Reservoir and Gravel Pit Pike Fishing

While I can always wax lyrical about catching pike on the small waters near my home, I've also been lured by the bigger waters lately. Longer journeys mean bigger risks but also bigger rewards. The very nature of writing means that I have to be nomadic and cover as many stories and experiences as possible. But hit and hope doesn't always pay off. You need a bit of local knowledge, or at least some luck.



Or you need a local nutter, like Polish angler Seb Nowosiad. We were once thick as thieves fishing on the gravel pits. We fished many of these waters and the trips would take up whole weekends. It was survival at times, besides hunting down pike. We camped out, fished and sometimes damned nearly froze together.

My article in the current Fallon's Angler brought it all back. His wild enthusiasm for pike fishing. His daft superstitions. Seb thinks shaving is terrible luck on the day you fish. He also thinks bananas will lead to disaster if you are fishing on any kind of boat.

Our original aim was to go pike fishing on Llangorse Lake, but trying to get any information, let alone a boat for the day was like trying to contact the dead. So instead we headed north to Farmoor Reservoirs, an imposing concrete bowl of immense size where the likes of Paul Garner and Andy Black slay big pike for fun, while the rest of us slowly freeze and stare.



With the sun on your face it was nice just to be out searching the lake though. The structure looked good, I have to say. Classic features here for big perch and trout, and perhaps I should have brought the fly rod. But instead we were hurling big, bold jerk baits and soft lures for the pike. We fished aggressively and covered a lot of water, but the only brief excitement came from the trout. This one hit a lure of 4.5 inches and for all of five seconds fooled us that it was a pike.



With the gales heavy by three o'clock, however, we thought it would be best to find a more sheltered spot for the next day, and so it was off to try pike fishing on the gravel pits. We had to stop on route just to stock up on supplies, get all the usual bloke stuff- beer, bacon, backy. And because Seb had forgotten to bring any kind of sleeping bag.
"Nah mate, I'll be okay," he says. I virtually have to insist on him buying a blanket. He is a tough but silly bastard sometimes.

Our spot on the pit is only reached in cover of darkness, thanks to the traffic. But it's here the adventure starts. Putting up a bivvy under the headtorch. Feeling the first bite of the wind as you bundle your gear in for the night. I'm convinced our best chance of action will be first light, but once we're set up we also put a rod out each.

I have mixed feelings about night fishing for pike. You do have to be attentive and quick off the mark. You have to stay close to your rods. Big baits also help at night, because even a large pike won't swallow them instantly. So it was a whole sardine for me, and a half lamprey for Seb. And for us, a pan of curry and some IPA.

Seb Nowosiad is hilarious. He's the sort of bloke who will open a can of beans with a machete, start singing or even drop a conspiracy theory on you, after he's had a third shot of Jagermesiter.

Even though this was our first long trip in quite a while, the camp was fairly well organised. Just as well, because the wind lashed out all night, while not very much happened. At one point we had to hold down the corners to stop the bivvy being levered up from the ground by the wind. Rough stuff, but we laughed at the madness of it and at perhaps two or three in the morning things finally calmed.

It was a little after first light that my first run arrived. The bait had been positioned on the near shoulder of a bay on the pit. It had been half an hour or so after I'd just recast a fresh bait, chopping up and ground baiting with the old one. The clip fell and the line pinged free. It kicked steady but only really felt big as it came towards the net. I'm always eager to hook them cleanly and net them quickly. But you can rush them too, especially when it looks like the biggest pike you've seen in some time.



Just a shade over seventeen pounds and beautifully proportioned. And then, for pretty much the whole morning, it was Seb's turn. The next two were good doubles- and at one point I had to help with one fish while the other rod also went off! We had brought plenty of bait too, and built up the area by repeatedly throwing in old baits and chopped pieces. It's also good practise to keep recasting baits. With a lot of weed present, it also seemed sensible to pop the baits up.



We had also tried lures at intervals and hopping swims, but in the end it was the same area that kept producing. It's not my preferred fishing style, but by sticking to one area you will certainly intercept moving fish at intervals. You'll pick up different pike at different times of the day too, as they become active and roam the pit.

It was Seb who predicted the best fish would come later, in the afternoon, and he was correct when I got a really brutal run. It almost seemed that the fish had hooked itself, such was that first rush. It seemed to take a tense age to get within range. I then saw the length of it and things became serious. Big fish!



A lovely pike, it was exceptionally long and went 22lbs 2oz. She was well behaved for a quick snap too. I do like to get into with wellies or waders these days, and hold the fish over the water for that final shot or two. You won't harm your catch at all, even if you were to drop it, and the water itself makes a nice light background.

It must have taken me a good couple of days just to properly thaw out and feel normal. I quite often sleep little- or sleep irregularly- on overnight fishing trips. But the fire is burning again, and I'll be back out soon.

Don't forget, if you enjoy my blog do look out for my angling books. Tangles with Pike has further pike fishing articles and adventures, and you can also buy it together with Crooked Lines for just £20 right now.

Floodwater Piking and Flounder on Lures

I’ve always loved unusual fishing and the sport’s capacity to spring a surprise, but even compared to my oddest adventures, my one day mission this week was bonkers. To be brutally honest I wondered whether I was on a hiding to nothing as I sped towards Dorset and saw trickling streams rendered into gruesome, muddy flows.

I was looking forward to catching up with Nathan Edgell, but fancied that even with his knack of catching specimen river pike we would need a big slice of luck, or our brains testing. Along the access path to the fishery alone, we were up to our thighs- and perilously close to that annoying leak in my waders, just around “Crown Jewels” level. And then it was tricky to see where the fields ended and the river began.



Now, I’m not going to give away the whole story in this hasty blog, but if I can give you any inkling as to how Mr Edgell catches so many pike it has nothing to do with fancy tackle or secret tactics and everything to do with his willingness to be mobile and get stuck in. He is like the Heineken of pike anglers- the one who gets to the parts others don’t reach. By which I mean he gets stuck into the bits most of us walk right past or take one look at and think “no way.”

Not only did he winkle out a pike on the day, but he did so on a lure and the fish was absolutely cracking! There’s a great article there, with some revealing dodges anyway. More to follow...



It was only later in the day when I managed one of my own. With takes at a premium, I decided to put my final efforts into an hour or two with a sardine in a tempting looking slack. I managed to trip and almost totally fall in just getting into a position where I could fish properly. Boy was it cold. I was starting to shiver when the float started to take a walk- and in a split second all discomfort was forgotten and it was just man against pike.



It was a pretty and hard-fighting fish too. It fought harder than some much larger fish I’ve caught. Nothing like as big as Nathan’s, but hey- that’s a pretty normal state of affairs for anyone who follows his exploits! I didn’t bother to weigh it, but it looked like a scraper double. It also had the top of its tail missing- perhaps an otter attack, but I couldn’t say. Perhaps one of you blog readers might be able to enlighten me? It looked well healed and the fish was fit.


I was literally shaking with cold as I left for the coast to catch up with another fishing pal I hadn’t seen in a while. I last met up with Andy Mytton on a towpath zander fishing trip (hence his appearance in my Canal Fishing book). Ever since then though, I’ve been staggered by the sheer variety of sea fish he catches on lures. Unless, like a goby, you’ve been hiding under a rock, you can’t have failed to notice how Light Rock Fishing or LRF is getting increasingly popular. And having done a lot of recent fishing with light lure gear for perch, a visit to the sea was overdue.



One species not usually associated with lure fishing had particularly piqued my interest however. Flounder are a childhood favourite that I’ve always had a soft spot for. They look almost comical, but if you are a shrimp or crab these are mass murderers. Even so, I expected it to be a tough challenge to tempt one on a lure. If anyone could help me it was Andy and his pal Ricki Hill, who are real specialists when it comes to fishing the salt with small lures.

While the river that morning had been a scene of millionaire’s houses and the Green Wellie Brigade, the Dorset town where we met was a world away. On exiting the warmth of the car I saw a rat running along a wall and the police speed past. Some poor homeless chap was hunkering down for the night in a sleeping bag and the waters looked eerie.

Again, I can’t spoil the whole surprise here, because Andy’s tactics and observations were fascinating deserve a proper article later this year, not a filleted blog entry, to do justice. But By working tiny worm style lures low and slow close to features we managed to draw the odd bite.



Ricki had just caught a little school bass when my own chance came. I’d had a suspicious pluck already, when a few casts later the little rod went bouncing over. I was instantly transported to being twelve again with a cry of “I’ve got one, I’ve got one!” And yes, it was a flounder!



I cannot quite convey just how chuffed I was with this fish. Perhaps it’s because I’ve tried and failed to catch these fish on flies. I now know it’s possible without bait though, and the fly rod will make another appearance this year- no doubt aided by Andy and Ricki’s fascinating tactics and observations on the species.

Beyond flounder there are a whole galaxy of species to target with the light gear too. Ideal for the “toy” rod I’ve enjoyed using so much for perch lately. Delightful and unusual fishing, with both a world of detail and quite specialized stuff but also perfect for big kids. Right up my street- and I can’t wait to experiment further with both tiny lures and flies this year.

Otherwise, it looks like winter might finally be here. Anything but more rain I say! I wish you tight lines in the meantime anyway and should you fancy some more reading I've also updated the Turrall Flies Blog and received another incoming report from The General that you can read here. Keep warm and be lucky!

Rough Rewards

Strange and often grim weather has been the challenge of recent fishing. Sure, you can stay in and just look out of the window with dread when the winds hit home and rivers rise. But quite often, braving rough conditions seems to result in good fishing.


To be brutally honest, I think I’ve got it wrong on quite a few days this season. I’ve chickened out in the gales and sat it out with baits. But the weather has been so mild this winter, you get the feeling that the pike are often still more willing to chase than pick up a static bait.

On slow pike fishing days, I start to think Exeter Ship Canal should be renamed Exeter Shit Canal. The rumours start to spread, about cormorants and poachers and tackle shy pike. I fished for two blanks on the trot with bait, before I got restless and tried a spot of fly fishing.

The weather looked absolutely foul that morning, as I hit the water I for first light. I could just about make the fly out as it returned to my feet. I snuck into a cramped little spot and tried the margin, just a few yards along the bank. Even the margins on these ship canals can be quite deep, so it’s important to let the fly sink and not retrieve too fast.

On this occasion, I tried a nine-weight set up and the monstrous pink fly my mate Dave West Beale calls The Gay Assassin. I’ve said it before, but pink is so underrated for pike and predator flies. It really stands out in almost any conditions. In this case I also add an obscene dose of flash too, with a generous pinch of UV tinsel such as Multiflash:



Encouraged by reasonable clarity, I had only made a couple of casts when something whacked the fly. A rush and then gone. Perhaps it hadn’t felt the hook or had some sort of prejudice against pink though, because the next take was even more savage.



Four or five pounds of lean, fit pike. And so it continued for about an hour, with four other, similar sized and smaller jacks providing plenty of hits. Pete Wilkins also joined me, putting a flatwing pike streamer through the margins and getting followed by the best we saw on the day, of perhaps seven or eight pounds, that watched with a beady eye but just wouldn’t open wide.

When the weather got really foul, Pete’s camper van also came in very handy to drink coffee, have a catch up and and discuss Exeter’s FA Cup tie with Liverpool. I think you could survive the apocalypse in this vehicle, which also provides an ideal den for Rocky, a giant, hairy and delightfully dopey Alsatian.

I’ve spent too many weeks fishing solo, if at all, of late though. Writing for a living can do that to you. So it was also pleasure to speak to the Somerset Pike Anglers’ Club lads at their January meeting and catch up with so many familiar faces. That said, I had spent Monday morning feeling a bit like a pike myself, after a hospital procedure involving a camera on a long tube and my throat. They were sporting enough to release me afterwards, but it wasn’t pleasant.

Among other topics were my use of single hooks for pike, whether it comes to fly, lure or bait fishing these days. The deadbait rig has been working a treat in fact, ideally with nice soft baits such as sardine. A lot of the drains and canals in both Devon and Somerset are muddy at present, so I do also tend to groundbait. Yes, it is a little extra bother, but I think it’s worthwhile. Rather than just getting a quick run, you can almost build the swim. This is especially worthwhile where you find spots with a lot of small fish topping, and you fancy there might be several pike. I use nothing fancy- just brown crumb and chopped fish. Works for me anyway; this was the best of three fish, at just over sixteen pounds.



Of course, pike aren't the only fish to target at this time of the year. Trout fishing continues right through the roughest weeks of winter. For any of you who enjoy fly fishing, my recent Turrall blogs are worth a look: www.turrall.com/blog/
Whatever you fish for in 2016, I wish you crooked lines and happy hunting.

Pike, Poles and Post

Hello, humbug, bloody hell and that. It's fifteen degrees and pissing it down here in Exeter, yet it's only days till Christmas. It has been an exciting but busy time for me. I've been making an absolute nuisance of myself in the local Post Office, with piles of books that make queues form and customers curse. Thanks to all of you who've bought Crooked Lines. Many of you will have to wait till Christmas itself to read it, of course! Still enough time to order for the big day, if you're quick! Do enjoy it and let me know what you think.

Balancing books, a day job and other bits can be challenging, but I also managed to grab a rare full day off in the week to head north for a spot of pike fishing on the Somerset Levels. The idea was to have a roam a couple of rivers and drains in the morning, before meeting up with Marcin Kwasniewski, a very useful lure fisherman with a surname that I'd imagine the Somerset locals have all sorts of fun with. A really good bloke anyway, who's also bailiff in Somerset, protecting his local waters from poaching.

Torrential rain had put the dampness on things a bit. You all know my mania for fly fishing, but I'm also pragmatic when it comes to pike fishing methods and do spend some time bait fishing each season. So I packed a couple of rods, some sardines and mackerel.

I tend to catch much greater numbers of pike on lures and flies than I do on dead baits, but in muddy water you sometimes need all the help you can get. I started on the West Sedgemoor Drain, which appropriately rhymes with rain. Conditions felt reasonable as I got there as it was barely light. I put a few yards between myself and the access point, before casting two dead baits out at intervals, spending little more than 20 minutes in each spot. It's a method that has served me well in the past, but today I simply could not buy a bite. I tried everything, but somehow it didn't look right. These little drains do switch on and off. Sometimes they get badly poached, or suffer from pollution or severe weather patterns. I guess that's both the joy and the gamble of fishing the Levels. Last years best fishing spots are today's duds, while elsewhere the reverse is true.


So off I went, taking one look at an even higher river, before trying another drain. This time I found better water clarity- not perfect, but better. There were immediately plenty of smaller fish showing. A really good, and cheap, predator fishing tip I can share from a few recent sessions is to take some left over bread with you. Or just buy a cheap white loaf. If you fish any water with a good head of silver fish, this can be a huge help to draw predators. You can easily mix it into ground bait on the bank too. Just pop three or four slices of bread in your landing net head and dunk into the margins. You can then just mash it up in your hands.


I quite often bait a couple of spots with a ball or two. I'll then fish elsewhere for a bit, but return after and hour or more and cast close to the feed. It works staggeringly well to draw in the tiddlers- and many of our Westcountry drains and canals have lots of small roach, skimmers and also invasive sun bleak aka "motherless minnows" in Somerset. If you can get these swarming, it creates a chain reaction. I know it's a fishing tip my good friend and fellow blogger Russ Hilton also swears by and besides groundbaiting for pike, we've also used this trick to catch big perch.

Another thing I've been doing for the past few seasons is trying single hook rigs for pike. Could these be a more pike friendly, long term alternative to treble hooks? I definitely think so. I feel that too many pike anglers don't really give single hooks a proper chance. We lose a fish or two and abruptly decide it's not for us. But if you persevere, they really do work well- or at least, I haven't noticed a big increase in fish not getting hooked or coming off.

Two things you must do, however, with single hook rigs. First, do use a large, wide gape hook (I tend to use Cat Master hooks in sizes 1 to 2/0). You must also adjust your baits a little. Chunks of lamprey or mackerel will work, but avoid big, tough baits that impair the strike. In fact, my favourite offering is sardine, which comes off easily with a firm strike, to let the hook penetrate. I also hair rig the baits on my single hook pike rigs, just to avoid losing them on the cast.

I was struggling at first but the clearer water in the second spot made me more confident. An hour in without a bite, I dropped straight onto my bread spot. Through my polarising glasses I could see little shapes turning and there was still a little white of the mashed bread on the bottom. I tossed a sardine just to the side of this and as I watched the bait flutter to the bottom, I immediately saw a decent fish move in and scoff the bait. It went nuts, but the single hook found its mark and I netted a reasonable pike without too much fuss.

What I really like about the large single hook is how perfectly it hooks fish, right in the side of the jaw- no getting fouled up with gills like small trebles. Removing the hooks from pike is so much easier with just that one single too.
The fish looked like it should go eight or so pounds with any kind of girth, but still very welcome at a lean six or so I would guess.

I tried a few different tricks on the day. Another was a small drifted roach, a method those of you who've read Tangles With Pike will know I also favour well. But it was a simple, static presentation that worked for two further jacks, both on a sardine and a single hook rig. There's a feature in it at some point, but for now suffice to say that single hooks are working well for me.

Just as the drizzle picked up, it was time for me to shift again, and drive a few miles further to meet Marcin out on the Levels. I'm going to be writing a little feature on his approach to lure fishing and life, for early 2016. We only had a couple of hours proper light, but I got some great shots and some really interesting lure fishing tips too. He catches a lot currently on little SpinMad lures- ingenious little hybrid lures with a tremendous kick and vibration. A little taste below, but watch this space for the full story.



Anyway, I wish all of my blog readers a great Christmas and hope you get some fishing in. If you've yet to treat yourself or a friend to a copy of Crooked Lines there's still a little time to order at www.dgfishing.co.uk and I promise to send all subsequent orders first class. YOu'll also find it at the evil empire of www.amazon.co.uk where it can also be bought as a £4.99 E-Book, as can Tangles With Pike
With so many of the current celebrity fishing books retailing for £25 or more, that has to represent good value. But another benefit of independent publishing is that I can keep prices affordable. Don't forget, you can also buy both of my most recent books for just £20 at www.dgfishing.co.uk

Trout and Pike Fishing in Norway

Of all the parts of Europe I’ve travelled to fish, Scandinavia always has a special pull. Followers of “Crooked Lines” or readers of “Tangles with Pike” will know about my adventures in Finland, lure and fly fishing. But this time it was Norway that drew me back, and the promise of some excellent predator fishing with my good friend Geir Sivertzen, aka "Dr Hook" because of his expertise working for Mustad.



It was to be a trip in several parts, with boats, cars, big lakes and breathtaking scenery. First we stopped in Gjovik, on the banks of Lake Mjøsa: a monster of a place at over 110km long and very deep, trolling for big, predatory trout.

We had a brilliant welcome and beers at the fishing club in Gjovik, and it was like something out of a story book. You know the one, you probably read it in Tin Tin or something. The cabin by the lake. A crammed display of lures; a huge lake trout and a pike, mounted behind glass. And best of all, I kid you not, in the cabin next-door we met the ex-captain of the local paddle steamer, sat there playing cards and drinking scotch.



I was also in the great company of Dutch angler Pim Pos, and Welsh actor and keen fisherman Julian Lewis Jones. The local beer was great too (can you believe my luck, Nordic IPA) , and we had a fine time trading stories and jokes. Julian had us in stitches with his comedy accents, while the crazy little Dutchman managed to start about six different fishing debates all at the same time.

As for the fishing, it was atmospheric stuff, covering miles of water in the late evening and watching the sun never quite seem to set. Myself and Julian hopped on a boat with Kim Vegarde Sunde. An absorbing, if sometimes slow game, trolling for big trout. But we waiting and talked and learned more of the lake.



Mjøsa has some 22 species, including the usual coarse fish (roach, perch, bream, pike) but also rarities like burbot! There are also grayling, whitefish and several others, but the most numerous small fish must be the smelt. It is these fish that form huge swarms in the upper layers of the water and provide the main diet of the trout. Unsurprisingly, slim plugs of around four inches long work well here.

The night proved a test, but well into the early hours we did find our trout. Beautifully silver and deadly they were too. Ours barely raised an eye brow at between two and four pounds.



If anything though, we were rather unlucky with the unseasonably cold and wet weather on the first couple of days on our trip. But this did give us time to relax and take a look at some other random diversions, including the world's biggest fishing hook (outside the Mustad HQ) and even a cute little crucian carp pond that I tried with Julian:





Our next adventures took us on a whistlestop tour of two other lakes, where pike were the target. We battled lashing winds, rain and minor disasters including a buggered up outboard motor for the next couple of days- but also some fantastically wild pike fishing. When you have such a huge amount of water and so few pike anglers, the potential is huge!

For the lowdown on tackling these lakes, you can read a more extended account in the Angling Times soon- but suffice to say they are both a challenge and pike anglers dream. Searching tactics worked, casting lures most often, although I also fished the fly.

We fished both Lake Steinsfjorden (lots of islands and numerous pike) plus Krøderen (deeper and more challenging, but the pike often average ten pounds and grow into the thirties!). Some of the lakes have shallow areas where you can cast and rove for smaller but more numerous pike, but often the secret of finding the quality is to look for the drop offs, where the depth plummets from a couple of metres, to much deeper. A fish finder is also a plus if you can get hold of one.



We saved the best right till last as it happened our trip, with this lovely long pike on the final day:


It was a fantastic, testing, unpredictable trip, and we also learned many other lessons:

-The national food of Norway is not herrings but hotdogs
-Norway's best beer is called Aass
-Never trust an outboard motor.
-Never trust a Dutchman with a Norwegian TV presenter



I should also give a kind mention and a link to the good folks who put us up (and put up with us!) for our stay- because the hospitality of Norway is legendary.



The country might have a reputation for being a little expensive, but it needn’t be. For a family or small group, there are some superb self-catering lets and in both the following places boat hire is readily available too. You can also readily get to most locations by bus in Norway, right from Oslo Airport:

Bjertnes Lodges: (above) Delightful wooden lodges, right on the banks of Lake Krøderen. The clear, cold water makes it ideal for summer pike fishing. Boat hire also available if you book in advance. www.bjertnes.com


Utvika Camping and Lodges: Just 40 minutes from Oslo by car or bus, this lakeside campsite has both tents and cosy self-catering lets. They have boats to hire and the nearby Lake Steinsfjorden (a part of Tyrifjorden, right by the campsite) has a great head of pike, perch, trout and other species. www.utvika.no

Other useful resources for a real wealth of fishing are available at www.visitnorway.com and en.gjovik.com

Capital fly fishing and Coventry zander

There are few things I like better than a fishing styled road trip. Great fun but also a necessity if you live in one of England's more obscure corners. These missions tend to begin with a list of postcodes and a lot of random supplies. I don't so much try for two birds with one stone, but aim at half the flock.

First priority on my list this time was to track down Garrett Fallon, the plucky Irish writer and creative brains behind the exciting new quarterly title Fallon's Angler (which has a great new site where you can get a preview and order: fallonsangler.net).

What is the best part of being involved in books and publications? I think opening a box of newly produced material, with that wonderful smell of fresh print, has to be close to the top. You don't get that from an e-zine. Issue one looks fantastic. But even more importantly, it's a bloody treat to read the stories (you remember, those old fashioned things called "words" that sometimes distract you from the adverts and pictures of blokes with fish?).

A day on Walthamstow Reservoirs seemed the perfect way to celebrate the launch and we had pike in mind. A roving session took us all around the upper complex of Higher and Lower Maynard at first. We chopped and changed swims, lures and flies, having a good walk and comparing notes. The place looked so pikey that even without early bites, there was a keen anticipation in searching around cover and imagining what might suddenly dash out at any given second.

Also in fine condition was the Coppermill Stream (above). It looked clear, beautiful and for much of the way devoid of any living thing. That said, we did spot some thick-shouldered carp and one hulking great barbel. Like two skint shoppers, I think we agreed that there is a certain pleasure in admiring the goods through a window, even if you don't have the hard currency to make any purchase.

The current state of fishing literature, future plans and what exactly those bloody pike were playing at all made for some lively dialogue over a pint at lunchtime. The pike of past stories made up for a lack of action, including a monster Irish fish for Garrett that was played over thirty five minutes involving a broom handle rod, a broken reel and screaming runs along a sandy shore. But if you want more tales on pike and other topics you'll just have to buy a copy of Fallon's Angler.

After lunch we rallied our spirits for a crack at Reservoirs one and two, with Garrett bravely opting to have a crack at fly fishing for pike. After a bush or two, the perch pattern I'd lent him found the water with more and more regularity, but the pike were still not impressed. I would love to relate how his rod suddenly became possessed with a ten pounder, but it was not to be. Perhaps our Indian Summer had put too much warmth and greenish bloom in the water. Anglers write things off too quickly at times though and I think in a month or two these reservoirs will be well worth a shot for pike.


The saving grace was in fact a quick change of plan. With fly rods already set up, we decided a crack at the trout was a must (a good ploy at Walthamstow Reservoirs, because a two-fish ticket can quickly be grabbed: Further fishery info HERE). It had started as we spotted some nice rainbows cruising around close to the bank on reservoir No. 5. I took one look at my big pike flies and wondered how we would get any joy. The answer, I have to admit, came from my own messiness and multiple pockets. As A.A. Milne put it "The beauty of being disorganised is that one is always making surprising discoveries". In this case, my fly vest produced two buzzers, a Hare's Ear and two scruffy little trout lures.
Only after ditching the thick fluorocarbon would the trout launch an attack. With a slowish, jerky retrieve I got that first gratifying whack on the fly line. Trout number one came off, but the next assault came good with a decent rainbow.

When you've been fishless all day, the simple joy of something kicking on the line cannot be understated. And with fish swirling on the surface and even leaping clear, I was sure we would strike again soon. I added another before Garrett struck into a nice fish:

As enjoyable as it had been to have a very sociable ramble around the lakes, those rainbows were very, very welcome after our tough start.
Less welcome was the traffic I encountered on what was meant to be a two hour journey to Coventry to load in for the PAC Convention. Listening to Jack Kerouac's "On the Road" on cassette made the journey just about bearable, although there is a certain painful irony in hearing tales of open roads and mountains as you watch the arse of some dull people carrier while tail to tail in midlands traffic. I arrived in the nick of time to deliver a cargo of books, t-shirts and other stuff, including a whole shoal of pike flies:

Always a fun event, the show was as friendly as ever and a great chance to run into old mates and share some goings on. But what I was really looking forward to was a crack at the Coventry Canal with Jeff Hatt. Staying at his gaff, we discussed the current fishing world as eight cocker spaniel puppies played tug of war with shoe laces and each other.
For those unfamiliar with Jeff's "Idler's Quest" blog, the guy is funny, always original and invariably worth reading. He's also a contributor to the first Fallon's Angler with similar hopes and fears about the current state of fishing to my own as it turned out.

Perhaps the best place to mull things over was on a trip to the local towpath in search of zander. An eye-opening jaunt it was too. And while I must save much of the meat and bones for a proper feature, there were some key lessons to note. Firstly, that float fishing is excellent for the species. Jeff's home made wagglers beat my feeder set up hands down. Unless action was forthcoming we spent no more than fifteen minutes in each spot, using roach sections on some really big hooks. I was amazed at the size of these size 1 or so wide gapes- they looked crude, but by God did they work well for hooking the fish. Far better than my smaller versions, which produced mostly thin air on the strike.

Perhaps I should have taken a leaf from his book in fact, because I just couldn't get amongst them. In my impatience, I kept trying the fly rod with jig style artificials, but other than a small perch and a lost zander it never quite happened for me.

Meanwhile, the self-styled Chris Yates of Coventry kept up a decent strike rate. In spite of pressure here and the inevitable Eastern Europeans stealing fish to eat (some of these people need eating themselves), the zander seem to be doing pretty well.

I could never tire of exploring canals such as the "Cov". There are all sorts of species and stories present, and the day was great fun. And what better place to put the world to rights than at a classic looking waterside boozer where you can enjoy a pint while still actually fishing? In between sips of bitter I managed to hook and lose my third zander of the day. It might have been rather bad luck, but the next time I'm here, I'm definitely going for a large single hook and a float set up.

I believe the biggest crime of all is that Jeff has yet to be commissioned for a properly paid regular column or book deal, in spite of producing much better writing and having attracted arguably more readers (some 15,000 a month in previous times) than many of the monthly fishing magazines.

But here's the rub: stacks of people have enjoyed Jeff's blog, but if he doesn't get paid a penny for creating it, could you really expect any writer worthy of the name to keep the words coming? Unsurprisingly, his output has slowed right down. My own present dilemma is similar: I really enjoy writing about fishing, it is my first love in fact. But I can make twice the wage in half the time in my present role writing copy on tourism and other subjects.

Nevertheless, I believe that things can and will change. The sales of many titles are falling badly as their corporate masters tie editors' hands and neglect the single most important commodity of all: well-written, original stories about fishing. In the end it will be the independents who win as readers get bored of sponsored drivel and repetitive, poor writing. In any profession though, the only way to beat mediocrity is to reward those who produce good work.

Surviving Llangorse

A long leap from recent drain hopping days, Llangorse Lake in south Wales is a beast of a water. A test of not only tackle and tactics, but resolve and wet weather gear. When the bites arrive here, you sense that anything might happen; during other long, fruitless hours spent bobbing around in the drizzle it can suck the very marrow out of you. Like the lakes of Ireland, the only consistent feature here seems to be rain.

Still weed choked around the edges, myself and Seb Nowosiad made our way around the drop offs, daydreaming about monsters. After a little jack that took a spoon on perhaps only my fifth cast of the day, things were decidedly slow. In the course of two days we seemingly tried every trick in the book to earn takes: lures and flies, static and trolled baits, herrings and roach. In the green tinged water I even tried some brightly dyed baits to eke out a response.


Even the purist would be well advised to take a fish finder on a Llangorse adventure. The place feels like an endless chasm of nothing-much-in-particular when the action is slow, but gradually we found that the pockets of fish seemed to favour those banks quickly dropping away to three or four metres. Predictably enough, one of Seb's Kopyto shads was eventually mauled by a gold dashed seven pounder.

The sky had been threatening a bit of a punch up for a while, and once we'd set up camp for the night the rain came- and the drizzle never stopped from then until we left. Planning our counter attack we kept our hopes up with cups of brandy spiked "pirate tea" and dodgy jokes. In the morning light you could hardly make out the hills, and by lunch we were sodden, grudgingly accepting that damp feeling like you're sitting on a pile of used tea bags.
Eventually we also found something of a hot spot, with several takes to float fished roach and something big which shook its head and parted company with my lure. Still, when you've been wiping rain off your face all day any fish feels like a gift and we added another four pike, all in the five to six pound bracket.
The other great spectacle was a swarm of several thousand starlings wheeling overhead. This was absolutely fantastic, until they flew right over the boat and discharged an almighty volley of bird shit all over the water. By pure fluke, neither of us was hit. Great sight all the same, to cap off a testing trip. Sadly my top notch camera was kept out of the drizzle in the safety of the car for this spectacle, but I did get a nice shot of one of the lake's rocket powered pike giving Seb the runaround: