Woodside Farm - The River Wey

Our venue for today, the River Wey is quite unusual in that it has two sources, one in West Sussex and one in Hampshire. The two rivers flow into Surrey joining at the picturesque village of Tilford and remain in the county until reaching the Thames at Weybridge.

This is our first attempt at fishing the Wey, and we decide to try the Woodside Farm at Elstead stretch. This 1km stretch is leased to Farnham angling ass. and can be fished on a 24hr ticket, although it must be noted the tickets can only be purchased by a current member who is allowed one guest ticket (as of 2013) at a time.

Chub, Perch, Pike, silverfish, Carp, Barbel and Trout have all been caught from this stretch of water, and although nothing massive has been recorded here (as far as we know) we both look forward to an exciting days fishing.

We arrive early and are both surprised by the depth and speed of river. The lack of rain over the last week has left the river looking like it's at an average height, and the water runs pretty clear although its darn fast (faster than expected!). It's flowing at a fair old rate and with depths ranging from 1-5 foot we both feel it's going to be a challenge. Judging by the flattened bank side vegetation in some places, it looks like the river had burst it's banks at some point recently. As we gingerly check out the first few swims we disturb something large that was resting below the undercut bank, we don't see it, but it bolts and causes a large disturbance and deep splash in the water. A good omen perhaps?

We set up using the same tactics we use on the River Blackwater; a quiver tip rod with a simple sliding ledger and a size 10 hook. For bait we have bought luncheon meat, pellet and good old worms. We decide on a roving approach, half an hour or so per swim before we move on to the next. A good way to cover this stretch of unknown water.

I win the toss for swim choice and I take a fishy looking swim with a great raft of overhanging bush. I Cast out and I'm instantly aware the weight of my ledger is not heavy enough. Any movement on the weight sends it bouncing downstream and as this is the heaviest one I have, I'm feeling uneasy. Gordy wanders a couple of hundred feet downstream and I lose sight of him as he disappears around a bend.

Recasting to the slackest part of this swim behind the raft still doesn't help me much. The line in the flow causes me massive drag and my quiver tip constantly bends and moves. Lifting the rod high helps a little but I'm not happy and small bites are going to be very hard for me to detect.

While I'm getting frustrated I notice the G-man walking round the corner net in hand. Gordy has a fish! He's only been in 30 minutes and judging by the grin on his face, it's a good one. He gently lays the net down and opens it up to reveal a lovely looking Trout. It's the first wild Trout I've ever seen and it's scale perfect. weighing in at a cosy 2lb dead Gordy makes it One-nill. He says it's one of the best fights he's ever had with the fish jumping and water walking many times before it was netted. Caught on the meat it's exciting stuff!

I decide to change swim and look for a deep bit where the river runs a little slower. Gordy heads back round the bend. I try another swim with much the same result- a quiver tip that won't keep nowhere near still and I feel a bit of frustration moving in. A couple of swims later and I'm up to where Gordy is fishing. He's having the same trouble with the rod tip. I notice he has a muddy hand and upon enquiring he explains how his seat started to sink in some soft mud and how he fell back in slow motion- putting his hand down to steady himself it sinks up to the wrist. He ends up on his back legs in the air. I wish I had seen it as I needed cheering up.

The rest of the day see's much the same for both of us, hard fishing with not a sniff of action. One consolation is the secluded beauty of this place. Set in farmland you can't hear any traffic and the path is barely worn at all indicating hardly any other anglers use this stretch. Glancing across the fields I spotted two deer bounding along. Talking of wildlife, Gordy said he saw the biggest mink he has ever seen in his life, not the best of fisherman's friends!

We cover the stretch and try all our baits without any more action. By 5pm we're both freezing cold and ready to call it a day. At one point I thought I had a bite but it was impossible to be sure, heavier weights were needed and it was a tough lesson to learn on the bank, but a lesson none the less.

We feel we could have done better with a little better tackle and both look forward to coming here again.