Rough Rewards

Strange and often grim weather has been the challenge of recent fishing. Sure, you can stay in and just look out of the window with dread when the winds hit home and rivers rise. But quite often, braving rough conditions seems to result in good fishing.


To be brutally honest, I think I’ve got it wrong on quite a few days this season. I’ve chickened out in the gales and sat it out with baits. But the weather has been so mild this winter, you get the feeling that the pike are often still more willing to chase than pick up a static bait.

On slow pike fishing days, I start to think Exeter Ship Canal should be renamed Exeter Shit Canal. The rumours start to spread, about cormorants and poachers and tackle shy pike. I fished for two blanks on the trot with bait, before I got restless and tried a spot of fly fishing.

The weather looked absolutely foul that morning, as I hit the water I for first light. I could just about make the fly out as it returned to my feet. I snuck into a cramped little spot and tried the margin, just a few yards along the bank. Even the margins on these ship canals can be quite deep, so it’s important to let the fly sink and not retrieve too fast.

On this occasion, I tried a nine-weight set up and the monstrous pink fly my mate Dave West Beale calls The Gay Assassin. I’ve said it before, but pink is so underrated for pike and predator flies. It really stands out in almost any conditions. In this case I also add an obscene dose of flash too, with a generous pinch of UV tinsel such as Multiflash:



Encouraged by reasonable clarity, I had only made a couple of casts when something whacked the fly. A rush and then gone. Perhaps it hadn’t felt the hook or had some sort of prejudice against pink though, because the next take was even more savage.



Four or five pounds of lean, fit pike. And so it continued for about an hour, with four other, similar sized and smaller jacks providing plenty of hits. Pete Wilkins also joined me, putting a flatwing pike streamer through the margins and getting followed by the best we saw on the day, of perhaps seven or eight pounds, that watched with a beady eye but just wouldn’t open wide.

When the weather got really foul, Pete’s camper van also came in very handy to drink coffee, have a catch up and and discuss Exeter’s FA Cup tie with Liverpool. I think you could survive the apocalypse in this vehicle, which also provides an ideal den for Rocky, a giant, hairy and delightfully dopey Alsatian.

I’ve spent too many weeks fishing solo, if at all, of late though. Writing for a living can do that to you. So it was also pleasure to speak to the Somerset Pike Anglers’ Club lads at their January meeting and catch up with so many familiar faces. That said, I had spent Monday morning feeling a bit like a pike myself, after a hospital procedure involving a camera on a long tube and my throat. They were sporting enough to release me afterwards, but it wasn’t pleasant.

Among other topics were my use of single hooks for pike, whether it comes to fly, lure or bait fishing these days. The deadbait rig has been working a treat in fact, ideally with nice soft baits such as sardine. A lot of the drains and canals in both Devon and Somerset are muddy at present, so I do also tend to groundbait. Yes, it is a little extra bother, but I think it’s worthwhile. Rather than just getting a quick run, you can almost build the swim. This is especially worthwhile where you find spots with a lot of small fish topping, and you fancy there might be several pike. I use nothing fancy- just brown crumb and chopped fish. Works for me anyway; this was the best of three fish, at just over sixteen pounds.



Of course, pike aren't the only fish to target at this time of the year. Trout fishing continues right through the roughest weeks of winter. For any of you who enjoy fly fishing, my recent Turrall blogs are worth a look: www.turrall.com/blog/
Whatever you fish for in 2016, I wish you crooked lines and happy hunting.

Casting into the Wind

It’s a curious phenomenon that brutal storms and weather patterns are given names these days. We’ve had Desmond, Eva and there might even be a Nigel on the way. But I’ve had some other, less pleasant words lately for the type of high winds that tangle lines and send the lids of your bait tubs sailing off like kites. None of my recent trips have been easy. I enjoyed (or endured?) a mad, wild and windy Christmas match with Tiverton Angling Club. Amazingly, there was a fifty strong turn out on a day of 40mph gusts and rain.

So how did I do? The far bank line was written off for most of the match, as fishing any great distance with the pole felt lethal. So I started by fishing bread punch down the middle, a method that works so well on our fairly clear Westcountry canals. But I also fed a couple of chopped worm lines as backup.

Keeping the bait still was a huge problem. Small roach still bit avidly at the start, but it was a battle to tempt the fussier, better fish. Perhaps my keenest memory is of looking across at the bloke in the next peg, the wind howling and both of us just shaking our heads and laughing at each other, as if to say “yes, this is ridiculous and we must be a bunch of twats.” The onslaught of wind got even stronger, if anything. At one point I swung in a one ounce roach that suddenly accelerated towards my head at about 50mph.

But there was also just a minute of chilling drama. I’d switched to a heavier rig and a larger piece of bread when the float dipped, the elastic plunged and I could feel a good bream nodding away on the bottom of the canal. If anything, perhaps I was too eager to try and net it early. Whatever the truth, it was just coming up to the net when something went ping, the rig flew up in the air and I was left with a tangle and that sinking feeling.



That was about the only chance of glory I really got, although the chopped worm lines produced some late bites and a nice hybrid. Enough to take me over the pound mark for a hard fought 520g. Never mind, it was a great event and excellent to see all the local angling characters out in force. Only five anglers managed above 5lbs, with Ali Robinson the winner with 3.560 kg a very good net, given the wretched conditions.

But I had happier returns at one or two of my perch spots elsewhere. After fishing a match, it’s great to be able to choose your spot and fish exactly how you please. You’d wait too long between bites, for example, fishing something like a whole prawn. But I’ve been trying these over chopped worm, both in obvious perchy bits of cover, but also straight down the middle of typical canals and drains. The best of these two went 2-11.



It was also perch I was hoping for with a visit from my excellent friend David West-Beale, who has been developing a real habit of catching big perch on the fly. His tactics are fascinating, with rods as light as a three weight used to tame fish to over three pounds from his own local canal (as you can read on his splendid recent blog post "Fly Fishing, Perch and Eternal Youth")

I’m sure he found our waters clearer for one thing. But we had some very bright conditions at first, as we had a quick go at the river. I’ve been really enjoying drop shotting recently, with a real toy rod, a 7ft wand that casts 2-12g. Not with soft baits though, but flies. You can use all sorts of small streamers and trout lures, but I’ve developed my own alongside Turrall Flies using drop shot hooks and a blend of traditional and new materials.

It was mucky work, among all the winter wreckage, but I like a crisp little set up to test little slacks and holes, many of them right by the bank. Bites were hard earned, but after a missed pull, I managed to wangle a nice hand-sized perch from the reeds.

With clarity not ideal on running water though, I fancied we’d do better on a more sheltered stretch of canal. A bright sun really seemed to put the fish off however. We tried gamely for the perch, but they just wouldn’t budge. David searched meticulously with his light streamer set up, with some fascinating tactics (I’m going to feature him very soon in the fly fishing press). But on this occasion, even the little jack pike we spotted were tentative.

As the afternoon wore on, we eventually had to have a rethink and both tackled up for pike. We tried various fly patterns, but in the end success was more about the light. As soon as the afternoon grew a bit darker and dirtier, the pike appeared. And as the wind dropped a little, we could watch them attackers materialise.

We tangled with the jacks for a while, but really fancied there had to be a bigger one somewhere. It’s all relative I guess, and on many of the small drains and canals I fish a 6-pounder is a good one and a double is a specimen. But I’m totally addicted to sight fishing these little places.

My favourite pike fly at the moment is a dirty big pink thing with lots of flash. Not exactly natural, but it really draws fish. I’m not sure what Dave thought of the fly he described as the Gay Assassin. But the pike loved it, or perhaps hated it enough to want to shred it to bits?

The best of the day came from the central channel and there was no half-arsed follow, no warning, but just a big angry lunge. There was a tension and a thump, thump, thump as if to say “you and that pink thing can f*** off.”It proved to be a very decent small water pike, in the 8-10lb bracket.



I had to walk her down the bank a little, because being me, I’d snuck into quite an overgrown spot. If there’s one tip I can offer anyone who wants to catch more pike from small waters, it’s to get stuck in and fish the hairy bits. The majority anglers will just stop at the open bits, the cutaways and worn swims. It’s also a case of judgment because you have to be able to land the fish cleanly. A mate and a long-handled net often come in handy.

We had a few others too, including a few that wouldn't look out of place held by The General. But it was all good fun and in spite of the tough perch fishing, there were some real lessons and surprises. Now that the book is done and dusted I'm really looking forward to writing more features and yes, a little more method to follow the madness.

I'll be penning a special feature on fly fishing for perch very shortly for Fly Fishing & Fly Tying Magazine, while the new issue has my piece on fishing for winter brown trout in Devon. There's also a short film on the subject on YouTube: Winter Fly Fishing at Bratton Water.

Otherwise, Crooked Lines has been well received so far and is shifting well! You can read Jeff Hatt's verdict HERE for another angle on the book too. Like me, he has been an avid blogger in angling for a long time and shares many of my own typical joys and woes. If my own blog has been well received for a while(typically 4,000 reads per month currently), Jeff's has topped the 10-12,000 figure at times! With many magazines struggling to get these figures, it does make you wonder and I think he should definitely make an Idler's Quest book... I've already been twisting his arm anyway. Of course, books also put bread on the table and give writers the backup they need to continue, whereas blogs like this one are enjoyable but ultimately hard to sustain at no cost.

A huge thanks to all of you who have already ordered the new book so far. Keep an eye on www.dgfishing.co.uk for some exclusive sample pieces and also the chance to pick up both the new book plus Tangles with Pike for just £20. We're down to the last 300-400 copies or so of the pike book, so a second print run looks likely. Snap up a first edition while you can, because the value is only going to go up!

Piking with Pals

With life fairly fiercely busy at present, chances to fish have been limited to say the least. Which is why it was such a pleasure today to meet up with angling friends old and new, from both Devon and Somerset, for a friendly match followed by a pint and book signing at the Double Locks Inn.


I've been really buoyed by the turnouts to this years winter fishing competitions and this event, well organised by Somerset PAC RO Alan Buckingham, was no exception. Sixteen fishing from early morning, plus a few extra visitors and latecomers through the day, represents a very sociable gathering considering the cold and iffy conditions.

For the early hours it was very much a case of enjoying the company and a beautifully misty morning rather than any hectic action. Save for a couple of fish taken on dead baits at Lime Kilns, the handful of intrepid lure anglers plus me with a fly rod really struggled for any interest.
With the banter flowing however, not to mention a bottle of whiskey awaiting the angler with the biggest pike, levels of enthusiasm remained high. Who would prevail? I must say I rather fancied the bait fishermen for the big one, although I hoped one of our lure anglers would prove this wrong as we took a long walk right down to Turf Locks. I had only one nip and a cautious follow in the entire first three hours. But to be honest I was just enjoying being out on the bank and fishing rather than writing about it or daydreaming of pike. And while everyone was keen to win, there was a nicely laid back sense of fun to the contest, which was fished in the best possible spirit.


Exeter Canal can be a tough water at the best of times, but eventually our perseverance did bring some action. Funnily enough, my first hook up wasn't in one of those nice open swims where you might be able to unleash a long cast, but in a pokey little gap in the reeds where I could only pitch a short throw with a large perch themed pike fly. With no joy ripping my patterns gingerly through the margins, I had been counting the fly well down in the main channel before tweaking it to life. Even so, it must have been cast number one hundred and something when I finally got a decent knock on the line and a well conditioned jack. Take that Exeter Canal, you fickle slag!


Slowly but surely, the odd further bit of activity arrived. I decided to spend the last couple of hours sitting with the bait rods and managed another jack to a small roach donated by a pal. However, my stamp of fish was never in danger of beating Alan Buckingham to the bottle of malt, which was well earned not just for a splendid double figure fish but for his extra mile as the event organiser.

Last but not least there was also time to celebrate the arrival of new book "Tangles with Pike" with a drink and dish out some signed copies. I fished the whole event with a sense of pure relief and relaxation in fact, after the long slog of getting it finished and on sale. Slightly ironic, but this business of being a fishing writer can really eat into your fishing time! Suffice to say it was lovely to celebrate with a pint and get back on the canal for the day.


I would also like to give a big personal thank you to everyone who has bought a copy of "Tangles with Pike" so far. I'm not going to lie; every book is a risk and when you've put not just your heart but your investment into a project, it doesn't half put your mind at ease to see those first copies winging their way to readers all around the country (and if you've yet to grab yours, the best place is www.dgfishing.co.uk where a signed first edition hardback will set you back a very reasonable £15). I hope it provides some enjoyable reading for you and that all readers and fellow anglers have a great Christmas.

Jack-a-nory

After a fairly lengthy bit of toil, I can finally breathe out again and give news that my next book project is imminent. A collection of past favourites and current work, “Tangles with Pike” represents a decade of writing. Well, strictly speaking that would be more like every year since the age of about thirteen being hypnotised, thrilled, baffled and sometimes just a little obsessed by Pike. We're aiming for a late November release, with both a full colour hardback and a special e-book. And while you wouldn't always judge a book by the cover, I'm thrilled to have a David Miller special gracing the front.

Pike are still my favourite fish on the planet. I think this is for several reasons. One is the fact that even twenty-two years since my first, they still have that ability to jam my heart into my mouth and feed me that irresistible cocktail of excitement and adrenaline.

Nowadays, I tend to think pike are one of the easier species to catch. At least, if they're hungry they will tolerate line you'd never dream of using for say tench or perch fishing. But I didn't always think like this. In the very beginning, my dad would occasionally bring a bung float and sprats to the bank and I can remember thinking "this is never going to work!" Compared to my roach pole, it looked like shark tackle.

My first success was lure fishing in fact. Which is spooky, because an exact replica of the first pike plug I ever cast (below) was recently given to me by Garrett Fallon (the book designer and editor of Fallon's Angler). It was fairly shocking, to be frank. Yes, it wiggled frantically enough to be grabbed by my first ever pike, but then in mid battle it came apart in the middle. And disaster was only averted when… (I'm going to be a sod here and just say look out for the book!).

Actually, this makes me think just how much better tackle is today. Those things I regarded as the height of sophistication in about 1990 (springy line, hooks with huge barbs, crappy fibreglass rods) were actually pretty dodgy.


Anyhow, the tackle might have got way better, but I'm still after pike with varying degrees of success so many years later. Having dreamt of opening the 2014 pike season for a while but tied up with the book, it felt like a full circle effect to take my dad (above), the very person who first started me pike fishing. These days neither of us is that partial to a bung float and a bag of sprats. We catch way more these days with a fly rod in fact than we ever did in those early days.


The Grand Western Canal looked beautiful, if a bit weedy still. Nor were the pike massively hungry as we walked for perhaps two or three miles, watching and searching. I'm pleased to report that even on a Sunday, we also didn't spot any of our illegitimate friends with plastic bags in place of landing nets. Funny, but in the midst of all the current paranoia around poaching and the business of "naming waters" it seems to me that the sport could actually do with more not fewer legitimate pike anglers on the bank. That, and having people willing to talk to those in the wrong and report things rather than just whinge.
It's very easy when you're having a slow day to make excuses on the level of "this place has been poached!". But the answer usually lies with the angler or the conditions. On this occasion, it was just way too bright for the first two hours. We barely even saw a pike, other than a tiny thing that launched itself at my fly- and missed.
Pike fishing is so often a case of either drama or disappointment, with not much in the middle. And so it was on this occasion; just as evening arrived, all the fish appeared, as if some conjurer had magically restored life to a dead canal. I caught two little pound-or-so devils on my eight weight, before a well-aimed shot under a bush let to a slightly better class of carnage with a lively fish of about four pounds which I watched trailing the fly before rushing in for the kill:

All good fun, even with modest sized fish and after so many years of piking. In fact the one thing I perhaps feel less need to do these days is to slog for hundreds of miles in the hope of something huge. I will definitely be dreaming of a monster from one of the larger lakes or rivers this winter, but actually just being there is often enough. Best of all, I just love the game of hide-and-seek that the small, clear waters can offer. These have fuelled my writing as much as the more famous places and big pike I was lucky enough to catch. But I hope that as well as a few monsters, "Tangles with Pike" will do justice to an extremely varied catch of absorbing and entertaining stories, rather than the standard "here are a load of big pike and here's how I caught them" affair. The aim is definitely to capture the atmosphere, besides the figures. And I want to entertain people, not just make them think "you lucky XXXXXXX".

Flies in the Thaw

Water levels and temperatures continue to yo-yo, but does the fishing ever get totally desperate? There's usually something to try for, even if it's just to kill an afternoon. I was glad that Norbert Darby dragged me out for a Sunday trip. Signs were mixed. Warming temperatures, but also loads of pike anglers out on the canal, none reporting anything very dramatic.
The water had cleared slightly, but still didn't look that inviting, so I opted for a big perch coloured fly (above), with plenty of presence. To be quite honest, it was nice just to stretch the legs and make a few casts. About half an hour later, as I was sneaking the thing in slow and deep, there was a lovely tap-tap-THUMP! on the end of the line. If there's one thing I love about fly fishing, it's that moment of connection transmitted right through the fingers. After a minute or so playing tug of war on my eight weight, this was either a very spirited jack, or something hefty. The fish that rolled was thick round the middle, and suddenly things felt more urgent. Norbert took some snaps while every dog walker and their beast in the vicinity decided to come an have an ogle- an added presence I rarely enjoy with a lively fish on the unhooking mat! This one went 15lb 4oz, really chunky and beautifully marked too.
Having being trounced by Norbert on our two previous trips, this was also a welcome comeback. "You won't catch anything on the fly" was his earlier piece of gamesmanship. Not that either of us gets pointlessly competitive or anything. It was also reward for recent homework at the vise. Having never know a season quite like it for floods and crappy conditions, my recent flies have been much bigger and bolder than the usual fare. Thank goodness for pike though. Without them, there would be quite a big gap in the fly fishing year. It won't be too long, of course, before other species start to feature with the fly tackle. Clearer rivers would be a start- but judging by the massive growing interest in flyfishing for coarse fish, it could be quite a year. Along with new partner in crime Charlie Hancock, we've launched both a Facebook Group ("Flyfishing for Coarse Fish") and also a Twitter account (@FlyForCoarse). So far the interest has been amazing, with well over 200 followers and members onboard in just one week! There'll be a big competition on the way, and lots of fun stuff to get involved with- watch this space. Better start tying for the spring now! (These are some roach and rudd flies I'm just finishing for a group member): Otherwise, I've also enjoyed some more pole fishing. I hadn't been to Shillingford for ages, but this can be a banker water for cold weather. Provided, that is, you bin the text book swims. All those tempting looking features look great for perch- but when they have two feet of icy water around them, these bits can be pretty dead. The pole lets you test the depth with total accuracy however. Find an area a little further out just a little deeper (sometimes only 2-3 inches more than the surrounding depths) and you're often in business. Despite the remnants of recent snow, a patient approach with regular helpings of caster and chopped worm did the business for a tidy net, with quality roach and several perch to just under two pounds.

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.

A Lucky 13th

Does it ever get too cold to catch pike? In the Westcountry at least, I'm beginning to suspect the answer is a big fat no. It began as a day of bleak weather and fairly slim expectations for a crack at the Somerset Levels with Seb Nowosiad- but to our delight, the pessimism was misplaced. After a painfully slow start fishing between ice patches on the Bridgwater-Taunton Canal, we took a bit of a mystery tour to locate some more likely and less ice-covered water in the heart of the Levels.
A sound move as it turned out- sick of watching a motionless float, I switched to the fly rod and quickly received a pulverising bite. And it was no flash in the pan either. In spite of the freezing fog and -3C temperature, the fish seemed to be feeding well. Indeed, the next jack even coughed up a little roach as evidence! The pike responded best to bright patterns however-in particular those with weighted heads which I could present just off the bottom.

But what of the deadbaiting? Well, Seb got quality rather than quantity here, just one bite but a terrific, beautifully conditioned pike of 16lbs 4oz for sticking at it. A suspended smelt did the trick gently drifted under a float, a very underrated method on so much of the Levels.

I'm starting to think the text book should be thrown away entirely for winter piking. The fish took fly patterns and lures with gusto on our sub zero adventure today, and far from being sleepy in the cold they all fought excellently well on light tackle. Seb eventually switched to lures to catch another three jacks and by the end of play we had a dozen pike between us. By around three we'd had our fill- it had got to the balmy heaights of 0.5C and still so foggy it looked more like seven in the morning. Worth every chilly minute though.