Berries and Books

Isn't it funny how in fishing, as in life, we so often overlook answers that are there sitting right under our noses? On a recent trip to the canal at Bridgwater Docks with Russ Hilton, the answer to making a great catch was literally growing from the bank. We'd been catching plenty of small silver bream and roach but struggling to land anything bigger when I spotted something. Hanging there, over the skankiest bit of canal you could imagine, were bunches of ripe elderberries.

You've probably seen these growing by water on your own travels. Red branches, cute but rather sour little things. Back in the day they not only made wine out of them but used these to catch solid roach. It started with a little dare: "Go on, slip one on the hook, see what happens." The next few minutes were spell binding: slow, juicy bites and a cracking stamp of fish.

A fantastic run of roach, rudd and silver bream all in the space of a few casts. Russ was just as impressed. Like me, he has a thing about silver bream, which seemed especially partial to an elderberry. So often misidentified as skimmers, these dark-finned, large eyed fish are prolific in Somerset waters and very pretty they are too:

While Russ got more bites fishing on the drop, I had set my stall out for better fish on the bottom. It very nearly paid off as I hooked and lost what felt like a good tench on a berry! Even so, we both managed very tidy bags of fish on these traditional baits, which we used in conjunction with hempseed.

You might have noticed I've been spending a lot of time on canals this season- and on that note it's probably about time I disclosed a badly kept secret. My current book project is on canal fishing, to be published by Merlin Unwin books for early Spring 2014. And it's already two thirds written, amidst a haphazard tour of canals from here in the Westcountry to the Highlands of Scotland and everywhere in between. It has been a mammoth undertaking, but one I've really sunk my teeth into. I simply love canal fishing. As well as a phenomenal range of brilliantly mysterious and untapped fishing, canals have wonderful history. They have a deep nostalgia and are the kind of waters where every lead you follow leads to another three question marks.
As well as a bang up to date work on different species and techniques, the book will also be a complete guide to UK canals, with notable captures, hot areas and eye-opening trivia on scores of venues. What began as one of the most daunting challenges I've ever faced is coming together nicely however. Variety is hardly the word and my most recent stop took me to the heart of London on the Regents Canal.


Surprisingly beautiful and clear waters met me on the way to "Little Venice". This is intriguing, challenging fishing to say the least, perhaps illustrated by the sight of a large carp passing under the boats as I walked from Paddington Station. Along with the obligatory drowned traffic signs, trolleys and cormorants were scattered pockets of fish. The session wasn't plain sailing however and for the first couple of hours I couldn't buy a bite, even on a single pinkie on a size 20 hook. Expecting murkier water I hadn't taken any bread, which I kicked myself for. Nevertheless, after a move that good old canal staple of chopped worm earned me some bites from under the boats, and a couple of pretty, blank-saving perch:

The Sunday was then a jump to Merton in south London to meet up with the Wandle Piscators holding their "World Rivers Day" event. An intriguing selection of guests appeared, starting with organizer Jez Mallinson dying fly tying materials in little dishes that resembled the sort used by my mother for Sunday lunch:

Also on the traditional fishing crafts theme, Chris Reeves and Caroline Emmet were busy tying flies, with Steve Dedman making traditional river floats:

Along with Charles Rangely-Wilson and Theo Pike I made up one of a trio of authors signing books:


One of my favourite parts of these fishing events is when the real river fishing nuts turn up with trays full of mini beasts. You won't ever get a better chance to photograph the tiny critters of our waters at such close quarters, hence I just had to have a go with the camera. Here's a rather beautiful stone loach:

Wye chub and newly hatched flies

When it comes to the fishing year, certain methods are perfect for certain seasons. You wouldn't go casting dry flies for rudd during December, or fish for pike in a heat wave. But there are also methods that seem to work whatever the conditions. Provided there is enough water clarity, streamer style flies will work for chub at any point in the season. Ok, so it might not be quite as "pure" as casting a dry fly and watching old rubber lips take a gulp; but the sudden shock of a fish battering a streamer is a singularly thrilling experience in its own right.

My guest for a guided trip on the Wye this week was Andrew Dean, all the way from the much warmer waters of South Africa. I had been crossing my fingers for mild, settled weather that didn't quite materialise, although the water was still fairly clear and we managed to locate some fish in inches of water in one of my favourite swims. Andrew managed a couple on big dry flies (and by big I mean BIG! a size 6 grasshopper worked well), also adding a tiny dace and a rather beautiful brown trout when we'd scaled down to a Klinkhamer and nymph combo. The main event was with the streamers however, wading into the vicinity of some craggy holes and Andrew steering both British and South African flies adeptly into the gaps (credit due for losing only one of my own special Woolly Buggers in the foliage!). As aggressive as these fish can be, a slightly slower, upstream and across presentation seemed to work best, giving the fly plenty of wiggle in the current. Time and again the line kept jolting tight, followed by some bludgeoning fights from the chub, including a hat trick over the 3lb mark. For a chilly September day that's great fishing:

One of the key parts to any fishing trip is having the right tools for the job. Where coarse fish are concerned, I get the feeling anglers have been rather short changed when it comes to flies. Not everyone ties their own and it is a major confidence boost to get your hands on tried and trusted patterns in the right sizes. Which leads me to some exciting news: I am currently working with Turrall to produce a special range of flies for coarse fish that will be for sale in the not too distant future! It was great to meet the team on a recent visit, tying up samples and sussing materials:

It is always a great source of satisfaction for me to provide fellow anglers with flies that work. I love developing my own patterns and get a real kick out of hearing about others' successes. Working with Turrall I hope to do this on a much bigger scale in future and it will be a great honour to have a range of flies under my name with this great Devon company, who have been turning out top quality flies for a good while longer than my thirty four years on this planet! I won't spoil the surprise just yet, but chub, dace, roach, rudd, perch and pike will all feature on a growing menu of tailor made flies for coarse fish. Watch this space for more details.

Carp, Cameras, Cuts

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

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

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

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

Tangled in Walthamstow

My head hurts. My heart hurts. Life is currently one big tangle that I'm attempting to sort out. This one will take some patience and a bit of cursing though- there are bits of shot dotted around, a broken float, impressively random knots, part of a tree. Actually the entire last fortnight has been a bit of a tangle.

I did finally fish up in Walthamstow, however, where my brother now lives. I'm glad I took the Monday off on this wild weekend. In search of a hangover cure, I went fishing with Vince, a plasterer by trade but also a closet angling traditionalist. First job was to locate both a hair of the dog and his fishing tackle. I love the old stuff- and I fished with the favourite float rod of Vince's late friend Simon Payne, to honour a lost angler:

I was treated to a proper little mystery tour by Vince, complete with flooding sites and the ghosts of old tackle shops. It's urban up in the 'Stow' but there's actually a surprising amount of fishing to be had. Epping Forest is a beautiful surprise, like a separate little world away from the concrete.


Most of the lakes are free fishing with an EA license and there are a fair few different species. Like I said though, Vince is something of a traditionalist. The type of guy who sighs a little at the thought of carp lakes and bite alarms. And he didn't just talk the talk, bringing a whicker creel, cane rod and an old Mitchell reel. Tench are his absolute favourite fish, so that was what we decided to fish for.

We baited up several spots and did a little tour of the lake, but perhaps it was just one of those days when the fish aren't interested. All of the catching and best tench were confined to stories and some laid back chat over beer. And let's face it, sometimes beer and good company are as much part of the fishing as the actual casting and catching. In fact, I've already vowed to get back in the autumn because Vince has yet an unfulfilled ambition to catch a big pike.

(There ain't no cure for) The Summertime Blues

I've had the summer time blues lately. Worn out from deadlines and hot car journeys. Wasted. And like the song, there ain't no cure for it. Too much to do, when all I'd really like to do is loaf about by some water. Perhaps the closest I got was an afternoon off with Norbert Darby, who I've been nagging to come fishing for ages. And it was just beautifully laid back. Even fishing gets so damned aspirational. Personal bests. Targets. Yawn. I like fishing with Norbert because in his heart he's as wayward as I am, or would like to be if a hundred and one ways of scraping together a living didn't get in the way. We had a perfect little trip. Meet late afternoon over a swift half. Throw a fly rod, a few lures and a few odds and ends in the boot. Wind the windows down and take the scenic route.

Sometimes the easier you take it, the easier you get it. We shared a rod and took aim at the rudd, and in one of those effortless, "did-that-just-bloody-happen?" moments Norbert produced something close to art. The cast which doesn't fall short or land in a tree, but straightens poetically. The fish that doesn't hesitate but accepts the fly in a heartbeat. And it was a beautiful fish. A rudd of about a pound, black back, greenish gold.

We had several other chunky fish too, in between yapping to an old guy fishing, catching trees and searching for that cure for the Summertime Blues they couldn't find in the song. The sun soon reached an eye-straining angle, but we kept catching on dry flies. Much easier to look for rises than spot a size 14 speck of nothing slipping down the far margin. It was bloody magic. The only flying ant left in my box ended up with no wings, no legs and was forced to retire, so enthusiastic were the rudd.


Our spirits were lifted further into the evening by the arrival of Steve Moore and Adam Moxey, who fancied chucking some lures around after work. The smile never left my face as Steve lived up to his "Super Mario" nickname by donning appropriate head gear, while Mox became Luigi. Just brilliant!

The pike didn't really arrive at the party- and who can blame them, it was sodding hot. That said, Mario himself got a proper hit and a scrappy pike as the sun went down.

My other recent escape was on the Bude Canal with Russ Hilton, where the sheer volume of people traffic led me to ditch pole fishing and sling out a small method feeder. This trick is actually growing on me. Yes, it is widely known as the slag of all angling techniques. But actually, it does need a little refinement. I used to mess about with two mixes, making one up with an egg added to make a sticky, central core. These days I just add a nice oily additive a little at a time for the inner layer, before adding a lighter crumb to the outside.

The bites can be ridiculous- and it also works really well for bream. The only drawback on the Bude cut is the amount of eels, necessitating the use of corn or pellet over my usual favourite offering of dead maggots. Russ made up a belting net (check out the ever enlightening "Tales From the Towpath" blog). Mine was a little more modest but had its highlights.

We also had a fun couple of hours on Downacarey Lake (on the Westcountry Angling Passport), catching a bit of the Ashes on the radio as we meandered through Cornwall's crappy back roads. A pretty place this. The carp just couldn't be bothered, and in any case I ate most of the luncheon meat (so wrong and yet so right). We had scores of rudd and perch however, and it was proper schoolboy fishing on a hot afternoon. Two mates and a fishing rod, gassing about nothing in particular and inventing daft games between bites.

I like this blog. It has taken the place of the notebook diaries I once wrote. It allows me to meander, in the style of aforementioned shitty, but pretty, leafy roads. It allows me to escape hot cars, deadlines and paperwork. As with Devon's road system, things just tend to pile up, at exactly the time you really fancied kicking back. But the other silver lining of late has been news from Merlin Unwin Books. "Flyfishing for Coarse Fish" is to get a second print run after excellent sales. This not only means a temporary reprieve from canned food for yours truly, but also means that all of you who bought the first edition now own something that is increasing in collectible value! (Not that you'd ebay it now, would you?!).
In other news, we've also had another run of great catches in the "Fly For Coarse" contest. The next issues of Angling Times and Fly Fishing & Fly Tying magazine will feature a full roundup, including chub, bream and a simply mesmerising pike! Perhaps working through the summer isn't all blues after all.

As for the actual Summertime Blues, here's my favourite version, by Guitar Wolf. Best played loud in a hot car to "entertain" the queues of grockels. Adding a link to Blogger seems like splitting the atom, but rock'n'roll fans can paste this link into their address bar if they can be bothered:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wgaVe6miq-8

Carping and King Fishers

Carp are one of those species that cause heated pub debates between angling factions. My own position? I love them, but I do feel like carp angling sometimes suffers from tunnel vision. There are so many ways to catch carp, and not all depend on multiple rods and multiple hours on the bank. Just ask Dan Sales and Ben Hayward, two anglers with intriguing and very different approaches to their carp fishing.


First stop on a mini road trip was on some gravel pits for a spot of fly fishing. Ben Hayward is one of those anglers who doesn't just imitate. Or perhaps I should say that's exactly what he does- he imitates fly life! As a Devon angler used to pokey little ponds, the pits are a different world. They're also fertile places when it comes to fly life. There's something rather refreshing about watching a guy with just one rod strolling past bivvies armed with a box of bloodworms, bugs and dry flies as opposed to boilies.

I'm not going to lay all his cards out here- that's a task for an in depth feature. But what I would say is that Ben is living proof that with some smart thinking and a lot of legwork, anything is possible with a fly rod. He doesn't always imitate specific hatches, but I noticed plenty of large nymphs and dry flies such as Hare's Ears, damsels and daddies in his box. In spite of only fly fishing for three or four seasons, he has picked up some impressive skills. Getting stuck in to tight corners and accurate roll casting play a big part:

The recent thunder seemed to have made the carp picky, but Ben managed to hook and land a battling eight pounder with the added pressure of my lens on him (and the added pressure of Fly For Coarse organiser Charlie Hancock making lewd comments to try and break his concentration). A great effort- and we didn't see a single fish taken by anglers with two or three rods per man.


Another angler with a refreshingly different approach to carping is Dan Sales. Being a total canal enthusiast I couldn't wait to hit the towpath with him and go in search of some commons and mirrors on his local cut. Again it was mobility and an open mind that stood out. Here's a line you don't hear often from carp men: "I can't stand sitting around in one spot!"
And it paid off. Negotiating ducks, boats and other obstacles, Dan managed to get into the fish on a tough day. Much of his approach is about free-lining bread and other simple baits, which certainly helps beat the crayfish. When ducks are a menace he also zig-rigs bread or slings out simple legered pop-ups. Again, there are too many ideas to pack into the quick scribble of this blog (and I have to save some of the choice bits for articles, because the tinned food is running out).

The camera has a strange effect on my fishing at times. You can't be an active photographer and a 100% committed angler at the same time, and vice versa. And I wouldn't grumble at this simple fact, because I find getting quality images just as rewarding as fishing itself these days. That said, I did manage to catch a small but scrappy common on a free-lined piece of bread.
Some wise guy said that a fishing adventure is not about the final outcome, but all the things that happen on the way. And so it proved on a sweltering afternoon. We saw quite possibly Britain's oldest female impersonator on a canal barge of all places. And exhibit B was this rather strange llama type thing with really odd mannerisms, which looked like something out of a Kafka story, all swivelling ears and curiously human scratching.

Talking of surreal experiences, do tune in to "King Fishers" on Monday if you get the chance (National Geographic Channel, 8pm, 5th Aug). From African war dances to humpback whales, it was a fishing adventure I will never forget. Looking at some of the friction in the series so far, I'm also grateful to have been competing against two really friendly (but still slightly nuts!) characters in Gambia's Tony Tabbal and Geir Sivertzen of Norway. These guys are legends. My rivals perhaps, but one of the best bits of the show was making two great friends. I've already been ice fishing since with Geir, while Tony has really taken to fly fishing after the hasty casting lesson I gave him in England. A true exchange of angling ideas and cultures you might say. Enjoy the ride!

Blazing Sport

Earlier today, a non fishing mate asked a straight question: "So, is this hot weather any good for fishing?"
I had to hesitate. Truth be told, the heat can make fishing really tough. On a low, clear river the fish can see you more easily. They can also see your line and any mistakes more easily. Then again, for some species (notably rudd and chub) sport can be terrific, especially on the fly. Every time I peruse the "Flyfishing for Coarse Fish" FaceBook group there seem to be more cracking pictures posted- with chub especially well represented.

As for more traditional game species, it can be tougher. Such was the case on the Taw, where I was delighted to meet up with Cal and Karl Salmon once again. Having made a great start to their fly casting (and catching!) adventures on a stillwater, they were keen to try on a river. It was certainly beautiful, but baking hot. I felt they didn't get the results their efforts deserved. This is the trouble with fishing. You can make a dozen perfect presentations, but you can't force the fish to take.
We finally saw some activity as the odd fish rose under trees and a willing taker or two. Faster, well oxygenated water is also still worthwhile. The real fluke of the day came in the afternoon though, when this foot long brownie, the day's best, raced to grab a fly that I had raced in with no second thought, purely to get the line back on the reel. Typical really- you bang on about careful presentation and then catch one in the most careless fashion possible!
I also had the pleasure of a session at Sydenham with Adam Moxey, which is part of the great value "Westcountry Angling Passport" scheme. Moxey was also pretty new to river fly fishing, but acquitted himself well. He was soon catching trout as well as trees after a quick side casting lesson. In spite of the heatwave, I felt that the river here was perhaps a decent bet in the sun as it is so cool and well shaded. The one frustration was the grayling. We could see these clearly enough, but getting them to take was another matter.

None were willing to rise and they looked decidedly docile sitting near the bottom. The above fish was our only bite from the fish we had to re-christen "fussy bitches of the stream" as opposed to ladies. It took my nymph really eagerly, which is more than you can say for the others. The better news is that this beat, as well as others will be open well into autumn when conditions should be more suitable.

In other news I was honoured to be a guest of Fly Fishing and Fly Tying magazine at the CLA Game Fair. The aim was to spread the gospel about "Fly For Coarse" - and fittingly enough my article on dace fishing features in this months edition. I also used the allure of some of my soft fish to draw in some unwitting visitors, while Sue Rudge from FF&FT's esteemed Salmon School quickly commandeered the giant salmon:
For anyone who thinks country sports are niche, this event is an eye opener. 150 000 guests in three days is not exactly a fringe event! It's also a great chance to catch up with old friends and some of the real characters of the fishing world. I felt right at home as the Westcountry Angling Passport crew poured me a pint of Dartmoor Jail Ale! It was also great to hear of Des Taylor's adventures from the man himself, as well as meeting up with Dr Mark Everard doing his own book signing with new title "Redfin Diaries". I also notice that this Professor of roach fishing has also been catching them on the fly, a gold bead hare's ear to be specific. I'm hoping to join him on the river later this summer, not for hulking great creatures but the colourful species from his brilliant "Little Book of Little Fishes." Should be fun!