The Fisherman's Haunt – Pt II - The Royalty

October 2019 still, and day two of my trip down to the New Forest. With an unsuccessful few hours the night before at Winkton the warm atmosphere of a cosy pub was just the tonic I needed to refresh morale and chatter through hopes and dreams for the following day. I knew relatively little about the Royalty other than you had to buy a day ticket on the day from Davis Tackle and on a weekend it would likely be very busy. And so it was an early breakfast at The Fisherman's haunt before loading the car to what felt like a mad dash to Christchurch. I hadn't realized that the Royalty tickets were cash only and despite getting to the shop for doors-opening had to divert to the nearest cashpoint at a local supermarket. Returning to the shop I bought a ticket and headed down to the bank with only a handful of other anglers already there. These red letter trips always build so much hope, but with that also comes the risk of disappointment. For me the experience ends up loaded with anxiety, which somehow seems to defeat the purpose of being there! Definitely something I need to work on. In this case there were a few 'known' swims I wanted to head for and the anxiety was driven by not being able to get onto one of them. Daft isn't it?

The Royalty - Keepers of possibly the best man-cave in fishing

The beat was a lot more urban than I expected but was stuffed with attractive features, not least the amazing lodge with its trophy adorned walls and vintage fishing gear. A proper man-cave I thought. The river twists and turns, almost back on itself in places, as it meanders through the length of the beat and every section seemed to offer something to beckon me to fish there! In the end I opted for the pipe swim. The river was up and pushing through, but the weather was mild and conditions I thought looked ideal. I positioned one rod out in the flow and the other in a near side slack. There was a lack of action for the first few hours, but it was a beautiful sunny morning and I was kept active trying to photograph some of the wildlife which has made this quasi-urban river environment home. I managed some decent snaps of a kingfisher who was doing far better at catching fish than I was and a woodpecker feeding on its regular haunt, a hole peppered silver birch tree.

King of the fishers - certainly having more success than I!

There's so much more to being on the river than the fishing

Another hour rolling meat around the swim failed to draw the fish from wherever they were holed up and it was time for a spot of lunch and a wander. A couple fishing upstream of the railway bridge had hooked and lost one, but otherwise it seemed like people were struggling. Conditions to me seemed perfect apart from the bright sunshine, but I wasn't familiar with the river so couldn't really judge what switched these frequently fickle fish off an on.  

Whilst giving the beat a good explore, I noticed that everyone seemed to be carrying far less tackle than me, and it certainly seems a roving approach is favored here. Another downside of fishing somewhere completely new and far from home - having to pack the kitchen sink to give 'options'. Abandoning the pipe swim I made my way downstream of the railway bridge. Again, this looked perfect. Fast turbulent water flowed under the constraints of the bridge and gave way to a deep slack against some rushes. 

The railway - a perfect swim if ever there was one

If there weren't any barbel there should at least be some chub I thought. Cheese paste then, positioned on the riffle where fast and slack-water meet. Again I was thwarted with not so much as a pluck. A few more spots were tried but it seemed the fish just weren't in an obliging mood. Still, a lovely place to spend some time and some lessons learnt for a return in future. The Royalty is one of those beats recorded in angling folklore and it's wonderful to have fished it, even if unsuccessfully. I'll return once we've consigned COVID to the history books with my roving gear and perhaps the pike fly rod, there are after all some hefty crocs on the wall of that man-cave!