Fly Fishing at Simpson Valley, North Devon

If there is one glaring contrast between coarse and game fishing in the UK, it is that of catch and release practise. On stocked stillwaters, certainly, the coarse side is never “catch and kill” (unless you’re breaking the law) while the fly side is almost always exactly this; catch your bag and sling your hook, so to speak.



Which is why Simpson Valley Fishery makes a refreshing change. There are very few catch and release fly fisheries in Devon, full stop. Owners fear that their fish will either grow wary or they will lose stock anyway, due to the fragility of rainbow trout and (so, shoot me), the not very brilliant catch and release skills of many game anglers. Perhaps this is connected to the lack of catch and release fisheries?!!

But here, at least, in a quiet corner of North Devon, the game changes a little. You don’t have that risk of your day being over in under an hour, effectively, should the fish be too bold and easy to catch. Nor do you end up with four trout in the freezer when you only really needed one (even my trout in mustard sauce loses its charm after a couple of nights). Equally refreshing, as some readers might note with interest, you are free to lure fish here provided you use single barbless hooks.



A £20 day ticket is decent value for quality rainbow trout fishing, but fisheries such as this, and their stocks, need respect if the owners are to continue offering such tickets. Sensible rules include barbless hooks only and these tickets only running through the colder months, since rainbows suffer much higher mortalities in warm water. Nor should you take the piss, and I can think of little more pointless than catching silly numbers of trout by pulling streamers through the water. No, this is the type of fishery to try a subtle approach and enjoy testing different presentations with smaller flies.

Much as I enjoy getting features and pictures done, I like to keep a good number of sessions for pure pleasure these days. Excessive target setting and deadlines can be the enemy of fun. So I took my dad, a self-confessed fair weather fisher, for a semi-lazy day out.

At first, the trout were a little slow to respond on Mallard Lake. I tried a long leader with a Superglue Buzzer on point, but it was a Diawl Bach on the dropper that got the first take. A pretty fish of about a pound and a half, I barely handled it at all, keeping it wet using the landing net head in the margin. There really isn’t any need to yank these fish out and have them flap on the bank and get stressed.



But with the lake flat calm for the next hour or so, sport was slow and it didn’t take me long to dig a pike fly setup out of the car. Mallard is unusual in containing pike. Most fly fishery owners wouldn’t dream of stocking any. You don’t suspect there are many big pike in the lake; you tend to see little jacks that probably stay small, because they cannot handle the rainbows and without any coarse fish beyond the occasional perch they probably struggle to kick on. Even so, it’s worth a go for them here in your trout session, because there are almost certainly one or two good fish.


I did a lap of the whole lake in around an hour, running a large pike fly into every likely area. In fairness I did see one, and it was a good twenty…. centimetres. By which time, the breeze was picking up and I felt reasonably confident the trout would respond better.

Such is the way with buzzer fishing. If it’s flat calm, you have to manipulate the flies more. Nothing like as good as casting into a nice ripple and simply letting the flies drift with very little retrieve to speak of. Do nothing is often the best policy- just wait for the pull.

The bites were not always positive on a cool afternoon. With the next bite, the only signal was my leader “sinking” a bit too quickly. This in itself was an indication that the fish were a little higher in the water than I’d expected. In fact, you can tell a lot by the time it takes to get a bite, especially when you’re barely retrieving the flies. If it’s a good minute or more after casting out, you can be fairly sure that the fish are several feet down. Savvy anglers will then switch to heavier or lighter flies in order to spend more time in the “take zone.”


Pretty soon, the fair weather king also struck. And although we pretend not to keep score on these trips, he hit a run of trout to come from 2-0 down to 3-2 in the lead.

If anything, the action seemed better on the smaller Skylark lake, where the wind was concentrating the fish in one corner. I was getting bites on a Black Superglue Buzzer, but it still wasn’t plain sailing, with many bites quite tentative. Eventually, a switch to a smaller fly worked best- in this case a size 14 Satanic Buzzer, which has to be one of the greatest trout flies never to be commercially produced! Basically it’s a buzzer with two little red flexi-floss horns.



Could we have cleaned up on lure style flies? I don’t really care, because I love fishing the buzzer, using the elements for a natural presentation and picking out those subtler takes. We finished with a dozen trout between us, every one of them unhooked in the landing net with minimal handling.

A very pleasant and increasingly rare day off I’d say, with twelve trout between us a nice result for a crisp, cold day without a great deal of breeze or insect life! This is a cracking winter fishery and the C&R tickets run through till 1st of April if you’re keen to try. It’s also a spot I’ve used successfully on several occasions for guided fly fishing trips in Devon; do drop me a line if you fancy learning to fly fish, or refining your casting and fishing skills (more details on all my fishing tuition and guided angling here).

Last but not least, do take a look at the current Turrall Flies Blog for more fishing tips and some superb fly patterns. Chris Ogborne recently gave us a cracking little blog post on gearing up for saltwater sport, while the next entry will be focused on catch and release tips that both coarse and fly anglers can learn from. It still surprises me how few words are written on this important subject each season, while we cover tactics, baits and venues to death! To my mind, it’s something even experienced anglers can improve at and learn more about their quarry- myself included. Check out all the blog posts HERE.

Summer Fishing School

Who are the most important people in fishing today? The answer is simple: those youngsters who will form the next generation of anglers. Their first trials and tangles with fish are the first precious steps on the road to success. But in every case a friendly helping hand, not to mention someone to take them fishing in the first place, are essential.
This is exactly the reason why I've been so keen to set up some proper fishing sessions for youngsters this summer and I'm delighted to report a roaring success. It takes energy and organisation, as well as coaching badges and pints of maggots, but it is also one of the genuine highlights of what I do. That grin that says "I just caught my first fish" (as demonstrated here by young Tyler Billing) is absolutely priceless.

Can you actually teach the art of fishing in just four hours? The honest answer is that there's no way on earth you could cover it all in that time. But what you can do is to coach some basic yet vital skills such plumbing the depth, loose feeding, striking and safely releasing your catch. The vital thing is not so much to catch fish, but to catch that spark of enthusiasm that every true angler has.

Some old heads will tell you "it's about fishing, not catching," but I believe it's important for beginners to have some degree of success quite early. Which is why West Pitt Farm proved the perfect venue to take our new crop of young anglers. It's also a great place to learn one or two vital lessons: Firstly, that if you keep feeding small amounts of bait accurately, you'll catch a lot more fish. But equally, I'm always keen to show that you don't need to cast miles to catch- and many of the fish on small lakes are right by the bank.

By using simple tackle (margin poles or waggler set ups) and fairly light gear (4-5 pound line to size 14 barbless hooks) everyone caught plenty. Not all beginners are fans of maggots, so sweetcorn was probably the most successful bait and we got through pints of the stuff, while loose feeding small pellets too. The species list was quite varied from the very first hour, with various carp (common, mirror and ghost) joined by roach, rudd, bream and some interesting hybrids.



I just love the enthusiasm and imagination of kids- probably the part I miss most about being an English teacher in a former life. Young minds don't set limits and will always come up with crazy questions and ideas. Without any prompting, for example, we had various experiments with baits going on. On day one we had fish going nuts for broken Pringles, while I still have a grin on my face from cheeky chappie Nathan White who used a Haribo sweet on his hook to catch a carp! Is he a nut case, a genius or a bit of both?


As well as the smaller fish we also had some real whoppers on the bank too, especially once the sun came up and we could target fish on the surface with baits like bread and cat biscuits. The biggest of the lot was landed by Josh Fawcett and expertly netted by his sister, Pip (you can see the beastie at the top of this blog entry). In one sense I was relieved because Josh had played an absolute monster for about ten minutes before losing it earlier that day. The best fish on day two was landed by fifteen year old Sofia and was well deserved; while the boys were all talking a good game she quietly got the better of a cracking common carp, which was so long she got younger brother Finn to hold one end of it for a picture. What a catch:

All in all it was a brilliant two days and I left shattered but happy. Perhaps the perfect ending was to see Josh Fawcett playing a carp as we left. Having enjoyed the sessions earlier he had returned to the fishery to fish solo, landing a real belter of a fish with the skills he's learned, no coach now required!
It had been a great success then, but one that in no small part was thanks to two individuals in particular. Suzanne, who runs West Pitt Fishery, showed great kindness and support in letting youngsters fish the sessions for free as well as donating tackle and other bits in the process. I think this speaks volumes about her attitude to young anglers and I only wish every fishery had someone with such a good heart. I'd also like to thank Glynn Mansell too, who donated a boot load of seat boxes, nets, rods and other things which were invaluable over the two days. If every fisherman passed on tackle to the next crop of girls and boys so willingly, we could arm a whole generation of would be anglers. If there's any such thing as karma, you deserve to win the lottery Glynn!


So, a huge thanks to all who attended- and for any Exeter based youngsters, we also have an event running at South View Farm this coming Thu/Fri 28/29. Just call me to book: 07804 240986. If it's half as much fun, it'll be a blast.
Not that coarse fishers have had all the kicks this week though, because I've also been starting others on a similar journey at fly fishing. Even given that keen lads Harry and Alfie Keyes and their dad Danny already go coarse fishing, I was impressed at how quickly they picked the basics up at Simpson Valley Fishery.

I often like to start things off without the distractions of fish and water until newcomers can perform a decent cast. I've spent a long time on occasion suring up someone's basic cast, but after just an hour or so on grass all three of the new recruits were putting out a tidy loop of line. In fact I'd go so far as to say that young Alfie is one of the most natural fly casters I've ever taught.
Nice looking casts don't guarantee you trout though. Even on a prolific fishery, hot weather can make catching harder so I was dreading the bright weather we'd been forecast. Carp on small stillwaters might like a warm summers day, but rainbow trout are actually far more catchable in cool weather, right into the winter. Using nymphs such as Hare's Ears and Buzzers however, we received some good early takes before it got too warm and all three got a bend in their rods. Thrilling and satisfying stuff, because as much as I like to help as a guide I cannot make the fish take your flies.

A two fish ticket at Simpson Valley is sensational value at just £10 (and also helps me keep a guided session for three really affordable!), and our anglers had five fish between them to reward a great first crack at fly fishing. No lures in sight either, with the best fly on the day a size 14 Hare's Ear slowly twitched where fish were showing. Well played lads!

So, I'm really satisfied after a hectic week of coaching, but very much looking forward to an afternoon off with (you never thought I'd say this) no fishing for a change. Phew.

A Change of Attack

It's never a bad idea to have a plan B when it comes to a fishing trip. Especially a slightly speculative one, where you're not quite sure if conditions will be right. The original plan on my last outing was to target some large perch on Upper Tamar Lake in the company of Mr Garnett Senior. It probably had more to do with pure optimism than anything else. And we nearly didn't fish at all when on arrival one of the staff immediately decided to play the dreaded health and safety card: "people don't fly fish here, you can't do it" etc. Sadly you still get those at fisheries who are curiously anti-fly fishing. But after a long drive I wasn't about to give up. There were no rules stating this. Ironically enough we then asked to speak to his boss on the phone, who was a fly fisher himself and very keen on the idea of attracting more fly fishers to try for the coarse fish! Anyway, it was resolved- and out came the perch flies. And no member of the public died of shock or was impaled by a wayward cast (although we were in Cornwall, and the excitement might have been welcome).

It turned out to be a beautiful morning, but probably too early still for perch. The water was still chilly and there were very few signs of life close to the bank: the only guy getting bites on the lake was casting a good sixty yards. Even so, we tried a few places and options for a good four hours. Sunk lines and lures seemed the obvious way to tackle big depths, but I also tried a booby where snags threatened to catch our lures. It was pretty dead sadly- and the only perch I spotted was one of about four inches nibbling the tail of the fly at the end of a retrieve. A case of right place but wrong time? I think probably yes; a big volume of water needs time to warm up I guess, and bring the small fish and the perch who chase them into shallower water within double haul range. I would love to try boat fishing- but god knows what health and safety nightmare that could instigate. The universe might collapse. God forbid, someone might actually try something different or risk having some fun. There must be a rule about it somewhere.


So, what to do with a very pleasant but perchless afternoon? Simpson Valley were very friendly when I gave them a bell- and a catch and release ticket got our vote. A great shout because the conditions were wonderful: proper spring weather but with just enough of a breeze to ruffle the water and present a buzzer to marauding trout, which we could already see taking something at the surface.

Amidst the strange t-shirt weather, we found the fish quickly. As is so often with buzzer fishing, if you find the fish and get the flies to the right depth it's easy. Light patterns seemed to work best, and the fact that bites tended to come quite early after casting suggested the fish were shallow. Lightly dressed buzzers and skinny wet flies worked best, the real standout being a red ribbed Daiwl Bach:

We finished with fifteen fish between us, averaging perhaps a pound but very fit. You do have to be a little careful with releasing rainbows, so none of them was taken onto dry land, but all unhooked in the net. Plain sailing you might say, although as the wind dropped and it got disarmingly warm the fish did go deeper and we found the flies needed to be sunk a little better to keep catching. All good fun in the end and a lot of willing takers- perhaps with the exception of this little customer sitting in the margin, who sat there motionless:
He wouldn't have managed a rainbow trout but might easily have fancied snacking on some of the mating toads we watched, clumsily paddling the margins. Isn't spring magic?

Pike, perch and prawns

Unlike other sports, one of the really fantastic things about fishing is that it appeals to all ages. If you get the bug, it doesn't matter whether you're six or eighty six. What is the best age to be an angler? There is something magical about taking youngsters fishing. It always takes me right back to my own childhood, so it was my great pleasure to host for Michael Pryor and his son Raphael at the weekend for a spot of pike fishing. A hearty walk was in order, with flies and lures dropped into every likely corner.

I loved their enthusiasm, which was certainly called for on a testing day, not to mention Raphael's laughter and endlessly entertaining questions (typical example: "Could a pike of 100 pounds eat one of 99 pounds?"). It turned out to be one of those days where we only had a few chances- and some dodgy luck, especially with a nice fish of around five pounds lost at the net for Raphael. If anything, this only seemed to fuel his enthusiasm even more. By the close of play he was casting like a pro and still marching on in search of bites. If one day I have a son of my own I only hope he is half as keen and such great company as this.

Otherwise, I've been back on the trail of perch. I had an enjoyable session with Russ Hilton at Simpson Valley, which seems a great little mixed fishery at the moment, if a bit of a drive on the backroads. I'm doing an increasing amount of mixing methods, by which I mean putting a pole to good use, but stepping tackle up and using quite big baits. Prawns are one offering I've never really given a fair trial, so I persevered with them this time.

Usually in February, I'd be trying the deep water on a small lake- but with it being so mild lately, the perch have been turning up really close to the bank, or typically just where the water deepens. It was to be a fun session, but also another one of near misses. I was getting so many false bites at one point, I switched to just a small piece of prawn and the culprits were revealed. Not only did I bag a three pound bream and one or two nice roach, but this rather handsome hybrid. Not a monster perch, but some very welcome variety:

After enjoying some good bites I then threw down the gauntlet a little and fed heavier, with chopped worm and prawns. The real regret was a solid perch that fought well and came off just when I was getting the upper hand. Russ fared rather better than me with a brace of two pounders (I'm sure he'll enlighten you on his excellent "Tales from the Towpath" blog shortly if you take a peek). My best fish was somewhere round a pound and a half- but was at least proof that prawns have more uses than cookery. Actually, it was an absolutely perfect looking creature, a real pin up of a perch! I think the day I get tired of seeing these is the day I give up fishing:

As for the most random sight of the day, I'm still rather puzzled as to this rather strange use of a gentleman's neck tie. Is this of significance to someone? Perhaps a marker for an angler's favourite swim? Is it art? Or did someone simply find it lost and helpfully hang it on a tree for its owner to find? I have zero idea. Not really my colour though.

Flying West

Back to more active fishing this week. You can only contain me in a bivvy for so long before I get seriously restless. I did finally get into some carp at Darts Farm on another night session, but must have had three of the smallest fish in the lake. I couldn't wait to get back to some more impatient fishing, which started on the Bude Canal (above). This is a crazy little venue; every chance of a flounder amongst the roach. Or indeed a trout, and I had three on maggot or caster.

I waggler fished most of a short session, catching rudd steadily. With hindsight I should perhaps have spent longer down the track for the bream. It's not the prettiest or most sophisticated method, but a small method feeder was deadly. In fact it can be downright unfair- you can be sat there presenting the bait perfectly on a pole and fine tackle and yet next door someone is hauling fish out on a horrendous chunk of groundbait and 6lb hook length. There is a certain pleasure in watching the tip go crazy I suppose, and I landed a cracking bream and lost another two in perhaps 90 minutes of trying this, although pedalo warfare soon slowed things down. Not a bad catch though:

I've also been back on the trail of new waters, first up at St Tinney Farm, which has several of the sort of ponds that take you back to childhood- cute, leafy and stuffed with carp, roach and rudd. I took one look before reaching for the fly rod.

The water was hardly gin clear, so I went for a size 10 black and peacock. The rudd played ball from the off, and I also had some cat and mouse style fun with the carp. I had one suck in the fly without getting hooked, another keep nosing it for several yards and then, finally, a nice mirror bolting off. Just shows, you don't need chum mixers to lure carp. It takes a little more patience, but the fish of mature ponds know exactly what insects are:

I'm hoping to do more with St Tinney in fact (about 20 mins from Bude). There are lots of great little streams and stillwaters nearby as well as the coarse fish on site. Some nice rudd could also form some great guided trips on sunny afternoons. For today's mission, visitors Karl and son Callum Salmon (great fishy surname) were keen to learn to fly fish, so I took them to Simpson Valley to try a half day session. Well versed in coarse fishing techniques this was something entirely new to try.

Some anglers take a bit of practise, others are just naturally good with a fly rod. Callum was definitely one of the latter. I always like to start the process on a nice flat space without the distraction of fish, water and trees. After an hour or so of pointers on grass, he was already creating elegant loops on the lakes. Both our intrepid fly casters caught fish and hopefully caught the bug:

Stirrings of Spring

Chaos with the seasons or otherwise, I remain convinced that May is arguably the best fly fishing month of the year. Things start to hatch. You can (sometimes) take a walk in shorts. The weather has good surprises as well as evil and spontaneous little trips crop up. The rivers are out of bounds for coarse fish, but finally the roach are starting to respond better to flies on still waters. I've been having some joy at least on spiders, bugs and even small emerger buzzers. Little gold heads can be handy too, although I find larger versions can spook the fish. Pick a size 16 hook and a tiny 2-2.3mm bead however and you'll find for every fish or two that turn their noses up, the next will do an impression of a very small hoover. Bingo!


I had several to about half a pound in just a couple of hours on the cut, as well as this tiny surprise pike that took a slightly bigger goldhead I was idly teasing at the edge for a perch. What can I say? Pike just like me. Even when I'm not fishing for them, I find them. They nick my worms when I pole fish, they pinch my flies when I tackle perch or trout- although this must be the smallest fly that I ever tempted a pike with.

Other than that, further adventures have been scribbled rather than carefully planned. I half hoped to tackle a stillwater midweek with fellow fly angler Pete Wilkins. But with a windy, unsettled day in prospect I fancied a small, sheltered stream instead (beat 12, South Yeo, on the Westcountry Angling Passport). Complete with Indiana Jones hat, Pete was game for the challenge too. Although more used to stillwater fishing, he quickly got into the habit of keeping low and making short, tidy casts.

The weather turned sour pretty quickly for us unfortunately, making nymph fishing our main attack. For all those who have an inner fear of the manifold fly patterns that we confuse ourselves with, you could happily catch on these streams all season with simple hares ears and spiders.

A merciful bit of sun in the afternoon and we even saw a bit of a hatch. The odd rise came, as well as swooping birds making the most of the little olives coming off the water. It never really exploded to life, but we both managed to pick off a handful of cute brownies.

Never mind, things are looking up and even the stocked waters seem to be alive with hatches at the moment. Definitely the case at Simpson Valley where I fished a buzzer hatch with my brother, dad and other half for a Bank Holiday trip. It wasn't the heavy versions the fish wanted either, with plenty taking in the upper layers or off the surface.

In fact, I had started with two flies, but all may bag came on the fly I used on the dropper, a Black Flexi Spider. A bit like a cross between a buzzer and a classic soft hackle, I've tied up several of these on size 10 and 12 hooks, but will also be casting some down to 16's and 18's for roach this summer.

It's a pretty easy tie- so I thought I'd provide a short step by step. Materials are very common too:

Hook: Size 10-18 Classic nymph (could also use a light buzzer hook)

Thread: Black

Body: single strand of black flexifloss

Thorax: Peacock Herl

Hackle: Black hen (or could try starling)

Start by running a few turns of thread on your hook (leave a little gap for the head).


Now catch in a piece of flex-floss on top of the shank.

Once you've trapped it firmly, you can pull on the strand to make it thinner, giving you a slim body. Stop above the barb, before returning the thread evenly to about 4mm of the hook eye.

Form your body out of even wraps of flex-floss. Leaving a slight gap between turns will give you nice buzzer like body. Secure with 2-3 tight wraps of thread and trim off excess.

Now catch in a single strand of peacock herl.

Make three or so turns of the herl to produce a thorax:

Tie in a piece of black hen of a size to match the hook.

Make two turns (no more!) of black hen before tying off. Whip finish and varnish the head.

Give it a cast!