Another fishy tale

I think today we will be moving on, the weather is not good and Pat is getting bored, there is no-one to talk to, the shops are ten miles away and I have been fishing every day. Paradise for many a bloke.

Having said that, I think that this weekend will see the campsite overrun with children and holiday makers. Wednesday I walked the river bank for about a mile, checking out where the big fish might be, I found many a likely looking spot but saw only mullet and lots of them. I fished a spot where the Dwyfach and Dwyfor join for a couple of hours but apart from a couple of kingfishers I had no entertainment. On my return to the campsite I went to fish the pool at the top of the field and the action was none stop. I caught ten fish in just over an hour, at last I seemed to be getting it together.

Needless to say, I went to bed feeling very pleased with myself. Thursday, I went out to the same spot at the same time with exactly the same set up and caught one fish in about two hours. So how does that work? I tried different flies and techniques, the fish were rising continually but the word was clearly out that Taylor the trout basher was about. So it seems to me that I still have a great deal to learn about trout and this fly fishing game. Perhaps I am in need of a mentor, someone who knows my frustrations and pleasure. When I go out on these little forays I would love to take my proper camera with me, I do see some great potential shots but it is my luck that I would take an untimely swim and ruin my pride and joy.