An Afternoon Off...

South View fishery at Shillingford is one place I haven't been in ages, but with lots of coloured and cold water around it seemed a safe enough bet for some bites. I was really hoping for some solid perch, but the main aim was a simple pleasure session. I love nothing more for a fun session than the use of a long 17ft float rod and centre pin combo, using a pole style set up for sensitivity.
Feeding a steady stream of maggots and casters is usually a good way to get the small silver fish and perch going and signs looked good at the start; overcast skies, fry showing and several perch to over a pound early on.

What cracking fish perch are- whatever their size they always brighten up the day. Rather like the resident robins- which were nicking the maggots right out of my bait box. That was before the carp moved in and all else moved on. I knew the score quickly enough- perch and silvers don't send great plumes of silt up as they feed! I tried feeding other lines and trying other baits- to some extent this worked, with more perch and some beautiful rudd showing to chopped worm. Soon enough the carp bullied their way into these areas too. Only the odd perch got through these greedy buggers. I can't really complain as they fought well and made the day full of action- I finished up with a dozen carp to around eight pounds. Worm, caster, maggot... you name it, they scoffed it.

Indeed, some slate our day ticket venues, but they are incredibly consistent even in the ice or the rain. Unlike the canals- Tiverton has been iced for ages, sometimes with a double layer of the stuff. No good for fishing, but some crazy patterns on the surface have kept me amused with the camera, like natural art work, don't you reckon?:

Flies and Frost Bite

It's always a real pleasure to introduce another angler to new methods and experiences. Ian Nadin, having never even waved a fly rod, joined me for a trip to Blakewell to give it a try. After a quick casting lesson, he slowly got to grips with the tackle and was putting out a decent line. The first fish on any new method is often the hardest though, so I was delighted to see him bend into his first fly caught fish on a bitterly cold day... and numbers two and three followed quickly in succession to bright lures. One very happy Ian- converted I hope. Fantastic!

Otherwise all the familiar swims are looking freakish in the ice- and not fancying eskimo style fishing I've been back at the tying vise, mostly attempting various buzzers and bachs:

Of Ice & Men

How typical it is that when you get a few days off work, conditions just don't cooperate. Ice has been the main trouble- short of smacking a whole in it, it makes life very difficult. A visit to Tiverton Canal with Ian turned into a real battle- forget finding fish, we had enough bother finding water!
True to our never say die attitude we did give it a good try- shameless optimist that I am, I even tried casting a fly into gaps in the ice. Deadbait seemed logical in the end, but even this didn't earn a result.

(Above: "Duh? Why has the water gone hard? And why do the local kids try and feed us bricks?)

I always enjoy Ian's company though- we had a good laugh at the annual game of see what you can throw onto the ice, a favourite of local kids. Sticks, stones, bricks, planks, a dead rat... you name it, they'd chucked it on the ice. A bit like a crude science experiment I guess ("Wayne throw rock, rock make ice break"). Most curiously of all, someone had lobbed some money onto the ice. In fact, we were wondering if this is some kind of local pastime of sliding coins onto the ice to lure local peasants to their doom.
No fishing today however, mainly because I have a stinking hangover from the whole carnage of a very boozy New Years celebration. Still, a good excuse to laze around thise morning and indulge in another kind of vice- the one I use to tie flies with. Here's one called a "Lucky Bugger" (if you can't be good, be lucky I always say):

And then we have some bass patterns. Great, except that it'll be a small eternity before they see the beach:


A very happy new year to everyone! Hope 2010 is a good 'un for you.

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...