Treading Waters

Fishing is the greatest pastime of all when it comes to following up a million mysterious leads. There simply aren't enough days in the year to follow up on every hunch you have or water you'd like to explore. However, I like to have a bloody good go! There is so much more fishing out there than you ever read about. If anything, the growth of blogging and web articles have heralded a more varied and open version of the sport, rather than mainstream articles which often confuse catching big fish with interesting fishing. In the midst of the copy I provide magazines, my own blog represents possibly my least polished writing- but you will find some of the more interesting subplots and smaller stones turned over.

This week I got back to some bass in the esteemed company of David Pilkington and Ben Garnett. For David it was a welcome day off from his guiding- for Ben it seemed like something of a field trip. For those who don't know my brother, Ben is very much a "wild fish in wild places" angler and is a dedicated natural scientist. A fanatic. This is the reprobate who culled the brighter coloured goldfish in my folks' pond because they "weren't natural enough". You couldn't say the same about bass in a million years.
With dodgy weather ruling out the open coast, we headed for an estuary mark. David has been increasingly drawn to bass for the past few seasons, which provide another angle to his guiding. Conditions were wretchedly windy, but that didn't dampen our enthusiasm and several gutsy school bass came our way- some of them more like Kindergarten than school bass! Just to get the line out and catch something seemed like a result on a day better suited to kite surfing. Nevertheless, for anyone looking to explore bass on the fly I wouldn't hesitate to give Dave a call (see the Arundell Arms link on my site, or google it). I can't give away our specific location, but if anyone can put you on the bass, it's Dave.


In the meantime I continue to be fascinated by our canals. Bigger adventures are all well and good, but I just love the diversity of species and methods on these little waters. Joining me for a very early Sunday service on the Taunton to Bridgwater canal was Seb Nowosiad. We fished flies, lures and baits at different times to enjoy a really varied day of sport. I also like these places simply because they are so beautiful. With rows of tall trees and pretty, lily dotted water you could easily think you were in rural France- until the bloody rain sets in.

Not easy fishing on this occasion, but a different possibility at every turn. I had roach and rudd on the fly, Seb had perch, pike and a terrific 3lb plus chub on a lure. We saw several others, which were amazingly spooky- nevertheless, they are clearly catchable provided you don't scare them first.

Gathering Flies

I always love a quiet hour or two at the vice tying some flies. Lately it has felt more like a week or two of solid work however, with some 60 or more patterns on the go for both a book project and also material for an American magazine feature on "The Perfect 10 British Trout Flies"- a great honour if something of a nightmare narrowing down centuries of great flies into a mere ten classics! So where do we start? Those who have never tied a fly of any kind might take heart from the Black & Peacock- which consists of thread, peacock herl and black hen... and that's it! Bloody good for trout but also useful for coarse fish:

I also have a liking for traditional stalwarts, and for anyone suspicious of passing angling fads, the March Brown has been catching trout for some 500 years!

Turning out flies to a publishable standard is always a great challenge. With a quality macro lens (Nikons are used for micro surgery, such is their quality!) every little fault shows up. The messier results fill my fly boxes- only the best go to the publishers! It's a bit like a ruthless modelling audition- you pick and preen the best little buggers to look spot on... and the slightly fat or scruffy ones are asked to leave. After several attempts, here is my version of Richard Walker's classic Hanningfield Lure- it was designed for trout, but Walker found it even deadlier for perch, the jointed effect giving it extra wiggle:


The range of flies and materials is truly vast. This week I've used everything from partridge feathers to strips cut from a Doritos packet in this little buzzer:

The fussy flies can drive you to madness, which is why I always welcome some meaty predator patterns into the mix. And who says pike flies can't be pretty (before they get bitten, obviously!). Here are a pair of poppers, I paint the bodies by hand:

June has thus been a mixed blessing with all the rain I guess- at least you don't feel like you're missing much by spending hours tying up flies when outdoors looks less than appetising. For those less than keen on tying their own flies I am always willing to consider any requirements you may have too. And unlike the shops with their imports I can always produce patterns for less fashonable species- from roach and rudd, to perch and zander.

Rudd rising

What brilliant summer fish rudd are. Sadly less widespread these days, in part due to fisheries and clubs that insist on chopping back all forms of vegetation, their pursuit is always an adventure. In the past weeks I've walked many miles in search of visible fish, skirting little ponds and walking the banks of rural canals. And worth every step. These fish will gamely take a fly and the warmer the weather gets, the more they seem willing to rise to dry flies. Part of the thrill is the sheer lack of any track record- the few anglers with any interest fish with bait for them.

If anything, fly fishing seems more selective than maggots or bread, which get clobbered by the tiddlers before that chunky mother has even taken notice. Finding clear water in which you can target specific fish is often the real battle. Boat traffic is bad news and with the better fish seeming quite spread out I'm getting used to making early starts and really covering the banks. It's a bit like cooking a special dish; several key ingredients have to be in place, but when it all comes together it's a right bloody treat. Forget muddy water and bite indicators- nothing beats tricking visible fish in clear water. Roach have been active too, and the real surprise is just how aggressive the fish have been of late. The same creatures that were cagey buggers in the cooler months will now really hammer a fly. A little while back I was catching on tiny, size 16 and 18 buzzers and spiders. Yesterday a size 10 seemed better, with the fish chasing and hitting a dark nymph with an almost predatory verve. Best fish of a thrilling session was this 1lb 9oz roach- or is it a roach/rudd hybrid? Perhaps somebody can tell me- internet research tends to yield a pretty haywire bag of truths, half truths and pure fiction!

The other great aspect of the week has been fishing in good company. I was due to fish for tench with Ian Nadin, but with these fish spawning we quickly switched to silver fish and he managed roach, rudd, perch and even a skimmer, all on his first fly rod session for silver fish. Also travelling light with me has been Russ Hilton. On a piece of breadflake he took the shock catch of the week with a cracking chub of 3lb 7oz! We'd seen little chublets before on the Taunton to Bridgwater canal but this was a genuine surprise. The grin was even wider because I managed to miss it two hours before on the fly, a hasty strike pulling my hopper straight out of its gob!

Dirty Towns & Wild Browns

The search for exciting, interesting fishing takes us to some wild, unspoiled places. It also takes us to some crusty, bizarre locations. I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that unlikely fishing is often good fishing. The trout in and around the Exe and Lowman in Tiverton are a prime example. Grubby surroundings, yes. But even the shadow of recent pollution doesn't seem to have killed a surprisingly rich environment. Visiting angling scribe Theo Pike has a particular interest in these urban gems, having taken an active role in restoring the River Wandle close to his own home in London. Visiting family in Devon, it seemed the perfect opportunity to have a crack at some similarly townie trout. It was nice not to be the only nutter walking about town with a fly rod anyway. Judging by a few kick samples, you could hardly call these urban waters infertile:

We found the trout highly receptive. The only bother they usually get here is an occasional misplaced clearance from the football pitches, or the odd rusty spinner or beer bottle. Appearances can be so deceptive though. Reminds me of some advise my dad once gave me- "never pick a fight with an ugly person..?." No, it was something about judging books by covers. And this particular book, is such a world away from its rather shoddy cover. Amidst the usual debris and a staggering four shopping trolleys and a drowning flat screen TV we picked our way through a series of curious little pools and runs. Theo opted for miniature sedge patterns in 16s to extract some lovely brown trout, looking every inch wild. Most were in the small but pretty stamp, although one or two really took us by surprise.

Are urban trout any different to those of more idyllic places? It seems that they are well used to the odd passer by, so perhaps spook less easily- or at least take less time to settle again after a misplaced cast. It was a week of urban fishing in fact, with some rudd, bleak, chub, a skimmer and even a lost tench on the Bridgwater stretch of canal.

All good fun then. Not the most peaceful fishing exactly, but there's always a curious excitement about catching fish from places where it doesn't look possible. I even managed to produce a trout simultaneously as a passing chav issued the classic "you won't catch nothing in there" line. I was about to point out that this was grammatically incorrect, but didn't want a punch in the face and the fish seemed a decent enough reply. I guess that the moral of the tale is not to judge the fishing by the scenery then. In fact, a strange setting only adds to interesting fishing. My favourite snap shot from a few erm, "vibrant", urban locations has to be this one however, Theo Pike trying to spot rising fish beneath the hulking mechanical arm of a neighbouring scrapyard. It's fly fishing Jim, but not as we know it:

A Week of Carp

Perhaps due to their sheer popularity there is an anti-carp current within some fishing circles. I love the species- it's the methods and condition of the fish that don't always inspire. Hence a big push this week to explore some different venues with methods high on excitement this week, from fly fishing to free-lining baits in the margins.

Abbrook Pond (above), run by Exeter Angling Association, is definitely what you'd call a classic, "old school" carp lake. Once visited by Dick Walker, it might be noisier these days with a local quarry and even the racket of a punk band's rehearsal at one point- but when all settles down, what a beautiful place. As per usual, I tried both old and new methods but found free lined or float fished baits by far the most effective. Sometimes I wonder if the modern era has gone bite alarm and static fishing mad. Each to their own, but it's so much more effective as well as more fun to use lighter tackle and be mobile. I lost a decent something on an overnighter, only to grab a beautiful common on float fished bread paste next morning. Nothing to write home about at eleven pounds? Not in my book- perfectly conditioned and ridiculously strong on a float rod.

The weeks other kicks have been on a fly rod, with the added pressure of fellow angling writer and film maker Steve Lockett on camera at Stafford Moor. The fish needed some coaxing, but eventually got going in the sun and gave a pulverising display on a fly rod. With the exception of one mirror taken on a terrestrial, the key on the day was regular loose feed in the right spot.

To cap off a fun week of carp I also took an evening ticket at Creedy lakes for some further action. Fewer but bigger fish here- and after seeing several good sized cruising fish on the top pond, I tempted a solid common on a good sized dry fly. Not a "bait" fly this time, but a nice bushy stimulator presented by overhanging cover. A fly that looks a little big and clumsy- until you see the size of a decent carp's laughing gear close on it! On an seven weight outfit the fight was nothing short of sensational another good reason to give this enthralling method a try.

The Mild West

Throw together a four weight fly rod, sunny water and even the odd mayfly and you might guess I'd been on a trout stream this week. Not by a long chalk- but in their own strange way, the canals around Tiverton and Bridgwater can be just as cute. No trout here of course, but plenty of pretty rudd and roach to divert an angler torn between fly and coarse schools. The Taunton to Bridgwater fished in fits and starts, between boat traffic which sadly robbed the water of its clarity. I had called Somerset Angling to see how the cut was fishing and when I asked if the water was clear, the response was classic- "no mate, it's always dirty. This is Bridgwater."

Never mind. The rudd were still rising and the canal showed the sort of mad, burgeoning insect life that would have David Bellamy himself frothing at the mouth- although I wouldn't advise any "wummaging through the undergrowth" around the wrong end of Bridgwater. Swarms of black gnats were everywhere- and the rudd were sipping at the top. Most of my success came to small emerger buzzers in size 16's and 18's. I like these "no hackle" flies because they're easily sucked in- stiffer hackled traditionals can simply bounce off the lips of Mr Rudd.
It was an afternoon of fleeting spells of pleasure- interrupted by churning boats and grey clouds. And yet when it was good it was very good. When the sun remerged and the water settled, it was like someone turning a light on- suddenly visible rudd everywhere. On two occasions I got a double shot of rudd on a single cast by fishing 2-3 little buzzers- like these two beauties:

I couldn't resist a stop on the Grand Western on the way home either- which was clearer, but the roach were trickier to tempt in spite of being miles easier to spot. A small f-fly accounted for a couple of solid roach though, and it still seems to me that whilst pike are now par for the course on a fly rod there is a great deal of totally unexploited fishing for roach, rudd and other species. What beautiful fish and beautiful places these are too, the banks already awash with summer growth and life of all kinds. The flag iris with its brilliant yellow flowers is always a summer favourite:

Scales, Spots & Sunshine

If fishing were about beauty rather than size, we'd all be having very different debates about the "perfect" fish. But would your vote go to a stocked or wild fish? Fishing for carp at Angler's Paradise I found my usual assumptions turned upside down after catching some stunning looking fish- not big, but the most incredible pearl gold coloured mirrors. The name "Fatboys" lake perhaps does a disservice to these perfectly proportioned carp which fairly glow in the sun.

The Angler's Nirvana section of the complex was as quiet as a mouse for our visit- a dead mouse perhaps, judging by the evidence we found on the bank! Last spring I was taken aback by the sheer beauty of a circling barn owl on the lush, grassy banks here- this time no owl, but plenty of evidence in the form of owl pellets:

Aside from some fun fishing, we had curry and a glass or three of wine at Zyg Gregorek's famous bar. It was also a good chance to bring my other half, Jo, back on the bank after a long absence. Predictably she caught the best fish- and lost a much bigger one too. Check out the links on my site for more on Angler's Paradise.


As for Devon's wild trout, the fishing has been surprisingly tricky on the streams. A bone dry April meant low river levels and not a great deal hatching on a visit to the South Yeo, part of the Westcountry Angling Passport scheme.

It proved to be a real hands and knees job. Beetles were the only creatures notable by their abundance, with occasional splashy rises telling their own story under the gnarled branches and undercut banks.

Having lost a decent fish, I managed a few smaller ones to diminutive traditional flies such as the Beacon Beige (see the site for last season's Total Flyfisher article on this fly)- but wished I'd tied a few more Coch-y-bonddu flies in small sizes to match the hatch. Never mind, it is great to be back on the streams- beautiful fish and beautiful places. I'll let you decide whether a brown trout or a golden mirror carp wins this week's beauty contest. Not entirely sure I can decide!