I’m always at a loss as to what to do at this time of year, you just know the rivers would be in prime condition but the closed season on flowing water ensures that the barbel and chub remain safe. Tench or bream would be a viable target but most of the waters around my way are either just poor or not open until mid-June. I knew I could get a few jobs around the house done and win back some Brownie points, but to be honest DIY really isn’t my forte. In fact, it’s been said that when it comes to carrying out work on my house, I’m more Bradley Walsh than Tommy Walsh – and I really couldn’t disagree. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I decided to attend the FM Fly Fishing Fish in and decided that before I went along I should get my fly-casting arm in again. I rooted around the garage to find my old fly gear which hadn’t seen the light of day for about four years. I fitted a couple of new braided loops to my 10 year old mill end floating and sinking lines and I was ready to go. Well I would be if I could find my flies. I hadn’t the greatest collection known to man but enough to ensure I was covered in most situations. The biggest disappointment was that a friend who lived in New Zealand had sent me a batch of his ‘specials’ which were the most wonderfully realistic dry flies you could ever imagine. A selection of pretty damsels, grasshoppers, daddy’s and moths that looked like they would fly out of your box were amongst my favourites, but alas I fear I have seen the last of them. I have a sneaking suspicion that I lent my fly box to a budding fly angler, who promised to return them but never did. If this is so, and your reading this, then send them back you miserable sod! So I took a trip to Ted Carters in Preston and bought a couple of dozen well known stillwater patterns and a new fly box to put them in. A few buzzers, a handful of nymphs and the regulation ‘cats whiskers’ and ‘fritz’ patterns should do nicely for a days spotty bashing. I was joined by my mate Steve, who like me had not fly-fished for a good number of years. I was hoping he would have plenty of flies but his box was far more barren than mine. And, he made me put braided loops on his line, lazy or what? We rolled up at a small lake at about 9.00am, it appeared to be pretty new and still in the process of being reclaimed by nature, it was also quite small; no more than perhaps a couple of acres in size. We were pleasantly surprised to find only one other angler present when we arrived although it did get busier as the afternoon wore on. Both Steve and I both decided to go straight for the biggies and start on a ‘cats whisker’ and a sinking line. There were fish topping in the areas of rippled water but I’ve always found the bigger fish tend to respond to a deeper worked lure. Although I’m sure a lot of trout anglers, a lot more experienced than me, will disagree though. I was first to draw blood when a small brownie took time out from terrorising the resident stickleback population and savaged my lure a couple of feet from the bank. If there is one tip I would give to new fly fisherman is to never end your retrieve prematurely. Work the fly right to the very last second, it’s amazing how many takes you can induce with the fly inches from the end of the rod tip.
Steve and I both then took a couple of small fish before he had a firm take on the drop, the line pulling through his fingers as he counted the weighted CW down. He shouted across that it was a good fish and about 5 minutes later it was ready for the net. With the fish a couple of feet from the rim his fly pinged back over his shoulder and incredibly the stupid fish glided straight into the waiting net with no hookhold whatsoever. Obviously I then had the unfortunate responsibility of telling him that it didn’t count, but he was having none of it and I’m sure you can guess the nature of his reply. It was actually a lovely fat fish and he quickly popped it on the scales, we were both pleased to see it was a new PB for Steve at 7lb-14oz. As neither of us are too keen on eating trout and had both bought ‘sport’ tickets he was slipped back none the worse for today’s mistake, although we knew in all probability he would still end up on a barbeque somewhere later this summer. By now the breeze had got up a little and on a small water especially, trout really do seem to follow the wind, so we made our way to the far bank of the fishery where the wind would be blowing in our faces (Steve said the wind had been blowing in his face on the journey down there, but that’s a different story!). Although the casting was much more difficult when facing the wind, my generally poor casting technique became even poorer but there were definitely more fish in front of us, the swirls and flat spots in the ripples, and the aborted follows we were receiving testified to this. By facing towards the field and away from the lake and by letting the line ‘drop’ backwards over my shoulder I could get a decent distance but we did look funny casting towards the sheep. For some reason Steve didn’t see the funny side when I suggested he try a woolly bugger. He seemed to think that would get him locked up for some reason. I’m sure Ron ‘The Hat’ Clay told me that kind of behaviour was acceptable in Yorkshire…
By now we had about half a dozen fish each and I changed my lure for a white creation with a yellow head. By taking off the chain-eyed lure and retrieving as soon as I had cast, I figured that I’d cover the trout working just sub-surface without needing to switch to a floating line (yes, lazy I know) and this did seem to work. Three or four fish in quick succession seemed to justify the change and with a few minutes left on my ticket I had a fast take off another decent fish. This one really fought well and in the water looked considerably bigger that Steve’s earlier fish so I was hopeful that my previous best rainbow of six and a half pounds would be bettered. I’ve got to say it was a great fight on my 10 year old, thirty-five quid ‘Shakespeare’ fly rod but the 6lb Krystonite leader held firm and a splendid looking rainbow was soon gazing into my landing net. It turned out to be a new PB at 7.12 but I was gutted that’s Steve’s fish was bigger, you’ve all been there I’m sure. Although I still maintain his was ‘scooped’ not caught fair and square !…am I bitter or what? It was good to try chuck out a fly again and even though it isn’t something I could do all the time, it is a nice diversion, especially at this time of year when you can be at a loose end. Now I’m looking forward to the forthcoming fish-in at Press Manor, where I can test my lure dragging skills against FM’s more accomplished and traditional fluff chuckers. Why not come along and have a try yourself – after all if a noddy like me can snare a few spotties, there’s hope for everyone. |
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