Kayak Fishing Lessons & Cool Spring Days

April has been a massive hectic, month for me in terms of both passing on experience and learning some new skills. One of the great joys of fishing is that there is always new knowledge to pick up as well as pass on. Sometimes it's a gradual thing- but in my case lately it has been more a case of jumping in.



My current leap in the fishing world is perhaps one of the biggest I’ve ever made, however, as I’ve decided to try kayak fishing. It’s something I’ve had my eye on for several seasons if the truth be told. Regular readers will know that I’ve enjoyed a fair bit of float tubing in the past; it’s a cheap, highly mobile way of getting afloat. But limited in other respects, particularly when it comes to sea fishing.

So why go the kayak route? Well, for those of us without the income or space to buy a big scale fishing boat, a kayak is a realistic option to get the freedom of boat fishing without the silly sized bill. So when fishing oriented specialists Channel Kayaks approached me with the offer to use one of their craft for a year and review it, I jumped at it. I mean, why the hell wouldn’t you? I live 25 minutes from the sea, not to mention some nice lakes that allow boats, such as Roadford.

Regular readers will already know I’m honest and skeptical about tackle and kit, having had mixed experiences with companies in the past to put it mildly. So I hope in the coming weeks and months I’ll be able to give you a warts and all account of my journey into kayak fishing- the bits I like, the bits I don’t like and, in a nutshell, whether I take to it or not. I mean, what's the worst that can happen? Actually... the worst that can happen is that you can drown but we'll get into that a bit later.

Anyhow, it should be interesting stuff and I want to record my experiences. Not in the style of "look at what an expert I am" (quite the opposite!), but as the guy figuring out the various aspects of how to go kayak fishing and, who knows, perhaps asking some of the dumb questions and making mistakes so others among you don't have to...




How (not) to start kayak fishing
So, after the initial feeling of “Wahey! These idiots are going to lend me a kayak for the whole summer!” I had to make the thorny decision of which model to go for. A tricky one really, because while I might well be flying (or paddling?) solo, I also liked the idea of a two person kayak for fishing trips (secretly hoping they could help with elbow grease when I get knackered).


Does such a thing as a versatile one or two person kayak exist then? Turns out it does with the Tandem Bass kayak that was recommended to me; you can fix two seats on board, or convert to just one in the middle.



A big win? Um, sort of. Once you’re in the water, yes. When you have to hoist the thing onto your car, not quite so much, because this means you have more weight to lift. It is doable though and as far as a suitable compromise goes, this seemed the best option. If you're flying solo, the lighter one man "Bass" kayak would be more sensible (and cheaper too, at just shy of £400). All include comfy seats and rod rests too, which is a big bonus- you can see these are designed by anglers (as opposed to just being marketed for anglers). Granted, it's not peanuts- but the last time I engaged in fishing kayak reviews (in Flyfishing & Fly Tying Magazine), the craft were well over a thousand just for a basic model- too much for me, while the inflatables and cheap versions often look duff or outright scare me to death (note to my Devon friends: please don't go shark fishing in an inflatable dinghy again. I'd rather not be at your funeral).


Basic kayak safety & skills
On one level, I never quite grow up with fishing related stuff. Give me new kit and I just want to get out and fish. But when you’re dealing with tides, waves and the elements you do have to take a reality check and be prepared. So quite sensibly, Byron from Channel Kayaks recommended me a session on Clevedon Marine Lake for a crash course in kayaking basics. Probably sensible, because if I were to drown on my maiden voyage, not only would my folks be upset, there wouldn’t be any kind of review. Unless you consider a police/coastguard report a “review”.

Joking aside, fishing can be a dangerous sport (statistically you're more likely to die on a fishing trip than in a rugby match or even a skydiving trip!). Just because you have a life jacket and can swim, it doesn’t mean you are invincible. There is risk and to be unprepared is stupid, hence I wanted a kayak starter session with no fishing involved, at least initially.

Kayaking looks easy when you watch others do it. But there are various little skills and safety bits you really ought to learn before you’re ready to venture out properly. I didn't want to get too bogged down on this blog- but I've written on the basic skills and things like what to do if you fall in on a guest slot for the Channel Kayaks blog, after they very kindly have me a training session to get me started. You might want a look just for the entertainment value of seeing me fall in and then demonstrate how to clamber back into a kayak (CLICK HERE).



Fishing from the Kayak
Having completed my paddling and safety basics, it was time for the more fun part- testing the kayak for fishing and in two person mode! Heck, even I can only concentrate for so long before I start thinking about fishing. I know what you're thinking: there can't be any fish in Clevedon Marine Lake, right? It looks nothing more than a big and fairly lifeless concrete swimming pool, for goodness sake.

It actually turns out I was wrong here. Sitting right by the Bristol Channel, it gets a fresh influx of sea water on big tides. Fish, shrimps, crabs and the rest come in, but not all of them remember to leave. Non anglers have seen sea fish topping and moving, including the odd flatfish or dogfish, while the crabbers get the occasional blenny in their nets. I'm not saying it's prolific- but it could just be a quirky spot to have a cast (when it's quiet and you're not annoying swimmers or canoeists obviously!).



Anyhow, purely as a test I had brought along a light fishing outfit, just to see how it felt fishing from the kayak. Impressively stable, is my honest impression. Last time I fished from a kayak was in Finland; it was an ancient Canadian thing and the slightest movement made it veer all over the place. But these "sit on" kayaks are so different to the "sit in" versions. I am not a light human being nor one with a low centre of gravity, to put it mildly. And if I can sit on the edge, with my feet in the water, and fish, virtually anyone can. Furthemore, the new, hollow-bodied boats are very tough and virtually unsinkable. And yes, I tried during my trial. Just like with my fishing gear I like to see where the weak points are BEFORE, not during the event.

I had a little go with LRF type lures, anyhow, for no longer than half an hour admittedly, because it is April and you appreciate just how cold the water still is when you've been in it several times. I caught nothing- but then again, even the dad and lad crabbing in the corner blanked, which probably tells you it's too early. For the novelty alone though I may well come back.

Fish or no fish, I was pleasantly surprised by the kayak as a fishing platform. Built in rod holders are snug too and you get several, plus two posher kayak rod mounts, as standard. Another thing a lot of kayak anglers surely must ask though, is "what happens if I drop my rod or paddle?" If you are unlucky, the answer is " it disappears and you never see it again." Which is why I would recommend buying a leash or three:



These are made for retaining paddles- and very sensible too because you're not going anywhere other than the proverbial sh** creek without a paddle. But they also provide one of the best ways to avoid losing rods when kayak fishing.

Kayak fishing sessions to come
So, having completed my crash course in kayaking, it shouldn't be too long until I hit the water for a day out. I'll let you know how I get on. The sea is an obvious target, but I also get the feeling that this would be great fun on lakes- if you can only get past the health and safety Nazis. Permission can be a sod (it's the same issue with float tubing). But there are a few freshwater options I'll be exploring over the summer.

One of the most exciting of all options this summer is a series of kayak fishing days on Wimbleball Lake, also being run by Channel Kayaks. Hats off really, because permission is the main barrier to trying. With kayak and gear hire plus a fishing ticket for under £100 these look just the ticket and I've already wangled a place on the event taking place on June 1st. Grab a look at the event details HERE for more info- but if you ever wanted to try kayak fishing without risking a fair sized investment, this is very much the way to do it and from what I've seen so far this looks great (Chris Ogborne is one of the guides on these days, who is not only a great host but a former international angler of huge knowledge!).

Guided Fishing Update
The other thing I am hugely looking forward to hugely this summer is taking more visitors out for guided fishing trips in Devon and Cornwall. There have already been some lovely highlights in the spring- not least of all teaching two intrepid brothers Oscar and Austin to fish at St. Tinney Farm with their father.

Now, a lot of boys of this age just want to get fishing and casting and, as much as I love their enthusiasm, a lot of what I say tends to go in one ear and out the other. Not with these two though. You could tell they have a school teacher in the family with mum, because they sat, watched and listened ever so well to learn how to set up a float, how to plumb the depth and all those other little basic angling skills that are so important.



The result of listening (for adults and kids aike!) is obvious; you catch more fish! They fished the margins very stealthily and effectively indeed. Best of all was when both hooked into fish at the same time. I think I was as thrilled as they were- hopefully a day they won't forget in a hurry!



In other guiding, I've also given recent pike and trout fishing lessons in East Devon and beyond. Whether it is a holiday activity, or a fiftieth birthday treat, I am always happy to oblige if I can. Sometimes I can take bookings at short notice too, but the diary does get crazy in the summer so it's usually best to give me plenty of warning and ask about dates; all the details are on my site HERE.

Fishing Blogs and Articles on the way...

Last but not least, you may or may not have seen some of the other bits I've been producing, editing and writing lately. Not so long ago, the digital world was a totally unpaid minority of what I did as an angler. But in perhaps just three years, that has all changed. And while I always will be a devotee of books and print media, blogging is becoming just as vital. Here are some recent entries that really stood out, both from me and a couple of others:



Top 5 Urban Fly Fishing Tips: A fantastic little blog from my good friend and keen urban angler Theo Pike


Lake District Tarn Fishing: Beautiful artwork and reflections from artist and Cumbria based angler Scott Winstanley.

Fly Fishing in Muddy Waters: My own recent blog for Turrall, with some sound advice and hard-learned lessons on catching when our streams and rivers are fickle.


Otherwise, you'll find more musings, fishing ramblings and nonsense from me in the newly revamped Angling Times (collectible first issue in the new format out on Tuesday 26th April 2016), Fallon's Angler Issue 6 (which features a fishing trip in Cold War Berlin with the General) and various places elsewhere. I've also been back at the mini species and LRF fishing, with mixed results to say the least. Life has just got too busy to post it all on the blog quite frankly, but do keep reading and watch this space for more...

Sunburned Glory

This latest blog instalment comes with a slight health warning. This might be England and it might be decidedly cold when you load the car at 5 in the morning. But that's no excuse not to pack some sun screen. It's a lesson I learned the hard way as I was slowly toasted.
A session at Linhay Pond, on the Rackerhayes complex, began in idyllic style however. Cool mist and the odd rolling fish. It wasn't so much the sun, but the great depths of the lake that I had anticipated being the crux of the challenge.

The pole is one obvious way, but for me it was an excellent excuse to dig out the 15ft Hardy Marksman float rod- a great weapon where the bottom plummets away alarmingly quickly. I was joined by Russ Hilton, who reckoned the tench would be patrolling just where the weed stopped and the margin dropped to a good 8-10 feet. And as tends to be the case, the bugger was correct! I put in four balls of ground bait laced with chopped worm and caster and it didn't take long for the wrestling to begin:

Sport wasn't exactly rapid, but bloody hell do tench fight well. And in the gaps, Russ also caught plenty on the whip, while I slowly got frazzled. I could have posted up a picture of my sorry, red, sweaty shoulders, but instead here's a random photo of a bee:

Was it worth it all in the end? I'm tempted to say yes, because the tench were beautiful. Not small by Devon standards either. Perhaps the whole tench fishing scene has been crashed by fat gravel pit fish that grow enormous- but in the Westcountry, a fish of six pounds is still pretty respectable, not to mention beautiful. This was the best of three:

The session was very much a case of quality rather than quantity. Would we have got more bites fishing lighter? I can't say, but with hooklengths of 5-6lbs, you're much safer. A size 16 hook and a worm and caster cocktail was by far the best bait on the day.
The idea was that I was to return home looking like a Greek. The reality was more like a lobster. Joking aside, do be warned- the sun is no laughing matter and when you're enjoying your fishing it's incredibly easy to forget about protection.
My next trip by waters was without the rod, but this time with plenty of sun block. I had a wonderful walk with Paulina to Ladram Bay in fact, where I took the picture below. It was a really lovely scene: the youngster and his dad approached the old angler and no doubt he was asked all those sorts of questions that six year olds are so excellent at randomly coming up with:


I'm also in the process of answering some of met own questions with the arrival of a rather novel book this week from my good friend the angler and conservationist Theo Pike. "The Pocket Guide to Balsam Bashing and How to Tackle Other Non-native Species" is a fascinating if alarming read. Documenting all manner of undesirables from mink and crayfish to horrible, alien plants this pocket sized guide makes eye-opening reading. Most importantly of all though, it also explains how you can do your bit to stem the tide of these unwanted blighters, whether that means reporting, cutting down or even dispatching with boot or bullet. Perhaps those which I particularly hate the most are Himalayan Balsam (which is everywhere these days) and the dreaded mink (the main reason I haven't seen a water vole for over a decade). I took the shot below as a bit of a joke- but the issue of invasive species is very serious. The most important weapon is not a gun, but knowledge, which is why Theo's book could be extremely important.

Berries and Books

Isn't it funny how in fishing, as in life, we so often overlook answers that are there sitting right under our noses? On a recent trip to the canal at Bridgwater Docks with Russ Hilton, the answer to making a great catch was literally growing from the bank. We'd been catching plenty of small silver bream and roach but struggling to land anything bigger when I spotted something. Hanging there, over the skankiest bit of canal you could imagine, were bunches of ripe elderberries.

You've probably seen these growing by water on your own travels. Red branches, cute but rather sour little things. Back in the day they not only made wine out of them but used these to catch solid roach. It started with a little dare: "Go on, slip one on the hook, see what happens." The next few minutes were spell binding: slow, juicy bites and a cracking stamp of fish.

A fantastic run of roach, rudd and silver bream all in the space of a few casts. Russ was just as impressed. Like me, he has a thing about silver bream, which seemed especially partial to an elderberry. So often misidentified as skimmers, these dark-finned, large eyed fish are prolific in Somerset waters and very pretty they are too:

While Russ got more bites fishing on the drop, I had set my stall out for better fish on the bottom. It very nearly paid off as I hooked and lost what felt like a good tench on a berry! Even so, we both managed very tidy bags of fish on these traditional baits, which we used in conjunction with hempseed.

You might have noticed I've been spending a lot of time on canals this season- and on that note it's probably about time I disclosed a badly kept secret. My current book project is on canal fishing, to be published by Merlin Unwin books for early Spring 2014. And it's already two thirds written, amidst a haphazard tour of canals from here in the Westcountry to the Highlands of Scotland and everywhere in between. It has been a mammoth undertaking, but one I've really sunk my teeth into. I simply love canal fishing. As well as a phenomenal range of brilliantly mysterious and untapped fishing, canals have wonderful history. They have a deep nostalgia and are the kind of waters where every lead you follow leads to another three question marks.
As well as a bang up to date work on different species and techniques, the book will also be a complete guide to UK canals, with notable captures, hot areas and eye-opening trivia on scores of venues. What began as one of the most daunting challenges I've ever faced is coming together nicely however. Variety is hardly the word and my most recent stop took me to the heart of London on the Regents Canal.


Surprisingly beautiful and clear waters met me on the way to "Little Venice". This is intriguing, challenging fishing to say the least, perhaps illustrated by the sight of a large carp passing under the boats as I walked from Paddington Station. Along with the obligatory drowned traffic signs, trolleys and cormorants were scattered pockets of fish. The session wasn't plain sailing however and for the first couple of hours I couldn't buy a bite, even on a single pinkie on a size 20 hook. Expecting murkier water I hadn't taken any bread, which I kicked myself for. Nevertheless, after a move that good old canal staple of chopped worm earned me some bites from under the boats, and a couple of pretty, blank-saving perch:

The Sunday was then a jump to Merton in south London to meet up with the Wandle Piscators holding their "World Rivers Day" event. An intriguing selection of guests appeared, starting with organizer Jez Mallinson dying fly tying materials in little dishes that resembled the sort used by my mother for Sunday lunch:

Also on the traditional fishing crafts theme, Chris Reeves and Caroline Emmet were busy tying flies, with Steve Dedman making traditional river floats:

Along with Charles Rangely-Wilson and Theo Pike I made up one of a trio of authors signing books:


One of my favourite parts of these fishing events is when the real river fishing nuts turn up with trays full of mini beasts. You won't ever get a better chance to photograph the tiny critters of our waters at such close quarters, hence I just had to have a go with the camera. Here's a rather beautiful stone loach:

Bonus Time

Fishing is always such a subjective pastime as far as results are concerned. Weights, for example, are such a relative and often poor measurement of enjoyment. Would you rather catch a stack of fish from a heavily stocked water, for example, or a hard earned net of more realistic specimens from somewhere fairly wild? Canals are a point in case- unpredictable, fascinating places where it still represents some kind of achievement to winkle out a nice bag of fish. Russ Hilton, another big fan of more traditional waters, would no doubt agree. I had intended to take him fly fishing, but we decided to drop onto the Grand Western Canal for the morning first. We tackled up with bonus fish in mind, with relatively cute tackle and baits like caster, worm and hemp on the menu. Russ decided to use the pole, I went for a light waggler outfit. Sport was hardly hectic, but by feeding regular little helpings of bait several nice bonuses came our way. I usually feed a maggot line to keep me out of mischief, while letting a "bonus" line settle further out with regular doses of caster and chop. After some fun with small rudd down the middle, I was instantly rewarded casting a worm over my far bank line: I'm wondering if we should have weighed this perch in fact- it hardly matters, but it was a cracking fish for a little canal. Surprisingly the bite was quite slow and shy. It seemed to be worm that the better fish wanted, although it was such a cold start the swim had to be coaxed to life carefully rather than bombarded with bait. Russ was next to strike with a tench, also to worm. I wouldn't call it a red letter morning of fishing, but it was great fun and a typical slice of canal sport. The odd local chatterbox, twitchy rudd bites and some bugger's dog jumping in to finish off a swim that was already waning by midday. Bringing up the keepnet, I perhaps had a few more fish than I thought, not masses of bites but what was there was good quality. After an all day breakfast and a strong coffee to wake us up again, the second half of the day was spent fly fishing on the Lowman. A good decision it seemed, because after a quick casting lesson for Russ, we spotted several wily little trout and even some hatching olives. It's always a great pleasure to introduce another angler to something you enjoy so much yourself, and in no time Russ was pitching a dry fly into little runs and pools. A Beacon Beige or Klinkhamer brought them up a treat for some lively takes on the top and a stack of lively little trout, along with missed bites and the odd bit of tree. It took me right back to last season in fact, and my trip with urban fishing fanatic Theo Pike. The same spots were just as alive with trout and, lo and behold, the shopping trolley that features on my cover shot for Theo's new book is still exactly where it was before! With several entries on Devon waters, "Trout in Dirty Places" comes highly recommended for any of you looking for low cost (or no cost!) fly fishing.

Wandering the Wandle

With so many current stories of rivers being threatened, it's always nice to find a positive angle. The River Wandle, which topped this year's list of most improved river habitats, isn't so much a tale of recovery as a minor miracle. I met up with fellow angling scribe and Wandle conservationist Theo Pike to witness the surprising beauty of this former chalkstream for myself. It was to be a mission which neatly combined areas that each of us have focussed on lately- coarse fish on fly gear and urban angling.


Surrounded by supermarkets and fast food joints, it's a curious buzz to cast a line here. We felt a bit like naughty schoolboys as we were ticked off by a lady in a Marks and Sparks outfit for fishing on a bridge. A little further on though, we found plenty of good looking water to try with both nymphs and dry flies. I began on Czech Nymphs, but a pink shrimp was the stand out pattern- a mixed shoal of chub and roach darting out from a raft of debris to grab the thing. At the back of the shoal was a gold fish! Here's a chunky chub:



There are now so many kinds of fish in this once dead river, you could try any one of several methods- which we did. Further downstream Theo pointed out where barbel and trout can be found. Legering was a pain with all the drifting leaves, so I decided to trot a nice, deeper pool with a pin and stick float. Lovely fishing- with chub, dace, roach and even a rare Wandle perch. A day of plenty of action, as well as some fascinating info on this great little London river, rescued thanks to the work of those like Theo and groups such as the Wandle Piscators. It's also very democratic- free fishing for much of its length.

Dirty Towns & Wild Browns

The search for exciting, interesting fishing takes us to some wild, unspoiled places. It also takes us to some crusty, bizarre locations. I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that unlikely fishing is often good fishing. The trout in and around the Exe and Lowman in Tiverton are a prime example. Grubby surroundings, yes. But even the shadow of recent pollution doesn't seem to have killed a surprisingly rich environment. Visiting angling scribe Theo Pike has a particular interest in these urban gems, having taken an active role in restoring the River Wandle close to his own home in London. Visiting family in Devon, it seemed the perfect opportunity to have a crack at some similarly townie trout. It was nice not to be the only nutter walking about town with a fly rod anyway. Judging by a few kick samples, you could hardly call these urban waters infertile:

We found the trout highly receptive. The only bother they usually get here is an occasional misplaced clearance from the football pitches, or the odd rusty spinner or beer bottle. Appearances can be so deceptive though. Reminds me of some advise my dad once gave me- "never pick a fight with an ugly person..?." No, it was something about judging books by covers. And this particular book, is such a world away from its rather shoddy cover. Amidst the usual debris and a staggering four shopping trolleys and a drowning flat screen TV we picked our way through a series of curious little pools and runs. Theo opted for miniature sedge patterns in 16s to extract some lovely brown trout, looking every inch wild. Most were in the small but pretty stamp, although one or two really took us by surprise.

Are urban trout any different to those of more idyllic places? It seems that they are well used to the odd passer by, so perhaps spook less easily- or at least take less time to settle again after a misplaced cast. It was a week of urban fishing in fact, with some rudd, bleak, chub, a skimmer and even a lost tench on the Bridgwater stretch of canal.

All good fun then. Not the most peaceful fishing exactly, but there's always a curious excitement about catching fish from places where it doesn't look possible. I even managed to produce a trout simultaneously as a passing chav issued the classic "you won't catch nothing in there" line. I was about to point out that this was grammatically incorrect, but didn't want a punch in the face and the fish seemed a decent enough reply. I guess that the moral of the tale is not to judge the fishing by the scenery then. In fact, a strange setting only adds to interesting fishing. My favourite snap shot from a few erm, "vibrant", urban locations has to be this one however, Theo Pike trying to spot rising fish beneath the hulking mechanical arm of a neighbouring scrapyard. It's fly fishing Jim, but not as we know it: