The good life

The easing of lockdown allows for a few hours of fishing — with delicious results

As the weeks of lockdown roll on, so does my challenge to be meat self-sufficient for a year. I am learning quickly about how to keep myself in good supply and how to maximise opportunity on the bartering market.

I had a phone call one evening from a nearby neighbour to say he had a Norfolk grey cockerel he no longer required for his hens. I think perhaps it wasn’t quite as prolific as had been hoped. Either way, I was told if I wanted the cockerel, I’d need to collect it by sundown the following evening.

I’ve always been told that they don’t cook very well and are often rather tough but I thought I might be able to swap it with a butcher friend who’d been telling me he needed a cockerel. Two days later, I had six sirloin steaks in the freezer and the cockerel was happily crowing in a new home. Acting quickly and not minding too much what you end up with seems to be a good mantra. In this case though, I was thrilled with some beef for the barbecue.

As the change from staying at home to staying alert was announced, the fishing community agreed that standing in a river on your own was within guidelines and it thankfully coincided with some warm weather and the first sightings of the mayfly. Not only was I bubbling with the thought of going fishing, but I was equally as excited at the possibility of having fish for supper.

The sun was warm and I ventured down to the river in my shirtsleeves. It felt like pure liberation to be out in the fresh air and I quietly slipped into the water at the bottom of a beautiful, and often productive, stretch. With a nice big grey mayfly on the end, I gently worked upstream. Up ahead of me there were quite a few splashes as trout launched their attacks on the unsuspecting mayfly.

The stream was clear, thigh deep, with some gnarled old willow trees bowing low over the water. With my arm at full stretch, I could just about find some clear air to cast and, flicking the fly 30ft ahead of me,

I gently retrieved as the flow carried it back. With the babbling stream, the cool waters and the warm sun, I was in heaven.

Fizzing

A log narrowed the stream ahead of me and the faster current had often resulted in a fish. I landed the fly with surprising precision and within a second or two it was thundered into, the line went tight and I had a brownie on the hook. It powered away upstream, fizzing the reel as it did. It took me a while to bring it under control and we fought for the next few minutes. The fish eventually took up residence firmly wedged under a root; I think it was genuinely stuck, rather than being stubborn.

“The sun was warm and it felt like pure liberation to be out in the fresh air”

As I reached down to pick it from the water, it came loose and swam off for one final hurrah. A short while later, I had the fish in the landing net, and I breathed a sigh of relief. Not only was the beautiful 3lb brown trout my first river fish of the season, but it was also going to be the first fish I’d eaten since I started my mission.

I fished on for another couple of hours, with one more catch to show for it, though the second one went back for another day. There is no better way to spend a few hours in the evening sunshine than gently stalking shadows on a a beautiful river. The satisfaction was even greater knowing I’d have buttery new potatoes, salad and fresh fish for my supper.

All my vegetable have been growing at a remarkable rate, particulalry my radishes. Perhaps in a few weeks time,

I’ll be able to start making good use of my overabundance of vegetables by swapping them with for some meat. In the meantime, my pigs have just arrived, so at some point bacon and pork chops will be back on the menu.

Jamie Tusting is a keen Shot, fisherman and stalker who runs a small driven shoot on his farm in Bedfordshire.

The 3lb brown trout was Jamie’s first river fish of the season and would make for a fine supper