The Logic of Lures

You know it's proper winter when you have to carve the ice off your car on a daily basis. After a few abandoned plans due to frozen waters things are slowly starting to thaw out and having lain about digesting the stone or so of christmas stodge I was itching to get back out to Bratton water and try a catch and release ticket.

No rising fish or hectic action on this occasion however and it really was a case of going through the card, from buzzers and bloodworms to mini lures. Strange how the plan that works one week can be close to useless the next! It was movement the fish seemed to want in the end, perhaps the best option when little is hatching, and the lures won out, with rubber daddies and small, glitzy lures finally making an impression for a hat trick of rainbows.

I guess I do find the slow sussing out of trickier days enjoyable in itself though- and even lure fishing can prove a challenge in finding the right pattern and retrieve on the day. For example, I spotted several cruising fish later in the day that would follow a big fritz every cast- but a fish was only hooked when a much smaller version was offered. Remarkably picky for "stupid" stocked fish! Today was one of those perplexing sessions when you get a fish on a particular pattern but then not a touch until something else is tried. Working on the answer is rewarding in itself though- wouldn't want it to be easy now would we?

Fishing the Freeze

It's not always easy fishing after a big frost. Especially if your haunt of choice is covered with ice. Thankfully Blakewell fishery stays clear in all but the most extreme cold, although you do check your marbles when you read -4C on the meter.
Throw in some snow and you have interesting conditions.

Lures seemed a good starting choice if only to prevent the line freezing to the rod rings. Just as the snow began falling I had a hit on a Woolly Bugger- which could also be a term for an angler covered in thick winter wear! Pulling lures isn't the most subtle method going, but watching a fish chase and smash the fly is exciting stuff in clear water. Unlike other species, rainbows seem to lose little of their fighting spirit in the cold either.

As the day warmed a little though, odd fish began to rise. For a half delusional moment I considered putting on a dry fly- looked like the fish were taking sporadically hatching buzzers. A Daiwl Bach fished no more than three feet deep did the trick- a subtler take and another less than subtle fight. Two fish for seven and a half pounds was a nice brace; the owner doesn't offer catch and release and so it was a done deal on the ticket, with some great winter pictures from Frazer to boot. Time to find a pub and get by the fire place!

Fly vs Lure Match

With a plan to ressurrect the Devon Pike Anglers Club on the go, this weekend was a great chance for a preliminary get together. Tiverton Canal seemed a good choice for a friendly match, the theme being two teams of anglers using different methods.
In the blue corner we had the lure boys (R to L: Dave Smith, Ian Nadin, Rob Darby, Lewis Palk)

Next up, the fly guys (R to L: Me, Chris Gooding, John Garnett, Steve Moore)

Despite both teams talking a good game, the canal proved tough starting out at Sampford Peverell. It was clear enough, but both teams struggled to get any interest. The fly squad were quick off the mark, not with pike but banter ("It's the lure anglers- they're scaring our fish off").

The lure team struck first though, with Dave Smith taking a welcome 17" jack. With Tivvy being generally stuffed with pint sized predators, we decided to measure fish rather than weigh them.

The first catch didn't signal the start of any dramatic action however, and it seemed that even the smallest pike might prove vital. Odd bites did follow, but nothing stuck, until I managed to close the gap for the fly team with a skinny little pike of 15". Game on! Finely balanced then- but who would score next? The lure anglers had already started harping on about their method being "more selective"- their fish being a massive 2 inches bigger!

Shortly the fly worked again though, this time for Chris Gooding with another 15" jack. Chris is a keen fly angler, but this was his first fly caught pike, making it doubly satisfying. Both teams were now casting with a vengeance- but still the fish proved reluctant and we seemed to hook more trees than pike!
Finally, after many metres of bank trodden the fly team went clear with a toothy little bugger of all of half a pound, before it was decided that it was high time we hauled ourselves off the cut and into the pub for a post match pint.
So, it was by no means plain sailing but the fly anglers pinched victory on a tricky day. Perhaps a slowly presented fly is as good a method as any when it's cold and the fish are inactive? Or maybe we just had luck on our side! Either way, everyone enjoyed a fun day out. A great gang of anglers, good banter and a nice little field test for a friendly match format- we stuck together, leapfrogging but making the rule that no one could stray too far ahead. Hopefully the next time we get out as a group the pike will be in a more cooperative mood.

A Beast on the Feast...

My love-hate relationship with Exeter Canal has been intensifying of late. A hat trick of blanks and then, just when you're starting to curse its cold waters, just when you wonder if it'll ever happen, along comes a BIG surprise! 20 pounds and two ounces of barrel shaped pike.

The blanks then, have not been in vain. I've been putting chopped rainbow trout to good use as prebait on previous visits, attempting to put the pike on a crash diet of the stuff. With so few catch and release trout fisheries I tend to end up with a full freezer and get pretty sick of eating rainbows- at least the pike seem to like them. This one certainly didn't look short of a good square meal!
It was touch and go playing the fish, a very tense affair as I could see the pike was only attached to the bottom treble ("Please don't come off, PLEASE don't come off!"). She came close to the net twice, suddenly lunging away again and producing that uneasy sensation of my heart and stomach trying to trade places. Fishing eh? Bloody hell!
The only downer to my midweek is that my motor is still knackered. I wonder if anyone can think of a good excuse for the car rental company to explain why their vehicle smells like Captain Birdseye's dustbin? Answers on a herring please...

A Beautiful Blank

High hopes and great plans are well and good. Better still when they materialise- most of the time the script gets torn up and lobbed out of the window.
We made our cold crossing to Wales in great hope, admiring the snowy hills and swollen rivers on the way. There were perhaps two garages open on the whole of our early journey out, but bizarrely we saw about six vans selling bacon rolls at the roadside- we're guessing that half of Merthyr Tydfil run a greasy food van on the sly.
Our target was perhaps the most casually run fishery in Wales (and I'll stop there before I produce steam), Llangorse lake. It was a dissappointment- day one looked fine but no boats were allowed out (no human beings were there to speak to either), whilst today we had access but it was positively dangerous- no fishing is worth drowning for. A shame really, because the lake is stunning. We should have taken our cue from the ducks swimming in the car park.

We did discover a very beautiful, if daunting, alternative venue however. Pontsticill Reservoir is a mammouth sized lake with scenery that knocks your breath back. Utterly lovely- although the place was surprisingly litter strewn (Brilliant idea for the Welsh Tourist Board: "Come Littering in the Brecon Beacons! Drop your non biodegradable waste in some of Britain's finest countryside"). We tried a few spots on the drop offs for pike, Ian Nadin's whole herring bait the epitomy of our great hope in the face of a kicking. No joy at all sadly- and apart from the scenery it was probably only the usual banter that stopped me from feeling despondent.

It's days like these that you realise what an addiction fishing is. We get up at stupid times, clock up silly miles and do things hardened drug addicts wouldn't contemplate, and all for that next bite. Winter fishing is sometimes a cruel sport, not to fish but to anglers. Often it's bitter, sometimes it's very sweet. Roll on next week.

Spiders and Flies

Flood water and a knackered car do not make great news for fishing. Still, these little obstacles have left me the time to get back to the tying vice. I usually start with the idea of tying plenty of practical flies that I'll need before long- then resort to having some fun and doing exactly what I fancy!

I do love spiders. Not the sort that scare girls though. The humble spider is such a simple blueprint; the possibilities are endless and they seem to work almost anywhere. Not many seem to rate them for still water rainbows, but they work a treat for fish cruising the upper layers. As above, I do like to include a dash of hot orange as a little target point.

Bright is not always best though- and I love the subtle classics for river fishing. What a shame it's such a long wait till I get to try them out. This one's a March Brown spider:

More pressing is the need for pike flies however, with a trip to Llangorse beckoning. Here's a classic red head pattern:

A Box Full of Jerks

After an excruciating midweek session where I mangaged to lose something weighty on the River Brue and then break down on the M5, I was looking forward to a trip to Exeter Canal to try to capture the Jerkbait antics of Steve Moore on camera.
Steve has a real passion for these monsters- a little chap with BIG lures! Some rough autumn weather made things interesting, although the fantastic colours of the season and semi urban backdrop made for some vivid pictures:

We walked far and wide, Steve throwing a mixture of rubber baits, shads and other magnum sized offerings into the right places. Biting winds along with the extra colour in the water from recent flooding made things anything but easy. When you think of it though, these high vis lures make perfect sense when fishing a deep water with extra colour- at least the pike will have a chance to locate the target.

Exeter Canal can be a temperamental beast though (Rob Darby compares it to having a bad girlfriend: "you give her time, money and love and you get *£!$ all back!") and persistence was required. We did see a take or two from the jacks though- which evidently are not shy about grabbing a sizeable lure.

The bigger beasts were not playing then, although it was still a great day out. The canal seems extremely popular currently and as well as fishing pressure, this also means the odd unexpected bonus. I've seldom had a day when so many bits of tackle have been found on the bank, including a baker hookout tool, a float, a new Rapala Taildancer and, sadly, various bits of fishing line (anyone know why the stuff you find is always as thick as tow rope?).

The Battle of Bratton

After a very wet river season you really do appreciate the consistency of stillwaters to get your fly fix. Bratton water is all a lake fishery should be: beautifully natural looking, dececent sized and with some cracking, more challenging brownies in addition to the usual rainbows.
After running a feature here, I just had to return to enjoy another day and try dries in addition to the usual buzzer tactics. Even so late in the year we were treated to hatching sedges and some explosive surface takes. A CDC sedge on a fairly light tipped was the order of the day and the method also proved a fairly selective way to tempt the brownies- we took four crackers between us. John Garnett had the best at three pounds plus, a fish that battered the dry and then did the same to a six weight. All of these were carefully returned.

I was also pleased to meet fellow fly angler Mike Graham using one of Luke Bannister's beautiful cane rods. Having taken his bag on a Griffith's Gnat, he let me have a cast and I managed to hook and lose a solid brownie that looked every ounce of four pounds.
Even when the fish weren't rising, sport was still excellent on nymphs for fish cruising in the upper layers. Whilst unmissable takes are great, I do love the subtle draw of trout intercepting a buzzer or Daiwl Bach. Like lure fishing, it is the take itself which is so magically addictive.

Credit is also due to Frazer McBain once more for his brilliant pictures.

British Fly Fair International 2009...

What do you call 3000 fanatics, a host of ace fly tyers & enough materials to fill a warehouse? The BFFI of course! What a terrific event this is- as well as stocking up on hard to find materials and bargains it was a real pleasure to meet so many fly tyers and characters from all over the world.

The tyers row itself was truly international- and what a range of flies! The work of German tyer Peter Joest was first to catch the eye. As well as great mylar fry patterns, how's this for a baby squid pattern for bass and other species:

Other areas were full of cute and clever flies- some fiendishly realistic, others simple but irresistable. Plenty of faultless Mayflies- or how about this Mantis from Dutch master Paul van den Driesche?:

On a simpler but more practical level, here are two Stoyan Filipov preyfish patterns for big trout. Perhaps his simplest creations among some real marvels, but I loved these:

Another interesting stop was Chris Sandford's corner- and I just had to admire his antique pike flies, as well as other beautiful cased specimens. Chris was right by Waterlog publishers The Medlar Press, whose new book of "Great Pike Stories" was a must have- a real treasure trove of past gems.

The Wonders of Wales

What a fantastic destination Wales is for just about any type of fishing you care to name. Along with the Westcountry Rivers Trust's Toby Russell and pro instructor John Dawson I enjoyed a quick fire tour along with a host of tourism and angling folks from Wales and Ireland.
The Wye and Usk Foundation have truly transformed fishing in the region in the form more access, better information and vast improvements in fish habitat. We saw new fish passes for Salmon & sea trout, beautiful rejuvenated rivers and other excellent work including their hatchery, which turns out some 230 000 juvenile salmon a year to give nature a helping hand.


Sadly the rivers were much too high for any Grayling fishing- although we did have a dabble in a surprisngly pretty club lake near Merthyr Tydfil. We got no joy, although local legend has it that a hulikng great rainbow known to locals as "Charlie" (!)keeps breaking tippets and locals' hearts here.

Above all it was great to see how passionate and forward thinking the Welsh are with their fishing resources here. And as for the Irish contingent, they were brilliant fun although some of their jokes were completely unrepeatable! I already have several plans set to "simmer" from the Welsh experience, and with so many committed individuals working for fishing here, the future has to be bright.

Life's a Ditch

More muddy miles in pike country this weekend. With fellow drain hoppers Rob Darby and Ian Nadin, we enjoyed a day of narrow roads, poor directions and some unlikely pike spots. The Somerset Levels truly are an adventure; a land of rusting tractors, bizarre attractions (trip to the Peat Museum anyone?) and flooded corners. It's so rural out here that the yobs have to throw hay bails rather than trolleys into the local river. We must have tried at least four locations in the day- including a ditch no more than 18" deep! Amazingly, there was still the odd small pike lying in wait.

It was on the slightly larger bodies of water (ie, those you couldn't jump across) that the sport was best however. It took a while to find peaceful spots however- and currently there are alarming levels of very poorly equipped pike anglers at the access points- no nets or mats spell big trouble on these steep, snaggy banks. At least there's space out here though, and on both the North and South Drain there was sport to be had for those prepared to walk. Soft shads and shallow running lures still seem the best option in these weedy waters- and what a thrill it is watching pike tail the lure before making a savage lunge! We took over ten jacks between the three of us, up to around the five to six pound mark, not quite as big as one or two midweek samples taken on a morning off:

Excellent fun neverthelss and some top quality banter to boot. Certainly more fun than a day at the Peat Museum I dare say, which is surely a rival to Dartmoor's Paperweight Centre for the title of the South West's most spectacularly boring tourist attraction.

From Drain to Drain

A busy old time of late- so many plans, so little time. But when I can't decide on which, I usually opt for somewhere quiet. Such was today's plan for the Levels. Conditions were poor though- bright and sunny. In my writing I'm probably as guilty as anyone else at identifying the best conditions- but more often than not we're not at liberty to pick our free time and so the conditions choose us!
The King's Sedgemoor Drain was very slow. As dead as my herrings in fact, although I covered a lot of water and was probably the only one roving outdoors hoping for darker skies. Plenty of pikey spots covered, but pikey spots do not always equal active pike. A quick move was in order and I fancied the pretty South Drain (above), a water I'd admired but never fished. Another long walk led to just one bite and a shy one at that. The line hardly moved before I struck and something screamed about twenty yards off! A ballistic fight and a very long fish of twelve and a bit pounds. The pike are still skinny, angry customers- and with the awkward banks here all I can say is thank goodness for unhooking mats.

Otherwise, I have been enjoying other business, including my new found role as a bailiff for Exeter and District AA. I asked to see the permit of one oik walking along HOLDING A BLOODY FISHING ROD who said "I'm not fishing". He was either carrying out some kind of surrealist mime then, or was the world's worst liar. Either way, he was politely told to bugger off and not come back without a permit. Some people!

Rocket from the Cripps

Sunday, boring Sunday. No encouragement required to shoot off to the Somerset Levels again for some more pike finding. Had a look at The Huntspill, South Drain and Cripps River (which isn't actually a river) today. The best bit? Taking a long walk and seeing nobody in sight for hours. The closest I got to being harrased was a herd of very curious cows, who seemed intent on studying my fishing tackle and eyeballing me.

The Cripps was particularly enjoyable- shallow as a boy band and very weedy. Deadbaits were a dead loss frankly, but a quick throw with soft lures got some interest. It was one of those days though- lots of jacks, few properly hooked. Partly because it was so weedy I took the treble hook off the suspending Storm Shad they took a liking to.
The pattern seemed to be little clusters of pike with long empty spaces in between. Finally though, one pike stayed on, taken by dropping a deadbait in front of a fish that followed a lure in but wouldn't take. An utterly ballistic fight too for a fish of five or so pounds, a very skinny brute that looked in need of a few more roach for lunch.

A long way from being a red letter day then- but what a fantastically peaceful place to roam. And on the walk back I saw the unmistakable shape of a barn owl swooping over the trees. Magical.

Lessons from Cider Country

Fishing is an odd sport sometimes. You don't always get what you deserve. Sometimes you can fish for just a few casual casts and get a result; next week you put in maximum effort for very little. Which has been the story of the last week.
The Somerset Levels looked prime for a long walk and hopefully a few pike on the Kings Sedgemoor Drain. I love these drains and long venues- not convenience fishing, but rewarding for those prepared to search far and wide. Sadly it was one of those days when conditions looked perfect but only a handful of jacks were prepared to have a look- just the one made it to the bank, from perhaps a foot of water by a bridge, literally right under the rod tip.

Otherwise, the only real lesson was courtesy of Rob Darby, on the dangers of cider and falling down wet steps the day before. In the above picture you might be forgiven for mistaking the lad for a pikey hobo, rather than a pike fisherman.
The only other action (or lack of it) was a trip to a very soggy Chew Reservoir. The trout were surprisingly absent to fry patterns, and the pike not especially active either with just one jack and two other knocks on decent sized pike flies. The water level seems alarmingly low at present, ruling out some of the usual features, and some areas seem muddy too. Perhaps no surprise that all the bites came on brightly coloured offerings. What a foul day too! My kit is still drying out as I type this...

September Fest

What a gloriously mild September it has been. Can still be a good time to fish too, with a bit of effort and the use of shanks pony. Today was an early start on Exeter Canal near Turf locks for pike- for the sake of avoiding human traffic as well as for fishing reasons. I opted to fly fish and wobble, whilst fellow Sunday escapees Rob and Neil went on lures. Bites were not exactly numerous, but well worth the wait. A six pounder was first up, going ballistic after snaffling a fly intended for perch sheltering under boats:

Catch of the day was definitely Rob's 13 pounder though (pictured at the top), the reward for getting stuck into some seriously overgrown swims. Well worth soggy trousers and nettle stings I'd say! The fish gave a spirited fight after grabbing a rubber shad. The bank was so overgrown that I literally (blush) had to get Neil to hold my ankles to reach down to the water and release the fish properly- oh well, a decent fish deserves respect, even if my dignity takes a dent.
The other highlight was Neil's discovery of a scrawled list of random mania clearly written by the sort of goggle eyed lunatic you might try to avoid at a bus stop. A little case uncovered a hotch potch of pub adresses, bizarre observations and remarks about spotting people "dogging at Lime Kilns". Nice.

Other than these pikey goings on, Dawlish also provided some fantastic kicks for fly rod bass. On the small side generally, but over a dozen schoolies to home tied sand eel patterns can't be too bad- rod jarring takes and scrappy as heck on a trout rod:

Big canal perch on fly

I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that the fly is a seriously underrated method for perch. The Grand Western Canal was tricky this morning, but I found a small group of good perch and was eager to see how my new patterns would fare. These stripey ones proved as cagey as any trout I've stalked too- keen to have a look, but getting a solid take is another matter. It's thrilling sight fishing- casting into the path of a fish and employing a busy but slowish retrieve. Eventually I managed to pick off a really decent sample that could have comfortably eaten the previous catch!

The fly was my own prototype, making the capture doubly satisfying. The "perch special" is bigger than a trout fly but not as huge as a pike pattern- a little fritz, white marabou mixed with Orvis Angel Hair, and a nod to tradition in the form of a juicy red wool tag. I'll probably now have that smug git look for the rest of the weekend!

Any fish, any fly

It really is possible to catch just about any species on a fly with the right approach, and aside from the slog of carp angling, it has been a case of short but enjoyable sessions on canal and river this last week. You can travel so light that even a couple of hours after work can prove worthwhile.
Today was the Exe after pike. I must admit, my catch was a fish previously spotted by Rob Darby that was following but refusing to take his plugs. A slower moving pike fly did the trick perfectly- the harder part was getting this fit river fish into the net. I never like to play them too long and after a short but robust tussle we had her on the mat. Thirteen pounds and beautifully proportioned- not a bad start to the pike season?!!

Otherwise Exeter Canal has been a fun adventure with flies- despite funny looks and daft questions ("are you fly fishing?"). Perch are proving fun on little streamers and lures, whilst the roach and rudd are taking little buzzers and hares ears- something with a bit of red seems especially useful. It is all essentially sight fishing, with a four weight rod. If you think trout are quick on the take, these rudd are lightning fast! I have a feeling the odd bigger fish are deeper, but plenty of pretty samples are delightful sport on a brook rod, a tiny hares ear as effective as anything on a warm afternoon.