In Memorium

It's been hectic recently. My second child, a boy, was born a fortnight ago so priorities have shifted somewhat along with my time being taken up in fatherly duties and of course that's how it should be. However, I'm sure I'm not alone in getting itches when I don't escape for a short length of time - such is the draw that flowing water holds over me.

I was fortunate enough to have been able to take part in a friendly match in memory of Gary Hyde who sadly passed away last year. Although I had only spoken to Gary a couple of times, his posts on the flyfishingforums were always ones I wanted to read, generous with his knowledge and always friendly.

The match had been arranged by Danny and was well attended by many from the northern region; myself and Tom represented the south. The match was held in Sheffield on various parts of the River Don. Sections of the river were split in to beats, thankfully there were no fights over the stretches, Tom and I teamed up and headed to the beat that conveniently was closest to where we had all met up - no worries about finding parking.

After a short five minute walk we arrived at the river, damn did it look good. Peering through the undergrowth, we spied a fish rising on the edge of a seam, in the middle of a lively run. Trampling our way through balsam and bramble progress was slow but we eventually worked a little way downstream; conveniently we found ourselves and the bottom end of another tantalising pool. As Tom had already set up he had first dibs while I quietly tackled up on the side-line, we both chose to fish a french leader although later on Tom changed over to the duo and single dry; we used each others rod depending on what tactic would suit the particular piece of water we had in front of us.

It only took a couple of minutes and half a dozen casts before Tom landed the first fish of the day, a grayling, from there on we took turns catching a fish each and passing the rod over - not the most efficient way to catch and yes although it was a competition of sorts, we were happy to be there. We both believe fishing like that is really fishing with someone, rather than both fishing near one another but not actually fishing with each other.

Tom's first fish

Our pace was slow as we worked upstream and I'm sure we could have covered a lot more river by the end of the day, but there wasn't really any rush and it was great just to be fishing somewhere different - I have only fished the River Don twice, both were winter trips, the last being a short three hour session curtailed by persistent rain and rising water.

Overall we fished a tad over half a mile of river concentrating on the faster sections working our way through some superb pools. The thing that amazed us was the sense that you weren't fishing in the middle of a large city, the river was tree-lined for the most part and apart from the occasional building butting up against the river bank it was easy to forget where you were.

White bead head pheasant tail nymph, tied with melanistic
 pheasant tail, courtesy of Matt Eastham

Pink bead head nymph, brown partridge for tail,
biot body and Hends peacock spectre dubbing

 Most of the fish fell to small tungsten bead-head nymphs, normally I tend to only use copper beads of various sizes, this time I stepped out of my comfort zone. A white bead pheasant tail nymph as tied by Matt Eastham who drew inspiration from Gary and a biot bodied nymph with a pink bead were the stand-out flies of the day; it will be interesting to see if flies with brighter beads would work on my own club rivers which run much clearer. What we found interesting was most of the trout we caught fell to the pink bead nymph whereas the white bead nymph picked up the grayling, although I suspect this was more to do with the flies placement on the leader than the colours of the beads.

Despite it raining most of the morning we encountered rising fish, although we couldn't really see anything hatching off there were plenty of chironomid shucks floating past; later on the we fished a small hatch of second brood large dark olives - smaller than the spring hatch - but perfectly imitated by a size 16 Barbour paradun, the fish taking the midges were occasionally fooled by a size 24 (old size) black klinkhamer, we generally found the fish taking the midges particularly difficult to deceive.

We finished with seventeen fish each, the ratio was probably two-thirds grayling; Tom caught the biggest fish, a trout of 15", unfortunately the fish didn't want its picture taken and I only managed to get a snap of it right before it fell out of his hands.

As an aside it was the first time I used a new wading jacket that I received as a birthday present. Extremely well priced, a snippet at £39.99 delivered from Caimore vie eBay and it performed exceptionally well. Despite the continued rain I didn't get wet except for when I failed to put the hood up. If you want performance at a reasonable cost then I seriously recommend you have a look at this jacket.

Largest fish of the day, just before Tom dropped it

Sculpins

I have been wanting to get a fur coat for quite a long time, the reason, to tie up some bullhead/sculpin patterns; it is the most effective way to get a large quantity of fur on hide. I haven't fished with streamers for a few years but now I'm beginning to tie some up I can't wait to trow them out there among the monsters; of course the smaller ones eat them too.

A simple fly really, I have used a Daiichi 2546 salt water hook in size 4 with a double layer of medium lead wire superglued and flattened with pliers to create a wide but slim profile. The main body of the fly is a zonker strip cut from the hide - you can see the shape of the body in the pictures below - the lead is covered with dubbing to match the hide, with a small hot-spot of red to imitate the gills. The head is fur cut from the hide and spun in a dubbing loop or split thread as I have done. Trim the head and zonker body to shape. You can add some barring using a dark brown marker pen, brush the fur when the ink has dried.

Of course there are some elements missing - I don't have any eyes to attach to the fly and I haven't tied anything in for the pectoral fins - I doubt it will make much difference and maybe the next few will incorporate them.

My forum name isn't sculpincrusader for nothing!!

Inpursuitofspotties is on Facebook

For those who are on Facebook but weren't yet aware I set up a Facebook page just before the season started, it allowed me to post quick snippets and pictures where a full blog wasn't necessary.

Please take the time to follow the link inpursuitofspotties and like my page to see the latest news of my fishing escapades.

Urban Bonanza And A Strange Evening

Another lunchtime finish on Friday - I think I've only fished once in the morning before work so far this season. Tom was working at home and would be joining me later on, I had already planned my afternoon and knew where I wanted to fish.

There is a section on the urban river I fish that remains relatively untouched, this is because it is penetrable; concrete banks encased by a canopy of tree branches and a barricade of brambles at the top of the banks, means it cannot be fished from the bank. During the early part of the season you can see a good number of fish before the leaves obscure the view so there ought to be fish around. Fishing here also gave me an excuse to use my much favoured six foot rod, that said side casting would still be the order of the day.

Walking downstream to just beyond the trees I spotted a rather nice grayling, at least for this part of the river. Easing into the river above the fish; obstructions meant a traditional upstream approach was impossible. Standing in the edge of the river I quietly set up while allowing my surroundings to settle.

Ahead of me and across the far side a fish rose directly above a small bush that hung over the river's surface. Unable to refuse a rising fish I tied on a quill bodied cdc shuttlecock, a small trout threw itself on to the hook. The rises stopped after that, but I guess a fish is a fish.

Turning around and moving downstream a little I took the shuttlecock off and replaced it with a Utah Killer Bug, I find this a devastating pattern for grayling all year round. First cast landed the fly upstream and to the side, I watched as the grayling drifted side-wards and engulfed the fly. A firm lift gave way to the sinuous gyrating fight so typical of grayling; held in my hand it was a pristine male fish of about thirteen inches, defiantly holding its dorsal up, a great start.

Climbing back out of the river a very short walk took me to the beginning of my intended spot, a cautious clamber down a four foot concrete bank started things off. I spooked a couple of very small trout that kindly shot downstream as I waded slowly over to the left bank. Ahead of me a branch thick with leaves blocked my view, using it to my advantage I stalked forward using it as a screen. As I stood behind the branch I could see two fish a couple of yards in front. With the UKB still tied on I executed possibly one of the shortest bow and arrow casts ever, a small grayling intercepted the fly as it drifted towards me. Pulling the fish downstream quickly and releasing it allowed me to repeat the proceedure, landing another small trout.

Unable to see clearly in to the water ahead of me to took off the UKB and tied in a size 16 All Purpose Terrestrial, with all the cover any fish ahead of me should be used to small things dropping in the surface. Wading slowly up produced a few more trout with many more spooked, the low slow flows not helping things, perhaps I'd be better visiting earlier in the season, normally the river here moves along briskly.

At the very top a small weir forms a convenient boundary, it is often quite productive but again the low flows and excessive weed made the pool virtually inhabited except for a plump ten inch fish which was the biggest trout from the urban river.

I moved upstream to another weir, this one generally being very productive. As I reached the pool I could see a small group of roach holding station in quite a flow over gravel in shallow water. It was one of these that I caught first, not big but absolutely perfect. Then followed a succession of small trout and another good-sized grayling that disappeared before I could take a picture. As I left the pool my tally was thirteen trout, three grayling and a roach, superb sport.

Walking back towards the car a spotted a couple of large trout milling about in an over-wide, slow section of river. Keeping low on he high bank I was crafty enough to get the klink and dink out near one of them, as the JP Pupa slowly sank I watched as the fish swam and sucked in the fly. Despite my fly line hanging over a thin branch it didn't impede in the strike, though maybe it did as the fly fell out after a few seconds, I was pretty gutted really that fish was easy over two pounds, oh well I don't win them all.

By this point it was time for me to meet Tom, after a fifteen minute drive I arrived at our bottom-most fly beat; I waited a while before Tom showed up. We walked the end of the beat, I had changed rods, taking my Lexa with me and intending to set up a french leader, Tom had his 8' four weight and opted to fish dries, we agreed to use which ever rod suited the particular bit of water we were fishing.

After faffing around looking at the very bottom end of the beat we settled on a short glide below a pool on a sharp bend. We saw many small dark caddis fluttering in little swarms, Tom tied on a dark deer hair winged caddis with a hares ear body. After many casts and a couple of missed rises, Tom caught a grayling, a great start for him. I fished a lot of water before I too finally caught a grayling using the French leader, another followed; although we had seen trout, so far there was not a sniff from one.

It wasn't until we fished a deep pool did we see the only trout of the evening. Tom had fished first without success and I persevered eventually being rewarded. Using the French leader again I changed the point fly to a 3mm tungsten bead JP Pupa, the pool being particularly deep. Although the fish wasn't huge at sixteen inches it was very welcome and provided a great scrap on the three weight Lexa.

More than satisfied we skirted a lot of river, most sections are bank to bank weed and low flows meant a lot of water was devoid of fish. Arriving at another deep pool, we could see many fish ahead of us against the light sandy bottom. This pool is quite long in comparison to most on the river, what I'd consider a proper pool in the traditional sense, though it doesn't have a shallow tail. The grayling frustrated Tom, the trout were still conspicuous in their absence but he did manage a couple more grayling. After unsuccessfully trying the head of the pool a large trout shot past as we waded through, really should have put more effort it.

By now it was getting dark, we tried a pool that has fished well previously, last time I fished there, there was a cracking medium olive hatch. With the river so low and lacking flow the dynamics of the pool had changed, either way nothing moved and we walked up on to the riffle above. Ahead of this was a long stretch of generally uniform channel and flow. The light had almost gone, Tom and I have been talking about glow in the dark flies, a la Glen Pointon. Tom was the first to experiment, a glow in the dark post klinkhamer the first offering. More just to see what the fly looked like on the water Tom had half a dozen casts in the smooth water ahead of us. One drift was quietly interrupted by a tiny rise in the middle of the river, Tom lifted in to the fish and we were both left in shock as the rod jagged ferociously, the line parted quickly, the only evidence that remained was a boil in the surface that faded as it drifted down in the current. That concluded the end of our evening, on the walk back to the car we couldn't help but talk of that fish and the comparative absence of trout, a rather strange evening.

Urban Variety

A planned trip to Bedford to fish a section of the River Great Ouse called the New Cut didn't quite go to plan. Having fished here in the past and caught a wide range of coarse species I have always used bait, I really wanted to use a fly and from what I remembered of the river French leader techniques would work well. Arriving with fevered expectation I crossed a bridge and was greeted by a strong clear flow; the river looked in fantastic condition, the gravel sparkling, the ranunculas bright green and swaying.

Scouting several spots I found a dark pool, its depth dark and inviting, feeding my imagination at what might be cruising in the shadow. Unfortunately while looking at a notice to check the day ticket prices I found to my horror the stretch was now season ticket, feeling a little devastated I had to quickly change plans; I didn't have £43 for the ticket, nor the inclination to pay that either as I doubted I would fish here enough to warrant the cost.

Tom was due to meet me in Bedford as he works nearby - a major reason for choosing the venue - I told him about the change of plans and I headed in the direction of our club waters. Knowing Tom would be a couple of hours behind me I headed towards the urban stretch. We fished there on Sunday evening during persistent rain and didn't fair particularly well although we didn't blank and I caught a rather nice brownie. Due to all the rain during the afternoon, on top of what had fallen over the last few days the river was coloured and became murkier during the evening.

A dark trout from Sunday evening

Arriving at the river I was pleased to see clarity had returned with an increase in flow the river has been desperate for. Setting up with a Hends camou leader on my Lexa I headed towards the pool below a surface water outflow. I could see a number of dace, trout and the occasional perch and chub, nothing particularly big, the largest trout perhaps going over a pound.

As I set up, the surface became alive with rises, with the fish cruising around the pool taking invisible items from the surface. With this change in conditions I chose a size 20 CDC shuttlecock - simply tied with an olive dyed peacock quill abdomen, a tiny ball of dubbing at the thorax and finished off with a healthy tuft of CDC to keep it afloat. After missing a couple of speedy rises the first fish landed was a feisty dace followed by pricking two other fish, the pool went quiet after that so I moved on.

Next to the outflow a bridge spans the river, the water running below flows over a smooth concrete bottom - not known for its fish holding properties. A tall sloping weir ends directly above the bridge, many holes within the weir slope create upwellings at the base. I spotted a trout earlier in one of the upwellings while looking down from the bridge, it was big enough to have noticed. A few casts into the boiling water with a JP Pupa saw the indicator stop as it traveled downstream, a firm lift attached the fish to the line. Despite the shallow water the fish stayed close, using its power it tried the reach the safety of the hole at the bottom of the concrete weir, the Lexa subduing every lunge and surge. Once in the net I was left surprised at the size of the trout, great condition and a chunky handful.

A small trout caught from the outflow pool after the larger fish from under the bridge.

Above the weir the river is canal like, constricted within concrete banks, ribbon weed grows from the silted bottom - this is coarse fish territory. There used to be a great number of trout in this part of the river, many over four, five pounds, in the past I saw even bigger, those days long gone now. I could see quite a number of roach as well as a couple of chub and trout. I managed two roach before everything refused to look at the flies.

Roach are a rare capture for me on a fly, this was a nice example.

A Short Afternoon In The Rain

I finished work at lunchtime on Wednesday; after an almost shocking evening on Monday when Tom and I nearly blanked I really wanted to give a new section of river a real go.

The river is quite narrow here and the bank side vegetation encroaches on the water taking up more room. As I arrived it started to rain - the occasional shower drifted over during the afternoon - but thankfully it wasn't particularly windy allowing my to use my six foot two weight.

Due to the intimate nature of the river this far into the season I opted to keep things simple and nothing is as simple as a single dry-fly. I have found the trout to be free-rising, even if nothing is hatching. I've been so impressed this season by the effectiveness of Bob Wyatt's Deer Hair Emerger I find myself automatically reaching for a size twelve to tie on my tippet; it is fast becoming my one fly - for fishing in the surface at least.

One that Tom lost

I started above an almost impenetrable tangle of trees, ahead of me lay a tantalising run, clearer and more open than the rest of the river I fished. Tom hooked a lovely looking fish after we spotted it rise on Monday. A well placed cast in the same area saw my DHE confidently taken, much to my surprise it didn't turn out as big as I thought it was but nevertheless I was off to a start. I spooked a small fish as I walked upstream passing through a veritable jungle, certainly no chance of catching that, not with a fly anyway.

Passing under a rail bridge, a pool the other side underneath a sycamore had a couple of rising fish Monday evening. No risers this time but that didn't stop a feisty fifteen inch brownie from taking the fly. A quick couple of pics and I moved on round the corner.

The river now set into a series of small pools and deep holes sectioned by short shallow riffles. Each little hole or pool generally relinquished a trout or two, but some failed to provide to the expectation given, maybe next time those empty spots will yield.

The river can be very intimate in places

I fished for just over two hours and caught twelve trout, a rather pleasing result especially considering Monday's near disaster.

A good fish leaves me puzzled

Here's and interesting one for you. A fish I caught on the 1st July is a repeat capture of a fish originally caught 15th May. I had measured the fish at 17" using measuring markers on my rod and working out the length at home with a tape measure; incidentally the trout weighed 2lb 6oz and was in great condition. I caught it from a small hole in and undercut bank with overhanging vegetation.

The 'old' lair

In peak condition

Unassuming and easily dismissed

The place where I caught the trout yesterday is 250 meters upstream, which I guess isn't far in real terms, but still a long way from what could be considered a prime lie. It's new lie is a slow deep run with undercut banks either side as well as the expected overhanging vegetation. I hooked and lost a superb trout on the 3rd of June in the same lie, but I'm not so sure this is that same fish; the one I lost looked a lot bigger and I got several good looks at it before it broke off. My regular fishing partner Steve also hooked and lost a fish - the same one I think - and we caught that on camera.

Steve hooking and losing a big trout

I have tried to tempt this fish every time I have fished this venue - without success. Yesterday I found it feeding steadily on small items in the surface film. Not seeing anything in particular drifting past me.

Some footage of the trout feeding

 I tied on a size 16 All Purpose Terrestrial. It only took a few casts to tempt it, having learned from my previous loss I kept the rod tip low, so low it was often underwater; it fought hard, though not as hard as the one I lost. It wasn't until I sent pictures to Steve that I found out it was a repeat capture - he spotted it of course, I didn't even think this would be a fish from downstream.

Paul Proctor's 'APT' All Purpose Terrestrial

Using the measuring markers on my rod, I worked out at home it was 18 1/2", now I'm no biologist but it's safe to assume a trout is not going to grow an inch and a half in six weeks; strangely though the trout appeared to have lost weight and wasn't as plump as before - I need to refine my measuring techniques.

All that remains is to see whether this is the fish that haunted me or there is another, bigger one laying in the undercut.