Brown Trout and Dancing Mayflies

"The female drops her eggs on the water, the act of reproduction being complete both sexes fall almost lifeless on the surface of the stream, their wings extended their bodies mere empty shells"


Many years ago, my father would take me off to the River Kennet for a day’s trout fishing during 'Duffers Fortnight' as it was known. If memory serves me correctly it was usually the first few days of June. In those far off days we thought brown trout could be caught in great numbers as they gorged on the mayfly which hatched in their thousands for just a few days of the year. Nothing could be further from the truth. I do remember correctly though, that very few fish were taken. In fact, for the first few days of the hatch these fish can be so very frustrating, often making us feel and act like duffers as we struggled to catch.

What we did learn during the so called duffer’s fortnight was that the river held some huge resident trout. I remember one afternoon around tea time watching enthralled as two huge brown trout weighing about 6 or 7lbs were cruising around the surface eating mayflies only a couple of feet from the bank Uncle Eddy tried for them without success, as did another angler. As we sat outside a waterside Tavern that evening, the keeper told my Uncle over a pint that two anglers the day previous had also tried to catch the trout without success.

Common sense tells me if several hundred, sometimes thousands of mayflies are drifting down the current struggling in their death throes, then the chances of a fish taking my artificial fly are pretty slim. In fact I have found catching brown trout on an artificial Mayfly was so much better a few days after the initial heavy hatches.

Three years ago I was on the river Dove with that delightful of all round anglers Robert Goodwin. We had come to enjoy the delights of this Derbyshire River made famous and fished by such notable anglers as Isaac Walton, Charles Cotton and Amateur Angler among others. Robert suggested I come across after lunch on June 2nd during the Mayfly hatch which I happily accepted.

I suppose it was about 4pm the heavens opened up and we took shelter under a big oak from the heavy rain shower that lasted some twenty minutes. As the rain ceased, the mercury started to rise and the weather become muggy. Then all of a sudden, the air was full of mayflies. It seemed as if there were thousands upon thousands of Ephemera danica. Dancing the dance of death rising up and down like yo yo's on invisible strings. During the next hour or so, many thousands of mayfly's eggs were lost as they were deposited on the wet tarmac, footpaths and fields.

It seemed as if every bird for miles around had converged on the area to feast on the dead and dying bodies. I remember that day watching enthralled as a dipper seemed to grab what seemed like a dozen mayflies then flew a few yards to feed a youngster that was perched on a rock in mid river. This happened several times and that young dipper must have been the best fed bird on the river. Swifts, swallows, martins and moor hens were also feasting on what is probably the most exquisite and beautiful fly that had slowly crawled from the river where it had lived perhaps two or three years as a nymph

When one thinks of Mayflies our thoughts turn to brown trout, but this fly is also a very important creature in the aquatic world. In the nymphal stage they are probably the food of all the aquatic fish at some stage in the fish’s life, let’s not forget the dipper which walks along the river bed grabbing a mouthful of nymphs to feed a nestful of youngsters. Halford in his book Dry-Fly Fishing in Theory and Practice writes, "As the sun gets low in the horizon and the air begins to cool the males come out in clouds, congregating together; and, dancing up and down, lie in wait for, and catch each female as she flies out into the open in the imago state. Sexual intercourse takes place in the air, and very shortly after it the female drops her eggs on the water, and the act of reproduction being complete, both sexes fall almost lifeless on the surface of the stream with their wings extended and lying flat and their bodies mere empty shells.

One year on the river Teme, over a period of three days from June 19 until 21st, I witnessed a big Mayfly hatch, which happened between 12 noon and 2-0pm. I didn't see any trout moving but Tony Farquharson and I witnessed a lot of barbel twisting and turning in the water. I realised these fish were chasing the nymphs of the Mayflies. I caught three barbel that day by fishing a Walkers Mayfly nymph, probably the first time barbel had been taken by design.

For trout fishing I would choose a rod of about eight and a half feet with a 4 weight line. On the subject of lines you will read conflicting advice. Some writers will say it has to be a double taper floating line, whilst others will say use a weight forward floating line, both views are right. Where the conflict comes in is when an angler tells you it must be a double taper, as it casts better and the fly lands more delicately. I will say now that this is rubbish. It's all down to how skilful the angler is. How many days a year do some of these experts’ fish? I often ask myself. In the days of the early plastic lines it was probably true, but not today. If you're tired of catching stocky rainbows ask around among other anglers and find out what waters have a Mayfly hatch and the date they are expected. Then go out and fish the Mayfly on the river stream or gravel pit. It's terribly exciting