From Drain to Drain

A busy old time of late- so many plans, so little time. But when I can't decide on which, I usually opt for somewhere quiet. Such was today's plan for the Levels. Conditions were poor though- bright and sunny. In my writing I'm probably as guilty as anyone else at identifying the best conditions- but more often than not we're not at liberty to pick our free time and so the conditions choose us!
The King's Sedgemoor Drain was very slow. As dead as my herrings in fact, although I covered a lot of water and was probably the only one roving outdoors hoping for darker skies. Plenty of pikey spots covered, but pikey spots do not always equal active pike. A quick move was in order and I fancied the pretty South Drain (above), a water I'd admired but never fished. Another long walk led to just one bite and a shy one at that. The line hardly moved before I struck and something screamed about twenty yards off! A ballistic fight and a very long fish of twelve and a bit pounds. The pike are still skinny, angry customers- and with the awkward banks here all I can say is thank goodness for unhooking mats.

Otherwise, I have been enjoying other business, including my new found role as a bailiff for Exeter and District AA. I asked to see the permit of one oik walking along HOLDING A BLOODY FISHING ROD who said "I'm not fishing". He was either carrying out some kind of surrealist mime then, or was the world's worst liar. Either way, he was politely told to bugger off and not come back without a permit. Some people!

Rocket from the Cripps

Sunday, boring Sunday. No encouragement required to shoot off to the Somerset Levels again for some more pike finding. Had a look at The Huntspill, South Drain and Cripps River (which isn't actually a river) today. The best bit? Taking a long walk and seeing nobody in sight for hours. The closest I got to being harrased was a herd of very curious cows, who seemed intent on studying my fishing tackle and eyeballing me.

The Cripps was particularly enjoyable- shallow as a boy band and very weedy. Deadbaits were a dead loss frankly, but a quick throw with soft lures got some interest. It was one of those days though- lots of jacks, few properly hooked. Partly because it was so weedy I took the treble hook off the suspending Storm Shad they took a liking to.
The pattern seemed to be little clusters of pike with long empty spaces in between. Finally though, one pike stayed on, taken by dropping a deadbait in front of a fish that followed a lure in but wouldn't take. An utterly ballistic fight too for a fish of five or so pounds, a very skinny brute that looked in need of a few more roach for lunch.

A long way from being a red letter day then- but what a fantastically peaceful place to roam. And on the walk back I saw the unmistakable shape of a barn owl swooping over the trees. Magical.

Lessons from Cider Country

Fishing is an odd sport sometimes. You don't always get what you deserve. Sometimes you can fish for just a few casual casts and get a result; next week you put in maximum effort for very little. Which has been the story of the last week.
The Somerset Levels looked prime for a long walk and hopefully a few pike on the Kings Sedgemoor Drain. I love these drains and long venues- not convenience fishing, but rewarding for those prepared to search far and wide. Sadly it was one of those days when conditions looked perfect but only a handful of jacks were prepared to have a look- just the one made it to the bank, from perhaps a foot of water by a bridge, literally right under the rod tip.

Otherwise, the only real lesson was courtesy of Rob Darby, on the dangers of cider and falling down wet steps the day before. In the above picture you might be forgiven for mistaking the lad for a pikey hobo, rather than a pike fisherman.
The only other action (or lack of it) was a trip to a very soggy Chew Reservoir. The trout were surprisingly absent to fry patterns, and the pike not especially active either with just one jack and two other knocks on decent sized pike flies. The water level seems alarmingly low at present, ruling out some of the usual features, and some areas seem muddy too. Perhaps no surprise that all the bites came on brightly coloured offerings. What a foul day too! My kit is still drying out as I type this...

September Fest

What a gloriously mild September it has been. Can still be a good time to fish too, with a bit of effort and the use of shanks pony. Today was an early start on Exeter Canal near Turf locks for pike- for the sake of avoiding human traffic as well as for fishing reasons. I opted to fly fish and wobble, whilst fellow Sunday escapees Rob and Neil went on lures. Bites were not exactly numerous, but well worth the wait. A six pounder was first up, going ballistic after snaffling a fly intended for perch sheltering under boats:

Catch of the day was definitely Rob's 13 pounder though (pictured at the top), the reward for getting stuck into some seriously overgrown swims. Well worth soggy trousers and nettle stings I'd say! The fish gave a spirited fight after grabbing a rubber shad. The bank was so overgrown that I literally (blush) had to get Neil to hold my ankles to reach down to the water and release the fish properly- oh well, a decent fish deserves respect, even if my dignity takes a dent.
The other highlight was Neil's discovery of a scrawled list of random mania clearly written by the sort of goggle eyed lunatic you might try to avoid at a bus stop. A little case uncovered a hotch potch of pub adresses, bizarre observations and remarks about spotting people "dogging at Lime Kilns". Nice.

Other than these pikey goings on, Dawlish also provided some fantastic kicks for fly rod bass. On the small side generally, but over a dozen schoolies to home tied sand eel patterns can't be too bad- rod jarring takes and scrappy as heck on a trout rod:

Big canal perch on fly

I'm quickly coming to the conclusion that the fly is a seriously underrated method for perch. The Grand Western Canal was tricky this morning, but I found a small group of good perch and was eager to see how my new patterns would fare. These stripey ones proved as cagey as any trout I've stalked too- keen to have a look, but getting a solid take is another matter. It's thrilling sight fishing- casting into the path of a fish and employing a busy but slowish retrieve. Eventually I managed to pick off a really decent sample that could have comfortably eaten the previous catch!

The fly was my own prototype, making the capture doubly satisfying. The "perch special" is bigger than a trout fly but not as huge as a pike pattern- a little fritz, white marabou mixed with Orvis Angel Hair, and a nod to tradition in the form of a juicy red wool tag. I'll probably now have that smug git look for the rest of the weekend!

Any fish, any fly

It really is possible to catch just about any species on a fly with the right approach, and aside from the slog of carp angling, it has been a case of short but enjoyable sessions on canal and river this last week. You can travel so light that even a couple of hours after work can prove worthwhile.
Today was the Exe after pike. I must admit, my catch was a fish previously spotted by Rob Darby that was following but refusing to take his plugs. A slower moving pike fly did the trick perfectly- the harder part was getting this fit river fish into the net. I never like to play them too long and after a short but robust tussle we had her on the mat. Thirteen pounds and beautifully proportioned- not a bad start to the pike season?!!

Otherwise Exeter Canal has been a fun adventure with flies- despite funny looks and daft questions ("are you fly fishing?"). Perch are proving fun on little streamers and lures, whilst the roach and rudd are taking little buzzers and hares ears- something with a bit of red seems especially useful. It is all essentially sight fishing, with a four weight rod. If you think trout are quick on the take, these rudd are lightning fast! I have a feeling the odd bigger fish are deeper, but plenty of pretty samples are delightful sport on a brook rod, a tiny hares ear as effective as anything on a warm afternoon.

Things that go thump in the night...

Finally, the blanks are giving way to runs on the carp front, albeit on an easier water I hasten to add. After another gruelling night on the cut it was time to try Darts Farm ponds- smallish, but attractive lakes and at least the chance of a fish or two.
Goodness me the carp fisheries around Exeter are getting busy! I was surprised to find Darts busy as hell even on a week night, the main lake lined with pods and bivvies. In situations like this I opt for the weediest, least popular corner going, in this case the far end of the smaller pool where I hoped the pressure would be less ridiculous. A wise move for a change.

Two fish came during the night, both to homemade boilies created with a dose of potent liquidised peeler crab. Bingo! At 1am I had a dogged fish on that refused to be bullied- a 16lb mirror. Sadly the fish had some tail damage. The pristine fish came later at the silly time of 4am, a really powerful common that took me all over the lake on a light set up. This is why we wait- for that manic few minutes of action and the glorious feeling of a decent fish sailing away in the darkness. For all the carp fishing hype and busy waters, a solid common is still one of the most beautiful fish there is. I left the fishery tired but satisfied- the main lake had been deathly quiet.