Late Summer Fishing Highs and Lowlives

In another interesting week of summer fishing I've been cramming in the short sessions wherever possible once again. A bit of a scattergun approach perhaps, but as we head into the end of August you do get that feeling that there is only so much summer left, with time so precious and limited.

Some regular followers will no doubt relate to the plight of the multiple job man. In the eyes of the tax system at least, I have no fewer than four different jobs. And although much of my time is to do with the things I love, it is sill work- and it can be tricky to free a few hours just to sneak off down the river, or spend a bit of time with the wife and no technology in sight. Chance would be a fine thing... quite often I want to bung my phone into the sea.



One benefit of my hours writing blogs and other copy for Clockwork (a marketing company near Newton Abbot) is that I finish my office hours only a short distance from the sea. And with Darren Sieminski, one of our ace website designers, a keen sea angler himself, another post work trip to the coast was overdue.

We parked by Living Coasts (slightly cheaper than the 24 hour robbery of the marina carpark) grabbed some tea straight from the outdoor market in Torquay before fishing the left hand wall of the outer harbour. Caught in about ten different minds, I had bundled four different rods in the car, along with LRF lures and some bait. Darren could have been forgiven for looking a bit confused.

Not that it took long to get bites. I had two small wrasse right from the off on small plastic worms fished dropshot style. Meanwhile, Darren had a small pollack on float tackle. He had released it carefully, but just as it looked as if it might recover, a seagull nabbed it. After that we had little for an hour, aside from a brief altercation with a guy on the other side of the wall, who insisted on wanging his rigs right round our side of the barrier, and then throwing a a strop when the lines got caught.

Seriously, I do worry about anyone who would hurl abuse at a complete stranger over something as petty as who has the right to cast where. As someone who worked for years with junkies, alcoholics and violent offenders, I'm fairly well versed in keeping calm and not lighting any fuses. Our friend here could have done with a similar lesson- because on a sea wall, threatening behaviour could lead to someone getting injured or killed. But hey ho, this is public fishing I guess. We also saw an inflatable boat fishing and moving right in feathering range of the pier- perhaps a southwest contender for the Darwin Awards on the cards?



Our bad tempered friend then promptly left just as the tide was climbing and the light went dimpsy. So much for picking your moment, because the fishing improved greatly as night approached. I had a lure caught pouting (above) on a weedless rigged Isome section, before giving Darren a crack with the lure rod and baiting up a bottom rig with a prawn. Not so long ago I wouldn't have given supermarket prawns a second look, but they seem to make pretty decent baits for flatties and smaller species.


Just about able to pick out the rod tip by the lights of the fairground in the distance, I had a really rod rattling bite. It wasn't the four-pound bass I had imagined, but nevertheless a very welcome rockling. My first, as it happens. I'm no expert on the different types of rockling, so perhaps someone could enlighten me? I gather they will also occasionally take lures.



It was a lovely evening, in fact, totally forgetting about phones and deadlines and just feeling for bites by the lights of Torquay. Sea fishing here is so much more varied than you realise, because 90% of visitors only seem to have eyes for mackerel. I strongly suspect that night fishing is the answer though, whether with lures or bait. To cement this hunch, Darren then hooked into the best fish of the trip; a hard-fighting pollack quite a bit bigger than the earlier samples.



Just for the record, Clockwork Marketing are well worth a look for anyone involved in the hospitality trade or trying to build a business in any leisure or tourism activity! We make fantastic websites- and already do a great job for one or two fishing hotels. So much of the fishing world is blighted by dated and inadequate online presence I cannot help but feel there are more matches to be made in future. After all, how many dedicated marketing and website building agencies have actual anglers on the team?

I digress anyway, but if you are traveling to Devon soon, or if sea fishing is your thing, do also be sure to take a look at the recent Channel Kayaks Blog HERE, which features several recent kayak fishing marks and trips in Devon, from Sidmouth to Salcombe. Meanwhile, tackling the craggier parts of the South Hams in the company of happy-go-lucky maniac Norbert Darby is also my focus for the new edition of Fallon's Angler, just out.

So what else of note can I report from the past week or two? I jumped at the chance to dash back onto the local canals and River Tone for some surface sport, if done in a bit of a hurry. On the cut, I must have spent about 80% of a 2-3 hour session just walking and looking and not fishing, seeking out larger rudd and roach. And I found one or two, albeit in very different spots to previous seasons. I lost what looked like a 2lbs+ hybrid (bream/rudd?) basking in the top foot of water, before netting two nice rudd to one pound nine ounces. As is so often the case, it was a simple capture- the only key was casting in a bushy swim and getting a simple hackled wet fly (one of my Turrall Spiders) close to the fish.



I also had a quick blast on the River Tone with Norbert joining me for the ride. We must be freak magnets, because we had uniformed staff out looking for some crook on the run.... who we think we spotted later. One of those guys you take one look at and think "oh God, what happens now... ". First it was "can I use your phone, I'll pay you a tenner" (because I always willingly lend my phone to guys who look like crack addicts) before the question "has there been any police or guys down here looking for me?" Christ on a unicycle, I bet the landed gentry fly fishing on the Test and Itchen don't have to deal with this sort of shit. One scary lunatic, and that's coming from me and Norbert, who seem to draw these undesirables like perch to a wriggling worm.

Still, the chub were feeding, albeit very spooky. So often in the low, clear water they would come right up to the fly, before sulking away again. The only takes were by taking your life in your hands and dropping a big terrestrial right under the branches in their sanctuary. I missed two nice fish, but hooked one of the best in a group of eight or so fish, which took a Chopper (my big, leggy deer hair winged fly designed for the species).



Otherwise, the only fishy business I have to report is of a very pleasant short session on Creedy Lakes. Yes, I Know, I'm not always a fan of the big main lake. It's all a bit bivvy-tastic. But I had a lovely evening on the top pond and also made a new friend. In the same way you know instantly that some folks are surly buggers (like our friend in Torquay, Mr High Blood Pressure/ No Manners), others you just instantly know are on your wave length.

Such was the case with Mick Latham, who fished the next swim and was such great company- as we filled out tickets it appeared we had exactly the same plan, to fish simply on the less fashionable top lake, where it's pretty and weedy, even if the fish aren't quite as big.

Rather than race for the best spots though, we played it civilised, sharing pegs and anecdotes. It does make you think- surely this is the way it should always be, rather than competing with each other like kids? Sometimes I dislike busy specimen fisheries because regulars can get so serious they won't even say "hello" or "how's it fishing?". But it costs so little to be friendly to other anglers; and you could get a useful tip off or make a new pal.

I stuck it out on the floaters in the end, using nothing more complicated than a 50p bubble float (often just as good and less obtrusive than the huge £5 odd things I always see in the tackle shops) and a few dog biscuits. This was the best of my brace (and no, I didn't weigh it):



In between a perfect lazy evening, watching the kingfishers, picking out the hoot of an owl, laughing and discussing life, the universe and everything, Mick went one better and caught three. We shared netting and photography roles too, perhaps confirming that angling etiquette isn't dead after all. Nice fish too in this top pond- they tend to be wily and strong:



The only other recent journey was to Merlin Unwin Books, publishers of "Flyfishing For Coarse Fish", to attend their 25th anniversary bash and meet some fellow authors. I'll be reviewing some new fishing books shortly from their range, so do watch this space.



The plan was then to fish at Caerphilly Castle on the way home, but the weather was too filthy to stick around long. Those keeping up with my weekly Angling Times column or who bought Crooked Lineswill know of my love of unusual angling destinations. This will also be the topic of a new photographic competition on the way very soon.

Until our lines cross again, let's all keep our heads and keep smiling. Happy fishing and my best to you all.

Back to Basics

It’s tough coming home after a holiday. Especially when there is great fishing involved. Great fishing that you know you won’t be able to afford again for a long time! So what is the answer? How do you deal with a holiday hangover?

Perhaps the easiest option, after a few days of catching up with work and sleep, is to get back to the bread and butter fishing that you know and love. Because the stuff on your doorstep is also good fun. In fact, had you arrived from a totally different country you would probably be wowed with a lot of it. Because even an urban, free fishery has mystery and something new every time. Even if it’s in Tiverton or Torbay, not California.

When you live by writing of various kinds, with fishing a big chunk of it, a sense of perspective is vital. Never mind living the dream, you have to work at it- and if you’re not careful you can kill your passion. Which is why I always make sure that besides the “serious” expeditions, where fish, pictures and words have to be conjured up to order, I always make room for casual, fun fishing. Because the moment you lose sight of that laid back pleasure in the simple things, it all becomes just a job.

Time is incredibly precious. Until the eight day week is invented, I will continue to steal two hours here, an afternoon there, to get my fix like everyone else. The way I see it, this is healthy.



Rudd fit the bill perfectly- and there is no better place to catch them on the fly than the smaller canals and drains in Devon and Somerset. I had a real challenge on my hands on the Tiverton Canal though, with a quick afternoon off cursed by fierce gusts of wind. Not only does this make casting a pain, you just can’t spot the fish easily –or even the rises.

I found one or two twists and turns, after a fair walk, where the wind was less fierce and I could at least spot the fish. I had several that I could pick out in the upper layers, all to spiders and little beaded nymphs in sizes 14-18. And although high winds didn't help with location, the fish were up for it. I saw quite a large fly in the drink, in fact, with a rudd taking three attempts to nab it from the ripple!


Roach also showed up, along with a few perch, all sitting in the top few inches of water. Most were more than willing to take a fly, the breeze perhaps helping to mask any less than delicate casts. Sometimes it was tricky to spot takes, so I resorted to adding a little floatant to the leader about two feet from the fly and just watching for small pulls before striking. Not big fish, but fun on light tackle and all in the space of just a couple of hours. Small perch were also there for the taking on a tiny minnow streamer from my coarse box.



Rather than face the rush hour into Exeter, which is quickly starting to resemble Essex in the congestion stakes, I decided to take a last hour on the River Lowman, Tiverton. Ironically, the breeze was a help rather than a hindrance with the small trout which are far more easily spooked than rudd and roach.


This is a pretty stream, if you mentally blot out some of the more industrial background. In fact, man altered streams with little weirs and falls tend to produce well, with the pacy sections quite forgiving, even for a tall, ungainly angler. Tiny emergers and wets both hit the spot:



Perhaps the best part was the accidental crowd of kids who decided to join me though. After telling me that cheese was better than what I was using, I managed to pick out a lovely slightly better fish right before their eyes.


After this, the audience multiplied, as did the questions. And there were some humdingers:
"Is that a real fly?"
"What is the biggest fish you've ever caught?"
"Can you be arrested for pushing someone? This girl in my class says you can."

They were great fun- and although their antics probably didn't help me catch many more trout, I think they learned a little about fly fishing, and trout, and not scaring them. In an age where we're continually told that young people are bad/lazy/addicted to technology, it's refreshing to see kids racing pushbikes, crawling along the banks and hopping in and out of a stream.



The next fishing window I had was another piece of quickfire opportunism, this time on Brixham Breakwater with the LRF fishing tackle on the way from work. This time I was hoping for mackerel and pollack, but with the tide still quite low and locals complaining about the local seals scaring off the shoals, I thought I might have to adapt. I quite often wonder if these things are just excuses, but looking over the sea wall, I did wonder if they might have a point:



I couldn't tempt a mackerel, and the winds were brutal on the outer wall, so I switched to the inside, where there are usually plenty of modest wrasse and mini species to go for, which usually escape the attention of the feathering brigade.



I managed to land three up to about three-quarters of a pound quite quickly, all on Texas-rigged Isome type worms, while getting chatting to a chap escaping for a quick hour away from the wife and kids. He wasn't catching and I could feel his pain. Having only a small window of opportunity can be frustrating. So after the next fish, I decided to play nice and give him the lure and rig I was using. A mere three minutes later, his lure rod slammed over and I had to run back to him with the net!



A nice ballan wrasse it was too, very fit and probably as big as my four put together! Still, I was as happy as I would have been catching it myself.

The older I get, in fact (and don't let the beard fool you, I'm no spring chicken any longer) the more pleasure I get from helping other anglers and sharing knowledge. Teaching many people to fish over the past few summers is one of my quietest yet proudest achievements. I get a real kick out of launching others into the world of fishing and, hopefully, equipping them with skills to help them enjoy many years of peace and enjoyment- and I run various guided fly fishing trips in Devon and Somerset each season. Summer is peak time around Exmoor and on the streams of the Westcountry Rivers Trust.



Steve Badger and his son were my latest victims. The really lovely part of it was that they wanted to fish a wild stream, branches and all. It can be a real challenge even for the experienced, with low, bushy water and shy fish to deal with. But they quickly got the hang of making short deliveries and sneaking unobtrusively into tight spots. Side and catapult casts were the order of the day, often on hands and knees. It was challenging to say the least, but caught two fish, a small trout and a grayling. Result!



We fished the Westons stretch (see www.westcountryangling.com), a lovely bit of water for just £6 a day. The farmer was also brilliantly friendly and I think he was chuffed to see a youngster fishing on his land. We also made a new friend: Ruby, an ancient looking dog who is anybody's best friend for a pat on the head, who still enjoys helping to bring in the cows, albeit with a slight limp:



Needless to say, I got a real warm glow from the day, which wasn't just down to the blue skies and baking heat.

Perhaps the biggest change I've seen in angling over the past few seasons has been the sheer number of anglers who enjoy a varied fishing diet, with lots crossing over into fly fishing. Organisations such as the Angling Trust certainly help, and I was delighted to join them at the Game Fair at Ragley Hall. As soon as I spotted this rather funky vehicle, belonging to Sarah from Get Hooked on Fishing and "pimped" by fishing artist Dusto, I knew I was in the right place:


It wasn't the busiest it's ever been, but plenty of guests stopped by and, most importantly of all, stacks of youngsters got their first taste of fishing. The other great thing was the feeling of togetherness of all the angling branches. Everyone from the England Carp team to the Fly Dressers' Guild was out in force- and on an evening social we had just about every approach you can think of on the lake, from lure fishing to specimen, match and fly fishing on the lake. The carp were lean and hungry- and not easy to lure to the surface, although it was great to see one a visiting Scottish fly angler catch his first ever carp (of any description) on the fly.



In between doing some fishing talks and demos, I also caught up with some of the anglers really making the sport tick these days. The lure casting pool was a huge hit with the likes of Sam Edmonds and John Cheyne, while I also met "Big Fish Off" champion James Stokoe, before sinking some beers with Dusto and the others. I think he probably earned them more than me having spent the whole of a humid day working on another of his giant masterpieces. I am seriously considering asking him to paint my kayak!



Talking of kayak adventures, I've also been back out to sea to explore some shore marks. The fishing has varied from tough as nails to hectic, with a lot of lessons learned. More to come shortly on the blog at Channel Kayaks (a whole stack of species and venues covered- now live, CLICK HERE), including what is surely my biggest ever wrasse. It's a species I've really got to grips with, in no small part due to picking the brains of my lure fishing friends such as Andy Mytton. The same weedless and dropshot presentations also work wonders with real bait too:

Marriage, Wrasse and Wreckage

Regular readers of this blog will have heard, or been warned about Norbert Darby. He is as wayward as they come, and so I wasn't surprised when he turned up two hours late to my wedding by the Double Locks the other night. It's a pub I've had previous with, and a great place to have a wedding bash on so many levels.

So in his customary fashion, Norbert arrived rather late, half cut on a BMX and not especially smartly dressed. I was even more shocked to learn he hadn't been fishing in two years. Seemed odd, because we were once both glued to the banks of the Exeter Canal fishing for carp (as recalled in Crooked Lines). And so, in that drunken way that you do, we hatched a plan to go kayaking fishing on the South Hams.

From the off, you could probably file it under "seemed a good idea at the time." Lashing waves. A small boat. Norbert's love of adventure and warped sense of humour. I didn't sleep that well the night before. When you've just got married, it's not a great time to go missing or die. But Norbert was insistent, after another tin of cider, that he had done loads of kayaking in his younger days, when not driving uninsured cars and chasing barmaids.

So anyway, we faced a foggy start to the next day, weaving through backroads and laughing at the lack of civilisation and directions. Low tide was mid afternoon, which didn't seem so ideal but left us with some time. Or enough to fritter away in what looked like a garage-come-shop, but turned out to sell a whole heap of fishing tackle, local tat and all the rest. Norbert left with a four pack of Strongbow, some crisps, weedless bass lures and a 3D postcard with pigs on it, which he thought was the best 99p he'd spent in his life. But this is Norbert. He is permanently acquiring things, only to lose them.



We reached our sheltered mark around midday and got sorted with kit. This takes some discipline with kayak fishing, because when you're out there, everything can get wet or misplaced, so you have to be organised. I put my lure boxes in a fly vest for security. We also wore buoyancy aids for safety. Really bad early 1990's buoyancy aids, to be specific.



We took the plunge right from the beach, getting well out into the little bay quickly. The tide seemed quite reasonable, although the spot we were heading for seemed to channel the currents.

It is an eerie, exciting feeling travelling over rocky, kelpy ground in a kayak. It was great to see a mark I've fished since childhood from a totally different angle too. The odd larger wave would sometimes creep up and give you butterflies, but Norbert was a dab hand at steering the boat.



We headed for a large rock that I must have looked and wondered at from the shore for the last twenty years. Now we could get to it! We'd packed three rods between us. Two lighter lure fishing outfits, along with a more no nonsense set up. I tried the heavier set up first with a Texas-rigged worm. I fished it tight to the bottom, jigging quite patiently and feeling for the bites. I got two early plucks, then nothing. But as we reached a really deep, fishy looking spot, I switched to weedless Black Minnow. I'd just cast some fifteen yards from the kayak and given a couple of pulls, when the rod absolutely thumped over. A pollack? A decent wrasse?



It turned out to be a lovely ballan, not far off three pounds I would guess. Norbert's pictures were pretty shaky, but at least he kept us both alive.



And I'm hardly joking, because after a break and a bite to eat, it was a very different sea we found. The incoming tide and an onshore breeze had kicked up quite a swell. It was tricky just to get into the sea without shipping lots of water. Not a huge issue, because modern sit on kayaks for fishing are very stable, and act like a giant air-chamber. But it's a pain when you have things like lure boxes and a camera on you, regardless of whether you have a dry bag.

Some of the waves on the return journey were large to say the least. The big ones would just pick you up like a toy. It was good practise, although fishing was often out of the question. You have to constantly anticipate and watch for currents and bigger waves. If you head directly into the waves, you get shoved up and down, but in safety. Whereas if you catch a big wave side-on, this is the biggest risk of the kayak rolling and getting pitched into the sea.

Eventually, we had to admit defeat and fish from the shore, since it had seemed way too risky to get into the rocky parts we really wanted to fish. It got pretty rough though. We started to get a battering and the General nearly got washed into the sea. A little disappointing, but there were still fish to be found from the shore, doing a spot of rock hopping and casting lures into the gullies.

I must say, the wrasse have been excellent fun this year but also quite a sharp learning curve. Having a session or two with Andy Mytton has really opened my eyes to the detail here. It is such brilliant, and surprising, fishing too. The trick is to fish lures right amongst it, in the rocks and kelp, hopping across the bottom foot or to with a degree of patience. The challenge for someone more used to freshwater fish, is the patience required. With the smaller fish, you have to let bites develop. But when a better wrasse arrives, the decisiveness of the take can be formidable.

A wrasse of two or three pounds can be too much for the lightest tackle, which explains why I was relieved to land another recent fish of that stamp from a different rock mark. Curiously this was on another more testing session where the larger lures didn't score- and the best of the day took a small 3" section of worm, rigged weedless. Luck had it that the shelf below was quite open and I was able to keep the fish from burying itself. Even so, the battle on an ultralight rod and 5lb hook link was hair-raising, thrilling stuff! A long-handled net came in handy once again too.




Which is enough excitement for a bit. Because it might be June 16th tomorrow, but it's absolutely lashing it down outside. Although you can catch more from me in both the Angling Times and the Turrall Flies blog shortly...

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!

New horizons and old haunts

Does anyone else suffer from false-dawn syndrome each and every spring? The yo-yo temperatures and random seasons don't half mess with the moods of both fish and anglers at times. And this applies whether you're lure fishing a cove in South Devon, or tackling one of Cornwall's wild fly fishing lakes. Which is why I write this week's blog with some relief after some tricky fishing and hard won catches.



I had promised visiting angler Jim Sutherland a suitably mixed trio of outings, in fact, for what would be an unusual mission for me. The idea was three days of very different predator and fly fishing, adding a different twist to my usual guided fishing trips in Devon and Cornwall. Besides brushing up on casting skills and discovering some new fishing styles, he wanted to fish alongside me to produce an article.

A refreshing change for me, because by and large I do not fish when I guide. Aside from demonstrating the odd technique, I think it's poor form. Equally, as many articles I've appeared in, I can probably count those written about me by someone else on the fingers of one hand. As often as not, I tend to cover what others are doing, tending to agree with the saying that there's no telling what can be achieved if you're not fussed about who gets the credit. This way you get a much broader pool of knowledge than your own limited perspective. But this time it did make a nice change not have to do all the running and note-taking!

We started with a spot of lure and fly fishing in the rockier extremities of South Devon. If you can be bothered to walk, there are some stunning secret beaches and coves here. It's especially lovely to return to some of these spots you remember from childhood armed with more "grown up" fly or lure fishing tackle. The only slight hitch was that it had been a couple of years since I'd been to this particular spot, hence we slalomed through poky lanes and, on one occasion, popped into a local village hall where a makeshift polling station had been set up, just to ask for directions.

On this occasion, I intended to start with the lure rod, like Jim, because I desperately wanted a lure-caught wrasse. However, my usually reliable Shimano reel then decided to have a meltdown, with the spool no longer locking in place. Usually I cannot fault these reels, but I guess nothing lasts forever and twelve odd years had taken their toll. A bit embarrassing, to say the least, to be left with a tangle and a bust reel!

It was to be a curious quirk of fate though, because I soon got into the rhythm of casting a sandeel style fly pattern and began getting bites. A small pollack came first, before I wondered if I was seeing things. On a couple of deliveries I thought I had spotted long, silvery shapes chase the fly. And then I had my answer- a garfish took hold! My first garfish on the fly ever in fact (I've often seen them chase, but never got one in). The only slight regret is that I didn't get a better picture- but the sun was right in Jim's face and I decided I wanted to avoid excessive handling and let the thing go.



We had a testing, sometimes gruelling day after that. I was certain the bass and pollack would arrive on the rising tide, but they just wouldn't appear. And so eventually, we turned our attention back to the wrasse. In my case, I eventually tore myself away from the fly as Jim let me borrow his spare lure outfit (although I spent the day getting ribbed about "hire charges"). I broke my duck later in the day, but it was Jim who really earned his stripes with an absolute cracker that fought like fury. I'm going to be a party-pooper here and only show my own, more modest effort, because I don't want to steal his thunder for the full write up.



In the process of a really interesting three days we covered miles in the end, tackling Cornwall's Colliford Lake in pursuit of its stickleback-clobbering browns, not to mention a jaunt on the local canals. The latter, I think, really floated Jim's boat. Like me, he is a confirmed sight fishing addict with somewhat itchy feet, which was probably for the best given how many yards there were to cover over three days.



We had action packed hours and slow hours, but it was all interesting fishing. Perhaps the highlight was a foray into shallow waters with the fly. We had seen bream on the verge of spawning, but for the first time in the year I also spotted numbers of roach and hybrids sunbathing. They were willing to rise too, although they wanted quite small flies- larger bugs were flatly ignored, while a size 16 to 18 spider was sucked in gingerly by several nice samples.



We also played with the pike and perch- in my case, using my own dropshot minnow flies (which you can now find on my site). The perch were tricky, but in the clear margins it was possible to sight fish and use fluorocarbon rather than wire, to earn more takes. A little split shot or two and you can work these beautifully on the fly rod- but they'd also cast on a light lure set up.


I'm always torn with this kind of fishing. I'm reluctant not to use wire, but with fluorocarbon you tend to get more takes from perch, while you'll also land the typically small pike that take a shine to the minnow. It almost goes without saying that you should also debarb the fly/lure so that if there is a mishap the thing will come out easily once the tension is gone.

When it comes to "prospecting" with the fly and areas where you can't spot pike and take evasive action however, the only option is a wire trace. This was just one of several fish we shared on small lures and bigger pike flies:




Again, I'm reluctant to reveal all because no doubt Jim will produce a cracking write up and I have no desire to steal his thunder. Nor is this anything new, because it's fair to say that there's always a lot more between and behind the lines with what I write here. I just cannot include everything. Don't get me wrong, I love the blog as a kind of quick-fire diary. But I cannot give away everything for free and nor would you want me to- unless you're keen on the idea of a fishing landscape almost devoid of "real" books or magazines.

I've been as critical as anyone in the past about the fishing magazines, but it is as vital as it has ever been to support the print media. To give you some inside perspective from my own world, the balance of my income from print writing to digital content has swung totally in favour of the latter in the past three years. Part of this is because I write blogs for hotels and tourism these days. But in fishing the same is steadily happening. And while we all have to embrace change, we could be left with a world devoid of printed words if we're not careful, which would be a huge shame. Remove the rewards and standards will drop with the world of advertising holding all the ace cards, it's as simple as that.

It has been almost an ironic twist, therefore, that having written for the fishing press for over a decade now, I finally have a weekly column in the Angling Times! Yes, I know I've been outspoken once or twice before, but to their credit they have freshened things up with the new look magazine and even found space for an oddball like me. The Far Bank looks set to be a lot of fun. My remit is a sideways glance at the funnier and stranger aspects of the sport. This week's topic, for example, is all about the lure of dicey spots and dodgy casts.



I have lots more hot, strange and thorny topics to come in the months ahead, but if there's anything that amuses, perplexes or bothers you that you would like me to get my teeth into, do get in touch with me or drop the Angling Times a line!

Lure Fishing & Cold Lessons

There come times for most anglers where you get rather out of your "comfort zone." It's extremely healthy to learn new things, even if that sometimes comes at the price of a fall or two. It also means taking a few risks and casting where you never thought of doing so before- and that can be a confidence tester. Most recently for me, I've been well and truly tested but also highly taken by two challenges- one totally new (kayak fishing) and one I've returned to only to find a total revolution taking place (saltwater lure fishing).



Looking back, I think some of my better articles have come from this sort of leap of faith. It can be exciting if you shed this idea that "I have to be world champion/ highly experienced to write about this." Because in reality, it is only by jumping into something new that you can see things with a fresh perspective. Once you've done a method a thousand times, you forget all the seemingly daft questions you had and challenges that other anglers also face, not to mention the sheer excitement of it all. And yet this idea prevails: the writer has to be a total expert on everything they cover.

Here's the secret though; I am not. My writing and general fishing skills may have slowly developed, but there are still areas where I am like that kid in the tackle shop, peering at all the strange bits of kit in wonder. This is a great position to be in. Such has certainly been the way on recent lure fishing missions to the coast, where I've been scaling right down and watching experts like LRF wizard Andy Mytton with a keen eye, and more than once a sense of total bafflement.

Close control using cute rods. The neatest and freakiest of little lures. Bonkers presentations involving special split shot rigs, dropshot weights and knots I'd never seen tied before. I've thoroughly enjoyed lure fishing for most of my life, whether it's casting for pike or bass. But I've been blown away by the current light lure fishing scene- what is happening currently is little short of revolutionary and incredibly exciting. You can read some of my musings on the "joy of the diddy rod" in my Angling Times slot this week- but suffice to say there is a lot more to come and I am enjoying feeling like a kid again.



Perhaps my favourite recent catch, in fact, has been one of the smallest in the form of this sea scorpion. I'd both enjoyed and endured a cold spring session with the tiddly lures with Andy and the sight of this critter brought back great memories of childhood fishing off the rocks. Circa 1991, I was afraid to touch these fish. But they are quite harmless. Furthermore, if you are brave enough to place one in the palm of your hand you could get quite a surprise. Not only do they go all puffed-up and defensive like perch; they actually vibrate. I thought this had to be b****it at first, but it's perfectly true- it's like holding a fish that has swallowed a mobile phone! Must be a defence mechanism?


Other lessons from my trips are also stacking up quickly, whether it is a timely reminder that evening and night fishing are often better than daylight in the salt, and that it is well worth fishing low and even dropping tides for different species.

I guess you appreciate the smaller stuff even more when sport proves slow- but that's the great thing about lighter tackle: everything fights energetically, even a tiny pollack!



More to follow in print and online on various topics shortly, but suffice to say that at the moment it's very much a case of "the more I learn the less I know" on reflection. And I love it that way. Because I don't have to be a world expert to enjoy it and write about it any more than you do to try it as well. And the only way any of us gains real "expertise" in any area of fishing is to have fun, experiment, ask other people and generally get stuck in. The same has been utterly true of kayak fishing- where I'm still testing the water, not to mention my limits and balance, quite literally. Another dunking for me this week I'm afraid (note to self- while standing on a kayak is possible, it is highly advisable to stay sitting on your arse when casting!). Even so, I broke my duck with two Wimbleball rainbow trout in a short tester session! More on the Channel Kayaks site and blog shortly, along with listings for special kayak fishing days on the lake.



The only other news of note was a talk at the 2016 Barbel Society Show, where one of my main topics was this concept of new ground in fishing and putting yourself in the position of a learner. This was certainly the case for much of my experience with coarse fish on the fly, particularly the unusual species- including barbus barbus naturally. It's still one of the most exciting and tricky things I've ever done. But while I wouldn't advise the newcomer to start with barbel or zander or one of the other oddballs, they are all catchable.

In fact, perhaps my favourite backhanded compliment about Flyfishing for Coarse Fish of all time was a rather spiky review from a guy who wrote "anyone with a bit of experience could have done this." Totally. That was the point, wasn't it? To try new things and enjoy your fishing. Otherwise it's just an ego trip for the author.

It was a great show in the end, even though I felt a bit off-colour on the morning. I'd already had a bit of man flu, but also I partly blame Garrett Fallon for that "quiet pint" the day before which, in that wonderfully mysterious way, materialised into six, complete with a rambling converstaion on angling, politics and the meaning of life. We had a lovely afternoon's fishing on the Oxford Canal too, where he used a vintage cane rod for a spot of (I kid you not) dropshotting! The results we had were a big shock to say the least- but more on that another time. For now I'll leave you with a little glimpse of a classic canal and a rather classic rod: