Why Me?

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This was the second or third thought to enter my mind within about half a millisecond as I drifted quickly downstream.

The day had started so well, the rain had finally eased, the river had shrunk back within the confines of its banks and I  was out hoping for an early season sea trout. With still a great deal of water in the river I was fishing something fairly sizeable, a creation of arctic fox and aluminium tube, swimming it through all of  the  likely looking lies. I managed to land the tube into the branches of an overhanging blackthorn tree. Hooking trees is part and parcel of fishing in  these parts, if you don't hook the odd one or two you are not fishing in  the right places, I like to think I am fairly adept at releasing them. On this occasion the subtle approach to fly release failed, unfortunately the slightly more physical approach also failed with the leader parting near the fly line.

I don't like leaving fishing tackle on the riverbank, it annoys me, the tube had separated from the hook and was fluttering on the breeze halfway down the trailing leader, taunting me. Having fished the lie through already I elected to wade across and fetch it, I knew this lie well, I had waded here before, alas perhaps not with quite so much water in the river. I managed to edge my way across the stream in a diagonal direction and made it to the bank perhaps 5 yards or so downstream of the offending bush. From the safety of the bank I could see the fly but not reach it, blackthorn threatening to shred me or my waders to pieces should I decide to clamber through the bush. There was nothing else for it, I re-entered the river upstream of the branches and made my way downstream towards my goal.

Perspective is a weird thing, from my fishing position the fly looked no more than a couple of feet above the water line, now that I was below it I realised that perhaps this was going to be a little more testing. I began stretching and pulling at the base of the branches trying to find the branch harbouring my hook. Scratched and skewered by the thorns, at full stretch, with one hand securing myself to the riverbank I just managed to get a fiingertip on to the base of my branch a full 3 feet below the fly. The minuscule vibration from this first contact was sufficient to dislodge the hook that just 10 minutes earlier had withstood all my efforts to shift it. With a plop the hook hit the water right by my feet and I watched as the arctic fox wing sailed merrily down stream.

It was at that point that my 'safety branch' that had held me safe up until this point decided to let go. A backflop - like it's more famous relative the bellyflop, but less graceful - perfectly executed my first thought as my feet bobbed to the surface and I began my rapid journey downstream was 'maybe I can catch up with my fly and leader that drifted this way'. I think the 'why me' thought came shortly after as the river entered my jacket via the neck.

I never did find my fly...

Derrick

Spring - blink and you'll miss it!

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Well the season has finally arrived in these parts. Opening day dawned cold and foggy, one of those days that numbs the fingers and produces that bead of dew that is impossible to remove from the end of the nose. Needless to say fishing was slow, the tactics deep and slow and the fish playing hard to get.

Things change quickly at this time of year and the Westcountry brown trout being opportunistic feeders quickly respond to these changes. High pressure and rising temperatures over the last few days and the river feels like a completely different fishery. The wild flowers of spring line the riverbank, insects are hatching and water that looked dull and lifeless just 7 days ago seems to now sparkle with vibrancy.

A week ago I was plumbing the depths with tungsten beaded nymphs, scarcely a fin moving. Now, with the warmth of the spring sunshine occasional fish can be seen rising, not in the numbers to suggest that its time for the dryfly but certainly sufficient to raise the anticipation.

The duo rig, a lightweight nymph suspended below a dry, produces a steady trickle of fish. Some fish showed the signs of a long winter, lean and a little tarnished, it shouldn't take too long to recover condition. Also I encounter salmon smolts, young salmon making their way downstream to their saltwater feeding grounds, a really encouraging sign for the future.

Salmon smolt, already adopting the silver jacket.

A succession of fish in the 6-8 inch range succumb to a pheasant tail nymph with the odd fish to the dry and then whilst searching out a deep run I strike to a twitch of the dry, the 2 weight flexes deeply to a strong, more substantial fish. At 13 inches its no monster, but a decent enough fish for these parts and in cracking nick.

And this is how springtime fishing goes, conditions are quick to change with the fish quick to respond. It is all about being sensitive to these changes and of course enjoying just being back on the river after a long closed season.

T minus 387

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There are 387 hours until the start of the fishing season here in Devon, not that I am counting or anything. Fishing never stops here but it does slow down, a few days at local stillwaters, a bit of pike bashing and occasional forays away after grayling but on March the 15th it kicks off properly.

Between now and then I have some serious fly tying to do, I seem to have fallen behind somewhat in my plans to restock the boxes from last year and to tie some new patterns ready for this year's adventures. There is much still to do, so far I have been concentrating on the heavyweights, tungsten bead nymphs and big streamers. Next up on the to-do list spiders and dries.

Copper headed hare's ear nymph. A go to pattern for early season.

Coneheaded bugger, for big waters.

I am now also getting out and about on the rivers I fish looking at how they have overwintered, it is amazing how much they can change in a few short months. Contrary to much of the South and East of the country which is already in drought, our rivers are full. Last year seemed a wetter than average year in North Devon and this year has continued in a similar vain, the local rivers really look in good fettle.

This is the time of year that sees me making my resolutions, New Year's Resolutions are so clichéd, new season's resolutions are what its all about! Firstly this year I want more adventure, more days fishing remote or seldom visited waters and more nights under canvas. Researching, planning and preparing for fishing adventures is nearly as much fun as doing them and this winter I have not been idle. I have some beauties pencilled in including fishing waters that have quite possibly never been fished before and a more adventurous slant on a popular foreign fishing destination. I can't wait to get started!

Secondly I plan to really develop my tenkara fishing. Tenkara is an ancient technique used by subsistence fishermen in the mountain streams of Japan. It is something that is in some people's opinion a bit of a 'fad', for me I think it is a technique ideally suited to some of the moorland fishing I enjoy. I really want to spend a lot of time developing my skill with this beautifully simple technique. I will write more about this soon.

Tenkara on the Itchen in February, not exactly what it was designed for but good fun nonetheless.

So that's it from me, more to come soon, in the meantime why not tell me about your resolutions for this season, it would be great to hear from you.

Derrick

Ps less than 386 hours now...

How do you eat yours?

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The subject of killing fish is an emotive one, I have known anglers almost come to blows over the subject. I kill fish, for me it is a part of my sport. I don't kill many, by far the majority of my catch is returned but occasionally I want to take a fish. When deciding whether or not to take a fish I apply two personal rules. First and foremost the fishery must be able to sustain the loss of that fish. Secondly I must be sure that I can do justice to the fish by producing a good meal for me, family or friends. I think there is anything more damaging to our sport than the thought of fish being killed for nothing more than a trophy or a weigh in. When I kill a fish I feel I have a duty to produce a worthy meal from it.

So, with that in mind, I thought it might be worthwhile to post a few recipes that have served me well over the years. I have always cooked a bit, from an early age under the tutelage of my Mother, but I am no chef, so don't expect anything to cordon bleu. I am not claiming ownership of any of these recipes, I may well have unwittingly robbed them from any of a number of sources. So first up - Thai Style Trout:

I first tried this recipe with fillets of bass but I prefer it with trout.

1. Finely slice garlic, ginger and deseeded chillies, amounts can vary to taste, but I usually go for 2-3 cloves of garlic, 4 cm of ginger and 1/2 to 1 chilli depending on how adventurous I am feeling.

2. Add the chopped goodies to a good glug (is that a culinary term?) of soy sauce and a splash of rice wine vinegar. This is the marinade / cooking sauce for the fish.

3. I usually go for a trout of a couple of pounds in weight, cleaned and slice the flesh 3 times on each side, I am told this helps the fish cook evenly, I don't know, but it certainly helps the marinade seep into the fish. Place the fish on a sheet of foil and pour the marinade over it and into the cavity. Fold the foil to form a loose, watertight parcel.

4. I leave that for a couple of hours before baking in the oven - time and temperatures dependant on the fish size. 25-30 mins at 200c should do for that 2 pounder.

5. I like to open the parcel at the table and take the fish off the bone. Serve with some stir fried veggies and some sticky rice. Spoon the cooking liquor and chilli / garlic / ginger over the fish.

If you like the sound of that why not give it a go? Let me know what you think, better still if you have a favourite recipe why not share it? Email me (info@adventureflyfishing.co.uk) and I will post it in a future blog.

Enjoy.

Adventure Fly Fishing UK, as seen in...

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Do you remember a few months ago I told you about my day out with Simon Dawson a writer with a well known magazine? You can find my blog about it in June on the list to the right of your screen. Well I am very pleased to report that the resultant article has appeared in this month's (October) edition of Devon Life Magazine. I am really pleased with it and proud to be featured in such a prestigious publication.

Simon was a great student, we had a lot of fun, it is quite clear from the article that he thoroughly enjoyed his day. I think it is fair to say that fly fishing was not what exactly he had expected, I think he had anticipated a day sat on the bank of a lake watching a fly drifting about unmolested for hours on end. Of course, we know it is not at all like that, the fish played their part and we had an exciting, tense few hours as the fish chased, swirled, nipped and grabbed quickly moved flies in clear water.

You can almost see the excitement as a fish stalks Simon's fly.

The magazine hit the shelves a couple of days ago and I was probably the first person to buy a copy, Ok I will be honest, I bought 3 copies! Have a read for yourselves, Devon Life Magazine is available at all good newsagents, now! Best be quick before I buy the remaining copies!

Derrick

To Autumn

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Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness,

Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;

I am sure you weren't expecting to find a bit of poetry amongst these ramblings but this time of year always seems to bring the romantic out in me. This season has me thinking about bonfires in the garden, harvesting the remains of the vegetable plot and chopping wood to see us through the winter. The fishing can be pretty good too. With freshwater in the river this time of year can offer the best chance of a salmon, the trout in our streams are gorging themselves in preparation for leaner times and the fish on our reservoirs are starting to think about a higher protein diet and ganging up the fry. But there is no getting away from the fact that the winter is getting ever closer and so this time of the year sees me thinking about pike.

I met up with my mate Mark Bailey yesterday for a foray after pike on Chew Reservoir. Those of you that have followed these blogs for a while will know Mark, a fellow AAPGAI instructor, caster of razor sharp loops and pike nut. Mark's fishing CV is an unusual one, he started life as a pike fisherman, baits and lures, fishing all over the country, catching hundreds of pike and then one day he decided he wanted to catch them differently and picked up a fly rod. I doubt there are many British fishers that have pike as their first fish on a fly.

A bit like Grizzly Adams but with a fly rod.

Chew is a premier trout fishery that happens to hold a good number of coarse fish and pike, including some seriously big ones, both Mark and I are convinced there is a British record pike in there somewhere. Which is why we keep coming back. But the presence of pike poses a problem for those that manage the fishery. On one hand their core business is trout on the other they have anglers coming from all over the country to fish for the pike, by fly during the normal fishing season and then by more conventional methods on specific days through the winter when the fishery is normally closed. The bonus for the fishery owners is that that these fish are wild, not stocked, therefore free. The problem is the trout fishers are catching less fish and fish damaged by predators and they blame the pike. And so there is a conflict. The trout guys want the pike removed, the management don't want to risk losing the revenue from the pike guys, so to appease the trout guys they stock more fish. More fish = higher overheads and potentially more fodder for the predators.

Tackling up at the carpark I took the opportunity to chat to a couple of trout anglers, it was really interesting to hear their point of view. ' They put over 80,000 trout in here last year, 36,000 were caught, what happened to the rest? over 40,000 disappeared'. I can't vouch for the figures but I could certainly see how disillusioned he felt about the way the fishery was being run. I thought better than suggesting that perhaps the majority of those 40,000 were still swimming around the reservoir as opposed to every last one of them consumed by the marauding hordes of pike. These guys were considering not renewing their season ticket next year. 'The management are talking about netting the pike out, but that's all they do is talk'.

I can certainly appreciate these guy's point of view, but I can't help feeling that there is more to it than a simple need to cull pike, I say this as both a pike and trout angler. There is a school of thought that says that the pike in Chew are feeding predominantly on the coarse fish doing little, if any, significant damage to the trout population. I suspect that the truth lies somewhere between both camps. To cull pike, or remove them to another water, is to tinker with a delicately poised ecosystem. I can't help thinking that the solution should involve addressing a whole range of issues, stocking densities, average weight, feed prices, ticket costs, pike and cormorants (we saw over 300 on the water yesterday). Also I think the question needs to be asked, what is it that the trout angler wants? After the doom and gloom of the car park chat I went to look at the recent statistics, the rod average this year is over 4 fish per rod. I don't have the figures to prove but I would suggest that the average weight of these fish is considerably more than it was ten years ago. That doesn't sound too terrible to me. What do anglers feel is a fair deal for their day ticket? It would be interesting to hear from any of you if you fish this fishery, or indeed any others where pike also hang out.

Anyway, back to the fishing. After our chat we were half expecting to be beating the pike off with an oar. Unfortunately it wasn't like that, far from it. We saw a couple of fish roll, we had a couple of tweaks and one fish follow Mark's fly to the boat and that was about it. We cycled through the colours, the depths, the areas but all to no avail.

just a few patterns to try before we call it a day

An interesting day, despite the lack of fish, we will be back soon to try again. In the meantime it will be interesting to see how the argument develops.

we like them big, BIG!!!

Fly Fishing Devon - on a bike. Part 5

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After a troubled night, with the noise of more heavy rain drumming on my bivi bag, I awoke to a beautiful sunrise and enjoyed breakfast with the rare feeling of sun on my face. I had an appointment this morning with the guys at the Westcountry Rivers Trust at their office, some 25 miles away, so as tempting as it was to stay, I had to get moving. Today was the reward for yesterday’s grind up onto Dartmoor; a glorious freewheel for almost 10 miles off the moor and down through Tavistock.

Across the River Tamar and into Cornwall I very soon arrived at Stoke Climsland, the home of the WRT, to be met by the Director Dr Dylan Bright, Angling Development Officer Dave Chapman and the rest of the staff. Here, over a very welcome Cornish pasty and a beer, I learnt more about the work of the Trust. I am not going to go into the work that this charity does here, I will post seperately on the subject later, suffice to say they are a key player in much of what has happened to improve the watercourses and fisheries in the Westcountry since it's creation in 1995. Take a look at their website www.wrt.org.uk

Suitably refreshed I pushed pushed on for the finally few miles to the banks of the River Inny, a tributary of the Tamar. As I set up for the final onslaught I talked to the farmer who owns the beat, he told me about the numbers of sea trout and salmon that run the river late summer given a good spate. However, a good spate is something this river had not see for many months. It appears that Sunday's rain fell only on me. I hobbled down the steep valley to find the river running low and gin clear, 'about as low as I can remember seeing it' said the farmer.

I spent a few hours working my way gently upstream fishing the New Zealand rig or single dry flies, casting to free rising brown trout. I had hopes for a grayling today, alas they failed to put in an appearance. It was a fitting end to my 5 rivers adventure, obliging trout, beautiful surroundings and a warm sun on my back. I have no idea how many fish I caught, it's not important, I have no doubt that my reactions were blunted by 5 days of pedalling, but I do know that I savoured every last second on that lovely beat until it was time to wind-up and make my way slowly (very slowly) up the steep hill to my lift home.

Derrick