Well, here we are, all returned from our trip to the UK.
We had a hard time getting there, and in fact our boat was cancelled.
At the last minute our transfer onto the Condor Clipper was approved, and we reluctantly jumped on board ship knowing full well that a 9 hour plus trip in high sea’s awaited us. We went “club class” to try to get comfortable, and in fact, because we had envisioned horrendous conditions, we where surprised to find the trip wasn’t life threatening.

However, we where extremely tired, and we’d gone to Portsmouth, and not the intended destination of Weymouth.
So, its now 7.45am, and we faced a long drive to Dorchester to compete in Weymouth Casting Clubs monthly event.

It was raining. I mean, It WAS RAINING !!. In fact, it was torrential, and i had visions of the day being abandoned as we drove through the at times, almost impossible to see conditions on the roads.

Then, a text message from Mark Jakins confirmed that the guys where indeed casting, but the weather there was worse than expected, and for us to slow down, as conditions were not likely to subside for the next few hours or so.

We eventually decided we needed food, so we went to the local cafe in Dorchester and had a sausage/egg and bacon roll. Yes, this exeeded my allowance on the diet, but to hell with it, we where starving, wet, and depressed.

The depression was to be short lived as i was soon to discover, well, at least for a little while anyway.

We arrived at Maiden Castle on the hallowed turf to see a good turnout of guys. The welsh had sent a group of guys, and all the usual suspects where present with notable exclusion of Jason, but….

The Sirs where there, Mr Jakins, Nik Price and a fair few i’d not met before, but have interacted with on this site. We where, as usual, made extremelly welcome at this premier club.

Sir Garry was ON FIRE !!

He was without doubt the man to beat, so i set about the task of setting up in the sheet rain. By this time the rod, me, the reel and everything in site was wet.
I’d brought along my Century TT-R’s and my Zziplex HST to play the day, but the rain was so hard, that i decided to take the distance loss i expected on the HST on the chin as i knew full well that i would be able to “late time” that rod in the wet to be able to hold on. As it happened i was also casting quite well, and my timing was about 90% on.

Hmmm, i set about sweeping away the guys i usually compete with in search of the higher prize.

I finished that day with a cast of 246 meters on the 150g sinker. I’m still not 100% sure where i finished exactly, but it was top 3 or 4 i guess, but those above me where within touching distance.
I took some big scalps on the day, in very awkward conditions, and in hindsight, if i’d have been really on it, and with my TT-R, i could have won it.
Not too bad for a guy who hasn’t practiced properly for weeks, and suffered no sleep and a horrendous sea crossing, even if i say so myself.
I’m going to work on my training now to gain the extra juice needed to preload my TT-R to the same as i managed on the HST. For 6 months the TT-R has proved itself the better rod for me, but, i had to make the very hard decision to leave it alone for the best part of that day.

The day ended, and goodbyes where said. the then long trip Wales began.

4 hours later we arrived in Llandeilo in the small village of Ffairfach. It was dark, it was still raining, and it gave us NO idea of what was to come in the morning.

We had in fact, already pre-purchased sea-trout (sewin) fishing permits, and we intended to fish on the Towy, and the Cothi, which itself is a tributary of the Towy.
Where we where staying was about mid way along its length, but what i hadn’t realised was the amount of streams that fed this river, and the location meant that rain falling anywhere, meant this river was very, very responsive to the amount of water going into it.

Well, for the first 3 to 4 days, it rained, and kept raining. It was relentless.

Then a glimmer of hope……

On the Thursday, it stopped raining.

We had already tried, and failed to fish the spate water with worm and spinning tactics, but to perfectly honest, i’m sure we wern’t in fact with a hope of success. The river was impossible along its whole length from Carmarthen to well above Llandovery which lies just short of the Brecon Beacons.

The worms are a whole other story. There is a conspiracy in Wales with regards worms. Tourists get dendrobena’s and the welsh get lobworms. We where given the run around, and i know it sounds paranoid, but these feelings where to be confirmed the following week when we fished with welsh big hitter Carl Jonathon on the River Loughour.

We where getting the “wool” pulled over our eyes i think.

But the Xman, is NOT as green as grass, and i had their number early on.

That said, we where, and i really mean this..made welcome by the Welsh people. In fact, i love it there, the countryside is fantastic, the people are great, and though the rivers where in flood, the potential there for any angler is off the scale.

so, on this, the fouth day, we went to find the elusive worm farm in a tiny little village near a place called Nantgaridig. It didn’t materialise of course, but in the process of finding, or searching for it, we found access to the River Towy on the bridge there which lies just downstream of the Abercothi Estate’s famous “Junction Pool”. We can’t afford to fish that water, and its a bit artificial anyway, as they have man made lies and groins and such.

We stood on the bridge to see this…

and this…

We managed to fish much higher up the River Towy on this day, and we fished the worm on a pool near a place called Llangadog which lies approx 25 miles north on Nantgaridig Bridge. We, Kevin (my brother) and i both took our first fish. They where very small brown trout but then, without warning, a slightly bigger fish. A bright silver fish, looked like a sewin, but hardly any spots.

Later i discovered this could have been a grilse (small salmon).

That night…..

IT RAINED HARD

The river in the morning was higher than we’d seen it before. All hope was washed away with that rain.
We had, during the week, driven miles and miles, hardly slept, and had tried to master many floodwater techniques that we just hadn’t anticipated we might have needed.

Saturday was unfishable, so we purchased maps “OS survey maps”, and we looked further afield.

We found Brecon on the River Usk.

Lovely little town to be frank, and the people up there where great. We walked the river to discover that the levels up there where high, but that if if it stopped raining, the levels and the clarity would improve very rapidly.

We purchased tickets in the hope of fishing it on the bank holiday. The sunday was out because we where to cast at the Welsh Surfcasting Federations monthly event at Cowbridge.

We drove down to Cowbridge on the sunday, and it was dry !!. We where both knackered, but we went along to cast knowing it would be a first. I hadn’t cast there before, and we arrived to loose the horizon as the grass covered the windscreen !!

Well, ok, thats a bit exageratted, but it was 18 inches to 2 feet high at least.

The turnout was great, and Jason Willicombe was flying the English flag having travelled the 120 miles from Minehead. In a straight line, he said he lived only 20 miles away, but the estuary intervened for the other 100 miles of the trip.

I saw Jason cast my 200g loaner 266 yards. I knew then i was screwed. The standard at this club is outstanding, the competition is fierce, yet the atomosphere is fantastic. I loved it, although i didn’t cast to my best.

I hit 258 yards 4 times before the day ended, and i was extremely dissapointed to not hit 260, but thats casting.

I’ll write another full report on both casting days as they where quite eventful.

So, it was still dry ???
What was happening ???