It's the 2nd of May and it's 80 in old money. The trees are lime. The other night I stood in the river and there were trout-sized herring exploding all around. A large striper hit my 12" herring fly like a summer grilse on the Dee. Just like a summer salmon, when I hit , it missed. My chance was gone. But Bob did better, and there's a picture of him below. Steve and Bill did very well too - all of them landing fish of over 30 inches. These fish were all fat on the herring. They tore off down river and the anglers had to give chase to keep connected. It really was world class fishing.
Today I went to the Hammonasset river for some recalibration (from family, not bass). I wanted to fish my Scottish wet flies and I put up a team of three: Bibio (top dropper), winged Greenwells Glory, and bead-head flashback PTN - a sop to my new home, and a little added weight. At the first pool the fish didn't care for my romantic ideas. They were all on the surface; midges and caddis abound. So off with the cast from the old country, and to a longer leader with a single dry. A quick rotation through caddis, tiny midge, and eventually to the captor of 6 healthy and oft acrobatic trout, a size 14 dry Adams. The quintessential American fly was the winner today, and I couldn't be happier. My new Hardy rod was Christened; a lovely soft flex, just the instrument for cushioning the take to a dry fly.
The trouble is, unlike Scotland, where spring can last, well, all summer, here in Connecticut spring 2010 is running past me at warp speed. The herring and the free flowing rivers just don't hang around long enough, if you ask me.
A happy man - Bob with a superb striper, big on river herring.
A nice cock rainbow from the Hammonasset.