A Testing Week

Book news and a date for your diaries to come in this week's blog, but first I'll start with a couple of recent trips from rapidly cooling waters both close to home and further away.

The onset of winter brings either some of the best fishing of the year or a sense of foreboding, depending on who you ask. One of the winter optimists among my fishing pals is Will Barnard, who asked if I might like a cheeky day on the Test for coarse fish. What a silly question.

No prizes for guessing the species I was after from the above image. Grayling represent an occasional treat as far as I'm concerned. We're not exactly blessed with them in Devon and I couldn't wait to reacquaint myself. I usually fish with a fly rod and some heavy nymphs, but with the river pushing through fast and full I decided to spend the lion's share of the day trotting this time.


In no time at all I was getting bites but succeeding in losing a lot of these fish as they turned in the current. My running water float fishing skills were a little rusty if I'm honest, but one little piece of advice I took from Will was to add a swivel between mainline and hook length to counter that notorious twisting which grayling are famous for. It worked a little better, and while I couldn't quite get amongst the really big ones I had loads of bites and the odd roach, dace and accidental trout into the bargain, besides some pretty samples of my target species:


It was great to escape for the day, but rather frustratingly every man, monkey and their relatives seemed to want to call me to divert my attention from the beauty of the river. When you're waiting on a possibly life changing call you can't turn the damned thing off- although at one stage I wanted to chuck the mobile into the river.

Will was a better influence though, with some novel ideas and fairly unrepeatable jokes to keep my sanity intact. What is it with Mr Barnard I wonder? You could call the guy a true angler or an eccentric, as whenever I fish a session with him he seems to avoid the obvious. Last time out, he was looking for big eels. On this occasion though, he was fishing for dace by throwing a cute feeder set up into the little holes and corners most anglers walk past. And he was definitely onto something, because the silvery beasts he caught were some of the biggest dace I've ever seen. The best went 12 to 13oz and were quite breathtaking in their own little way:



As always, the worst part about fishing the Test is that you don't want to leave. With or without that fish you dreamt of, it grabs at your heart. You pretend it isn't getting dark; make ten last casts until you can barely see the float tip. Still, the journey home was cheered up by listening to my beloved Exeter City FC score three goals in a vital away win on the drive back West. Like one of the dace then, the dark end of the day had a very silver lining indeed.

Somehow I even managed to squeeze in the rare current luxury of a second trip in a week just three days later in the Tiverton AA Christmas Match. This is a quite superb event. A whopping 55 of us made it onto the Grand Western Canal with good spirits and high hopes. It was a beautiful morning, but similarly to last year, the draw bag just didn't do me any favours as I was pegged right by the cars on a fairly nondescript peg. Even so, it was just great to be fishing and enjoying the fresh with so many fellow anglers, including some faces I hadn't seen in too many months.



So how did I fare? The good news was that there were hundreds of fish in my peg; the not so good news was that most were tiny little roach of perhaps half an ounce. I caught steadily on the pole, fishing two punched bread lines and some chopped worm to cover, but struggled to hook any proper "net" fish. Even so, it was thoroughly enjoyable. I winkled out some perch from cover, and also lost a pike that might just have seen me climb the pecking order a little (they count in these matches). At the final whistle I was strangely satisfied in fact, because 3lbs 13oz wasn't a bad weight at all considering the peg. If only I'd drawn one peg further along, the other side of the bridge where Paul Elworthy had the turning bay to go at, I might have finished much higher. Not that you'd take anything away from Paul for skilfully putting together a winning double figure net of bream and skimmers. Next year perhaps!

Last but not least, I also bear news today. In spite of a slight delay at the printers, my new book "Tangles With Pike" is due any day this week. Apologies to anyone who has already ordered, but rest assured it'll be with you very soon. You could order it at Amazon (and a Kindle edition will follow too), but to be honest with you the cut they pinch from an author is scary. Besides, buy it at www.dgfishing.co.uk and I'll sign it for you personally.

To celebrate I'm also planning a little meet up a week on Sunday (the 14th). The Somerset Levels PAC branch (region 12) have a fish in that day, so it'll be a fun combined event. A day of fishing and good company (meet 7am at Lime Kilns), followed by some ales and a book signing party at the Double Locks for 5pm. Do come and join me if you get the chance, whether it's to have a cheeky cast or just to chew the fat on a Sunday afternoon. It's been way too long since I've seen many of you and it would be great to catch up over a cold jar.

Piking with Stars

Trying to make ends meet as a fishing writer is not the most glamorous occupation for ninety percent of the time. Going fishing for a living it definitely isn't. I write more words each year than I ever did during my English degree, to say nothing of the thousands of photographs I take each month. But there are odd perks. Getting to fish with with famous personalities on some unique waters is one such treat. I've met Chris Tarrant before on the banks of the Test, but it's still a little surreal to see someone you grew up watching on TV stroll along the bank and say "Morning Dominic, anything doing?" Chris has been a keen pike angler longer than I've been alive. It would be unfair to think of anyone who has pursued the species to the ends of the earth as a "celeb who dabbles in a bit of fishing." He has been everywhere from Western Ireland to Canada- and had some great pike stories to tell. So was there any reward for getting up at silly o'clock and being first on the water? I had vowed to spend the day pike fly fishing- but did afford myself a first hour with a sardine in a big marginal slack. A rip roaring take just minutes in turned out to be my biggest ever trout at eleven pounds twelve ounces! You feel a bit of a fraud catching a fish like this on a sardine- but there you are: Chris then turned up and I switched to the fly while he cast an old school spoon as we wandered in search of further action. I had no objections to having a good chat and playing the role of ghillie- but the pike had other ideas. As Bob James caught up with us to try for some chub and grayling, I was playing the first of several fish that took a liking to one of my larger pike flies. It was hardly bite a cast fishing, but exciting nonetheless- perhaps the best fish of the day was one that bulged after Chris Tarrant's spoon but wouldn't make a last second grab. Fish have no respect for fame or status- and in this respect we're all equal on the bank. That said, Chris has taken pike that any angler would be proud of on both rivers and still waters, with a best of over thirty pounds. From his early dabblings on the Thames, to more recent trips to Chew I got plenty of interesting quotes as well as a very enjoyable day out. We just couldn't get the big one in the end however. Bob James was unwilling to part with any of the grayling he was catching further down; in fairness the smaller ones were around the pound mark and it would have been sacrilege to contemplate slinging one of them out on treble hooks. In other news, I've been making the most of wet weather by getting back to the fly tying vise. Below are part of a series of classic Spiders (or "Soft Hackles") destined for one of the American magazines. I may love fishing in Britain, but the wages are generally fairly pitiful for a writer and I'm honoured to contribute in the States, where readership numbers and standards of writing are very high. They also love their fly fishing and it's great to write about British flies and traditions to a different audience.

Tea on the Test

Having already seen the quality of winter coarse fishing on the Test, I was just as excited to make a return visit with Bob James and Chris Tarrant to see this famous river in all its spring glory. A little fishing hut beside one of the rivers many pools is a pleasure in itself. Exclusive or otherwise, water as tasty as this quickly turns grown men into excited kids- and you can be sure many of the best, worst and most optimistic plans are hatched over a brew in these surroundings.

Fishing goes back to the 1300's on the estate where we visited, but the management and use of the water stretches back to the Romans- who can't have failed to make use of the ridiculously clean, rich water which was later also used to produce crisp new bank notes. And the salmon were once so plentiful that the gentry used them to build fences (ok, that last bit is bollocks):

The Test also produces crisp, classic looking fish of course- and in these more enlightened times, coarse fish have been allowed to thrive besides the trout and salmon. Still, there's something quite amusing about watching anglers on the most hallowed trout stream in the world commenting "cor, that looks like a cracking place to trot for roach!" And why not? It all adds variety- not to mention some more affordable fishing later in the year. For the coming months however, it is the trout which provide the obsession.

The day was so hot it was better for pictures than fishing however, although James and Tarrant had a few casts in the course of their recce. The air was thick with grannom sedge in places- almost so that the fish had too much choice! Still- the Test is one of those places which is so beautiful it would be difficult not to come away feeling the better for it.

On the Test with Bob James

This week's relentlessly wet weather could do little to take the gloss off an outing featuring one of Britain's most distinguished anglers on the banks of the celebrated River Test. It's a far cry from Tiverton Canal, that's for damned sure. Although better known for its outrageously fine (and bloody expensive) trout fishing, this historic river and its carrier streams are also home to some cracking coarse fish, with roach a real passion for Bob.

Besides my own presence on the bank, Mr James was also being filmed for part of a new series which sees him tackle a succession of idyllic locations. So much for pressure though- in spite of the dreary, tricky conditions his experience and humour shone through the drizzle.

Inevitably for the Test, trout crashed the party at times. But eventually Bob connected with some flawless grayling, as well as fit dace and chub. But where were those roach? It wasn't for any lack of technique. Bob is in his element trotting a stick float, putting a new Hardy Marksman rod and 4" Centrepin through their paces (well, you didn't expect Bob to get his tackle from Argos did you?).

I certainly learned a great simply by observing. In fact, I believe that if I can impart even half of my own lesson here into some forthcoming material, I'm sure it'll be a gem for river anglers. In between shooting I even managed to do some trotting myself; the fish here are beautiful and a juicy chub was perhaps the highlight from the sort of swim I usually only dream about.

Back to centre stage however, the roach were playing hard to get. A move to the main River Test saw greater success with Bob's target species, simply beautiful roach of bright silver and impossibly red fins. And as for the finer points, well you'll just have to wait for the feature!

In several hours of rain I got the devils own soaking but still enjoyed every minute in Bob's company on a river that stirs the heart even in the doldrums of winter. Something to fill my daydreams perhaps next time I'm stuck in traffic on the "as seen in Crimestoppers" side of Exeter.