Mixed Pickings

No matter how much or how far I travel in my fishing, there's something incredibly endearing about smaller adventures closer to home. I shudder to think how many interesting (and usually cheap) waters there must be in my own surrounding area, let alone the country.
The Ilminster Canal is a particular oddity I've wanted to try for a while. It was my right hand man on the forthcoming Canal Fishing book, Russ Hilton, who tipped me off about the place- and joined me for a cast yesterday. Remarkable for it's tiny size, the history alone is curious: a colossal failure in commercial terms, the Chard Canal was a case of poor timing and bad investment. It was meant to stretch for many miles, but after severe decline, the two hundred yards or so of water known as the Ilminster Canal which you can see today are all that remain.

Not that this is so unusual. There are various little isolated remnants of canal dotted around Britain- many of which feature in the new book. For the angler, a these little dead ends also have advantages: with no boat traffic and effectively no joining waters for fish to go missing, fishing clubs can and do have some real fun with fish stocks. The Ilminster is no exception, holding carp, goldfish, tench and even chub. It was the roach and perch we were after on a morning session however.

It was a cold day in the end. The bigger fish weren't active, although I started to make up a tidy little net of roach on maggots. Russ comfortably must have doubled this on bread however, catching plenty in just a few short hours. Actually, it's always interesting comparing notes with a pal on an unfamiliar water. In hindsight, I rather went for broke trying to catch some different species- but just couldn't find many bonus fish, even trying chopped worm or corn. Even so, this handsome perch gave me an epic tussle on delicate tackle intended for roach:

Other highlights included the rather friendly park cat, Sam. A bit of an attention seeker this one, he's so popular with the locals I reckon the old devil probably eats about five dinners each day:

Considering it was bitterly cold at times -and we also had a dose of thick hail- this was a really enjoyable little session. But for the sake of variety we also hit Dillington Pond in the afternoon:

This is another good looking venue with a genuine surprise element. Russ set up lighter tackle and tried tares for the roach and rudd while I went rather less classical, using a stepped up pole rig to tackle the snags with large baits including worms and prawns in the hope of a bonus.

Nor did it take long to arrive! My rig would give Bob Nudd nightmares: a large dibber float, five pound line straight through and a forged size six hook. Going for broke with a whole king prawn, I hooked something strong that needed wrestling from cover in no uncertain terms. Imagine my surprise when a three pound plus chub surfaced!

Otherwise the fish were in slightly iffy mood. Nor can you blame them- the perch, in particular can't be too far off spawning, although I had a couple around the pound mark for good measure, while soaking in the slightly regal surroundings. The stately home here looks so old time, you half expect the Adams Family to emerge from the front door as the light goes:

I do love spring. If the temperatures are still a bit fresh, so are the colours! And we still have the whole summer to waste in style. My friends will readily tell you, I'm not really a target-setting angler, and my main aim this year is simply to soak it all in and find some fun detours. Talking of which, you can read about "Britains Secret Canals" in my current Angling Times series, which features the Bude Canal this week.

A Change of Attack

It's never a bad idea to have a plan B when it comes to a fishing trip. Especially a slightly speculative one, where you're not quite sure if conditions will be right. The original plan on my last outing was to target some large perch on Upper Tamar Lake in the company of Mr Garnett Senior. It probably had more to do with pure optimism than anything else. And we nearly didn't fish at all when on arrival one of the staff immediately decided to play the dreaded health and safety card: "people don't fly fish here, you can't do it" etc. Sadly you still get those at fisheries who are curiously anti-fly fishing. But after a long drive I wasn't about to give up. There were no rules stating this. Ironically enough we then asked to speak to his boss on the phone, who was a fly fisher himself and very keen on the idea of attracting more fly fishers to try for the coarse fish! Anyway, it was resolved- and out came the perch flies. And no member of the public died of shock or was impaled by a wayward cast (although we were in Cornwall, and the excitement might have been welcome).

It turned out to be a beautiful morning, but probably too early still for perch. The water was still chilly and there were very few signs of life close to the bank: the only guy getting bites on the lake was casting a good sixty yards. Even so, we tried a few places and options for a good four hours. Sunk lines and lures seemed the obvious way to tackle big depths, but I also tried a booby where snags threatened to catch our lures. It was pretty dead sadly- and the only perch I spotted was one of about four inches nibbling the tail of the fly at the end of a retrieve. A case of right place but wrong time? I think probably yes; a big volume of water needs time to warm up I guess, and bring the small fish and the perch who chase them into shallower water within double haul range. I would love to try boat fishing- but god knows what health and safety nightmare that could instigate. The universe might collapse. God forbid, someone might actually try something different or risk having some fun. There must be a rule about it somewhere.


So, what to do with a very pleasant but perchless afternoon? Simpson Valley were very friendly when I gave them a bell- and a catch and release ticket got our vote. A great shout because the conditions were wonderful: proper spring weather but with just enough of a breeze to ruffle the water and present a buzzer to marauding trout, which we could already see taking something at the surface.

Amidst the strange t-shirt weather, we found the fish quickly. As is so often with buzzer fishing, if you find the fish and get the flies to the right depth it's easy. Light patterns seemed to work best, and the fact that bites tended to come quite early after casting suggested the fish were shallow. Lightly dressed buzzers and skinny wet flies worked best, the real standout being a red ribbed Daiwl Bach:

We finished with fifteen fish between us, averaging perhaps a pound but very fit. You do have to be a little careful with releasing rainbows, so none of them was taken onto dry land, but all unhooked in the net. Plain sailing you might say, although as the wind dropped and it got disarmingly warm the fish did go deeper and we found the flies needed to be sunk a little better to keep catching. All good fun in the end and a lot of willing takers- perhaps with the exception of this little customer sitting in the margin, who sat there motionless:
He wouldn't have managed a rainbow trout but might easily have fancied snacking on some of the mating toads we watched, clumsily paddling the margins. Isn't spring magic?

Taking Stock

As the first signs of spring start to flirt with us, I've been busy gearing up for some hopefully better conditions with some new arrivals. Priority number one has been my site (www.dgfishing.co.uk) which has undergone a revamp thanks to Marc Hogan (hoganwebsolutions.co.uk), who comes highly recommended for any of you who, like me, are not the most technically minded. Do take a look! There are new things to order, but also some great free content including some more features from the archives. Perhaps the one that makes me smile the most to this day is "Gudgeon at Ten Paces" - a piece that the late Kev Green took on. Some editors would probably have ruled it out as a bit daft, but Kevin was of that scarcer type who can also laugh at fishing and embrace something quirky.

Also on the updated site are some more of my photos from the past couple of seasons. I don't think any keen angler ever regrets taking too many pictures- and recently I got a couple of favourites beautifully rendered as canvas prints from Canvas Design (www.canvasdesign.co.uk):

I'm quite blown away by the quality- and in fact looking at them sitting on my wall I'm wondering why I didn't do this earlier! I've also been in touch with Conrad at Canvas Design and they can also offer a discount for any anglers and photographers reading this- just use the code "fish15" for a very cool 15% off. Why not treat yourself?

Otherwise it's time to make some new memories soon by sorting out the horrible tangle that is the garage and filling some fly boxes with ammunition for the warmer months. The Southwest Fly Fair at Roadford lake was a great event to get the ball rolling, and I was proud to be on hand with Turrall to tie some of my predator flies that feature in their new range of "Flies For Coarse Fish". When you use flies time and again you get real confidence in them, but I did also like the set up displayed by our neighbours the Arundell Arms, who had a neat little "test tunnel" to show how your flies move in the water! Very cool- here's a pike special tied by Pete Wilkins, captured in motion:

Also at the show were various other stands and personalities from the region- but it was a particular pleasure to meet wildlife and fishing artist Robin Armstrong. He has such a personal connection to nature and our rivers and it was a pleasure seeing him at work. In fact my only regret is that I didn't take along my copy of "Dartmoor River" to be signed, which is an absolutely beautifully illustrated angling book.



Spring is undoubtedly my favourite time of year in fact. Everything feels optimistic and no matter how poor the weather might prove in march or April, there's still the whole summer ahead. And while the rivers close shortly, I can't wait to get onto some still waters and canals in particular. This time of year can be brilliant for big perch in particular, but it's also not too long before a little sunshine will encourage fish like rudd and roach to come up for flies on still waters. Time to get tying- or indeed just grab some flies from my site, they're virtually all in stock now on my site. Ok, sales pitch over. Feel free to shoot me, but just make sure you go fishing and drink in the spring.

I'm going to do exactly that, while I also drink in this rather splendid bottle of Californian IPA, a gift from my globe-trotting girlfriend Paulina Mroczynska. What can I say? Perfect fisherman's booze. I'm one lucky bloke and you know my style:

Pike, perch and prawns

Unlike other sports, one of the really fantastic things about fishing is that it appeals to all ages. If you get the bug, it doesn't matter whether you're six or eighty six. What is the best age to be an angler? There is something magical about taking youngsters fishing. It always takes me right back to my own childhood, so it was my great pleasure to host for Michael Pryor and his son Raphael at the weekend for a spot of pike fishing. A hearty walk was in order, with flies and lures dropped into every likely corner.

I loved their enthusiasm, which was certainly called for on a testing day, not to mention Raphael's laughter and endlessly entertaining questions (typical example: "Could a pike of 100 pounds eat one of 99 pounds?"). It turned out to be one of those days where we only had a few chances- and some dodgy luck, especially with a nice fish of around five pounds lost at the net for Raphael. If anything, this only seemed to fuel his enthusiasm even more. By the close of play he was casting like a pro and still marching on in search of bites. If one day I have a son of my own I only hope he is half as keen and such great company as this.

Otherwise, I've been back on the trail of perch. I had an enjoyable session with Russ Hilton at Simpson Valley, which seems a great little mixed fishery at the moment, if a bit of a drive on the backroads. I'm doing an increasing amount of mixing methods, by which I mean putting a pole to good use, but stepping tackle up and using quite big baits. Prawns are one offering I've never really given a fair trial, so I persevered with them this time.

Usually in February, I'd be trying the deep water on a small lake- but with it being so mild lately, the perch have been turning up really close to the bank, or typically just where the water deepens. It was to be a fun session, but also another one of near misses. I was getting so many false bites at one point, I switched to just a small piece of prawn and the culprits were revealed. Not only did I bag a three pound bream and one or two nice roach, but this rather handsome hybrid. Not a monster perch, but some very welcome variety:

After enjoying some good bites I then threw down the gauntlet a little and fed heavier, with chopped worm and prawns. The real regret was a solid perch that fought well and came off just when I was getting the upper hand. Russ fared rather better than me with a brace of two pounders (I'm sure he'll enlighten you on his excellent "Tales from the Towpath" blog shortly if you take a peek). My best fish was somewhere round a pound and a half- but was at least proof that prawns have more uses than cookery. Actually, it was an absolutely perfect looking creature, a real pin up of a perch! I think the day I get tired of seeing these is the day I give up fishing:

As for the most random sight of the day, I'm still rather puzzled as to this rather strange use of a gentleman's neck tie. Is this of significance to someone? Perhaps a marker for an angler's favourite swim? Is it art? Or did someone simply find it lost and helpfully hang it on a tree for its owner to find? I have zero idea. Not really my colour though.

Happy Returns

If 2014 might have started in pretty grim, flooded fashion, I'm at least glad to report one or two reasons to be cheerful this week. The BFFI (British Fly Fair) is always an event I come away from feeling more inspired. As usual I had my little stand, my books, flies and the rest. Attendance was definitely up on 2013 and it was a pleasure to meet so many anglers. Whether I make a profit or loss at these events, I'm always totally buoyed by meeting readers who enjoy what I write and keen to have a good discussion. This is more rewarding than any pay cheque I have ever received.

Things were so positive at the show in fact, that I didn't get around as much as I might have. Nevertheless, there was plenty going on in my little corner of the show alone. One thing I love about the event is how friendly people are; you quickly get on with your neighbours and before you know it, you're taking turns to keep watch or go on a quick coffee or beer run after taking requests. I had great neighbouring stand this year with John Fairgrieve (google him!), the modern day equivalent of a taxidermist who makes vivid casts of fish from photos and measurements. There were all kinds of fish on his stand, from salmon to pike. This was my favourite though:


Perhaps that perch put a message in my head because it had been way too long since I'd done any classic perch fishing- or any serious fishing at all, coming to think of it! Also back on the warpath was Chris Lambert, who was also missing his fishing and keen to make up for lost time. The original idea was a quick stroll on the canal, but it quickly materialised into most of a weekend.
The Grand Western was tough work, but as beautiful as always. The first hunt was not for pike, but simply clear accessible water. Tyrone Norah also joined us through some big puddles in the country lanes- some of which seemed to reach quite high up on the side of his little car! Nevertheless, we made it through and enjoyed a laid back session. I always like the accidental photos from days on the bank- and this one captures the bond between Chris and his faithful hound Pep really nicely. When not picking fights with dogs about six times his size, Pep can be observed watching the water with an excitement he can't quite contain:


It was great just to be out, even though the fishing was something of a slog. Chris and Ty skipped between small jigs and drop shotting, but even this was hard work on the day. We managed just four jacks all afternoon. A fly fished fairly slowly proved just the tonic in fact. The best fly on the day was my own "Tango". Loud definitely seemed the way to go.

If that was just a quick cast, we decided to do a proper day at Stafford Moor on the Sunday. With my kit rather disorderly, it was a case of an early start and scrabbling around in the garage to summon what was required. As it turned out I needn't have worried though- it was one of those rare, sunny days out where everything just seems to fall into place.
That said, the perch fishers were out in force and the fishing wasn't especially easy. We tried prawns and small live baits to no avail most of the day, although it was fun to take turns on the pole to pass the time, catching skimmers, roach and rudd.
Ultimately, our winning strategy came from every-helpful fishery boss Andy Seery though, who suggested we have a crack at Pines or Woodpecker lake just after the end of Sunday's match. It sounded ideal- and from experience I know that pike fishing too can be excellent at the end of a match. All those groggy fish, along with free bait dumped in? Just has to be a good time for perch. And so it proved.


Just as the light started to dip, Chris had an absolute belter at just an ounce shy of three pounds! This was quickly followed by another just a little smaller. With conditions looking perfect suddenly, I ditched my worm rig and opted to pole fish a small live bait. Earlier on I'd caught some tiny roach in the landing net, and using the pole I lip hooked one of these and lowered it right under a fishing platform. After a few minutes of loose feeding pinkies, the float surged under and I struck into a good fish.
Fish like these are sensational fun on the pole and it was a wonderful battle. At 2lbs 6oz it was the best perch I've caught in a little while, and a great way to rekindle the fire.

Some like it Wet

My apologies first of all to regular readers of this blog, I know it has been a little while. Must be honest though: I can't think of many winters in living memory that have been less inspiring for fishing. Perhaps it's good to take a breather now and again though, even for a fanatical angler. The last trip I made was about a week ago and was more about stretching my legs and catching up with a friend.

Central Tiverton is not the most romantic spot at the best of times, but miraculously the river didn't look too bad. Must have been a day or two before the floods kicked back in and tried to drown the whole Westcountry. I'm glad I packed a pretty old, cheap match rod- because somehow I managed to trash the tip section in transit. Russ Hilton was good enough to share the honours though, as we took it in turns to trot maggots and have a good gas about everything.

Hardly electric I'm afraid, but it was good just to sit by the river again. A funny spot is the Exe in the People's Republic of Tiverton. There are odd dace and grayling here, but I missed the occasional bites I had, while Russ managed to land a couple of stray trout. Not bad ones either- silvery things in decent condition and better than a blank.

Meanwhile, with every last detail finalised and chapter proofread for the next book ("Canal Fishing: A Complete Guide") I must admit, I've felt like I needed a holiday from both writing and fishing. Is it enjoyable scraping together an existence this way? Bloody hell yes, but you have to treat your passions gently sometimes. Even the things we love most can get jaded, unless you give them some space to breathe. Which is why this flooded, gale force mud-bath of a winter is a perfect time to do exactly that.

Yes, obsession is a trap. There is a world out there beyond the damp corner that is fishing. There are people and beer and friendship and poetry and life. Some of you might envy those guys who seem to live permanently on the water with a rod. I personally don't. I know many editors and hacks in the fishing world who will tell you the hidden story of the most hardcore obsessives- and in many cases it is a lifestyle of loneliness, tinned food and haemorrhoids. What is the unlikely moral I'm trying to drive at? Sometimes LESS fishing actually makes for more enjoyment. Habit is the great deadener- and it's actually meant to be fun, remember?

My favourite recent haunt has been well away from the river in fact. It is Exeter's brilliant new bar, The Beer Cellar, at the top of South Street. Together with some other reprobates, I'm attempting to taste the lot, one bottle at a time if necessary. You've never seen a more outrageously varied selection of fantastic brews in your life, from crisp pale ales to the violently strong "Tactical Nuclear Penguin" (no kidding) at 32% proof. You have been warned. The line between drunkenness and enlightenment can be a fine one.
Other than my excursion to the Exe though, the only fishing related arrival has been the new range of "DG Flies For Coarse Fish" made by Turrall. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to have a range of anything in my own name, so this is a lovely surprise (to be added to my site in the next few weeks- but in the mean time try "Trout Catchers" who have most of the range for sales already). I'll be shooting up to the BFFI (British Fly Fair International) this very weekend to put these on show, along with my usual wares. It should be fun- and when the weather is this shite, having a proper social and meeting up with new and old friends should be just the ticket.

A Tough Call

I spoke in my last update of the impossible task of judging a contest which includes a stack of different species, with all manner of sizes and scenarios. Talk about a headache! I had the most supportive of angling stars to help with Matt Hayes and John Bailey on board, both really keen fly anglers themselves and generous in their support. The trouble was, each of us had a different fish in first place, so it was down to second and third slots in the end. A huge well done goes to Geoff Hadley for his first placed bream, which wins a leather bound collector's edition of "Flyfishing For Coarse Fish" worth a cool £150.

How does a fish of four pounds beat others several times that size? There will be some who disagree, but the whole idea of the competition was about the fun, skill and challenge- not necessarily the figure on the scales. Every one of the panel agreed that to sight fish for bream and pick a fish off with a wet fly was a brilliantly unorthodox catch- and the captor hooked and lost another on the very next cast! Definitely a catch to demonstrate what is possible with a little imagination. So often I feel that the biggest barrier to such fascinating, convention-busting sport is in the angler's brain. But if you don't try something, how do you know it won't work? I feel like we've opened a door already with the "Fly for Coarse" project- and the more people give it a try, the wider this door will be flung open.

I have to say, I'm a little surprised that one of the huge pike captures didn't win outright. We had both John Machin (above) and Andy Cheetham, each with pike of over thirty pounds! Hugely impressive captures and they will both consider themselves a little unlucky, but at least grab themselves a prize for being high on our list.
The selection was also bolstered by plenty of other great entries. Mr Dorr's five pound plus chub on a dry fly is a wonderful capture too- as were several others. John Bailey's favourite was this double figure carp, caught on a sinking daddy longlegs (below). A fantastic fish, no doubt, and one that I think he wanted to highlight as an inspiration for modern carp anglers to try something a little different:

Anyhow, the headache of picking a winner aside, the competition has been really refreshing and thought provoking. I hope it at least shatters a few illusions and represents an ethos that's slightly lacking at present. A bit of fun and unpredictability surely can't go amiss? Talking of fun, I've just received the first of several nice mouthfuls intended for chub this summer, which I've designed for Turrall. This one's called the "Jasper" (a wasp, for those not of Westcountry bias):

And fun was also the main agenda for my last trip as I searched for somewhere not resembling trench warfare to fish. I surprised my old man with a pole fishing set for Christmas, which needed a decent trial. Say what you like about commercials (and most people do) but they do keep fishing regardless of muddy, horrible conditions. I tend to pick the ones that aren't purely stuffed with carp- and Shillingford is never too bad for variety. Even on a pretty cold morning, the first hour was good, although in typical style the very swim I wanted for the perch was bagged by a bloke who turned up at the identical time as us but had the foresight to whack his stuff down to reserve the peg. Never mind, the bites came quick- and the fish, while not huge, were nice hand sized roach and perch, the sort you would happily catch all day any day.


The carp inevitably made their appearance as we kept trickling the feed in. Dad was thrilled to bits with his new pole, (the romantically named 6m Browning "Pitbull") that provided some fun with the roach on the light top kit, but serious stopping power for some margin carping. The gift was just the thing in fact. When we started fishing as tiny kids, it was he who plonked a fibreglass whip in our hands; quite nice to return the favour three decades later with a more up to date pole!


Meanwhile, I also enjoyed a bite filled pole session. Why oh why do folks still fish with alarms and bolt rigs for match sized winter carp I wonder? I find it baffling, seeing as you'll catch twice as many on lighter, balanced tackle- and actually enjoy a bit of a battle. Our kit was typically 4lb rig line to a 3.3lb low diameter hook length, followed by a wide gape size 16 hook and a worm or two maggots. A little hempseed didn't seem to hurt either in holding both carp and decent roach in the swim. All good fun I guess, although I am already pining for spring and watching some fish rise so I can break out the fly rod properly.