Escape to the cut

Someone recently asked me "what does it take to produce a fishing book?" The truth isn't so glamorous, I'm willing to admit. It takes as much perspiration as inspiration. It requires sitting in an empty room for long periods, well away from any water. It takes a maddening process of words, photographs, emails, strong coffee, phone calls and miles on the road. I love it, but it can be lonely. Take the above shot, one of a few possibles for a cover image. It looks serene enough. But what you don't see are the 120 "not quite right" versions, the buggering around with angles and exposures and self timers. Or the part where I'm desperately scrabbling to nail one final alternative shot before the light fades and end up with one foot in the canal.
Then again, there are the genuine discoveries. Like the brilliant stories and anecdotes that have arrived in my inbox. Or the way that sometimes mid sentence I'm transported back to 1991 again, catching rudd and perch as a kid sitting in the beer garden at Double Locks.

And why not start with the small things? If I had to try and distil the essence of canal fishing, it would be something child like, the simple act of finding somewhere quiet, watching a float and wondering what might happen. And I felt closer to that moment by putting everything down last midweek and getting down to the canal for an afternoon with my old man. After all, you can have too much research and not enough practise. It was a sweet afternoon too. I had a small, suicidal perch on a bare hook while plumbing the depth and the bites pretty much continued from there on in. No grand ambitions, just a float tip and a cute swim. And the canal was alive with fish. An infinity of greedy perch, and my dad cursing the lightning quick roach bites. We each had quite a collection on pinkies over ground bait:

I also anticipated pike however. It's inevitable they'll find you when there are that many small fish. The first spotted was about two pounds and arrowed into the side of the keepnet, daft bugger. That was about all the invitation I needed to switch to a pike rod for the last hour.
More and more often on the weedier canals and drains I'm starting to think conventional pike fishing is rather dogmatic. Always two treble hooks, and a bait nailed to the bottom where it isn't incredibly easy for the pike to spot. Hence more often, I'll float fish a deadbait at mid depth, with just one treble nicked through the back. This also lets the bait drift with any tow or breeze and search more water. Call me eccentric, but I also enjoy using a centre pin for this close range fishing. I fancied there would be several pike in the vicinity ogling all the small fish drawn to the ground bait and it took no more than twenty minutes before the float popped and started a slow walk that I hit immediately:

The fish went on an absurdly strong first run. They so often punch hard at this time of year, all lean and angry. The single, semibarbed treble fell out in the net and I released the fish without the indignity of weighing her, a low double I'd guess. A great afternoon's fishing and for at least a few stolen hours I'd forgotten all about word counts and emails.

Canal zander

I seem to be getting more and more nomadic as autumn kicks in. I feel like I've spent more time in the midlands the last fortnight than actually at home. Zander explain at least half the reason why. Not only do I love fishing for them, I've also been eager for more canal fishing material for my current book project (Later note- this is now finished and available from my site- Canal Fishing: A Practical Guide). My high opinion of zander might well cause a sharp intake of breath from pole anglers who read the finished article- but I not only enjoy catching these stylish killers (or trying to!), I consider them a very welcome species.

For one thing, they are so constantly mysterious and intriguing. Perhaps it's because they thrive in dirty water and hence defy attempts at careful observation. They are also beautifully mean to look at. That huge, cold eye. That mass of great fins and angular, sinister profile. And nor is the fishing predictable either, with lures, deadbaits and even flies all thrown into the mix. It started with bait tactics last week however, as I tackled the maze of canals near Fazely:

Rain follows me like a bad smell at the moment, as you can see from this "character building" (and for some time utterly biteless) scene on a boat junction. I tried small, freshly killed dead baits here- and for the record, I always think catching a handful of baits is instructive in itself when predator fishing. Anyone who thinks zander, or pike for that matter, "eat everything" needs their brains testing. I found stacks of small and not so small fish here on pinkies, half a dozen of the smallest making perfect zander baits.
With space cramped and banks hard, quiver tip style tactics seemed ideal, with the rod tucked in parallel to the bank. I also made use of a swimfeeder packed with a fishmeal ground bait. I got a soaking for several hours, but the zander responded well and I had four in total, to about the four pound mark.

The real eye-opener came a few days later however, although it nearly didn't happen as my car refused to start at 5am that morning. A visit from the AA and a new battery later though and I was back on the road and on my way to fishing a different canal in the company of John Cheyne and Andy Mytton. These guys absolutely love lure fishing and it was hard not to feel buoyed by their positive attitude. I decided I just had to try the fly rod- even though the water was so coloured it didn't exactly fill me with confidence. We roved between a handful of areas- although one thing I immediately noticed was just how long these chaps will linger in specific areas, covering water really thoroughly.

The nips and pulls arrived early, building a sense of anticipation. I had been wondering if I needed my brains testing trying the fly, but one of my jig style flies, tipped with a tiny grub tail, soon got a big whack mid-canal.

In fact my jig fly came back looking vandalised after this first hit, half of it gone. Revenge was sweet though, and the third solid pluck I received led to a proper hook up and a thumping, perch-like fight from this handsome devil:


That was the best of a fly caught brace in the end. Very gratifying, although our lure enthusiasts took the most fish, using jigging tactics mostly with small shads. What a brilliant, skilful method this is too. I learned tons just by watching them- not least of all that zander demand a finer presentation than pike. Retrieves are quite gentle and the key is in keeping in touch with the lure at all times, often keeping the rod at quite a high angle to jig lures in the bottom foot or so of water. That said, both these lure men catch a lot from right under the rod tip, sometimes just by walking along the sides of walls and boats:

Perch also joined several typical canal zander, this one falling to Andy's 4" shad:

Honours were about even at close of play I would say, although John had the best zander of the day with this better sample. What a fantastic looking fish!

It was a great day and the banter was every bit as good as the quality of the fishing. The most disturbing part of it was the sudden squealing sound of excited turkeys taking me by surprise. "The locals like plucking them round here," John told me (or at least that's what I think he said!!!). As for where we fished, well- I'm not going to lead you there by the hand but there is great potential for roving anglers here with twelve miles of water on the Grand Union to explore, controlled by the LACC on a cracking value five quid day ticket (see www.lureanglerscanalclub.co.uk).
With John acting as Regional Coordinator for the Angling Trust, it was also great to get his thoughts on the state of our canals in general, and a whole range of current ideas for their continued use and development. And on this note, I can't stress highly enough how important it is for all of us to put our weight behind the sport we love. Times might be hard, but one great current initiative is to offer membership for just £2.50 a month. That's less than a pint of beer, and an affordable way to give angling your much needed backing! (Check out the Angling Trust site for more details at www.anglingtrust.net)
The way the last two weeks have gone I may as well relocate to Birmingham, my final trip taking me near Coventry for the Tackle and Guns show. I was there with Turrall, and also got to play with one of their lovely new Peak vices to turn out a few dozen flies for roach, rudd and pike.

Events like this are brilliant. So many friendly people and friends I hadn't seen for way too long. It was also a great chance to spread the word about my work with Turrall, who will be producing an entire range of flies specially made for coarse fish species under my name in early 2014. The response so far has been really exciting- and when you think about it, it's about bloody time somebody made a series of tried and trusted patterns for roach, chub, perch and the rest. Coarse species are everywhere, not only accessible to everybody but often so much more affordable than trout waters. My favourites so far are perhaps the chub flies- which include beauties like a cricket, a kicking beetle and even a wasp (or "jasper" as we Devonians call them!). I'm hoping the range will provide a lot of fun and really take the headache out of fly selection for anglers in the new year:

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