Coarse surprises for spring

I’ve enjoyed some really interesting sessions this past couple of weeks, despite much of my free time being squeezed, crunched or written off. This is definitely a huge benefit of lure or fly fishing though; you can be packed and ready to fish in seconds. Nor is a lack of time my problem solely- it’s the same for loads of my friends who lead equally busy lives and seldom manage to get a full day in. I strongly suspect this is part of the reason why the fishing world is changing, and light, mobile methods are the in thing at the moment.

Sometimes, admittedly, it can take me a good hour to forget my to do list and all the shit rattling around in my brain. But I know of no better place to throw it all into the depths than a little estate lake I’ve been frequenting for about a year now. Not the cheapest, for a skinflint such as I, but very pretty and very rich in insect life. A handful of others fish for the carp with bait, but I just love wandering about with the fly rod. I tend to take two set ups: a four weight for rudd and hybrids, plus a nine weight for the carp, which really take some stopping. On those days when nobody else is around to bother, I also sometimes take a little boat out.


Perhaps the dry, hot days this spring are the culprit, but it hasn’t been all plain sailing due to quite coloured water- and the same goes for the canals. This makes spotting the fish harder, and also makes it harder for them to spot your flies. Bigger spiders have worked though (up to a size 12) along with red or claret buzzers with a little flash. Sometimes a tag team of two is better than one also, if only to double your chances in coloured water. If nothing else the rudd have obliged:



Funny fish these. Shy, too, where they don’t see a lot of humans. Make a shit cast and they flee like a gun has gone off. Land it right, with the flies settling gently where they can see them and they’ll take with zero hesitation, making you wonder why you ever found it difficult ten minutes ago. I’ve yet to spy a really big one, but there are loads in the 6oz to 1lb class that kick very pleasantly on light gear- in fact, not even the lightest match rod gives a better buzz.

Other, stranger things are also stirring. I think they’re rudd bream or roach bream hybrids. I pick my words carefully because I’m not sure and I’ve never seen a true bream in this little lake. They do like forming a squadron a foot or two under the surface though, sometimes mixing with the better rudd. Sink a fly to one stealthily and they’ll often take at the first time of asking. Although a lot of anglers see them as not entirely desirable, they do tend to fight harder per pound than either rudd or bream. This one took a claret buzzer:


The beauty of a natural, mixed fishery is that you're never quite sure what you'll encounter next. For some coarse fish, such as bream and tench, I rarely go all out for them but will usually fish for bites with an easier species like roach, rudd or perch, but always be prepared to have a cast at any bonuses that show up. The value of always being ready cannot be too keenly stressed either: when that surprise fish comes into view, you simply must be ready to make an instant delivery, rather than faff around trying to find the fly or untangle the fly line.

For the sake of my curiosity as much as anything else, I'm always scanning the water and dipping a net into the edge to see what I might be able to copy. Midges are a given, but there are also stacks of water boatmen, shrimp and -not to be confused- hog lice like this chap:



When it comes to the actual fishing though, provided you pick flies that look naturally edible and present them in the right way, you have a chance. Hare's Ears, Shrimps and dark spiders are all useful staples that will catch various coarse fish.
The other conspicuous customers on the last session were the carp, but these can be harder to tempt. I blew it with a couple of nice fish that I got too close to, but also elicited a take from a solid looking mirror carp. Had I delayed the strike, rather than lifting too early, I might have had much bigger end to the session.


In other news, I’ve also been mixing a bit of work with pleasure down on the edge of Cornwall. My day job is copywriting, but I also like to make the most of my photography skills to go with my words. The Jamaica Inn is one of those really quirky, genuinely different and historic places that I’ve been helping to promote. This particular photo shoot involved Murphy; not an Irishman, but a beautiful black and white-masked horse. Suitably gothic looking for one of the most haunted places in Cornwall.


You can read all about an interesting session on Colliford Lake on the new Turrall Flies blog, which also comes with a chance to win a selection of my favourite flies for the venue. All you have to do is follow us on Facebook or Twitter and share the post.

Spring Fly Fishing

Ah, spring. Don't you just love it? The sun has been up. The fish are rising and you can venture out with only a t-shirt on your back and possibly a fly rod. Not that spring fly fishing is always easy. I've had mixed fortunes, but some encouraging results for both coarse species and trout this week.


Aiming wet flies at rudd and roach was today's treat. My usual little spiders and "rudd bugs" came to the fore on the Grand Western Canal, but it was a case of walking and looking hard for the better shoals of fish. Only the really tiny ones seemed willing to touch flies on the surface, but by presenting slow sinking wets I had two net sized rudd in quick succession and even the smaller ones that followed were beautiful.

The roach wanted a fly presented rather deeper, and with the wind sometimes blowing smaller flies off course I opted for slightly heavier patterns to try and get amongst them. A size 16 Tan Shrimp or Roach Grub worked well for these, although the takes were sometimes really cute. The job was made much easier in the sunshine, as I could sight fish. I even had a crack at a surprise tench that wandered through the swim, but failed to get the grub fly directly into its path. Never mind, here's one of several roach that intercepted a falling nymph:

It hasn't been all plain sailing however. A trip to a different canal was more testing, with coloured water and debris making it tough to spot fish and cast to them unimpeded. What should the angler do if they can't easily spot the fly? An small indicator was the answer, to suspend small flies in the top two feet (and I prefer the foam, stick on kind, which you can even snip in half for a really cute little indicator). With fish hard to spot it was usually a case of scanning the water for rise forms and moving fish. They weren't big, but I had three species in order: rudd, roach and bleak.

The trout fishing has also steadily been improving on my travels too, and I had the great pleasure of a day on the River Rea with my publisher, Merlin Unwin. A pretty stream this one, lost somewhere in the Shropshire countryside and full of twists and turns. I was a bit muddy on our arrival and little was rising, so we went for nymphs.

A handful of pretty browns were hard won on the day, but I loved exploring this new river. There were lambs everywhere in the fields. We found otter tracks and there are even the ghostly remains of an old railway platform out here.
And it was great to hear some of Merlin's stories: of fishing with the Mr Crabtree author Bernard Venables, or the summer that Ludlow was flooded with mayflies. And we also celebrated the coming of my new book with a beer. Stocks of "Canal Fishing: A Complete Guide" will be in very soon.

Wild rivers are one thing, but the fish have been bigger in semi-urban locations recently. Not that the water quality is in any way lacking in many of our towns. Is there anything nicer than a shallow, stony river where you can sight fish for wild trout? We have free fishing in several Devon locations- (Theo Pike's book "Trout in Dirty Places" is a great resource).


A quick wander with a four weight was great fun. No dry fly takes on this occasion, and the trick was to get a nymph down to the fish. A hare's ear worked in the slightly deeper bits, or a PTN in some lovely shallow runs where trout were sitting in just a foot or so of water. This was the best of them, at 13" or so but very lean.

Mixed Pickings

No matter how much or how far I travel in my fishing, there's something incredibly endearing about smaller adventures closer to home. I shudder to think how many interesting (and usually cheap) waters there must be in my own surrounding area, let alone the country.
The Ilminster Canal is a particular oddity I've wanted to try for a while. It was my right hand man on the forthcoming Canal Fishing book, Russ Hilton, who tipped me off about the place- and joined me for a cast yesterday. Remarkable for it's tiny size, the history alone is curious: a colossal failure in commercial terms, the Chard Canal was a case of poor timing and bad investment. It was meant to stretch for many miles, but after severe decline, the two hundred yards or so of water known as the Ilminster Canal which you can see today are all that remain.

Not that this is so unusual. There are various little isolated remnants of canal dotted around Britain- many of which feature in the new book. For the angler, a these little dead ends also have advantages: with no boat traffic and effectively no joining waters for fish to go missing, fishing clubs can and do have some real fun with fish stocks. The Ilminster is no exception, holding carp, goldfish, tench and even chub. It was the roach and perch we were after on a morning session however.

It was a cold day in the end. The bigger fish weren't active, although I started to make up a tidy little net of roach on maggots. Russ comfortably must have doubled this on bread however, catching plenty in just a few short hours. Actually, it's always interesting comparing notes with a pal on an unfamiliar water. In hindsight, I rather went for broke trying to catch some different species- but just couldn't find many bonus fish, even trying chopped worm or corn. Even so, this handsome perch gave me an epic tussle on delicate tackle intended for roach:

Other highlights included the rather friendly park cat, Sam. A bit of an attention seeker this one, he's so popular with the locals I reckon the old devil probably eats about five dinners each day:

Considering it was bitterly cold at times -and we also had a dose of thick hail- this was a really enjoyable little session. But for the sake of variety we also hit Dillington Pond in the afternoon:

This is another good looking venue with a genuine surprise element. Russ set up lighter tackle and tried tares for the roach and rudd while I went rather less classical, using a stepped up pole rig to tackle the snags with large baits including worms and prawns in the hope of a bonus.

Nor did it take long to arrive! My rig would give Bob Nudd nightmares: a large dibber float, five pound line straight through and a forged size six hook. Going for broke with a whole king prawn, I hooked something strong that needed wrestling from cover in no uncertain terms. Imagine my surprise when a three pound plus chub surfaced!

Otherwise the fish were in slightly iffy mood. Nor can you blame them- the perch, in particular can't be too far off spawning, although I had a couple around the pound mark for good measure, while soaking in the slightly regal surroundings. The stately home here looks so old time, you half expect the Adams Family to emerge from the front door as the light goes:

I do love spring. If the temperatures are still a bit fresh, so are the colours! And we still have the whole summer to waste in style. My friends will readily tell you, I'm not really a target-setting angler, and my main aim this year is simply to soak it all in and find some fun detours. Talking of which, you can read about "Britains Secret Canals" in my current Angling Times series, which features the Bude Canal this week.

A Tough Call

I spoke in my last update of the impossible task of judging a contest which includes a stack of different species, with all manner of sizes and scenarios. Talk about a headache! I had the most supportive of angling stars to help with Matt Hayes and John Bailey on board, both really keen fly anglers themselves and generous in their support. The trouble was, each of us had a different fish in first place, so it was down to second and third slots in the end. A huge well done goes to Geoff Hadley for his first placed bream, which wins a leather bound collector's edition of "Flyfishing For Coarse Fish" worth a cool £150.

How does a fish of four pounds beat others several times that size? There will be some who disagree, but the whole idea of the competition was about the fun, skill and challenge- not necessarily the figure on the scales. Every one of the panel agreed that to sight fish for bream and pick a fish off with a wet fly was a brilliantly unorthodox catch- and the captor hooked and lost another on the very next cast! Definitely a catch to demonstrate what is possible with a little imagination. So often I feel that the biggest barrier to such fascinating, convention-busting sport is in the angler's brain. But if you don't try something, how do you know it won't work? I feel like we've opened a door already with the "Fly for Coarse" project- and the more people give it a try, the wider this door will be flung open.

I have to say, I'm a little surprised that one of the huge pike captures didn't win outright. We had both John Machin (above) and Andy Cheetham, each with pike of over thirty pounds! Hugely impressive captures and they will both consider themselves a little unlucky, but at least grab themselves a prize for being high on our list.
The selection was also bolstered by plenty of other great entries. Mr Dorr's five pound plus chub on a dry fly is a wonderful capture too- as were several others. John Bailey's favourite was this double figure carp, caught on a sinking daddy longlegs (below). A fantastic fish, no doubt, and one that I think he wanted to highlight as an inspiration for modern carp anglers to try something a little different:

Anyhow, the headache of picking a winner aside, the competition has been really refreshing and thought provoking. I hope it at least shatters a few illusions and represents an ethos that's slightly lacking at present. A bit of fun and unpredictability surely can't go amiss? Talking of fun, I've just received the first of several nice mouthfuls intended for chub this summer, which I've designed for Turrall. This one's called the "Jasper" (a wasp, for those not of Westcountry bias):

And fun was also the main agenda for my last trip as I searched for somewhere not resembling trench warfare to fish. I surprised my old man with a pole fishing set for Christmas, which needed a decent trial. Say what you like about commercials (and most people do) but they do keep fishing regardless of muddy, horrible conditions. I tend to pick the ones that aren't purely stuffed with carp- and Shillingford is never too bad for variety. Even on a pretty cold morning, the first hour was good, although in typical style the very swim I wanted for the perch was bagged by a bloke who turned up at the identical time as us but had the foresight to whack his stuff down to reserve the peg. Never mind, the bites came quick- and the fish, while not huge, were nice hand sized roach and perch, the sort you would happily catch all day any day.


The carp inevitably made their appearance as we kept trickling the feed in. Dad was thrilled to bits with his new pole, (the romantically named 6m Browning "Pitbull") that provided some fun with the roach on the light top kit, but serious stopping power for some margin carping. The gift was just the thing in fact. When we started fishing as tiny kids, it was he who plonked a fibreglass whip in our hands; quite nice to return the favour three decades later with a more up to date pole!


Meanwhile, I also enjoyed a bite filled pole session. Why oh why do folks still fish with alarms and bolt rigs for match sized winter carp I wonder? I find it baffling, seeing as you'll catch twice as many on lighter, balanced tackle- and actually enjoy a bit of a battle. Our kit was typically 4lb rig line to a 3.3lb low diameter hook length, followed by a wide gape size 16 hook and a worm or two maggots. A little hempseed didn't seem to hurt either in holding both carp and decent roach in the swim. All good fun I guess, although I am already pining for spring and watching some fish rise so I can break out the fly rod properly.

Carp, Cameras, Cuts

How do you turn fishing into an even less predictable sport? The simplest way I know is to throw a camera into the mix. Articles are easy in one sense because you can combine the best parts from several sessions, whether successful or not. We all "edit" our fishing in our minds- remembering the best bits and fast forwarding the parts when nothing worked. When you have a matter of half a day, it's catch or bust. You have to pack your message into a tight time frame and still deliver. And fish don't read scripts. But in one sense I love the pressure. It's like fishing a match- every bite becomes important.

As part of a new little film project, I've been taking a look at different waters starting with the Basingstoke Canal, with Steve Partner behind the lens. And what a pretty canal this is- absolutely stuffed with roach and perch to offer bite a chuck pole fishing. The only conspicuous absence were the bream- although a detour on another stretch led to some classic tench fishing on camera, with fewer fish but of a lovely stamp. I also encountered some less welcome bonuses in the form of huge, horrible crayfish. We're so lucky in Devon not to have these foul, invasive critters lurking everywhere. I'm not the most squeamish when it comes to living things, but these buggers gave me the jitters. Euughhh!

Slightly conscious that summer is steadily running out, I've also been back at the carp. It was my Dad who had the slightly crackpot idea of trying small potatoes to try for a decent fish or two, and finally I took him up on the idea. Perhaps it wasn't such a leap after all- before the days of boilies, the par-boiled spud ruled supreme as the king of selective carp baits. At the very least I fancied they would be selective. It has to be a half decent fish to wrap its lips around a small potato, and back in the 70's and 80's Garnett senior used to catch bream as well as carp on them, once losing a giant fish on a big Swiss lake that took a spud and proceeded to remove line at a frightening rate.

We had to wait into evening to get our first runs on the spuds, a little cloud cover helping to get the fish down after a sunny afternoon. It would have felt plain wrong to bolt rig using this ultra traditional bait, so instead we freelined them- and if nothing else a small King Edward casts well! They're also protein rich. As the light began to dip we had that first pleasing, steady pull on the indicator and it was fish on. The fish were a decent size for a small pond too, with the old man taking the best of three at twelve and a half pounds- and a lovely looking common carp it was too. Are potatoes about to take over from boilies? There's more chance of Exeter City FC signing Christiano Ronaldo, but hey- the carp still like these less than fashionable baits.

Highlands and Lows

Decidedly mixed feelings crowd my head as I sit and type this, slightly cranky from a long drive. Enthralled on the one hand from some beautiful and unexpected fishing in Scotland; gutted on the other with a car repair bill that nearly made me faint. What looked like an affordable holiday quickly got expensive when my car blew a head gasket on the trip up. Just before Stoke, the other half commented that the engine sounded funny- a bit like there were a gang of Chileans under the bonnet playing pan pipes. Five minutes later and I was looking at a horrible mixture of steam and oil. A total mess; it looked someone had massacred Thomas the Tank Engine. I guess we do use and abuse our fishing vehicles.

We might have abandoned our trip there and then, but I thought sod it. Cramming supplies into a rental car, we were on the road again, getting to Fort William decidedly late. The right decision, because when your head isn't in a good place there's nowhere better for the soul than the Highlands. Loch Morar is so beautiful it makes you gasp, even on a return visit.

It was also great to see Loch Superintendent Viv de Fresnes again, who was there with a smile and a cup of coffee, ready to take on Morar. Fishing was challenging at times, but Viv took me to some fabulous looking areas of the lake. Perhaps the biggest surprise is that on two visits I've never seen another fly fisherman on the Loch.

Viv's approach is classic, pulling meaty traditional flies through a rolling wave to stir up aggressive wild brown trout. Well, that was the plan- sometimes the weather was just too still and sunny. I like a guide who gives it to you straight- and Viv is not one of those who'll waste your time and money when conditions are all wrong. Instead, we held fire and returned for better periods when a proper breeze was kicking up.
Even when the fishing was tough, the crack was great. Viv was as keen as I was to raise a monster "troot", and without his relentless optimism and knowledge of Morar I would have been on a hiding to nothing. The tactics were smart and varied too- which I'll detail at greater length in an article, along with more on the fascinating character of this magical place. Each time the line went solid I was enthralled by the savage power of these trout, with even the half pounders throwing severe temper tantrums on a seven weight. (Grab a look at www.lochmorar.org.uk/fishing for more info on great value guided fishing).

The other real bonus in Scotland is the huge variety of hill lochs. I tackle these with a float tube where possible. Lazy fishing it is not. The walk is often like hell, the fishing like heaven. Jo and I battled the hillside carrying supplies to find a good sized upland lake totally new to me. She fished from the shore, while I took the tube.

Puffing the bloody tube with air is pretty character building after a steep hike, but once you're set up it affords you endless freedom to hit areas that simply never see a fly line. I had a dozen splendidly marked fish to around the pound mark. Last year I battered them on the Sedgehog- a fly I've been slightly fixated with ever since my pal from the Shetlands, artist Paul Bloomer sent me a little bundle of them. This time, they seemed to pick of the other flies in the team more often (although I always feel the "wake" of the hog helps draw fish to your other flies). The "Heathen" is my latest experiment. To all extents and purposes it's like a traditional hackled wet fly crossed with (gulp!) a blob. The trout loved it:

When you're in the middle of a wild lake, the wind on your face and hits coming thick and fast, it's impossible not to feel like the world is a better place, hefty vehicle bill or not. I absolutely love it here.
And the fun wasn't quite over on the way back either. We stopped in Glasgow, of all places, to have a cast on the local canal. Beguilingly pretty it was too, and contrary to the cliches, all the locals we met were incredibly friendly. The fishing wasn't easy, but there were some cracking fish showing. In the space of an afternoon session we saw pike, roach and even a carp. It was the roach that really excited me. Some of them looked huge.

I started with the fly rod, but with a combination of heavy tow and a fierce cross wind I found a convincing presentation impossible. Tempting them on bread flake under a waggler didn't seem much easier- some fat roach taking a look but proving totally suspicious in the clear water. I finally managed a cracker of a pound and a quarter, but the rest spooked and with the tow picking up I felt like I'd have been better off with a stick float and centre pin. Plan C was a quiver tip. I kept feeding mashed bread and, relieved to see some seriously large roach still milling about, stuck with a big piece of flake. My set up was rather unusual to say the least- but it worked! In fact I think I may have stumbled upon something really useful, largely by the accident of only having limited tackle at my disposal. More on this at some other juncture- necessity is indeed the mother of invention!


The best of the bag (above) was ridiculously broad. It looked like it had swallowed that Glasgow delicacy, a battered Mars bar. This was a truly giant canal roach, and a bit like my car repair bill, darned near priceless!