Tackle Reviews & Blanking Blues

How often do you read a fishing article about somebody blanking? Not very often, I would bet. With getting on for 250 articles in print, I've only managed to succeed in getting ONE published. It's an article I won't ever forget, because despite the frustration endured I got one of those shots that perfectly captures the madness of angling, with a grey mullet swimming literally right round the back of the fishless angler, coming within inches of his wading boots.



This past week though, the joke has been on me. Most recently with a whole night and a beautifully misty morning (above) which, although nice to look at, I would have gladly traded for the carp I was after. I'm not about to tell you that I love catching nothing, but as a long term addict of fishing you learn to accept this.

Think about it for a minute and contrary to the idea that top anglers never blank, the reverse is often true- certainly where the biggest fish are concerned. And yes, a few chastening experiences each season add extra sweetness to those days when your luck turns.

Another thing you learn to accept is that you don't always get the performance that you paid for at the booking office. And in truth, whether or not you are grateful for what you actually get depends on your outlook as much as anything else. Like the moment your rod is nearly yanked in and the huge carp in your imagination transforms into a three pound tench, as happened on my other not-entirely-successful recent trip to a small, private lake. Most of the time, I would prefer to see the pond as half full rather than half empty I guess? Tench are like perch for me- even if it was a fluke, it is virtually impossible not to be pleased to catch one.



Win, lose or play out a goalless draw that spills over into a pointless spell of extra time watched by nobody where there is no referee to call time, that is fishing. So perhaps I should continue this blog on another note. In fact, I wanted to cover something I very rarely mention here at all: my favourite items of tackle! Other bloggers write whole entries on rods, reels and rigs; I do not. Perhaps I'm too cynical about the tackle trade and the world of sponsored shenanigans. But I know that some readers do find it interesting, so I thought this week I would give you a few recommendations of the kit I have enjoyed recently, or for a longer spell of abuse. It's something to talk about while I remain biteless, anyway. So here goes:

1. Spro Micro Game Rod (70M)
So many rods exist these days, but this is the first I have bought for several years. After a few months I have taken it everywhere from Devon harbours to Amsterdam. It packs down into an absolutely silly length (38cm) and still performs really nicely. Hook an eight ounce perch and it bends like it shouldn't; hook an eight pound pike and, amazingly, it still survives without smashing to bits. I'd call that a very dependable light rod. My model is rated 5-15g, but this is way out. It feels right at home with 3g jigs, or my various dropshotting experiments with small jellies and flies. What can I say? I love this little rod, even if it is almost unbefitting of a large bearded man.




2. Lone Angler Unhooking Mat/ Stalker Seat
What a brilliant little piece of kit this is! So portable, great to sit on too, but also very functional. Folds into three and slides into the back pocket of my fly vest, yet big enough to protect a barbel or zander. Not quite pike size, but you can't have everything- and this is a great compromise for fishing small waters for fish like perch and chub when you don't want to be lugging a vast mat around. Could also save you from the horrors of "Farmer Giles" on the derriere.

3. Daiwa LRF Net Handle 5.9m

Another cracking piece of kit for the roving angler, why didn't someone come up with this years ago?!! Totally portable, it folds down neatly to some 70cm odd and has a shoulder strap. Yet when you need it, you have a whopping 6m, or near enough, of reach! I particularly like the fact that a net head can be attached through the bung, which prevents all the sections from sliding out willy-nilly when you don't want them to.


So bloody useful! I'm already making a hitlist of spots such as harbour walls that this net will now allow me to land fish from, where previously I wouldn't have dared. Ruddy useful kit!

4. Turrall Barbless River Flies


Ok, so I like to tie my own flies where possible. Time is a killer these days though, so it is extremely darned useful to have reliable patterns tied properly on barbless hooks that look and fish the part. After all, so many cheap barbless river flies feature rubbishly cheap hooks and are sold more overdressed than Lady Gaga (and just as tasteless). Not these designs, personally selected by Chris Ogborne with a competition angler's eye for detail. Granted, I am one of the Turrall team these days, but I like these so much I've been fishing them all season and now also stock them in my own shop HERE. Do grab a set before I use them all myself!

5. Orvis Forceps

Ok, so this is not a new tackle accessory by any stretch. When you own an item for the best part of ten years, however, and it's still going strong you know you're onto something good. These are top drawer, meriting that "reassuringly expensive" Orvis price tag, I must say- and I'm pretty attached to mine. Literally- they never leave my fly vest. Not just great for removing the hooks from fish, they are also good at debarbing flies while that little spike is genius- just the thing for clearing the eye of a fly when you're struggling to pass the leader through. Damned near indispensable in my book.

Ok, that is about as techy and tackle orientated as I'm about to get for a while. Now go and fish. Heck, do one better than me and actually CATCH SOMETHING!

Sunburned Glory

This latest blog instalment comes with a slight health warning. This might be England and it might be decidedly cold when you load the car at 5 in the morning. But that's no excuse not to pack some sun screen. It's a lesson I learned the hard way as I was slowly toasted.
A session at Linhay Pond, on the Rackerhayes complex, began in idyllic style however. Cool mist and the odd rolling fish. It wasn't so much the sun, but the great depths of the lake that I had anticipated being the crux of the challenge.

The pole is one obvious way, but for me it was an excellent excuse to dig out the 15ft Hardy Marksman float rod- a great weapon where the bottom plummets away alarmingly quickly. I was joined by Russ Hilton, who reckoned the tench would be patrolling just where the weed stopped and the margin dropped to a good 8-10 feet. And as tends to be the case, the bugger was correct! I put in four balls of ground bait laced with chopped worm and caster and it didn't take long for the wrestling to begin:

Sport wasn't exactly rapid, but bloody hell do tench fight well. And in the gaps, Russ also caught plenty on the whip, while I slowly got frazzled. I could have posted up a picture of my sorry, red, sweaty shoulders, but instead here's a random photo of a bee:

Was it worth it all in the end? I'm tempted to say yes, because the tench were beautiful. Not small by Devon standards either. Perhaps the whole tench fishing scene has been crashed by fat gravel pit fish that grow enormous- but in the Westcountry, a fish of six pounds is still pretty respectable, not to mention beautiful. This was the best of three:

The session was very much a case of quality rather than quantity. Would we have got more bites fishing lighter? I can't say, but with hooklengths of 5-6lbs, you're much safer. A size 16 hook and a worm and caster cocktail was by far the best bait on the day.
The idea was that I was to return home looking like a Greek. The reality was more like a lobster. Joking aside, do be warned- the sun is no laughing matter and when you're enjoying your fishing it's incredibly easy to forget about protection.
My next trip by waters was without the rod, but this time with plenty of sun block. I had a wonderful walk with Paulina to Ladram Bay in fact, where I took the picture below. It was a really lovely scene: the youngster and his dad approached the old angler and no doubt he was asked all those sorts of questions that six year olds are so excellent at randomly coming up with:


I'm also in the process of answering some of met own questions with the arrival of a rather novel book this week from my good friend the angler and conservationist Theo Pike. "The Pocket Guide to Balsam Bashing and How to Tackle Other Non-native Species" is a fascinating if alarming read. Documenting all manner of undesirables from mink and crayfish to horrible, alien plants this pocket sized guide makes eye-opening reading. Most importantly of all though, it also explains how you can do your bit to stem the tide of these unwanted blighters, whether that means reporting, cutting down or even dispatching with boot or bullet. Perhaps those which I particularly hate the most are Himalayan Balsam (which is everywhere these days) and the dreaded mink (the main reason I haven't seen a water vole for over a decade). I took the shot below as a bit of a joke- but the issue of invasive species is very serious. The most important weapon is not a gun, but knowledge, which is why Theo's book could be extremely important.

Spring blues, bronzes and greens

The best place to wax lyrical about the "glorious unpredictability" of fishing is the pub, I'm starting to believe, as opposed to a chilly waterside where you sit there perplexed as to why sport is slow. Lately I seem to be putting in about double the effort to make any passable catches. And although taking a bit of a piscatorial kicking can be educational, I'm still longing for that day of effortless enjoyment to mark a new summer. Still, the tench have been conspicuously bubbling and rolling- as the dawn picture above shows.

The anglers have been somewhat better company than the fish and I particularly enjoyed sitting alongside Dave Sellick (above) to see how he gets to grips with tench on the Exeter Canal. One factor is his skill as a pole fisherman. Another is his adaptability- with the water level well down on our trip, he knew instantly that the fish would be further out in the safety of deeper water. His other secret weapon is his bicycle and trailer to reach remote spots. He took a cracking net of tench and bream, while stopping quickly to become "Bicycle Repair Man" (anyone remember the Monty Python sketch?) and sort a puncture:


I managed two decent bream in the end, but only by fishing at maximum reach with my 13m pole. I also took a tip off Dave to try his favourite hook bait. All the old angling books tell you dead maggots are only useful for eels, but they are a great bait for tench and bream too. The beauty of dead grubs is that they stay put. They're easy for any self respecting bream or tench to suck in and won't wriggle into weed or silt. "Three dead red" is Dave's mantra. It's probably the only hook bait you need for these bonus fish.

A long way further down the road, I also had the pleasure of an escape to Norfolk to meet with Bob James. The mere we fished was absolutely to die for in terms of setting, but also proved a real challenge.

With northerly winds and distinctly chilly evenings, my night fishing for carp drew a big fat blank. A shame, because the odd fish we spotted looked solid and beautiful things. Night fishing for me is one of the great undescribed areas of angling. It can be a murky, dense and thrilling experience; or something more akin to psychological warfare over cold biteless nights. Why is it that most angling writers say so little about it? Perhaps they lack the bravery to describe the despondency of insomnia and inevitable blanks, while the successes are reduced to statements like "I was over the moon" "it was scale perfect" etc, etc. It's a bit like when you see the winning goal scorer interviewed on cup final day who says "I've hit it first time and luckily it's gone in the back of the net." Why do they never say: "I absolutely lashed it into the goal. It nearly ripped the bloody net out. I thought my heart would explode!" Answers on a bream.
No sudden explosion of joy for me on this trip where the carp were concerned. Thank goodness for other species in fact, because otherwise it would have been a very long trip for not a great deal. The mere I fished with Bob was delightfully peaceful, with kingfishers, owls and a staggering amount of insect life. I also caught this slow worm relaxing by the path:

Bob's little terrier Cassie also noticed the rustling in the grass, and is popular with the land owner for her skill at removing moles. A safer quarry than the badgers she also likes to pester in any case:
The tench were especially receptive in the morning. Bob uses little else for them than 10mm boilies and pellets these days, with liberal helpings of groundbait to prime an area. In fact, it wasn't exactly Mr Crabtree tenching. He favours fairly deep areas rather than directly in those tempting looking margins, as the tench can then be persuaded to extend their feeding well into the late morning.
We also had a try for bream and I put my "Bait Factory" testers hat on once again to lay down a good bed of feed. You might have had to force me at gunpoint to use a spomb and introduce lashings of particles not so long ago, but I'm beginning to see the value of accurate, fairly heavy baiting these days.

I don't know what it is about bream, but as with pike they just seem to agree with me. And unless it happens to be three in the morning I'm always happy to catch them. I even like the rather sleepy, ponderous way they fight on light tackle.

Bonus Time

Fishing is always such a subjective pastime as far as results are concerned. Weights, for example, are such a relative and often poor measurement of enjoyment. Would you rather catch a stack of fish from a heavily stocked water, for example, or a hard earned net of more realistic specimens from somewhere fairly wild? Canals are a point in case- unpredictable, fascinating places where it still represents some kind of achievement to winkle out a nice bag of fish. Russ Hilton, another big fan of more traditional waters, would no doubt agree. I had intended to take him fly fishing, but we decided to drop onto the Grand Western Canal for the morning first. We tackled up with bonus fish in mind, with relatively cute tackle and baits like caster, worm and hemp on the menu. Russ decided to use the pole, I went for a light waggler outfit. Sport was hardly hectic, but by feeding regular little helpings of bait several nice bonuses came our way. I usually feed a maggot line to keep me out of mischief, while letting a "bonus" line settle further out with regular doses of caster and chop. After some fun with small rudd down the middle, I was instantly rewarded casting a worm over my far bank line: I'm wondering if we should have weighed this perch in fact- it hardly matters, but it was a cracking fish for a little canal. Surprisingly the bite was quite slow and shy. It seemed to be worm that the better fish wanted, although it was such a cold start the swim had to be coaxed to life carefully rather than bombarded with bait. Russ was next to strike with a tench, also to worm. I wouldn't call it a red letter morning of fishing, but it was great fun and a typical slice of canal sport. The odd local chatterbox, twitchy rudd bites and some bugger's dog jumping in to finish off a swim that was already waning by midday. Bringing up the keepnet, I perhaps had a few more fish than I thought, not masses of bites but what was there was good quality. After an all day breakfast and a strong coffee to wake us up again, the second half of the day was spent fly fishing on the Lowman. A good decision it seemed, because after a quick casting lesson for Russ, we spotted several wily little trout and even some hatching olives. It's always a great pleasure to introduce another angler to something you enjoy so much yourself, and in no time Russ was pitching a dry fly into little runs and pools. A Beacon Beige or Klinkhamer brought them up a treat for some lively takes on the top and a stack of lively little trout, along with missed bites and the odd bit of tree. It took me right back to last season in fact, and my trip with urban fishing fanatic Theo Pike. The same spots were just as alive with trout and, lo and behold, the shopping trolley that features on my cover shot for Theo's new book is still exactly where it was before! With several entries on Devon waters, "Trout in Dirty Places" comes highly recommended for any of you looking for low cost (or no cost!) fly fishing.