DR H. A. BELL OF BLAGDON AND WRINGTON

 

By Alick Newsom

 

There must be many members of the Club who have either met or heard about Dr Bell and it is very sad for them, and all of us who knew him, to have to record his death shortly before Christmas at the age of 86.

 

He was the village doctor at Wrington, Blagdon, and a number of local places and was much loved and respected because of his expert services on behalf of the sick and incapacitated. As I lived for some years at Blagdon and eventually next door to him in Wrington, I knew him very well and am happy to relate that on two occasions he saved my life during an emergency.

 

My diary does not record when I first met him, but as I started fishing at Blagdon in 1924, it must have been about 50 years ago. By then he was already a legendary figure owing to the unorthodox methods which he used for the catching of Blagdon trout. In those days Salmon flies or Lures, with two or even three hooks, were the standard ‘attractors' and night fishing was considered to be essential for success. But Bell changed all that. He never fished at night nor from a boat but was not averse to spinning which was allowed in those days. He meticulously ‘spooned’ all the trout which he caught and gradually built up an index of all the food which was available for Blagdon trout throughout the season. He then made suitable imitations and of course we all followed suit.

 

Thus it came about that night fishing was no longer essential for success and we found that we could make good and more enjoyable catches in daylight and with relatively small flies, even ‘dry’ when conditions were right. Spinning was eventually forbidden and so it became all the more important to learn Bell’s fly technique.

 

He used always a floating line and a cast tapered usually to 2X or 3X, in those days. You had to glue your eyes on to the knot where the cast joined the line, for more often than not, no rise was seen, but just a gentle or sometimes sudden movement of the knot betokened a fish down below. All you had to do then was tighten, or if you couldn’t help it, strike.

 

Bell was always careful when entering the water (in thigh waders) and fished his way out quietly until he was at a comfortable depth. He told me that he had often picked up a fish ‘on the way out’ and deplored the way in which some fishers, who should have known better, almost charged into the water, spreading waves in all directions.

 

Once in position he would then make his way slowly and quietly along the shore. In the distance one could hardly see him moving. As soon as he caught a fish, he would wade quietly ashore, kill and spoon the fish and then smoke a cigarette. He would hang about at that spot for a bit, as sometimes there would be a small pocket of fish just there, so that others might afterwards be caught. Then he would resume his progress along the shore until he fancied some other place. He was nearly always on the move, hunting for his fish and using his knowledge of the old ditches, submerged banks and pot-holes, so as to fish in places where trout might congregate to feed. His tactics were very successful and he caught his ‘limit’ several times a year and much more often than most bank fishers.

 

An amusing story is recorded about Bell fishing in one of the popular bays, some 30 yards or so away from a well known Clifton College master, a Scot with a great sense of humour, and almost at that time the equal of Bell. The master caught a fish. ‘Spoon it’ shouted Bell. Back came the answer. ‘It’s full of Corixas’. ‘What did you catch it on?’ from Bell. ‘An Invicta’ was the answer and they went on fishing. Then the master caught a second fish. ‘Spoon it’ shouted Bell. Whereupon the master replied ‘It’s full of Invictas’. Whereupon Bell soon moved to another place to fish alone!

 

His ‘day off’ from doctoring was every Friday and it would have to be a very bad day if he was not fishing. On Sunday he had a half day off, but was ‘on call’. His dear and devoted wife Millie, who ran his surgeries for him at Blagdon and Wrington in immaculate fashion, had to stay at home and wait for any phone calls which might come in. Every now and then she would have to drive over to Blagdon and hunt for Bell, knowing roughly where she might find him. Once he was located, great would be the wrath, but he never failed his patients. He used to say ‘I am not available on Fridays and I’m in a very bad temper on Sundays.’

 

Millie was, and is, a great keeper of hens with their attendant squires. She usually had some exotic varieties so that Bell was never short of hackles and wings. She still insists on ‘free range’ birds and, as with her surgeries, the hen houses, of which there are many dotted about their paddocks, are always immaculate.

 

Bell tied all his own flies and invented one or two. They would not have obtained a ‘First’ before a team of F. F. Club examiners, but they worked and did not fall to pieces. There was a period when, after the Second Great War, he drove an ancient Alvis loaded to the roof and at great speed up to Scotland to fish the Spey. Millie went with him and they took a cook as well. The house they occupied was near Grantown and again Bell tied all his own flies for Sea Trout and Salmon. I still have some of them which he kindly gave me. They are very similar to those which L. R. N. Grey tied and used so successfully on the Torridge. As at Blagdon Bell always used, and successfully too, a floating line.

 

Apart from fishing, Bell was a perfectionist in other spheres. His apple trees were a picture, whether in flower or bearing fruit. They were expertly pruned so that their shape was akin to an umbrella. Thus he was able to make his way around them to prune, spray or pick fruit without any need of a ladder. He won many prizes in Somerset with his showings of different varieties of first class English eating apples. His vegetable garden, all dug and fostered by himself alone, was greatly productive and always tidy. His lawns were not fit for a game of bowls, but were regularly cut and never looked amiss. How he managed all this I really don’t know.

 

Bell also had a pretty wide knowledge of music which he produced mainly for himself by means of a specially built record player. One of his pupils in the fishing world, who eventually caught up and passed ‘The Maestro’ as a tyer of perfect flies and even a catcher of Blagdon trout, made this for him and many an hour did I spend listening with him to specially selected records of the greatest compositions of Rachmaninoff, Tchaikovsky and the like. As he aged, unfortunately his hearing failed him and eventually I was the only person able to absorb the Fortissimo passages from his excellent library of records. Strange to relate, the neighbours did not complain!

 

As he did very well to reach the age of 86 years, it is obvious that he was available for the 1914-18 war. After Cambridge University and a spell in a London hospital, he served in the R. A. M. C., mostly in ‘Mespot’, as it was then called, and he often told me how he wished he’d had a rod with him to ‘have a go’ in the various rivers which he came across. He would have needed some strong tackle and ironmongery to do battle with the monsters of that country. Amongst other interesting things, he saw quantities of cyclamen growing wild in Palestine, and subsequently grew a lot in his own house and garden.

 

So has passed on another great fisher, not known so well as Skues and his ilk, to be sure, but one who has made his mark and really revolutionised the art of catching trout in still waters. I count myself greatly privileged to have known him.

Reproduced by kind permission of The Flyfishers' Club, London