First day back

Back on flowing water again.

If a tree falls in the forest… that’s a worry, especially if it’s close enough to the riffle you’re fishing that you can hear the creaking sound just before it crashes to the ground.

September storm approaching.

In a perfect world, Max and I would have commenced Victorian stream trout season 2025/26 the day before (true opening day) under much more benign conditions. But here we were, deep in the Otway Ranges on an admittedly beautiful stream, while giant mountain ash swayed ominously every time gale force northerlies pushed down towards the surface.  

Fortunately, that falling tree – which even Max heard from a few hundred metres upstream – was the only alarming moment of our stormy day on the water. Otherwise, the worst of the wind, rain and lightning bypassed us, and we were largely able to focus on the fishing.

One on the Hares Ear.

The stream was high, cold and with a bit of colour; in other words, as it should be in early September. Forty years of diaries show me that it’s usually at least October before I begin to enjoy the sort of stream fishing I dream about in the depths of winter; sometimes even later. So, for Max and me, this trip wasn’t about some childish fantasy of catching lots of gullible trout which hadn’t seen an angler for 3 months. It was more a gentle celebration of being able to actually drift a fly through flowing water again. And as Jane noted just before I departed, perhaps with a subconscious nod to decades of observing my early season trips, “Well you’re going with Max, so at least you’ll eat well.”

It's true that just being there again is enough (well, almost!) 

In the event, the fishing was worthwhile if not fantastic. Drifting dry flies with nymphs beneath – me an Elk Hair Caddis plus Hares Ear, Max a parachute Adams and Cadillac – we had enough ‘encounters’ to stay focussed. A nice trout chased but didn’t eat Max’s nymph before I’d made my first cast, and then a little later, a respectable fish briefly hovered under my Elk Hair. While that proved to be the only interest (as far as we know) in the dry, by the time a line of thunderstorms called time, we’d landed a few on the nymph, and missed a few more. A couple were good fish too, at least by Otways standards.  

A good one, if a little lean as early season fish sometimes are. Nothing a spring diet shouldn't fix! 

So, as well as enjoying the simple pleasure of stream fishing again, we were left feeling satisfied with our catch/ encounter rate – one advantage of not setting expectations too high in the first place. And yes, Max’s Lamb Shank Ragu that evening was as superb as you would expect.