The Arundell hotel, begins his fishing year amid flood and rebirth
THE WIND AND RAIN OF RECENT storms mean that, apart from a spot of fairly optimistic grayling fishing, there is not much serious fly sport afoot in the Westcountry right now, with our aspirations firmly focused on whatever the approaching season may bring. So I hope readers will allow me a brief indulgence in nostalgia to talk of things happening at this time in 1967, when I started work as a trainee bailiff for Cornwall River Authority.
I oozed innocence but was consumed by my love of all things fishy, eagerly devouring knowledge of the world of wonders I had entered. In those far-off days, the CRA operated a serious programme of trapping, holding and stripping salmon, laying down a mind-boggling one million salmon eggs at Endsleigh Hatchery each winter.
In the spring, newly hatched salmon were planted in “nursery streams” as unfed fry, and one of my first jobs was to assist the bailiffs to prepare these streams, firstly by removing trout and eels (which would eat the fry) by electro-fishing, or “stunning”.
It was a great day out, commencing with a bumpy ride in a canvas-canopied Land Rover that had a turning circle of ten acres. The electricity that stunned the fish came from a little Briggs and Stratton engine, with two reels of cable, which required two men to carry it across the rough terrain.
The direct current this machine generated was impressive, drawing the fish irresistibly towards the positive electrode, the “stunning pole”, with the note of the engine deepening each time the pole was plunged into the water. George Rundle, head bailiff, wielded the pole, working upstream, closely followed by Francis Bartlett, the Camel bailiff, who deftly netted the stunned fish. These were transferred into a steel can, carried by me, a slight 16-year-old. Amazingly, the fish rapidly recovered and were taken in an oxygenated tank for release into a nearby river. The unfed fry, yolks sacs mostly finished, were released into the nursery streams. I often wondered how successful this actually was.
Fast forward to today and Endsleigh Hatchery lies abandoned, with efforts now focused on getting the habitat in good order for the fish to spawn and survive naturally.
Out on the rivers, bank maintenance is ongoing, whenever the rivers are low enough for safe working, and the ground is dry enough for the truck. Nice it may be to see a river in its totally natural state, but if a few overhanging limbs are not trimmed, the waters would soon be unfishable. We work hard to retain shade over pools, and to keep as much woody debris as possible in the water.
All the steps, stiles and footbridges must
