Fly For Coarse Weekend 2015

I type these words tired, but enthused after an epic weekend of fishing in great company, after the first ever Fly For Coarse summer bash. The idea was a footloose two days on different venues, with lots of species to chase. Which is why, slightly fuzzy headed from parts as far away as Sussex, we were gathered by the canal, early enough to draw some funny looks from the locals.

Which is where we come in really. With David West Beale, getting a bit of lip from a lady on a boat with a face like a disappointed teabag. He had spotted a solid perch in the central track, and was about to cast.
"You're not allowed fish within forty feet of my boat."

David was polite, bless him. I think I'd have pretended not to hear her, and got at least one cast in, before taking the piss out of her. But we saved the hassle and kept walking, and it didn't seem to matter because the whole canal was a picture. There were shapes everywhere- of roach, rudd and jack pike, occasional bream or tench, but also a steady breeze.

For the sake of the visitors though, I was mainly just glad to see the canal so clear. Among the faithful were fly enthusiasts Ian Sheridan, John Maskell and Andy Field. We mixed and matched tactics, with most starting on small wet flies. Among several hits and misses we landed roach and rudd, including one or two quite big ones, with small spiders and bead heads working best.


The Bridgwater to Taunton Canal can be fascinating for this- with miles to explore the next thing you see could be a shoal of small perch or a three pound chub. But I had also predicted we would find good perch. It's great fun fishing with mates, because you can chop and change methods, swap rods and spot fish for each other.



David West Beale had brought along some lovely perch flies and a light predator fly outfit, so I was quick to point out a good perch I had spotted in the main track of the canal. But until he cast, I hadn't noticed the other three fish in the swim, all a decent size. He put out a cautious, short cast first- but even though the biggest perch was some three or four metres away, he came hustling forward. With a single twitch the lips flared open, and with a careful haste, David had guided her into the net.


Wow! It was a really mean perch, an ounce over two pounds and a true canal specimen. The grin didn't leave his face for several hours I think- while the others all got plenty of bites and caught further roach, rudd, hybrids and bream.


Silver bream also followed, while the only hooked pike was one that had snapped at a small roach I was playing in, before letting go.
We walked for miles over the two days, to give everyone their dues. There were some great wise cracks, and some healthy needless competition between Ian and John, who are the sort of close friends who show their brotherhood by relentlessly taking the piss out of each other.

But perhaps what I like most about these gatherings is the exchange of enthusiasm and ideas. You get to have a cheeky look in other people's fly boxes, chew the fat and drink in some late summer sunshine.



After a long walk on the Taunton Angling Association waters, we were hot and really enjoyed that first pint. Some made their long way back, but for me and Dave there was still time for some late action on the canal. Fearing that the light was dying, we could still make out some silhouettes just under the surface. Chub!

I tried a flick with a small fly, but it just didn't register with the next fish I cast to. So instead, I reached for probably my favourite canal chub fly- the Spider Sedge (a long shank hook, soft mobile hackle and also a traditional feather wing). I lost sight of the fly but saw the chub I had cast in front of rise a little, and white lips gobble.

These chub are not exactly common on the canal, but always welcome and often a decent size. This one must have been a couple of pounds of thereabouts.


In fact, that late action, and the likely muddy state of the River Tone, sealed it for us. So David and I headed to a different bit of canal the next morning.

To cut a long story short, we added more miles and a few more fish to the bargain. Frustratingly though, I just couldn't find the shoals of better rudd, although roach obliged and I also caught both hybrids and a solitary silver bream. Nice for variety if nothing else. David also got bites, but struggled to tempt much of size- although perch and the odd pike would follow, they just weren't quite crazy for it. No fear- because he had a long journey back.

With a couple of hours to kill on the way home though, I decided to have a quick look at another bit of river alone. Actually, I'm glad it was just me, because the banks were horrible. Such is the way with good chub fishing. But here I'm talking nettles, brambles and all too often that horror of horrors: Himalayan Balsam.

I had been walking on an overgrown bank when the next step took me sliding abruptly into a seven foot drop, right in thick nettles and muddy reeds. It's lucky I'm tall really. Otherwise I might have been stung far worse- but it was one of those nasty moments. And there then follows the horrible process of trying to clamber up the bank, up to your armpits in stinging nettles.

Thoughts run through your head in these testing moments: "You idiot, what are you doing here?! You're stung to shit and the river is too coloured…"
But crazily, from my new position I started to see rises upstream. Worth a go?

The stings were tedious, but I decided to get wadered up and be bold- I had already been humiliated by almost falling in, so what the hell? Better prepared this time, I managed to get myself into two or three decent positions, using the reach of my ten foot four weight to reach out over the foliage.

Because of the high, still fairly muddy water I went big and bold with fly choice, fishing my wasp pattern, the "Jasper" or some grasshoppers I've been tying lately. The fish were surprisingly keen to rise, given the murky condition of the water. A missed a good solid fish beside an overhanging bush, before tempting one of his shoal mates to come up and gulp. I can think of more glamorous places to spend your Sunday, but this chub was worth it:

Coarse surprises for spring

I’ve enjoyed some really interesting sessions this past couple of weeks, despite much of my free time being squeezed, crunched or written off. This is definitely a huge benefit of lure or fly fishing though; you can be packed and ready to fish in seconds. Nor is a lack of time my problem solely- it’s the same for loads of my friends who lead equally busy lives and seldom manage to get a full day in. I strongly suspect this is part of the reason why the fishing world is changing, and light, mobile methods are the in thing at the moment.

Sometimes, admittedly, it can take me a good hour to forget my to do list and all the shit rattling around in my brain. But I know of no better place to throw it all into the depths than a little estate lake I’ve been frequenting for about a year now. Not the cheapest, for a skinflint such as I, but very pretty and very rich in insect life. A handful of others fish for the carp with bait, but I just love wandering about with the fly rod. I tend to take two set ups: a four weight for rudd and hybrids, plus a nine weight for the carp, which really take some stopping. On those days when nobody else is around to bother, I also sometimes take a little boat out.


Perhaps the dry, hot days this spring are the culprit, but it hasn’t been all plain sailing due to quite coloured water- and the same goes for the canals. This makes spotting the fish harder, and also makes it harder for them to spot your flies. Bigger spiders have worked though (up to a size 12) along with red or claret buzzers with a little flash. Sometimes a tag team of two is better than one also, if only to double your chances in coloured water. If nothing else the rudd have obliged:



Funny fish these. Shy, too, where they don’t see a lot of humans. Make a shit cast and they flee like a gun has gone off. Land it right, with the flies settling gently where they can see them and they’ll take with zero hesitation, making you wonder why you ever found it difficult ten minutes ago. I’ve yet to spy a really big one, but there are loads in the 6oz to 1lb class that kick very pleasantly on light gear- in fact, not even the lightest match rod gives a better buzz.

Other, stranger things are also stirring. I think they’re rudd bream or roach bream hybrids. I pick my words carefully because I’m not sure and I’ve never seen a true bream in this little lake. They do like forming a squadron a foot or two under the surface though, sometimes mixing with the better rudd. Sink a fly to one stealthily and they’ll often take at the first time of asking. Although a lot of anglers see them as not entirely desirable, they do tend to fight harder per pound than either rudd or bream. This one took a claret buzzer:


The beauty of a natural, mixed fishery is that you're never quite sure what you'll encounter next. For some coarse fish, such as bream and tench, I rarely go all out for them but will usually fish for bites with an easier species like roach, rudd or perch, but always be prepared to have a cast at any bonuses that show up. The value of always being ready cannot be too keenly stressed either: when that surprise fish comes into view, you simply must be ready to make an instant delivery, rather than faff around trying to find the fly or untangle the fly line.

For the sake of my curiosity as much as anything else, I'm always scanning the water and dipping a net into the edge to see what I might be able to copy. Midges are a given, but there are also stacks of water boatmen, shrimp and -not to be confused- hog lice like this chap:



When it comes to the actual fishing though, provided you pick flies that look naturally edible and present them in the right way, you have a chance. Hare's Ears, Shrimps and dark spiders are all useful staples that will catch various coarse fish.
The other conspicuous customers on the last session were the carp, but these can be harder to tempt. I blew it with a couple of nice fish that I got too close to, but also elicited a take from a solid looking mirror carp. Had I delayed the strike, rather than lifting too early, I might have had much bigger end to the session.


In other news, I’ve also been mixing a bit of work with pleasure down on the edge of Cornwall. My day job is copywriting, but I also like to make the most of my photography skills to go with my words. The Jamaica Inn is one of those really quirky, genuinely different and historic places that I’ve been helping to promote. This particular photo shoot involved Murphy; not an Irishman, but a beautiful black and white-masked horse. Suitably gothic looking for one of the most haunted places in Cornwall.


You can read all about an interesting session on Colliford Lake on the new Turrall Flies blog, which also comes with a chance to win a selection of my favourite flies for the venue. All you have to do is follow us on Facebook or Twitter and share the post.

Toothy Edits

I am a total mash of different emotions at the moment. 2011 will have been perhaps the busiest year of my life, with two books now in their final proofs and design stages. There's still a while to wait for publication in each case, but it's exciting already just to see "Fly Fishing for Coarse Fish" now listed on Amazon to preorder! I am especially proud of the cover shot- one of the best of some 20 000 taken in the last twelve months. Behind one glossy book cover is a campaign of muddy, long haul trips and endless planning and writing- some disappointments but also some remarkable catches I hope.
The real thrill will perhaps be to contribute something of a permanent reference point in angling. Magazine features are great, but they're there and then they're gone. A hardback with over 200 pages of my best words and pictures is very different. On the home straight, my feelings are mixed to say the least- relief, trepidation, pride, a hint of exhaustion. If nothing else, I hope plenty of fellow anglers enjoy "Fly Fishing for Coarse Fish" and give something new a try. Some of the chapters took real determination (tench, zander), but other species are just so perfectly suited to fly fishing I can't quite fathom why we're not already flyfishing for chub, rudd, carp etc in our droves.

Text is one thing, but I also wanted to show the methods in practise with a DVD of the same title, which includes roach, rudd, carp and last of all pike, which I've just finished filming with Steve Lockett. Film work is a very different pressure- juggling different camera angles with a loose script and the need to catch in a limited time frame. A slow start on the Levels didn't help, with rains really stirring up my chosen drain. Having taken just one tiny pike, plan B was an afternoon on the Taunton to Bridgwater Canal.


A smart move as it turned out, because the water was much clearer and although hardly on fire I managed a further five pike to around 5lbs. The best fly seemed to be a pink number, which really stood out and was also, interestingly, the only colour to get any response in coloured water early in the day.
Credit is also due to film maker Steve Lockett, my partner in crime for the DVD. From the footage you might guess there were several cameras- when in truth it's just one intrepid camera man- scaling banks, dodging casts and getting up to the armpits in cold water. You'll have to watch this space for a trailer- but most of the project save some fly tying sequences is now finished.

Piking in the Pink

With autumn so mild, I've been having a rethink of late and getting back to the fishing I love best. Or, to give you the other side of the tale, I've grabbed the fly rod again after getting bored stiff with dead baits. On short sessions on the canal I haven't seen my float drift away so much as my life drift away. The ensuing boredom and car smelling like a fishmonger's dustbin spelled time for a change. The right move, as a couple of enjoyable sessions have proven. Lots of hits, lots of fun and on today's bash at the Levels a lovely double figure pike that was a riot on a fly rod and reminded me exactly what I've been missing.


Joining me for this one was fellow pike angler Dave Smith, who also had a series of smash and grab hits from pike on both the Bridgwater to Taunton Canal and River Tone. The early morning was electric- and interestingly the fly proved king in clear water at the start, while it was Dave's lures which came out in front later on in slightly more coloured water.

Either way, we were both as happy as pigs in muck and when the action slowed we were just as captivated by the glorious autumn colours.

Natural beauty is a phrase that wouldn't apply to todays best flies though- the fish seemed to like loud best, a dash of hot pink to be precise. Slow sinking flies are spot on for the canal, but moving on to the river later on it was a clouser style, dumbbell head fly that did the honours- just one of several designs that will feature in "Fly Fishing for Coarse Fish". This "jig fly" pattern fishes really deep, ideal for teasing just off the bottom when the pike are sitting tight. It's also a great zander weapon.

Talking of the Tone, we had a great session but a bit of a sour start. I'm not one to turn the other cheek with rule breakers and the sight of an angler tackling steep banks with no net or mat (and a friend with a plastic bag) really got my goat. I asked this idiot how he ever hoped to land a lively pike on sheer banks- no answer, so I asked him to pack up and leave, which he did. I'm not even a Taunton bailiff- but until all of us start challenging such poor practise the result will be dead and damaged fish. Anybody turning up to a carp fishery with no net or mat would be sent packing- and the same should be true of pike anglers.

My little rant over, the afternoon was simply beautiful looking across the huge plains of Somerset. The pike gave us some big hits and the skies were so vivid I spent the rest of the day torn between fly rod and camera. The Levels really are at their finest in the autumn, the reddish land and golden last light such a stirring combination. Stunning scenery, great sport and a day to savour.

Surprises on a fly rod

The end of the trout season is very much looming, but there are plenty of other reasons I just can't put down the fly rod currently. Indeed, I'm beginning to think that the fly is a lot more versatile than many would believe. An ultra light session on the Bridgewater to Taunton canal proved a real safari with Seb and two local bailiffs. The lads chose lures, and the initial aim was pike- but with so many other species showing I soon got "distracted". First up were some lovely rudd.

My tackle was rather heavy for these, so after spooking a few I tried a much longer leader with better success. I only had a few small flies, but emergers seem to work very well- if the fish take off the top, fantastic, but if not then it's just a little tweak and you have a sinking fly. And it was this tactic which also snared a real bonus in the form of a tench!

This fish had been spotted cruising around the near side. I still had the emerger on, but again cast well ahead of the fish and gave this a healthy pull to sink it. A little twitch as the fish approached and the tench homed in, before to my surprise he hovered right over the fly and gobbled it up without a second thought. A quick strike and it was on- rather hairy on rudd tackle and just as well it was a small one. A crazy catch then- and I also added roach and a jack pike, and hooked and lost another nice rudd on a small streamer! The lure anglers had no pike, but completed a real A-Z of canal fish with some flawless perch- just look at those autumn colours:

What a crazy day- definitely in the "you couldn't make it up" category! The fish were great, but I think we may have been over optimistic judging by the landing net size- although the head bailiff's daughter made a very cute ghillie:

The trout season also ended on a high at Roadford with a short, breezy session after browns. The margins were a little wind- churned, but just beyond the colour line were plenty of trout, all more than willing to snatch a small dark fly. A zulu or cruncher seemed to work best, whilst some little perch also showed up to small lures.


After all the fun and games however, a day on Chew proved less successful. After several hours with no sign of pike, we switched to trout. It was one of those sessions however- lots of buzzers coming off the water but surprisingly fussy trout. Dries earned a few takes in the end but it was a tale of hooked two lost two. With such a dry summer you can also see just how low our lakes are, and perhaps some decent rain wouldn't hurt (be careful what you wish for Dominic!):