Fishing for Murray Cod

Early in 2019 I was fortunate enough to be fishing in Australia. I was invited by Dean Cooper, who is head of Tourism Australia’s sport fishing division to fish in Tasmania ahead of the World Championships (another story) and then to go to northern New South Wales to fish for Murray Cod. I had no idea as to what to expect of the Murray Cod, though, having a subscription for “Flylife”, in my opinion, the best fishing magazine around, I took out some back copies and gained a little insight.

I met Dean at Sydney airport and then travelled up to Armidale on the same flight as him. We were met from the plane by Josh Hutchins and his fellow guide Micky. Their truck was already loaded to the roof – and beyond….but we just about squeezed our luggage and ourselves into it. We got know to each other during the journey to the creeks we were to fish – an interesting trip as it took us through a few villages that had been burnt out by the recent and still ongoing bush fires.

Eventually we reached our destination and visited the farmhouse of the creek owner, but found that he was away acting as a volunteer fire fighter, so we went and dropped our luggage at a most comfortable set of cabins and then went to town to buy the groceries and beers and have a salad and coffee.

On our return we went back to the farmhouse and met Michael and Kay, a lovely couple who own the land for a fair way around. They were so welcoming – I found that Josh had been there before doing a video shoot with my client and friend Jeremy Wade. Michael had done the general guiding through his creeks for that, and so the catch up chat was interesting. Eventually we set off to do some fishing, and in spite of such hot temperatures and cloudless skies, we actually found water. It amazed me that these creeks had water in at all, never mind that there was plenty; the water wasn’t as hot as I would have imagined either. On getting out of the truck to prepare for fishing, the first thing that struck me was the fantastic smell of the bush! Smells, I think, are evocative for fishing memories; I certainly get transported back to distant venues when I recognise certain smells.

So, we set up our gear. Nine-weight rods, floating line, sturdy tippets – about twenty pounds. I was told to put on a fairly large black lure – similar to what I might opt for with pike fishing. Then, basically, fish the pool in front of you – the creeks being separated by rocks, narrow channels and dry sections. Vary retrieve, and fish the fly right to the edge. I was being guided by Micky, a very encouraging fellow, and not too long after starting we both noticed a swirl as I was lifting to re-cast. I did the lift in a roll-cast type of way as I probably would for pike, hanging the fly at rod-length out, but Micky suggested that I keep the rod tip down and really fish out the fly to the bank under my feet.

Three casts later I had a solid hit and soon had my first Murray Cod. The fish was stunningly beautiful and I was amazed to hear from Micky that this fish was only small. It seems that in this system they grow to well over a metre in length and can be over one hundred pounds! I believe that most British anglers wouldn’t give a rocky, tree-lined, semi-stagnant and weedy pool such as this a second glance. But, I was now well and truly eager to get amongst some bigger fellows.

A smaller fish followed, but, I had by now been instructed to change to a popper, and I this had induced several other slashes, though no more hook-ups. One or two of the swirls were from decent fish. It seems that this is a common feature, and in fact ties in with a lot of popper fishing that I have tried, both for pike and for saltwater fish…lots of action, but not so many hook-ups!

We headed “downstream” to try another pool, but, after giving it a fair go, a thick mist descended and as with most fishing that curtailed our sport for the evening. We headed back to Michael’s farm house and had supper. Little did I realise, having been so engrossed in the fishing that it was now well past midnight.

So, it was after one before I managed to drag myself to bed, and just four hours later was up again to have an early morning assault on the cod. We had coffee and a bite at Michael’s and set off. Tackling up in the Australian bush as the sun rises , with the sounds and smells of the surroundings is a far cry from the trout fishing I am used to. I could easily have walked around looking at the variety of birds through my binocular, or just sat there listening to Australian bush awake, but, I was there to try to catch Murray cod, and so, with the same popper as the night before, I set to it.

Action was instant, with slashes, hits and swirls. We even caught a few fish. Everyone was having a go apart from Michael, who had taken to walking along with me and chatting. Michael had spent his life fishing these creeks. He is mostly a spin or bait fisherman and used to, like most locals, take the cod for food. They are very tasty. But, as the numbers of them declined he realised that they were in trouble. In many parts of Australia, this iconic fish is critically endangered. In this area though, largely due to Michael’s work, the fish are making a recovery. We had a great time walking along chatting and I learnt so much about the ways of rural Australia. Michael would have forgotten more about the wildlife that the grew up with than most people know. It was a great education for me.

We fished through the morning, moving a few times to different pools, and steadily caught fish. Once the sun was high, the others changed to sub-surface lures, but, as my popper was producing plenty of action and enough fish to keep me more than happy, I saw no reason to drop down.

By about one o’clock, it was announced by Josh that we would look for a decent pool for a swim and to have lunch next to. No worries about crocs in this part of Aussie, so in we went. It was a delight, though, getting back out and having to walk on the rocks with bare-feet was quite a trial as they were so hot. Michael produced a griddle and soon had a fire going, and in no time some wonderful steak sandwiches were being devoured. The rest all took it easy…I guess the “mad Englishman” couldn’t resist the midday sun, so, I went exploring and photographing wildlife and just taking it all in. After all, when will I be able to return?

We fished on until we were exhausted, hungry, and certainly ready for an ale or two. Somehow or another I managed to catch either twelve or thirteen Murray cod, but had action almost the whole day on the same popper. The others caught fish but in smaller numbers. Beginner’s luck…..

Another fine farmhouse meal followed, along with some most desirable ale. Bed was so welcome!

Next day was almost an anti-climax as the fish just didn’t seem to respond too much. Sure, we all caught some fish, with Josh managing a really nice one that had attempted to “eat” a fish that Dean was playing, but, generally things were much more quiet. I had one chance at a really large fish, but, sadly, I didn’t get a good enough cast at it. There were few opportunities for sight-fishing, though in many creeks it seems that this is the way that the guides operate.

Josh and Micky certainly needed a large truck – I mentioned earlier how loaded it was when we met them at the airport. I discovered that apart from huge amounts of photographic gear, fishing gear and personal stuff, they also had an inflatable boat, and a drone. The drone was used for both aerial shots and to explore further afield than we could drive. Interesting! We fished from the boat next day – both Dean and I went out with Micky, whilst Josh fished from the shore. Dean and I both had a nice fish from the boat, and several other hits that didn’t hook up. But, the action was not as compelling as I would have expected.

So concluded a fantastic couple of days on Moredun Creeks. Should you find yourself in New South Wales, and fancy a different sort of fishing, Michael is your man. His email address is as follows:

[email protected]

Back to the reality of the drive back to the airport and on to Sydney. I was met there by my good old pal Bob Bell, and that led to a few more fishy adventures, both in the Snowies and then on the coast with Steve Bishop and his family. I may get to tell some tales about that sometime….

Cuba 2020

At May 31, 2020
By admin
In Events, Saltwater fly fishing, Travel
0

On Thursday 5th March eight clients/friends boarded a flight from Gatwick to Havana, much earlier than usual, but this was a great deal, as it would mean that our arrival would enable the travel to our fishing venue would be carried out in daylight for a change, and we would be able to get a snack and beer on our arrival. The flight was about ten hours, and we approached Havana from a most unusual angle, but soon were on the ground.

Customs checks as ever were slow and even those who travelled in the more expensive parts of the plane had a long wait. It was interesting that on our arrival in the customs hall, we were all “shot” by a thermal imaging camera, which we guessed, was to do with having our temperatures checked in case we arrived in Cuba with Covid-19.

Eventually I was through to baggage reclaim, which took another age, but I met several of my group at this stage, and then out into the meeting hall. There to greet us were Felipe and Lazaro. It was fantastic to see our Cuban friends again. We all visited the money exchange kiosks (I actually asked Mike to exchange mine as I went off to buy some beers for the trip to Caleton).

This was when I experienced my first surprise of the holiday. No beer! Due to the embargo on trade in Cuba, fuel was in short supply and so, although there was plenty of beer being brewed, transport to distribute it was difficult. I had to settle on a few colas, orange drinks and water. We stopped several times on the way to Caleton, but, it was ages into the journey before we found a bar that had beer!

Our arrival at Casa Nova Vida was most welcome, and we were treated like family, which I feel I am. The group were introduced, shown to their rooms and a while later returned to the veranda for a decent cold beer and snack. A reasonably early night was taken and in no time, we were back at the tables for breakfast.

The group comprised two newcomers – Larry and Kevin, three first time returners – John, Steve and Martyn, and regulars, Simon, Mike and Andrew. I must say that as the week unfolded I cannot remember any cross words between any of them and organisation was really easy. To say they were a pleasure to work with is an understatement!

All fished Las Salinas first day and every angler had a great start to the trip. Simon recorded a huge number of fish, whilst everyone else had at least five or more bonefish. The rum was good that first fishing evening….

Day two was building towards the wind we were to get on day three and so catches were down somewhat, but, our first tarpon of the trip was caught by John. Kevin also managed to land a decent barracuda.

We all struggled on day three, and at least two of the bonefish boats ended up just trolling to see what could be persuaded to take a fly. The guys who went to the river had a real struggle too, and only Simon managed to land a tarpon, though other were hooked.

Day four saw Steve and Martyn on the river, where Steve had a tarpon of around one hundred pounds and Martyn a baby one. John had two more tarpon out on the reef. The rest of the group had a mixture of success, but Andrew was “top dog” that day.

On the day off I took a few of the group to a lovely garden in the village where the owner puts out feeders for the birds. It is quite some paradise for many species. We were treated to great views of the smallest bird in the world – the Bee Hummingbird along with many other species endemic to this part of Cuba.

In the afternoon we ordered taxis to take us to the limestone swimming hole – the one connected to the sea via underground river, where several of the group swam, and then we hopped over the road and did some snorkelling in the sea. This area is quite famous for its scuba-diving. It was a great way to spend a day off, and I am sure that all of the group really managed to recharge batteries!

The remaining days flew past as they always do on these trips. The fishing remained excellent and although one or two of the group didn’t catch vast numbers, the quality of the fish was fantastic. I am certain that everyone in the group topped six pounds for bonefish, and there were some splendid “other” species caught, including some large jacks and snappers, barracuda and tarpon.

A great ten days came to an end and I escorted the group to the airport for their flight home and awaited the new group, with Juan Carlos as my “assistant”. It was not a quiet wait!

The second group contained Crooky, back for his tenth trip, James, on his second with me to fish Las Salinas, Steve, his first with me but second to this venue, and Rob, who had not visited this area before. The drop-off and pick-up worked really well and soon we were heading back to the new Lodge at Playa Larga. The rooms were great – I shared one with Crooky, and the others had singles. They were spacious, had good air-conditioning, decent fridge and were generally well equipped. Though, as with many places in Cuba, the showers were the let down.

I filled the group in about how fishing had been on the drive, and on arrival at the lodge, Felipe and Lazaro met us to go for a meal. The lads were just about able to stay awake for this, but took little to persuade them to an early night.

So, the second group set off on their first day fully prepared for plenty of fish and duly responded with loads! Steve, as he carried on every day had a “rake” of fish, Rob plenty and Crooky and James enough to enjoy their days. This was the pattern for the six days fishing. Overall the fishing side of this second week was fantastic, but, the Lodge presented problems, which worsened as the time went on. Showers became almost useless and we were all finding going out to a different restaurant each night a bit tiring, so, when on the fourth day we arrived back to find NO water in the resort at all, we were not in the least disappointed to find that Felipe was happy to transfer us to Casa Nova Vida and our “family” – Noraida, Alejandro, Raul and Islene. We enjoyed the home comforts much more with our “family” in Cuba.

This second group managed to catch an average of ten bonefish a day, and, could have caught many more had all of the group fished as hard as Steve. The fishing was really the best in all of the years that I have fished there and all (of both groups) had a great experience. The boats are fantastic and the guides are really wonderful. It is also good to see that Felipe and the company are introducing some “new blood”. Gavi worked with us many of the days and was fantastic. The anglers who went with him really enjoyed his manner and general way of guiding. He is undoubtedly a great asset to Las Salinas. Not to detract from the regulars, whom we love… Juan Carlos, Julio, Machito, Lazaro, Manolo, Roberto and of course Felipe.

I didn’t go to the river in the whole of the two sessions, and none of the second group were especially interested in that aspect. So, I cannot comment too much. But, I will say that the size of tarpon running this year was huge – in some ways too large for the gear that we take, expecting to catch “baby” tarpon.

Thanks to all the Cuban people who made our stay so great – the guides, the hotel workers, chefs, cooks, drivers, bar people and organisers. Lazaro, as manager in the resort was as before a delight to work with.

Thanks also to Aime who organises it all from Miami.

I am so hopeful that this Coronavirus clears up in order to allow us a trip to Cuba again next year. I have a provisional booking for March 2021. Fingers crossed!

Montana 2019 (part four – Madison, football Hyalite Lake)

At May 12, 2020
By admin
In Dry Fly, Lake fishing, Rivers, Travel, Uncategorized
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So our final fishing day in this region was a lovely one – warmer and not too windy. We set off to Quake Lake a little earlier. On arrival the lake was like glass and we were so optimistic that we would be there for a good hatch. This just didn’t happen for some reason. We started out with hoppers but, in my eyes they didn’t look right on a flat calm surface so I changed immediately. Kev called that he was into a fish – of course – on a hopper! I went walking and only saw one fish, though it was a good sized rainbow. I managed to get a decent cast and it took my fly. It ran strongly and I could not stop it. It went into a pile of weeds/logjam and I ended having to pull for a break. Back with the others, Kev had managed another fish and missed a couple, whilst Doug had hooked a big fish but had his knot unfurl whilst playing it.

The plan had always been to go to the river for the afternoon so off we went. First spot we’d been advised to try was Three Dollar Bridge. From the main road, the river looked amazing and we were full of anticipation as we took the side road to the parking area. It took us all of two seconds to realise this was not our spot as there were fourteen trucks parked there and anglers in the river both up and down stream. Back onto the min road, and the next pull-in was not so busy. The river looked good. So, we set up there. We changed leaders and tied new flies. In the meantime I wandered over to chat to a young couple who were setting up an inflatable boat in order to drift the river. They both said the river was in great condition and I should expect plenty of fish with at least one of 20 inches. Small flies would be good – and they proceeded to show me a size 10 Adams – I haven’t any of those larger than a fourteen!

I set up with my favoured Mladen Sedge and had a beautiful rainbow trout on a about my third or fourth speculative cast. What a great start and enough to give us encouragement. I made sure Doug had the right fly as he followed me up river. Next fish I had was a smaller brownie and then I went some way before any more action. I missed a couple of very fast takes – the river is extremely fast flowing, but it was a lovely spot to fish so I was loving it. I then saw a fish rise further out than I had been concentrating on. I lengthened my line and dropped the fly ahead of where I thought the fish to be. The take was instant and I didn’t need to set the hook as the fish did it for me. It went right out into the current in one mad rush and I then wished I had used stronger than 5X tippet! The fish was solid – whether in weed or a log I had no idea so I climbed out of the water and walked up the river to try to get beyond some trees on my bank and get the flyline above a couple of boulders. Now, from an upstream position I managed to get some movement and soon the fish was in clear water. The fight was then soon over, though, with no net, it was a hard task getting the fish to hand as the current in close was rapid. The fish was spot on 20 inches….just as the young ones had suggested we should catch!

I didn’t need any more fish so walked back to see how Doug was going. This was a bit more difficult for Doug and he struggled to get a decent line out and control its fast drift back towards him. But he carried on manfully.

When I went back up to fish some more I was a bit put out when another angler came down the bank and proceeded to fish – about ten metres in front of me. I was even more put out when on his fifth or sixth cast he had a decent fish on the end, though I think he lost it. I made a noise so that he knew that I was there, and to be fair he apologised saying he hadn’t seen me. But when he moved he only actually went another ten yards further up and started fishing again. I went to chat with him. He was from California and was dressed as if he was in the Arctic – he said he was freezing – we were all in shirt sleeves! He showed me his rig – it was a similar set up to “drop-shotting” as he had a small length of nylon with about five or six split shot attached and his fly on a paternoster. He was with his father who shortly after I moved on up caught a fish that he landed. They seemed to pick a spot and fish it for an hour without moving. Maybe they know better than we do.

I caught several more fish including two reasonable sized cutthroats from one small slack. But, I had a serious encounter with a large rainbow in a small side stream just before we headed off. The stream was shallow – no more than eighteen inches deep and it screamed fish – except that I caught nothing and saw nothing until I reached the very head of it. The take was unmissable and the fight was long and hard. The rainbow was stunning, and I struggled to keep it from leaving the side stream and heading off in the big flow into rapids below. As the fish came to my hand, it flipped off the hook. A shame that I didn’t get a chance to photograph it as it was probably the best looking fish of the trip! But there is a photograph in my head. I don’t remember having a harder fight from any fish I have caught! Kev and Doug joined me and fished a few small streams but, they were ready to pack up. Kev had caught some really good whitefish so was happy. Doug admitted it too tough for him!

When we left the river we stopped at a bar that seemed pretty popular. It was such a quirky place!

Kev and Doug outside :”Happy Hour Bar”

It was called “Happy Hour Bar” and inside there were photographs adorning the walls – some of rather scantily clad young ladies, and in another part a load of bare backsides. Also, spread out on the rafters were various bits of clothing! It was also the venue, so it seemed for the local guides as a group of them were sitting chatting in an alcove. We had a couple of beers, and I had to have a chat with the guides…

Josh was the head guide and was really happy to chat – after he’d finished his meeting. They all worked at a camp on the other side of Hebgen Lake, and they were just three days from the end of their season. They only start it in June – occasional they can get a few days in during May, and finish come end of September – so much shorter than ours, so they need to “make hay…” as they say. But, with tipping as generous as it is in U.S.A. they do ok. I am always amazed about tipping – it is something that causes a lot of issues when we fish in Cuba. As a nation we just don’t do it! And, find it hard to understand why others do.

Back at camp we had a lovely fire to cook our lamb steaks on. This was a real treat for our last wilderness night.

We packed up camp in the morning and drove to Bozeman, setting up at the luxurious Hot Springs Campsite. We certainly made use of the springs, which were fantastic. On the Sunday night as we lazed in the hot pools there was a fabulous band playing live music – what a treat, under the stars!

But, I digress. Saturday we had tickets for a college football game kindly given us by friends of Doug and Tracy. We took in the whole razzmatazz and had a lovely day. Even the usually calm Doug became animated at the football game! Thankfully, for his blood pressure, his beloved Montana State team won, though there were a few anxious moments in the first half! Entertainment it certainly was, but so odd that absolutely no alcohol is allowed or available in the ground, though you could do your heart a world of trouble with all sorts of fatty and sugary food and drinks!

We had an interesting couple of hours in town – tried two bars and met some lovely locals. We even had a couple of games of pool. But, back to the hot springs to end the day and plan for last day of fishing on the trip.

On Sunday morning we dropped in to the local tackle shop “Fins and Feathers” another massive shop with tackle, clothing, fly tying kit and to die for. Boy do the shops in America cater for every branch of the sport, but especially for fly fishers. The guys there suggested that the Madison was our best bet, in spite of my choice being the Gallatin. They suggested that the Gallatin was running dirty, so we took their advice and headed for Bear Trap Canyon. The drive was awesome as the air was so clear.

The countryside here was much “softer” than where we had been for the last few days. The river looked fantastic….but, it was “infested’ with drift boats. Later, once fishing, although I couldn’t see him as the banks were overgrown, Kev had a right “barney” with one of the guides in a drift boat that came right into where Kev was fishing. The guide at one point offered to come ashore and “sort it out man to man”! Interesting situation. Doug was not far away, and maybe, his presence was enough to stop the guide taking this drastic action, or maybe the fact that he had clients in the boat did it! Certainly not very friendly behaviour!

We fished a spot well below the canyon and had odd fish, but then moved on up to the Bear Trap! Beautiful, awesome, grand scenery. What must the original settles have made of this area? Wilderness America takes some beating.

The fishing in the canyon was too tough for us! The wading was all but impossible and the flow of water was fierce. I managed two or three cutthroats and Doug had a fish, but highlight here was the bald eagle circling overhead as I fished! It went in to rest on a crag opposite, but, when I returned to the truck for my telephoto lens it had gone.

It being so tough, we decided to head to an alpine lake – we hadn’t fished one of these and as there was one back the other side of our campsite we headed off. Hyalite Lake is really high in the mountains and snow remains on the peaks most of the summer – there was certainly plenty when we arrived there. The place was a “playground” – campers, walkers, kayakers, cyclists and plenty of fishermen. We went to the far end where the stream flows in and set up for our last hour or so of fishing for the trip. It was a struggle and we could have admitted defeat. I walked a long way round the west shore, whilst Kev and Doug went round the east shore. One rapid rise was all that I managed. We ended back at more or less where we started and decided to fish “English style” with a small pheasant tail and a small buzzer.
I started getting takes and ended up with three cutthroats – two of which were decent sized and hard fighting. Doug managed a little fella and Kev a couple of takes.

We walked back to the truck and admired a family of mule deer grazing on the paddock opposite. On our drive down the valley as light was dropping, we had the most wonderful view of an enormous bull elk – enormous head of antlers. Annoyingly I had been going through photographs on my Nikon and only just turned it off an put it on the floor. I clicked a couple of fuzzy pictures, but, in the light and with so little time they are not worth putting up.

So ended a wonderful trip. The fishing was varied – from the easy or rather “comfortable” fishing on the Blackfoot, to the challenging fishing on the Madison. We had some fun on lakes, saw a plethora of wildlife, got a good impression of the state of Montana, and even took in football – America’s greatest game.

I must thank Doug and Tracy for all they did to make the trip a success, and Kev for providing the (mostly untuneful) singing and (uncoordinated) dancing throughout! Three weeks in the RV and barely a cross word…only the fishing guide at Bear Trap persuaded Kev into that!

To next USA Roadtrip…Look out Doug….

Montana 2019 (part three)Quake Lake and Madison

At May 11, 2020
By admin
In Dry Fly, Lake fishing, Travel, Uncategorized
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Tuesday morning we went into West Yellowstone. The weather had changed dramatically and it was barely ten degrees. We were in no hurry to fish. A coffee, and then visits to two tackle shops killed a couple of hours.

“Big Sky Anglers” was some shop! In there I met a good pal of Gareth Jones and he was just so helpful. In fact we left with so much information on places to fish that we were bewildered. The sun had by now appeared and although a few showers came through the day it warmed up enough for us to fish. The first spot we were advised to try was impossible to find. Secondly, we tried Grayling Creek, which looked beautiful. Clear water, easily wadeable with lovely runs. We even saw a rise as we walked towards it. But, that was the only fish seen, and so, after a fruitless hour of exploring we carried on round Hebgen.

We found a suitable stopping bay and gave Hebgen an hour and sure enough caught a few trout, but none were of any size, and so we carried on towards Quake Lake.

I wandered off and fished towards where the river flows in, though it was much further than I had imagined. I caught three or four brown trout that fought really well though were only about twelve ounce to a pound. I missed a few sharp takes too. Heading back to check on the others I saw a decent head and tail rise and so put a fly in front of the fish and had immediate success. The fish raced into the lake and I was soon into backing. The fight though was quite short and soon I had a beautiful rainbow at the side of the lake. This fish had taken my small caenis pattern and it was obvious that a good hatch of tricos was underway, so I made sure that Doug and Kev were aware of this. and insisted they put on my small flies.

Kev soon started catching and he ended with three fish, one of which had the hook so far down that it was bleeding badly and so, sadly, he had to dispatch it. This is always a dilemma when fishing in a C&R venue. Ethically we always want to return our fish, but knowing full well that the fish was going to die, we feel that a sharp knock on the head is the best option. The fish was eaten next morning for breakfast so it was not wasted. But, most interesting part in this story was that when cleaned, the rainbow trout had been eating nothing but daphnia. There was not a trace of tricos in it. This accounted for the fact that the rises we were seeing were so small – barely breaking surface. We were treated to a most spectacular sunset. With such beautiful and hard fighting fish to be had we could barely await morning!

Next morning was cold again and so we didn’t hurry out. We wandered round the lake by the campsite. Saw nothing much but it warmed up a little. We decided on an early lunch before setting off and so had some lovely bacon sandwiches.

Arriving at our spot of the last evening, there was a massive hatch of calibaetis going on and we virtually ran back to the truck to get out gear sorted. As with yesterday I walked off left and Kev went right, Doug staying fairly central. There were fish taking flies off the surface and in this clear water and sunshine they were easy to spot and cover, but I had one of those sessions when it all went wrong! The first fish I covered I hooked but the tippet broke on my leader ring (I am not a great fan of these, and this added to my doubts). Next fish I covered took really sharply and I just lifted too quickly and snapped the fly off. Then I managed to stick the fly in a bush and spent ten minutes extracting it….

I needed to change my leader after the trouble in the bush, so I took off the ring and added a heavier tippet. Good job I did this as the next fish I hooked was a feisty rainbow of 18 inches. With that the rise ended. Walking back I only saw two more possible targets but they only rose once.

We went to the visitor centre for Quake Lake to find out a bit of its history. Sadly it was shut, but from the information boards around it we learnt a little. There was not previously a lake there – this was the Madison River. But one weekend during a holiday season weekend in August 1959, with many campsites full of holiday makers, there was a massive earthquake that brought rocks piling down. In no time there was pandemonium, it being at night. Tragically, 28 deaths were recorded, nineteen of the bodies never even recovered. There was still great danger as the river backed up by the massive rock fall threatened to bust the rocks and cause a tidal wave downstream. Engineers had to work quickly to sort this problem, which thankfully they managed to do. So, Quake Lake remains as a memorial to those holiday makers killed.

Back to the fishing we now had a terrific wind to cope with but it was sunny. We fished the end of the lake where the river flows out. We could see odd fish rise – one or two large ones in amongst the ghostly trunks of drowned trees. A fishing guide came out as we were close to a boat ramp and on chatting he said it had been a “quiet day…with only about two dozen eats”. All to grasshoppers!

That did it for us and straight away we dived into the hopper boxes. I fished a green and beige fly for a while with no reaction, but first cast on a dull fawn coloured one I had a nice fish, but yet again it broke the tippet! The session followed the pattern of the morning with many chances – I ended up walking about a mile, but few fish landed. I don’t ever fish such large flies and have not yet worked out the timing of striking. Fish were certainly coming to the hopper, but it didn’t matter if I waited before striking or if I hit straight away! I could not hook the fish. Then, without any explanation, I managed to land the next four fish that came to the fly – all brown trout between 15 inches and 11 inches.

Doug and Kev had driven round and were in a lay-by that I was walking towards. I jumped into the truck and we had another hour or so at our earlier spot but it being windy, not much happened!

Montana September 2019 part two Rock Creek

We had one more day on the Blackfoot and I must say we really enjoyed the fishing. The river is really accessible and in many places easily waded. I should say a little about how we generally fished. Doug has a four-weight rod, I loaned Kev my three-weight an I used my one-weight until it broke. Our preference is, not surprisingly, dry fly. Thankfully, most days saw some hatches and even if nothing was on the water a dry drifted over a likely spot would often produce a fish. Locals like to prospect with hoppers and, we did have odd fish on them, but, I have feeling that all of the hoppers that I tied were on the small side.

When there was a hatch under way it was either trico or larger olives – occasionally blue winged olives. The trico feeders were our favourite fish to target as I have a good supply of flies that work well. The pattern that I use in Ireland for caenis feeders is perfect on the rivers, and it is rare that if you get a good cast in it fails to produce a take. An alternative was a small plume tip. For prospecting we would either fish a sedge – I particularly like the pattern that Mladen Mercas introduced me to in Croatia, or some type of Klinkhammer – but reasonably small. We all used tapered leaders to about a 4X and then another few feet of 5X or 6X.

We headed off to Rock Creek via the small town of Avon, where we met Tracy who brought us fresh supplies, there being few supermarkets in the area we were camping. We had a light snack and coffee in a cafe before heading off. The drive was pretty spectacular – at first following a railway line and then the Clark Fork river. This was carrying plenty of water, and in places was really coloured, but we still saw odd drift boats on it.

We found our campsite and set up the R.V. and then headed to the coffee shop and the fishing tackle dealer. We had good advice from the young fellow in charge. So, we headed upstream for an evening on Rock Creek.

Wading was difficult, this was a totally different prospect to wading the Blackfoot! The creek is steep and so the water flow is rapid. There are few shallow areas, and almost no sandy parts. There was little evidence of flies hatching and so I opted for a sedge. I rose a small fish fairly soon, and did get a cast on a couple of fish that popped up for something on the surface and then caught a small cutthroat to “open my account” on Rock Creek.

I went to check on Kev and Doug and found that they too were struggling – as much with the wading as anything. I made my way slowly up the creek and eventually decided to just concentrate on the pockets close to the bank. This produced three small browns and another cutthroat, although I must have missed another dozen, all small.

I called it a day when I reached a point that I had to get out and take to the road. It was a lovely walk back. Kev was still fishing but had caught, Doug had packed up. We soon headed back to the campsite – spotting some wild turkeys on our way, and had our meal, a beer and game of cribbage….Doug usually “gets his own back” on us playing that card game….

Day two was a little disappointing as we could barely find any water to fish. This creek, it seems, is world famous and because of that it was so busy. Each time we found a free parking area and went to fish, there would be one, two and sometimes three anglers wading and fishing already. We fished here and there with modest success, and ended up not really liking this creek. Maybe we didn’t see it at its best. Maybe we just didn’t go far enough upstream! I had corresponded with Larry Urban who does Saturdays in the Orvis store in Helena, and a couple of days later I was to do a day in the shop tying flies and chatting with customers. Larry told me then that we really should have gone another few miles further up. Wish I’d thought to phone him when we were there at the creek! Next time? I did have a mad half hour as it was getting dark, and landed three lovely fish where a small creek came into the main river. Doug also came into that area and also had a couple of good fish, so we weren’t totally “scuppered”.

We decided to fish the creek near the campsite on the final morning and we had some better fishing there.

We all took some decent whitefish (why do they not like these fish in America?) and we also had brown trout and a couple of cutthroats. But, we were to head back to Helena, and so we packed the kit and left for the city.

Next day I worked in the shop – well, not really worked, more restocked my fly box! Had a lovely lunch in “Ben and Ernie’s”, and spent the early evening in a local brewery. So, batteries recharged we headed to Beaver Creek part of the Mighty Mo (Missouri River).

The day (a Sunday) was hot, and grasshoppers were everywhere. I thought it wise to fish a hopper, but, even after a walk of about a mile and a half, I saw only a couple of rises far out. Certainly nothing was happening close in where you would expect action. Highlight of the walk was a close encounter with a rattle snake. Not being used to these creatures in England, I heard this “rattling” noise and went to look into the large hole that it was coming from. I spotted the snake and immediately called for Kev to come and see it. I could see that its head was disappearing into a crack and so it was unable to turn and strike; sadly it had all but gone into the crack before Kev reached the hole.

On Monday we travelled a long way – towards Yellowstone, though we were not planning on going into the park. Tracy had sorted us a campsite on the edge of Hebgen Lake. We had planned to fish that evening – after setting up the camp, but there was a heavy thunderstorm, so instead we saved ourselves for the next day.

Montana, September 2019 (Part one Blackfoot river)

3rd September Kev and I arrived at Bristol Airport for our long trek to Helena, Montana. Things didn’t start too well when the KLM flight was announced as being delayed. Things worsened as the delay became longer, but eventually there we were, boarding. Unfortunately, the stewardess told us that we were going to miss our flight to Minneapolis and told us what we should do when we reached Skiphol.

There was no alternative flight and the best KLM could do was put us on a flight the following day – to Salt lake City, where we would catch our connecting flight. We were given vouchers for a night in an hotel nearby and also for a meal. We took our time, had the inevitable Heineken and went to catch the bus. The hotel was pretty modern, but soul-less. There was no alternative. So, a wasted day to start our fishing trip!

Next morning early we caught the bus back to the airport and had a basic breakfast with the vouchers given us (they barely covered even a simple bacon roll with coffee!), and checked in. A quick trip to Duty free and then on to our flight. That all went well enough and in rather a long time, we were at Salt lake City. Boy is the lake large – and salty! It appeared to be pure white as far as you could see.

The lay-over was not too bad, but made pretty memorable by Kev having his splendid bottle of gin taken from him at the customs post before boarding due to the bottle not being clear glass! That was thirty odd quid not so well spent! We caught our flight to Helena. On this leg of the journey we were a bit worried to see a couple of wild fires down below, remembering that two years ago many areas were unfishable due to these wild fires. But, the whole trip proved pretty free of fires, so we had no need to be worried.

Doug and Tracy were there at Helena awaiting our arrival, and soon we were being made welcome at their lovely house in Helena. Gin and tonics in hands, and a lovely meal were such a welcome

So, a day later than we hoped, we set off into Helena to buy our licences, pop into the local Orvis store and stock up on all that we needed for our road trip. Not much in the way of groceries was required as Doug and Tracy had sorted that well in advance of our arrival. Later that day we hit the road, and first stop to set up camp was Aspen Ground Campsite. This was a basic site, really cheap as the only facilities were toilet blocks, but that suited us. Camp set, we headed onto the river…. This was the big attraction, the site was right next to the Blackfoot river.

Kev and Doug headed upstream, I went downstream. First access point, and the river here was clear, fairly fast and small, there was a pretty obvious lie on the opposite bank, small bush overlapping the water, slowed current, so, with my Mladen Sedge, first cast produced a flash, but no take – maybe bit of drag! Next cast, with an upstream mend, and there he was, first fish of the trip – a Westslope Cutthroat.

Feisty little fellow! I carried on down and had a lovely short session with one memorably large fish – almost twenty inches, which took one long time to land, this fish took the Opti. Another pool held a good number of fish, where I caught first on a dry then I had to resort to a bead-head to get down to them. I managed two or three from this deep pool.

I guess I fished about two hours before thinking I ought to get back to see how the other two had coped – we were only having quick look after all. I arrived at the site to find the pair sitting in camp seats….fast asleep. Fished out after just one short session. They’d actually seen nothing (apart from fresh bear scat!) and certainly caught nothing.

Next day we headed well down the river – to Sperry’s Crossing. Here the river was big, and it was difficult wading. Drift-boats passed us at regular intervals, but, they are all polite, one even asking which side of the river I would like him to pass. The final one, I spoke with and he told me that they had been having good sport on an October Caddis – a fly I had no knowledge of. Later, he stopped and gave Doug a couple of these flies, so at least I could look at them and maybe tie some. They were BIG! I only caught one rainbow – really small, and that was on small nymphs. I dropped back to see the others. Doug had changed onto the October caddis and immediately moved four fish, but they hadn’t taken the fly. I changed back to Mladen sedge and rose a couple of small fish, the had a lovely small brown trout. I headed off to see Kev, who had caught a nice Westslope. I dropped in behind him and shortly caught a large Westslope – 20 inches plus, and boy, that took some playing in the current on my one-weight!

That just about did it for the day. We stopped at “Trixi’s Bar” on the way back – what a lovely spot. We had a couple of ales, a good chat with the bar staff, and the boys had their chicken wings (buffalo over in USA of some reason) then headed back upriver.

We stopped at an access point and fished again. Doug wasn’t too fussed to fish, but Kev and I had some fish. We chatted to a couple of guys from out of state. They told us we should fish Rock Creek after this river, as we would enjoy that place. I even had a slug of their delightful Jamesons! Shortly after we chatted to a young couple coming off the water – this was oft repeated on this trip – couples, especially in their twenties fishing together… They had caught about dozen fish on “small” hoppers in streamy water. I asked what “small” was and they showed me a fly of about two inches…I’d hate to try the large ones.

Day three we drove just past Lincoln and all tied some new leaders, fresh tippets and flies. This session was fantastic with all catching plenty – a good rise started after an hour and a half, and so we were covering fish, and still getting odd ones “blind”. As Doug had caught a couple of good fish Kev and I left him to it and went for a long stroll up river. We had a great time seeing fish in many pools and catching moving fish and trying good looking riffles to catch others.

Time for some lunch so we went back to see Doug and get the food from the truck. We ate next to the first large pool where Doug had caught some nice fish, and been broken by one. Someone suggested that I try a nymph in the pool to see if that would work. First shot I had a big whitefish…that was the first one we had seen. I wanted to walk Kev up to the large riffle that I had caught several in earlier, and so we chatted and walked up to it. We caught a few on the way, arrived, just as the thunder started to roll in. But, we fished a short while and in that time Kev managed six fish! Doug was really worried for our safety and had come to take us back. It had been a splendid day and we were more than happy to “obey instructions” and soon we were sitting in “The Bush-wackers” in Lincoln. Lovely food, an amazingly

hospitable landlord; all just about the right way to end a great day on the Blackfoot river.

Day four we decided to try Monture Creek, but it was coloured from the thunderstorm the night before, so back to the Blackfoot. We tried a nice looking spot and caught a few fish, but not a lot was happening. We fancied trying our good spot from the day before, but stopped at another pull-in before we reached it. The river here looked good and so we went for it. Doug and I sat on a log chatting, watching the river and waiting to see if the rain was going to hit us. We saw odd fish rise, and gradually, as the rain moved off, more and more fish showed. So, we crossed the stream and started to fish Doug was in pretty quickly, so after photographs, I went to the next pool and had a couple of small fish on the small plume-tip. I brought Doug here and immediately he caught. I left him there as he was happy to keep trying as fish were rising well. I wandered off and had a great session with a variety of methods and flies. Sadly the final fish I had, I hooked on a beetle pattern – first cast with it, only for my one-weight rod to bust on the butt section. So, my day was finished. The others were happy to move off too.

Grayling in Croatia

Regular client Marc Freeman asked if I would set up a trip to Slovenia for him. He had a precise weekend available (wife heading off to a hen weekend at a music festival) and so I started looking around. I just happened, shortly after the request, to bump into Ryan Billic, a friend of Alan’s and he originated in Croatia, and suggested that if I wanted to try that country he could help me to set up the trip. He also knew “the best” guide in Croatia.

The Croatian grayling have huge tails

So, I went with his advice, sorted out flights, accommodation and off we set. Everything went smoothly for the three of us (I should have said that Paul invited himself along on the trip) and we soon arrived in Brod na Kupi, the small village near to where we were staying. We shopped for a few provisions and then headed to our accommodation. This was where the first problem arose. Our village was so small that we passed though it in about the blink of an eye, but we couldn’t find house number 17. Three times round and also down a couple of side roads, and still no sign. Fortunately the owner of our house saw us and came out to greet us…in Croatian. Zdravko was pleasant enough and being the brother of the fishing guide, phoned Mladen and asked him to come and meet us. We were then shown to our rooms….only Zdravko seemed to think that we would like to share a room! Yes, all three in one small bedroom. It seems that is the custom in the country. It took a lot of persuading to make him let us have three separate rooms!

Paul, Mladen and Marc

Brother and fishing guide Mladen arrived and we talked fishing, compared flies, and had a couple of glasses of the compulsory sliivovica – the local “rocket fuel” that poses as an alcoholic drink!

We then walked the short distance behind the houses to see the river. It was a pretty sight. The Kupa is quite large at this point even though it is only a few kilometres from the source. We saw a few fish rising and fancied popping back later to have a fish, unfortunately, our meal took a little longer to get sorted and so it was too dark when we were ready to fish.

WE started on the tributary of the Kupa the next morning – the delightful Kupice. This river screamed fish to us. Malden took off downstream with Marc, whilst Paul and I set off upstream. Wading was tricky enough and Paul struggled so told me to carry on. I fished loads of lovely pools and likely spots without an offer and it was only on reaching the first sweeping bend that I spotted a pair of anglers about two hundred metres upstream….this explained why I had had no action, the fact that the pools had already been fished!

The clear fast water of the Kupice

I headed back to Paul and we crossed to the even smaller stream to the north – not sure if it was named. We gave this one about an hour but again saw nothing. I dropped back to the mill pool that forms at the junction. Here there were some impressive currents and likely looking areas for holding fish, and sure enough I spotted a huge grayling. It had a brief glance at the dry I had on, but no movement second or third casts. So I changed the fly for a small pheasant tail nymph with tungsten bead. Second cast was on the fish and it moved to intercept it and I lifted to feel resistance. The large grayling headed into the current and in the clear water I could see that my “grayling” had changed into a very large chub! In the shadowy water I had presumed the fish to be a grayling! However I was not unhappy at landing a four-pound plus chub as my first fish in Croatia.

Soon after this we met up with Marc and Mladen who had worked their way back to the cars having caught two very small grayling and seen little else. Mladen suggested a drive further upstream and so Paul and I followed. When we caught up with the pair, they told us that the spot even further upstream that Mladen wanted to fish was already being fished by up to six anglers. We hoped that this was not going to be the pattern for the few days there. Again Paul and I went up, whilst Marc and Mladen went down. This stretch was a stunning piece of water and soon I was into my first grayling – a fish of around a pound. I dropped back and let Paul have the pool and he soon caught a similar sized fish.

Beautiful fish in beautiful surroundings

Paul and I took turns hopping past each other and managed to catch a couple more smaller grayling, but now it was time to go to Ryan’s house for a barbecue. This was a splendid occasions at which we were treated royally. WE were served a variety of Croatian sausages, meats and potatoes accompanied by some fantastic salads, and great wines. After the early start, the travelling the day before, and the wine, combined with such warm (over thirty centigrade) weather a relaxing end to the day was called on, but instead we headed back to the river – this time near to Ryan’s house it was the Kupa.

I went downstream and fished up some rapids, Mladen took Marc back to the morning’s venue to try for a Huchen, and Paul took a siesta! I caught a couple of small, beautifully marked brown trout, several grayling and had a great short session. Marc struggled as to fish for huchen a heavy outfit was used but they saw nothing anyway.

Next day we started even earlier as we wanted to be back to our accommodation for breakfast and the third Lions test match from New Zealand. We managed a few grayling and small trout, and were ready for breakfast and rugby by nine o’clock. The game ended in a draw, we then became tourists and went to the coast. Driving to the coast we stopped a few times to take photographs and enjoy various views. We had a decent and reasonably priced meal right by the sea then went touring a few more harbours before heading back for a bit more fishing. In the evening we fished the main river at the confluence of the Kupice. Marc had a splendid time catching several grayling, a couple of trout and a few small chub, all on dry fly.

One of the large nymphs found under the stones in rivers of Croatia

Sunday was our “special” day fishing in the National Park. The fee here was a bit more than the usual cost, though still cheap in the scheme of things. I think a normal ticket on the rivers was around 23 euros, but it went up to 28 or 30 for the National Park. The river in the park was spectacular and we all caught some splendid grayling. Most fish were caught on dry fly, but a few were taken on nymphs whenever the fish spotted wouldn’t come up on top. There were several pools that reminded me of fishing in the tropics for bonefish. Shallow, as clear as gin and big grayling sitting on station so that you could target one fish at a time. We had a long session of fishing before heading up to one of the local houses which doubles as a restaurant where we had a feast! The owner brought us a fabulous tomato salad, and then a huge plate of pork steaks and chips. All the time there was ice-cold beer available! We were joined by a couple of Italian anglers who had just completed their second day of fishing and were going to eat and then drive back to Italy. They told us that on the previous day they had caught about fifty grayling each – up to three pounds plus! Today had been poor and they had “only” caught about twenty each! Isn’t it strange how expectations differ between people. As a group I think we had maybe twenty between us at the lunch break (in truth it was about three o’clock in the afternoon) and we were absolutely delighted!

Our first view of the Kupa in the National Park – close to its source.

We fished on until around eight and headed back. We maybe had another twenty in the afternoon, but probably didn’t! But, we all agreed that it was a fantastic place and we would be more than happy to return and give it another go.

Next morning we fished a few hours as it was back to the airport. I went well downstream on the Kupa and fished a really fast run with a dry sedge of Mladen’s tying. I had about seven or eight fish from a ridiculously fast riffle, but then failed hopelessly on the long smooth flat water on my way back to meet the others. A few grayling were taken by all before we set off for showers and the drive back to Zagreb.

Mladen guiding Marc in the National Park.

I can highly recommend the area we stayed at and with the amount of fishing available it would be difficult to get to it all on a five day trip. We really only had three days fishing, but made the most of it.

Most of our fish were taken on dries. My best was a size eighteen or twenty pardon de Meana. A simple imitation of an olive. The others stuck with the sedge that Mladen suggested. Small pheasant tail nymphs were also useful. We fished light leaders – I was on 0.12mm whilst Mark stuck with 0.14mm. 4-weight rods were used by Paul and Marc but I stuck to my one-weight.

Slovakia – land of apple trees and golden rod.

My proposed trip to Venezuela was cancelled virtually last minute by my heart surgeon friend who lives and works in the country. I believe that conditions in Venezuela have now deteriorated to the extent that it was possibly too dangerous for me to travel there. So, I booked a last-minus trip to Europe. A beginner on a recent class at Chew suggested that Slovakia would be a good place to visit as he has a property there. I considered this, but also consulted friends Ondrej (formerly from Czech Republic) and Paul Reddish, as both of these men have fished throughout Europe. Both advised Slovenia or Bosnia in preference to Slovakia, but flight costs were too high and so I booked my flight with Wizz Air, and a hire car with CarRentals.com and set off.

I was impressed with Wizz air. They have a generous allowance for luggage (if you join their “club”), and the whole process with them was a pleasant experience. I arrived at Kosice Airport in the early hours of the morning and picked up my hire car. My first couple of nights were booked at an AirB&B in a small village called Liptoska Kokava. IT is very close to the river Bela, where I planned to fish the first couple of days.

I met my guide for the first day – Andrej, and we went to buy my daily licence. He had already sorted out the state licence – I had provided him with my passport number and all the other information required. This bought we headed for the river Bela. Andrej explained the style of fishing we would be doing. Basically he likes to fish a strike indicator (he uses a piece of booby cord) and then two heavily leaded flies to get into the depths. The point one is his heavier fly (I know that in U.K. many anglers prefer the dropper to be the heavier), both being tungsten bead flies. A dark pheasant tail went on the point and a smaller hare’s ear went on the dropper.His whole set-up was rather a complex set of knots and loops and more knots – personally I prefer to keep things simple, but, as a guide myself, I know to just “go with the flow”.

We parked my car (he left his back in the main town at the hotel) and then walked downstream for about thirty minutes. We fished our way back up the river. The Bela is a gorgeous clear river with one heck of a fall on it. There are trees fallen in it, big boulders, cliff faces, wild flowers down to the edge, and best of all, wild raspberries and strawberries to eat as you work your way along the bankside. At times the river can be crossed relatively easily, at others it is far too difficult to cross.

The fishing was slow. With the flow as it was I was never confident that my flies were really getting deep enough, but regularly I had Andrej yell “strike”. I did so even when he didn’t tell me to and after about the one hundredth I actually asked him if he really believed that these were fish at all! HE thought that many were…..

On about the third pool that we fished I hooked my first brown trout. It fought hard in the fast current and although not huge took a bit of landing on my Helios four weight. I caught another four or five through the day, but have to say that just being there was enough for me as it was such a beautiful environment. Any fish on the end were a true bonus. There was no rise on the river, and even though we stayed relatively late nothing seemed to happen after about five thirty. We could have fished until eight thirty, but I was happy to end at a decent time as Andrej had a two-hour drive home through the mountains.

I woke next morning to heavy rain and suspected that the river might be in flood (I had been aware of the rain a couple of times in the night), but on crossing the Bela on the way to the hotel that sells the licence, I found that it was as clear as the day before. I opted to fish the larger river – the Vah on this second day and paid my fees. I drove to the spot that I was to park and only then discovered that the Vah was indeed really badly coloured and high after the rain. I returned to the hotel and the lovely receptionist was able to change my licence to the Bela. I fished further downstream than the previous day. The river if anything looked even better down here. So, I lost myself for the next five hours! I had a wonderful time fishing pools, glides and falls, and all sorts of venues. I caught several grayling on this lower bit of river, and had some decent browns. But, I never felt that I had the river worked out. IT really is as fast a river as any that I fished even in New Zealand. I don’t like the strike indicator idea of Andrej, and I felt that a four-weight was probably just a bit too heavy.

I returned to the car and decided to fish near to my accommodation – the river braids there and is rather appealing to look at. I found one really deep pool with a couple of very large grayling but I did not have a bug heavy enough to get down to them. I fished up the river until sunset, adding not many more (as the day before, things seemed to go quiet after five thirty, in spite of the fading light).

Day three and the Vah was fishable so I went up to my appointed spot. I found a lovely pool just off a sharp bend and I thought that there had to be a good head of fish here. I caught one fair sized brown trout, but thought I should have had more. The river shallowed round the corner, but became so rapid that it was impossible to walk any further. I went upstream on the bank and tried further up the river. There were no decent pools so I decided that I would try the first pool again, but with a longer leader. This really did work well and first run down I had a good brown, then a small rainbow and then a small grayling. I caught couple more fish before deciding that I would look near the town.

The river here was a bit less attractive as it backs onto factories and tower blocks, yet the pools were just as good. I fished the evening and managed a couple on dries, in fact I opted to stick with dries as odd fish were showing, and in the fast riffles grayling especially would just come up and take the fly. The smaller fish proved really difficult to hook, but I managed a few.

I returned to my hotel – I booked a room in the place where licences are bought. I went to the restaurant for a well earned beer and meal, only to find that everything closes at nine. I’d fished until eight thirty and by the time I’d checked-in, taken bags up, washed and gone down to the bar, I was only in time to take one beer! To be honest I was happy enough with a relatively early night.

Next day I set off to Rozemborok – a big town further downstream on the river Vah. I had read that the river being larger here had a bigger population of grayling, and if that wasn’t too good, then the smaller river Revuca would be worth a day. I found the lovely tackle shop called “Thymallus” and chatted with the guys there about my fishing the next three days. IT turned out that there was a big competition on the main river on Saturday and Sunday and the bank holiday Monday! So, I would not be allowed to fish it. So, I had no choice but to fish the REvuca. I was also advised (and had read) that the ski hotel called Hotel Bodegas would be the best area to stay and fish. This was superb information and I had a brilliant two nights there. The river is a delight. I fished it with my one-weight and dries (I did give the nymphs a short go but although I caught a couple, I decided that working the river with dries to be the best option) and over the two days covered a huge amount of river and caught plenty of browns, a couple of rainbows, one brook trout and many grayling.

In the fast water a small paltered fly was easily the best option. The local fly was one that had about two thirds grizzle hackle (rear part) and front part furnace hackle. The flatter sections I used my friend’s Paradun – Luis Meana’s pattern is a gem! I had some really good grayling on the second day in a long flat pool. These fish took a lot to coax up. The best pattern was a size 20 pardon. Luis’ flies are all tied with Coq de Leon feathers, and have rather complex tying, but I think it is well worth it.

On the second day I fished until dark and came upon a fantastic area that came alive with rising trout for the final twenty minutes. I caught plenty of these feisty browns and when the fly stopped working I realised that it had completely disintegrated! That was then time to pack up and trudge back to my hotel….again too late for any food! But, the compensation is that breakfasts are really fantastic.

I drove back along the main motorway to fish at a small village called Svit. This is on the river Poprad. I spent ages trying to find somewhere that might sell a licence. Everyone warns you that fishing without one is liable to end you up in prison, though I wondered if that might be a modern myth. I didn’t have my licence checked once in six full days fishing! I drove to Poprad to the fishing shop that opens seven days a week, only to find it was shut. The guy who runs it was probably fishing the competition down on the Vah! In desperation I went to the main town and tried in the largest hotel. Again the receptionist was wonderful and found through several phone calls that a small Pension in Svit would be able to sell me a licence. So, back to Svit and sure enough I bought my licence.

I was soon tackled up and in the river. The small river is a series of small weirs. I fished the entire length of one of these areas without so much as seeing a fish. As the approaching thunderstorm threatened I cast into the white water of the weir and immediately hooked a decent brown trout. It slipped the hook, and nothing else came to the fly. I hurried back to the car as the rain worsened and the flashes of lightning became more regular. I was stuck there for almost two hours, but eventually I was able to get into the river again. I went up to the stretch above where I had finished. As I stepped into the water I spotted a fish rising and about third or fourth cast hooked it. IT was my largest brown trout of the whole trip and fought well. However, as I played it I could see the river visibly rising and so by the time I brought it to hand, I had to get out and call it a day. That was the end of my fishing in Slovakia.

I drove to the airport the next day across the mountains rather than along the motorway. IT is a really beautiful country. As I said in the title, it seems like all of the roads are lined with apple trees. And Golden rod can be found along the hedgerows and riverbanks in profusion. I will surely return here of the ease of travel, the lovely people and the beautiful rivers will call me back. However, I ought to check out Bosnia and Slovenia too!

Damsels on Blagdon

I have fished the Bristol lakes for forty years and have never before found more than just odd damsel flies in any of the fish that I spoon. Many anglers catch most of their fish on damsel nymphs, but this is because the fly is fished more as a “lure”; it is often fished too fast and too deep. It might as well be a fritz pattern – or blob! The appearance of the bright blue male damsel flies make so many anglers that I know delve into their boxes for the “nymph”. If, like I do, these anglers spooned their fish they would not have seen the real damsel nymphs in the fish.

This year on finding more than a couple of fish with damsel nymphs in them I dug out some flies from the corner of my box that I used years ago when fishing in the weeds of Eyebrook for trout that were crashing into damsels. The fly is basically a large (size ten) Bob’s bits, with a tail. This is fished static. If a trout comes for it and misses it, a slow lift of the rod gives the fly the appearance of the slow swimming nymph and more often than not a bow wave appears before the line goes tight. It is fun fishing and so effective! I had Charles Samler out with his mother Ann recently and Charles, who had never previously caught a single trout managed to take eight fish!

On the Yeo Valley “Catch and Cook” day earlier in the month, Martin and Andy MartinYeo caught twelve fish between them on my pattern of damsel, and neither of these guys are regular fishers. Martin had only ever fished for trout once before – on this same event last year!

November in Spain

John Wingrove enjoyed his trip to Spain earlier in the year so much that he persuaded me that another trip would be a good idea. This time instead of a boat to help John to get around the lake Luis, my Spanish friend chose to use a golf buggy, as we were fishing Embalse de Valdecanas, not too far from Talavera. This lake is really densely packed with barbel and so I knew that if we had some settled weather John would have a good time. The worry was that there might be too much algal growth. Three years ago on a trip to the same lake with Luis, the group that I took all struggled to fish clean water and so very few barbel were caught. Sure, we saw plenty of fish, but they were mostly dead or dying ones in the margins. The lake had suffered serious eutrification that year due to the high water temperatures. To be honest we ought not have been fishing, but you know what we are like when we plan for these trips for so many months!

Anyway, the buggy was great and the weather didn’t let us down too much. We had pretty thick fog and cool mornings for the first few days, but afternoons warmed up and the barbel came into the shallows. Even when foggy there were just about enough fish in close to keep us interested. The ant pattern again proved to be the best fly – I was tempted to try a buzzer pattern as there were some great hatches in the warm afternoons. I was fairly sure that the barbel were rising to these flies as they hatched. Unfortunately I had not taken my usual fly box and I certainly had no seal’s fur to tie some! All I took was foam and materials for tying ants and beetles! Next time I ought to give the “Bits” a try!

John fished really hard for the first two days and, I believe, he caught six or seven the first day and ten or eleven the second. The plan was for him to take the third day off as a rest day. I am glad I made that decision as he slept from the time we arrived at our accommodation on the Tuesday night until breakfast on Thursday morning – apart from getting up for brief meal periods! On John’s day off, Luis took me to the river that feeds the lake. He had found a spot on a farm where he had worked hard to get permission from the farmer to fish. The stretch is only about three to four hundred metres long but it was crawling with fish. However, they were difficult to approach as there was the most incredibly crunch gravel to try to walk across. One false step and you would see a huge bow-wave head up the river as the great shoals of barbel disappeared! I eventually worked out that crawling on all fours was the way to get close enough and soon I was able to cover some barbel. The river fish are really much more difficult to get to take the fly as they seem to be feeding intently on small creatures in the gravel. Tailing fish could be seen across the shallows on the whole stretch. I had my first river barbel on a dry fly after about two hours of fishing and was really disappointed with its fight. That, however was the only one that did disappoint. I took six more fish and they were really close to bonefish in their fighting ability! And such beautiful fish too! All were in pristine condition. They were plump, as I have said, hard fighting and beautiful! I must try to find some more places to fish for these Spanish barbel in rivers!

Back to the lake for the final two days and plenty more fish for John. Strangely, he would fish in one spot all day, and the fish came to him. In all of my trips I have found that rarely happens! In fact I would say that I find the opposite, in that the further that you are prepared to walk, the more chance I believe that you have to catch a fish! I am inclined to suggest that you are rewarded for the distance that you travel! John seemed to disprove that theory, but then Valdecanas does have a very big population of barbel compared with other lakes.

I hope to get back to Spain in 2016, but if any clients or readers of this want some information about the fishing please drop me an email. It really is good fun and quite possible to do on a family holiday. Luis runs trips for anglers from all round the world, but I warn you he is not cheap. He does provide first rate accommodation. The system of “Rural Houses” in Spain is really excellent. I have yet to stay in one that is not fantastic! And, most trips that you might want to do for barbel are in the less busy tourist times of the year.

A word of warning. Don’t think about fishing for barbel in June, July or August as it really is too hot. Spring or autumn are fine, and even in winter you will find fish feeding if the day is warm.