From Country Estates to Council Estates

I am an angler of itchy feet. I like fishing a real range of waters. That might seem like stating the bleeding obvious, but it does affect the way you fish. Hopping waters is exciting, but if you make lots of different detours you really have to think on your feet. Sometimes just getting the day ticket is a mission. Like at Shobrooke Lake, Devon- where you hand over your cash at surely one of the most unlikely combined businesses in the land (Ladd's Computers and Guns) for the not incredibly cheap rate of £12.50. "Yeah, I want a day ticket please. Oh, and while I'm here I'll take a Dell lap top and that great big shotgun. Yeah, that one. I'm thinking of an internet fuelled killing spree. Maybe I can chuck the bodies in the lake while I have a crack at some roach on the waggler." And if that seemed a bit unlikely, you'd might also wonder what I was doing lobbing out a spomb packed with hempseed and 10mm boilies. No, I haven't sold my soul to Satan or (xxxx insert Godless tackle company as applicable), I'm just finding these little devices really bloody useful and, dare I say it, good fun to use. You don't need some ridiculous spod rod and the result is a lovely, accurate pocket of bait that doesn't sound like an air strike on Kabul. I intended to fish the long pole with casters for the silver fish, but also put out a bonus rod for bigger roach or carp. Joining me was Russ Hilton, who I'd been trying for a while to drag away from the cricket pitch and back to fishing. A good move, because the lake was beautiful and although all the hardcore carpers had bagged the near bank swims, we found some space at the quieter end with a nice, mild breeze pushing towards us. We both enjoyed plenty of bites, with the odd better roach or hybrid thrown in, the odd one over the pound mark: The really exciting part was when the bonus rod surged into life. Lobbing the pole behind me, I savoured a good scrap from a carp. It happened later on too, with regular little top ups of bait grabbing the interest of a better one. The two carp couldn't have been more different. The first was a bit of a mutant: bug eyed and no pelvic fins of any description. The next was absolutely gorgeous though, beautifully dark gold and well proportioned. It took careful playing on relatively light gear: After such an enjoyable day I felt a real appetite for another trip on a decent sized and leafy lake. Trenchford Reservoir seemed a fair bet for a long walk with some lures. Having no pubs next to it, the place also seemed a good place to take Norbert Darby without fear of distractions such as barmaids and cider. The part I'd forgotten is that the place is harder than the Klitschko brothers. We didn't have so much as a whiff of a pike and even with waders, you just couldn't get to around three quarters of the lake. And the bits you could get to were as dead and depressing as Jimmy Saville. Time for a move then- and the predictable irony was that the most concrete part of the urban Exe showed far more signs of life. The walk was just as long, and just as biteless to begin with, although the graffiti art on show was right up our street. Some great B-Movie monsters and quirky humour, and Norbert took a shine to a big lady: The sun was up, we were laughing and pike were there after all, just not quite where I'd expected them. All we needed was a pint of cider, some jokes in such poor taste I can't repeat them, and a bit of a tactical reshuffle. Best of all, we silenced the town's own "I know everything better than you" character in a moment of pure, poetic justice. He'd been busy telling us that he was the mutt's nuts and declared that all the fish were in deep water; I couldn't help but smile sweetly as he caught a tree the same minute Norbert latched into a nice pike in a painfully shallow swim. It's times like this I wonder if perhaps there is such a thing as divine intervention. Karma is a bitch, ain't it?

September spawned a monster...

With time short, and conditions as unpredictable as ever, September has closed with a trail of budget accommodation, blustery waters and bloody fingers in search of pike and other species. With fuel so pricey, sometimes the only way to make ends meet is to kill a few birds with one stone and take a road trip. A successful one, I'm pleased to add- as you can see from the state of my fingers. Last week, it all began in slightly calmer style as I was delighted to guide fly convert Owen Haynes on what looked like the last good day of summer. We had a blast with lots of visual fish present. Despite only relatively recently taking up fly fishing, Owen put spiders to good use in some of my favourite spots, taking a good tally of fish- and was unlucky to miss out by a hair's breadth on what looked to be a real monster rudd. It matters less when you catch a hatful of pretty, nicely conditioned roach: I always like to send folks away with some bonus flies too, and keen to catch a pike next, Owen went away with some new pike patterns for a spot of "field testing"! Shortly afterwards, I was hurtling across the country to catch the PAC Convention, along with some strategic stops on the journey. If you travel light, you can quickly set up anywhere- and I couldn't resist a shot in Somerset on the way up. A little disheartened to see the carnage and bare spaces created by the weed cutter in operation, I was relieved to find a shoal of chub on the canal. They just wouldn't rise for a dry fly, but a Spider Sedge flicked to the edge of the shoal was snapped up by this nice fish: After a couple of jack pike on the Severn en route, I rocked up in the Midlands to continue my shoe-string fishing tour on the reservoirs. With a good handful of waters to choose from, you're spoilt for choice, but a day with Zoota Lures maker Alex Prouse (see www.zoota.co.uk) was a must. I had admired his beautiful jerkbaits at a couple of shows in the past and couldn't wait to see them in action. I've enjoyed jerkbait fishing before- but usually with the solid variety you work with the rod tip to swerve left to right. There's something extra special about a model someone has tested and finished by hand however and the pike seemed to agree. Drifting to cover plenty of water, we started to get follows and hits. Alex was first into a fish, a nice double: The day was exciting enough when I spotted a really long fish follow. Alex recommended a switch to a smaller "mini Wagtail"- and fatefully, ten minutes later, the line stopped and I got that nervous excitement of a fish that held deep and ponderous. At the first sight of it my jaw fell slack. Bloody hell, I was a gibbering mess! Some big water fish are thicker than your leg, others are really long: this one was both. I would be lying if I said the fight was a breeze- it was torturously edgy, as the fish was only hooked lightly by one treble. I was having horror visions of another pike in this bracket I hooked last season on Chew, which shook its head and was gone. Not this time! At 27lb 10oz, I was supremely grateful to Alex and his brilliant lures. I don't usually dare dream of a pike anywhere near size until much later in the season- and to catch it on a lure was doubly special. Just to prove the lures were no one hit wonders, he proceeded to catch some lovely pike of his own among a string of spine tingling follows and big hits. Not only are these lures deadly- they're also a lot tougher than those I've used in the past. And if they get really hammered, a lighter can always be used to make running repairs! The next day was a complete change of scene as I fished elsewhere with predator fly expert Nigel Savage. We had further fun with some very scrappy pike, but I was especially intrigued by his tactics for zander. This couldn't be more different to casting for pike, with jig style flies and depths often 30ft or greater to contend with: I would liken it to jigging- but by no means in a dismissive way. Flies are trailed and carefully worked behind the boat, rather than repeatedly cast, which would be fairly ludicrous with the vast depths involved. Doing everything by touch is a lovely way to fish and Nigel took several zander from the depths. It was also a great week for meeting other pike anglers at the PAC Convention, where I had the pleasure of giving a talk to a group of keen youngsters. With areas like rigs and catch and release well covered by seasoned heads, my remit was the rich area of pike legends and tall tales from the archives. From the great Mannheim pike myth, to tales of geese, dogs and small boys being eaten, it was all good, far-fetched fun. In fact, the pike season couldn't have got off to a more rewarding start. I'd also encourage Westcountry rods to check out the Devon R13 PAC blog (see my links page at www.dgfishing.co.uk) for upcoming events. Nathan Edgell is first up in late October at Mill on Exe- with an exclusive water fish in and other good things to come.

Cheap Seats vs Exclusive Beats

I've never been one for forking out mega bucks for my fishing. It's not any lack of love for stunning private waters, but more lack of funds. You do get the odd perk out of writing about places, but the phrase "there's no such thing as a free lunch" also applies. Just like I'd never want my output to read like a sales pitch for a sponsor, nor should it read like a fishery brochure. And besides, I quite like it when my viewpoint comes from the cheap seats. Where there's muck there's interest. Where there is dirt there is truth. This is why Rimbaud and Baudelaire frequented gutter bars and cemeteries rather than five star restaurants. That, and the fact that they were perpetually wrecked on absinthe. This week has been a tale of two very different river settings. Firstly, you have the free stretch of the Culm. I've never investigated this place properly before, hence it was a bit of an awakening. Sadly as well as butterflies, birds, chub, dace and trout it also has litter and dodgy types; cows and dogs disturbing the water in at regular intervals. Not surprisingly the best fishing came from taking a walk (or should I say a wade) away from the better trodden areas. Like that craggy bit by the M5. You know the one, the place you must have scanned 1000 times from your car and thought "I wonder what's down there?" Well, I gave it a crack: Was the fishing electric? In a word, no. But varied and challenging, yes. I fished a Klinkhamer and hares ear combo to find dace and a couple of sporty trout, as well as losing what I suspect was a half decent chub. The dingy bits were so overgrown I stuggled, but on some of the shallow, sunny runs I got some lovely rises to the dry fly. Beautiful too, are these Culm trout. Sunny gold and vivid. This bit of the Culm might not be Premier League fly fishing then, but hey- it's free. My next outing couldn't have been more different. An invite to spend the day on a quiet -and usually very private- stretch of the Exe through the kindness of a family friend wasn't to be sniffed at. It was a place so beautiful you had to keep reminding yourself that you weren't trespassing. My brother was already frothing at the mouth with the prospect of salmon, but I wanted to make sure I put something in the net first before giving them a cast. Grayling are a particular favourite. They definitely thrive on neglect- and of all the fish I believe they are the most fragile and easily killed by careless anglers. The nice thing about grayling on salmon waters is that you know virtually nobody is fishing for them. I found plenty of lovely, steady paced runs with 2-3 feet of water and rising fish. Most wanted the dry fly: It soon went from good to outstanding, as the rises increased and Ben hooked a salmon further up. The next grayling I hooked was in a different class to the rest, vast in length by comparison. They are one of those fish that really tantalise as they come towards you; I love that moment the dorsal fin is hoisted and for a brief moment the fish is perfectly frozen before you. My brother had the only scales sadly, but it was 17", quite possibly a two pounder. Who cares, figures are for maths teachers and it was exquisite: I've written before about the huge influence confidence, or a lack of it, can have on fishing success- and on this occasion you felt anything was possible. Ben had already caught a salmon too, so there was only one way to try and finish the day. I aimed an orange Pot-Bellied Pig into various tempting, boiling spots along a far bank channel. After about cast fifty, I was still hoping and almost tempting fate asked Ben "so do I strike when I feel something?" The answer to that is generally "NO!" -a better answer would be to grit your teeth, give line and try not to die of shock. The thing I was attached to flew downstream at a scary pace before throwing itself into the air. Pure adrenaline. In fact, the next time someone even suggests fishing is boring I'm going to slap them. "It's going to be a decent one," and "it's well hooked I reckon," were comments that only added to the tension. The fight was manic, but under my brother's expert guiding hand I eventually managed to bring it to the net. A first ever salmon for me, on the fly and one of the most nerve shattering battles I've ever had on a fishing rod I'd say. The fish, a male, made a steady recovery before making his way homewards. As for me, I've only just stopped quaking.

The Good, the Bad and the Angry

How much gear and expense do you need to be successful at fishing? The truth is most of us own too much. Not only that, too much of it gets dragged along with us on the bank. Away trips can be a particular headache. Take too much and you carry it all or leave it there to nick in your car; take too little and you're bound to have that "why didn't I bring a...." moment. I always aim to be slightly ruthless with myself on this front, which is why for most of this week's trip to the Dorset Stour I carried just a fly rod and a few essentials. Just as well flies don't weigh much. I find Clouser style pike flies especially useful for river fishing, which have the sink rate to explore deeper swims. The morning felt cool, but quickly became pretty baking hot. Not very surprisingly I got most hits early and late, with cool, well oxygenated spots like the edges of pools the best. As well as a nice bonus perch around the pound mark I managed a few pike, the best of them this lean low double, which took a black fly just as I'd started to flag in the heat. Next day, I had a cast with intrepid river angler Nathan Edgell. When it comes to travelling light, his approach is refreshingly simple. Just one rod, one bag, but lots of ground covered. It didn't take long for a fish to launch itself at his spoon. Angry? It was livid!: There's possibly only one thing better than exploring a lovely stretch of river, and that's spending it in the company of someone who knows all the juicy spots, the wildlife and the character of the place. Lot's of fun, if a bit bloody hot to be in waders. There'll be more on the way with Nathan involved, including an appearance as our first speaker of the year for the Devon PAC (Oct 30th, 7:30pm Mill on Exe- bung it in the diary!). Otherwise I've seen some of the best and worst that fishing has to offer. The bad revolves around the continued presence of illegal fishing- and a crazy little twist last time out. I had found two Eastern Europeans (I know, it sounds predictable already), with dead fish in a shoddy keepnet on the Grand Western Canal. When I challenged them and picked up the phone, they promptly scarpered, leaving all their gear! Credit also to Ian Nadin, who was there in three minutes flat to give them a further scare and get their car reg as they left at speed. The big plus point is that these idiots now have nothing to sit on, let alone fish with. My garage isn't the tidiest at the best of times, but now has a whole heap of dodgy extra gear- crude isn't the word! On a much lighter note however, I also took some family friends fishing for the first time. It's always great to see youngsters catch their first fish- and Laurie and Bryony Pym had a netful of crucians, roach and tench out at Little Yeo Fishery. What was really nice was to see not just how much fun they found it, but how quickly they got stuck into the basics, from hooking the bait to handling fish with wet hands.

Catching On & Catching Up

At last, for a few days at least, summer has been more than just a word. Clear, settled conditions have led to some exciting fly fishing. When it gets truly balmy, I'm always surprised by the sheer number of species that will hug the uppermost layers of the water. The Grand Western Canal has been littered with roach and rudd (above), but even fish like bream and pike are seen sunbathing. The rudd are still my favourite for summer strolls, and while I'm still lacking the giant of the canal this year it's impossible to feel disappointed when plenty of rudd in the pound to pound and a half mark accept a fly so willingly. Once again, spider patterns have been the best of all, as was the case with this 1lb 5oz fish: Another great pleasure is in leading others towards new discoveries, whether through the pages of "Flyfishing for Coarse Fish" or with guiding days. My last guest, David Goodlad from Kent, had a terrific two day fly safari. Despite entering completely new territory, he had five species in total. Spotting takes was tricky at first and so I advised a switch to small dry flies- a good move as it turned out, with this chunky roach rising almost trout like: Day two was a fresh twist too, hitting the so called "fast stretch" of the River Tone. This is ideal territory for fly fishing, with a great head of chub and plenty of back casting room. A Pink Shrimp or Hare's Ear suspended just under a decent sized klinkhamer was aimed into various likely looking runs and creases, resulting in some full-blooded takes and a serious bend in Dave's five weight. This was exciting stuff- especially when flies could be aimed just where we'd spotted a chub make a meaty rise for a real insect moments earlier. A shame really that the summer is rapidly running out, just as things look more encouraging. Fearing the weather wouldn't hold I've spent the last days hurtling across the land from the Wye to the Stour to make the most of it. The Stour was still running a bit high, but with decent clarity and rising fish I enjoyed plenty of bites. It can be busy on Throop- but not if you wade into the sort of shallow, weedy, pacy swims that the bait anglers avoid. Dace were the main target on this occasion, a species so few anglers make any fuss about. With really light tackle I find them a refreshing challenge. The takes are "blink and you'll miss it" at the surface, and they do give a nice twisting fight. I had one or two better dace along with the midgets, but fancy that a much bigger one might be possible to those who conquer deeper water and tougher swims. I had a good crack at the Tidal Stour to attempt this, finding more than I bargained for. Several times I saw a little flounder in the margins- and then became totally distracted by a shoal of gudgeon, who themselves seemed driven to distraction by a Czech Nymph. Each time they'd follow the fly as it sank; a twitch would generally see them scatter, while a gentle lift of just an inch or two and one of the whiskery buggers would gobble the thing up! I took two in this fashion, in between admiring a stalking heron on the far bank, and a half pound perch which nearly grounded itself chasing bleak in the stony shallows. Ironically, I caught more chub fishing for these dace than I did on my last Stour day targeting them deliberately- and I can't emphasise enough just how perfect fly fishing is as a method for the species. You can cast exceptionally gently for those fish hugging shallow water, mimicking exactly the food they expect to find whether that means a freshwater shrimp or a drowning insect. I had several net-sized fish on both dry flies and nymphs: Last but not least I must mention the Wye. Perhaps it serves me right for leaving so long a gap between blogs that one entry becomes a bloody essay! The river near Hereford was rising sadly- and by the time I'd had a couple of chub on the fly, any further plans at dace or barbel were getting quite literally muddied. Feeder fishing is not my favourite tactic, but a heavy feeder and a smelly bait definitely works for barbel: It was also good to catch up with Bob James on the bank. He still aims to clear his name surrounding the mud slinging earlier this season. It seems that the maxim "innocent until proven guilty" doesn't apply to todays internet forums. Whatever the outcome, I can only speak positively about an angler prepared to offer friendship and support to an emerging writer for little personal gain. As for his philosophy on river fishing, I can't think of anyone whose ideas are more consistently enlightening or thought-provoking. It's always a nice problem for a writer when you look through your notes and think "bloody hell, how do I fit all of the interesting bits into a few hundred words?!"

Crucians, Cake & Coaching

After a brief but unsuccessful try for crucians on the fly at Tiverton AA's Little Yeo Fishery on the journey home last week, I decided to return with more conventional tackle. I'd been hoping to spend a morning with my Dad for a while, since we hadn't fished together in ages. Rather than attempt something way too serious for a Sunday morning, we decided to go tiddler bashing and pretend it was 1991 all over again, a time we'd get up early to fish cute little ponds for just about anything that was willing to pull a float under. It's strange, but in the midst of an era when many of us are keen to catch PB's and get deadly serious, I often find the opposite hankering- a desire to feel like a kid again and return to a world where happiness was dropping a bait by some lillies and feeling a crucian carp juddering on the line. I like fishing with my old man. He still favours a wicker creel over products with names like "specialist accessory system". He knows more about the ingredients of a decent sandwich than modern baits. He might not have taught me how to become a world champion angler, but he definitely taught me to enjoy fishing- a lesson that is the same whether you're three or thirty three. I'm not sure I know anyone else who gets so much fun out of a few hours on the bank- and that is never truer than when the fish are cute and the bites plentiful. It didn't seem to matter what we threw at them and we even snared a few using little pieces of ginger cake. One or two oddities also joined the party, like this golden tench: In the end we were supremely lucky with the weather- thunder on the horizon, downpour in Tiverton, but we seemed to be in a little oasis of sunshine. My new pole got a great work out, even if I only needed to use the top 4 all morning, for scores of pretty crucians, along with the odd roach, skimmer and tench. The best bait for hitting bites seemed to be worm section though- perhaps the crucians take this just a little more emphatically? They were like peas in a pod too, not big but very scrappy on light gear. Favourite quote of the day: "They must all be related- it's like Tiverton down there!" A very welcome day then, because even fishing can become like work rather than play if you're not careful. Other than my first books, the other vital bit of development for me this year is the process of taking my coaching badges. Having guided for a while now, I really wanted to make it official and get the certificate, which is pretty much vital if you want to take kids as well as adults fishing. Even if you've worked for years with youngsters, you simply have to get the right qualification- I believe it will be CRB check number seven if not eight in my professional career!!! On the concluding day of the course, everyone had to perform a live session, which was good fun. One of my giant soft pike came to good use with an exercise on landing and fish care- but perhaps the funniest and most original demo belonged to John Clare, who did a night fishing lesson by blindfolding his student, a hapless Simon Gurney!: And on a final note, those of you with Sky Sports might want to tune in on Friday evening. After a successful day's filming, I'll be in the studio with Keith Arthur to discuss some of the finer points of catching coarse fish on the fly- and hopefully also get a word in about the new DVD which is available on my own site as well as Amazon now. Really looking forward to this. Here's a skimmer, taken on a little bead head shrimp during a practise session on the Bridgwater to Taunton Canal: