Ide and Aspirin

First things first, I'd like to wish a very Happy New Year to all blog followers and angling friends everywhere. I spent much of the end of 2013 worse for wear sadly. Some of it was self inflicted, granted, but the days after Boxing Day were a bloody misery of pounding head and sneezing. I was just about through it in time to get down to Anglers Paradise for New Years Eve. With all the dreary weather and flooding I fancied this would be a good way to add some colour and cheer to an otherwise dreary holiday season.

After surviving an enjoyable night in Zyg's infamous African Bar, the weather was sadly nothing like as welcoming. With fellow 5 C's members I braved the main carp lake on New Years Day for a friendly match but the only winner was the god of rain, my measly tally of one orfe and a few small carp too small to count. It was a relief therefore to retreat for a hot bath and regroup in better conditions the following day.

The specimen orfe and tench lake is a rather special treat on the complex, with a mix of several exotic species you're unlikely to match without the use of mind altering drugs. Even in the winter, the orfe here can be spotted cruising well off the bottom, so I opted for a waggler approach. I needed a 5AA model to cut through a steady breeze, along with almost constant, small pouches of maggots catapulted in. With the water pretty clear I didn't want to spook the fish early on, so I fed well out into the lake steadily for quarter of an hour without casting. And what a first bite! The float had barely cocked when it shot out of sight. By far my biggest golden orfe, this one pulled back well:

A cat and mouse game then ensued. Only by constantly feeding and switching depths did the fish keep coming. Most were around two pounds, although I had the sickening feeling of playing a much bigger fish for perhaps a minute before losing it. What was the culprit? Dogged rather than energetic, I suspect it was an orfe- and one which could have comfortably doubled the size of the one before. I hate that sudden slack feeling after a good fish is hooked. I turned the air blue for a moment before, appropriately enough, catching a blue orfe. The real mother of the lot may have got away, but it's difficult to feel too glum with the rather beautiful and interesting fish here- and this blue orfe was the best of four in the two to three pound stamp (*** I actually stand corrected here after speaking to the head honcho himself, Zyg Gregorek. The fish pictured is not a blue, but a rather rare all white orfe. Bonus! They all look beautiful to me. ***)

As the wind increased, bites then dried up and I went for a wander. Bizarely I couldn't buy another bite for some time. Were the conditions killing presentation? I tried a popped up piece of legered bread crust for a while, but to no avail. And when I returned to the spot that produced earlier, the maggots only drew hordes of tiddlers. Try as I might, they devoured everything I could fire out, which was bizarre given that the same spot had yielded nothing below about a pound and a half earlier in the day. Hmmm… it might be back to the drawing board with this lake for another visit. But for anyone yet to catch a golden or blue orfe, I'd recommend making the trip- they're a colourful challenge- and you'll also find the species present on the day ticket lakes at Anglers Paradise. A big thank you also goes out to AP visitor Scott Cooper, who was on hand to grab some pics for me and to share some thoughts for the coming season over a pint or three.
And that is about the sum total of my fishing since the last update. I've been sick as a dog though, and the closest I've got otherwise is stocking a few fly boxes. Looking out of the window, I haven't missed any very glorious days on the bank. And other things are also pending- like the tricky task of judging the 2013 Fly For Coarse Competition. I hope our esteemed panel of Matt Hayes and John Bailey find it easier than me to pick through some belting entries, including two absolutely mighty fly caught pike, cracking chub, carp and even a bream!

Sleepless in Paradise

It's June the 16th. Which must be why it's raining relentlessly. And I didn't even go to the river. Instead I've been back to Anglers Paradise for a long overdue return. Two nights of fishing in the excellent company of Chris Lambert have yielded everything summer fishing should be about: screaming runs, some genuine surprises and lily infested swims discussed over glass or two of cider. I just love the main lake here. The next bite could be anything- like this terrific 4.12lb golden tench I took on maggots yesterday.


My approach to fishing these lakes is simple at the moment. I tackle up one rod with a large bait for big fish, while the other line is aimed solely at earning bites. I have a lot of faith in feeder tactics and dead maggots at present. For the price of four pints, you get one heck of a lot of bait. Preparation is easy- I riddle the maggots and replace the dust with a potent ground bait. Any strong smelling stuff is ideal, and I'm currently getting excellent results with the Bait Factory mixes I'm testing.

I feed my swim much like a match angler, continually adding small amounts and regularly recasting a small method feeder crammed with sticky, matching ground bait. The beauty of a decent bunch of maggots is that you'll catch fish of all sizes- and with persistent feeding, the bigger fish tend to show later as you build the swim. On my previous night session, maggots accounted for this fine 19lb linear mirror:


I must admit, I never sleep brilliantly when night fishing. You get into a kind of "half-sleep" mode of relaxed readiness, and I usually spend the following afternoon knackered. Especially when big fish make raids in the wee silly hours as they have been lately. Chris had a sensationally long cat fish last time out (do check out his "Fish Tales" blog for a fun read and ramblings on Everton FC). Last night was my turn to hook one- and spend the twenty minutes heaving, holding on and cursing. Strangely, it hadn't gone for a meaty bait this time but picked up a Fennel and Hemp boilie (vegetarian catfish?!!). The reel sounded like it was in pain in the pitch black. Bats were circling the rod as drag strained. Even with a pretty robust carp set up, these fish try and almost succeed in pulling your arms out of their sockets. It was pretty intense, but Chris was cool as you like in scooping her out. Wow!


While I wouldn't describe cats as beautiful, they're certainly beautifully designed for their job as nocturnal killing and scavenging machines. After the most dirtiest, most gut wrenching battle this cat of 32.12 was surprisingly well behaved on the mat. Slimy, but very docile. Nor was the cat our last surprise as Chris landed a grass carp at dawn.

There really is a terrific variety of sport at the complex, whether it's pleasure or specimen fishing. The trout lake is also very interesting and I'm hoping to provide future visitors with tuition on the fly.
In other news, I'm also raring to go for the BFFI (British Fly Fair International) next weekend. I hope to catch one or two of you there for the event, which I always find fantastic for finding new materials, ideas and like minded nutters. Plenty of homework before then however, tying up flies. For any of you keen to get your hands on coarse fish patterns, do remember I can offer a bespoke service. Here's a box of traditional spiders tied specially for a customer in the USA:

Full Time Fishing

Once upon a time in the summer holidays, my folks warned me that if I went fishing every day I would get bored stiff. They were wrong, which is just as well given the way things have turned out this summer, with stacks of outings having to be crammed into those rare settled days. The part of my brain which should say "ok, time to do something else" is missing. Perhaps the title of my current piece for American quarterly "The Flyfish Journal" sums it up best: "It Takes a Different Kind of Idiot". In defence of all angling fanatics however, fishing must be the most varied sport in the world. Unlike those who throw darts, or row boats, or play football as a way of life, there are an almost infinite array of settings, methods, species and stories waiting to be explored. Sometimes you focus your efforts like a laser beam on just one outcome- but an equally fascinating exercise is to see just how many different species and swims you can tackle in just one day. My midweek mission was just this, partly out of sheer curiosity and partly because of the need to scout out a whole host of locations prior to a filming session for the "Tight Lines" show on Sky Sports. I feel honoured to be approached, as well as relieved to have given what I hope will be a fun demonstration of catching coarse species on the fly. I won't spoil the outcome for you- the footage goes live on August 10th. Perhaps the only slight drawback was that the inevitable biggest fish of the lot arrived when the cameras had already departed, in the shape of this cracking fly caught canal chub: The fish nipped at a small trout lure I had tweaked through the home patch of a shoal of these fish. I'm not sure it was a feeding response, but more an aggressive reaction to something loud invading their home turf beneath a bridge on the Taunton to Bridgwater cut. If there's one thing I love about summer fly fishing with coarse species in mind, it's the fact that you always have a chance of good sport, even in the middle of a hot day when conventional bait fishing is often rubbish. The total reverse of a session at Anglers Paradise, where daylight hours were a great chance to share a cold beer and make new friends with the carp nuts of the 5Cs, but action on the rods only arrived in the cool of the night. 3am to be specific, but worth a poor nights sleep for this lovely common carp from the main lake: It's great to get amongst bigger fish now and again, but at heart my favourite fishing still has less to do with figures than wasting time in wild places. The Little Dart near Witheridge is just such a location, and I had the great pleasure of a day out with Russ Hilton scrambling through cover, flipping low casts in awkward swims and totally absorbed in this beautiful lost stream, part of the great value "Westcountry Angling Passport" scheme. For my money these are fish that defy the cliches of the sport, that bring you closer to the childlike joy of fishing for the sheer hell of it. These trout are modest in size but unsurpassed in beauty- little painted savages that challenge your skills and thrill the senses more than overfed stock fish fifty times the size. With sedate fishing on tap it seems virtually nobody is fishing for them, but what experiences there are to be had on our wild streams. This half pounder was just one of many equally striking wild browns.

Scales, Spots & Sunshine

If fishing were about beauty rather than size, we'd all be having very different debates about the "perfect" fish. But would your vote go to a stocked or wild fish? Fishing for carp at Angler's Paradise I found my usual assumptions turned upside down after catching some stunning looking fish- not big, but the most incredible pearl gold coloured mirrors. The name "Fatboys" lake perhaps does a disservice to these perfectly proportioned carp which fairly glow in the sun.

The Angler's Nirvana section of the complex was as quiet as a mouse for our visit- a dead mouse perhaps, judging by the evidence we found on the bank! Last spring I was taken aback by the sheer beauty of a circling barn owl on the lush, grassy banks here- this time no owl, but plenty of evidence in the form of owl pellets:

Aside from some fun fishing, we had curry and a glass or three of wine at Zyg Gregorek's famous bar. It was also a good chance to bring my other half, Jo, back on the bank after a long absence. Predictably she caught the best fish- and lost a much bigger one too. Check out the links on my site for more on Angler's Paradise.


As for Devon's wild trout, the fishing has been surprisingly tricky on the streams. A bone dry April meant low river levels and not a great deal hatching on a visit to the South Yeo, part of the Westcountry Angling Passport scheme.

It proved to be a real hands and knees job. Beetles were the only creatures notable by their abundance, with occasional splashy rises telling their own story under the gnarled branches and undercut banks.

Having lost a decent fish, I managed a few smaller ones to diminutive traditional flies such as the Beacon Beige (see the site for last season's Total Flyfisher article on this fly)- but wished I'd tied a few more Coch-y-bonddu flies in small sizes to match the hatch. Never mind, it is great to be back on the streams- beautiful fish and beautiful places. I'll let you decide whether a brown trout or a golden mirror carp wins this week's beauty contest. Not entirely sure I can decide!

Wild Tales at the Court of King Gregorek

Some days a writer's lot is a joy, on others it is a test. Sometimes it is both. How, for example, do you sum up a character as vivid as Zyg Gregorek in the space of a short article? After a close shave in Karachi where he was within an hour or two of becoming a hostage, Angling Times were keen to get a sketch of this grand angling eccentric.
Far from being a freak event, Zyg's latest adventure seems hardly out of place in a lifetime of strange twists and colourful tangents. And yet there lies the paradox- an undeniably zany character and self-proclaimed hedonist, yet also a businessman with lazer sharp focus. One time refugee, adventure fishing nut, wine brewer, obsessive collector, fish breeder, thrill seeker.. the list goes on and little elaboration seems necessary in charting the life of the Angler's Paradise boss. It was an interview to raise more eyebrows than a streaker at the Conservative Party Conference... but for more you'll just have to get the Angling Times on Tuesday!

In my own madder moments when I imagine a future Britain as some kind of angling Utopia, I picture Zyg as its president. The economy would be based entirely on fishing tackle. The currency wouldn't be pounds or Euros but flies. Fishing would be free and participation compulsory. State meetings would be attended in waders. All roads would be replaced by canals. Because of a fish heavy diet we would all live to the age of 107 and be geniuses. Strange how a glass or two of Zyg's wine tends to give you ideas...
Talking of wine, the bar at Angler's Paradise itself is also well worth a visit for the sheer spectacle of the curiosities on display: where else can you see cased eels and golden rudd, fish on tables and posts, marlin and swordfish jutting from the walls?


Back in the less colourful outside world my concern over hydropower continues. The scope for damage to rivers both in the Westcountry and nationwide is simply too glaring to ignore and so I was quick to agree when BBC Devon wanted an angling spokesman for a midweek programme. The archimedes screw we saw was perhaps the best of several less than ideal options for fish. Even so, there is no such thing as "free" energy- and our rivers could pay a high price should they be used as a simple commodity to generate power for the government and easy money for land owners.