Wye chub and newly hatched flies

When it comes to the fishing year, certain methods are perfect for certain seasons. You wouldn't go casting dry flies for rudd during December, or fish for pike in a heat wave. But there are also methods that seem to work whatever the conditions. Provided there is enough water clarity, streamer style flies will work for chub at any point in the season. Ok, so it might not be quite as "pure" as casting a dry fly and watching old rubber lips take a gulp; but the sudden shock of a fish battering a streamer is a singularly thrilling experience in its own right.

My guest for a guided trip on the Wye this week was Andrew Dean, all the way from the much warmer waters of South Africa. I had been crossing my fingers for mild, settled weather that didn't quite materialise, although the water was still fairly clear and we managed to locate some fish in inches of water in one of my favourite swims. Andrew managed a couple on big dry flies (and by big I mean BIG! a size 6 grasshopper worked well), also adding a tiny dace and a rather beautiful brown trout when we'd scaled down to a Klinkhamer and nymph combo. The main event was with the streamers however, wading into the vicinity of some craggy holes and Andrew steering both British and South African flies adeptly into the gaps (credit due for losing only one of my own special Woolly Buggers in the foliage!). As aggressive as these fish can be, a slightly slower, upstream and across presentation seemed to work best, giving the fly plenty of wiggle in the current. Time and again the line kept jolting tight, followed by some bludgeoning fights from the chub, including a hat trick over the 3lb mark. For a chilly September day that's great fishing:

One of the key parts to any fishing trip is having the right tools for the job. Where coarse fish are concerned, I get the feeling anglers have been rather short changed when it comes to flies. Not everyone ties their own and it is a major confidence boost to get your hands on tried and trusted patterns in the right sizes. Which leads me to some exciting news: I am currently working with Turrall to produce a special range of flies for coarse fish that will be for sale in the not too distant future! It was great to meet the team on a recent visit, tying up samples and sussing materials:

It is always a great source of satisfaction for me to provide fellow anglers with flies that work. I love developing my own patterns and get a real kick out of hearing about others' successes. Working with Turrall I hope to do this on a much bigger scale in future and it will be a great honour to have a range of flies under my name with this great Devon company, who have been turning out top quality flies for a good while longer than my thirty four years on this planet! I won't spoil the surprise just yet, but chub, dace, roach, rudd, perch and pike will all feature on a growing menu of tailor made flies for coarse fish. Watch this space for more details.

Dotty Weekend

Sea trout fishing has its cliches just like any other branch of the sport. You go at night, with big surface-waking flies right? Not necessarily. My brother has been enjoying some good day time sport around Devon's quieter corners. The Lynher in Cornwall is especially tempting; fairly close to the sea, with plenty of dark, shady holes for these creatures to shelter and it's also a very affordable ten quid a day on the Westcountry Angling Passport scheme.


It was to prove an interesting exchange of ideas. Whilst my previous few seasons have been focussed on coarse fish on the fly, Ben has developed a real obsession with salmon and sea trout. These little rivers are stirring places- and the sea trout can be tempted on small goldhead bugs in daylight hours. Basically it's like using stepped up trout gear and trying to get an aggressive response from sheltering fish. Like salmon they don't feed in freshwater but sometimes react to the flash and movement of a fly. We had to work for it though, with lots of tiny brownies plus a party of canoeists not exactly helping us creep up on these shy fish.

After many yards of careful wading we began to spy tantalising signs of life- the ripple of a phantom fin near the bank; a sudden beam of silver turn in the current. A 12" fish finally took my goldhead bug, giving a fine scrap on light tackle- light, metallic sides soon identified this one as a sea trout. Not a big one, but beautiful.
Sunday's trip was in the less wild setting of the town centre by Mill on Exe. Joining me was Chris Gooding, who spent many happy days as a boy catching fish of all kinds here- and has lost none of his enthusiasm. With balls of steel, he decided to take up some precarious trotting positions right on the edge of the weir! A flashback to mispent youth perhaps- where back in the less health and safety obsessed 80s he once ran across these slippery spots with a rod.

We tried the classic offering of silkweed for roach- which were sadly absent, although plenty of dace and even a small trout fell to maggots. Fellow city slicker Ian Nadin also managed a trout on a small jointed plug and a beautifully marked one too:

After a quick pint at the Mill we pushed on for a spot of wet wading, this time with a fly rod. Chris and I had a great fun hour or so casting at (and usually missing!) schools of flashing, fast biting dace. Proper Sunday afternoon fun and there was also a bonus in store. I'd spotted a reasonable sized chub earlier, prowling under branches near the bank and a a carefully presented goldhead nymph got an instant response from this scrappy city two pounder, whose big mouth truly dwarfed my little nymph: