Marks Blog

How do some anglers become successful at catching big fish? Some learn their skill over years, some are lucky, but most of all they all need the same thing. Big fish need to be present in the waters that they fish. It doesn’t matter how good you are, if the fish aren’t there your not going to catch them.

Ive just returned from an exhausting day at Chew reservoir with good friend Toby. Not only was it good to get out and fish with him again, but if I remember right I let him out fish me last time we went fly fishing for pike and I was hoping for a bit of a comeback. He got one over me from the start by telling me we had to meet up at 7:30am in Somerset. Straight away I had an hours drive from Devon to get to where he lives. For those who know me, know that pike are the number-one species of fish that I love to fly fish for. So the blow of having to get up early on my day off wasn’t too bad. Fly fishing is the only thing that I get up for nowadays.

We met up (after I’d got lost), more or less on time. I don’t know how I managed it, I only had to drive up the motorway and get off at junction 25. I think I must have gone to the Wellard School of motoring. Looking like a couple of burglars I began bungling my gear into the back of van. Quick nip into the shop for a few essentials and we were off. It didn’t take long to get to Chew and as it was my first time on the water I was proper looking forward to it.

On arrival Toby treated me to a big fry-up. I was all prepared with my bag of chocolates and tin of rice pudding. So it was good to tuck into a nice greasy plate of grub smothered in brown sauce. We couldn’t go out onto the water until 10am, so we stood around chatting and getting the kit set up. I was taking a couple of Scott 9ft 9# X2S rods out, set up with a floater and intermediate lines. Chew is surprisingly shallow compared with its size, so with the summer weed growth it would have been near impossible to use anything else.

By 9:59 we were in the boat and ready for the off. I had been given the honours of manning the craft, so it’s a good job Chew is round or we might have got lost. Turning the sounder on, we began working the contours and drop-offs. I decided to start off with the intermediate line and attached a white bait-fish pattern to the trace. I opted to go heavy on the trace as Chew is known for its bigger fish. I used 28lb AFW. The clarity of water was good, so I dulled the shine down a bit by using a black permanent marker. Simple to do, just get a chisel point marker and cut a slit in it with a Stanley blade. Put your trace into the slit and pull it through. Hey-presto an invisible trace. I’d rather do that, than risk loosing a fish by going over to a mono or braid trace. Saying that, I don’t think pike are that concerned about the trace too much. It was just a confidence thing for myself. If you’re happy with your set-up I tend to find that you fish a bit better. After all, if pike were that wary of trace how do jerk-bait anglers catch some of the biggest pike in the world? That set-up can consist of anything up to 150lb solid steel wire.

Things started off quite until we made a drift across the edge of the roman shallows. Bang- my rod-tip buckled over and started to bounce. Something had latched onto the fly. I wish! More like I thought I’d pulled the fly through a clump of weed. I was just about to lean over to grab it to clean it off the hook, and it moved! It was a mini Esox. The killer of the deep I’d always been searching for. I was hoping something bigger might of lunged up and grabbed at it. But in maturing years, I quickly got in my hand and released it. I think there that will be a picture featured in the Guinness book of records 2009. “ The worlds smallest Pike attacks worlds biggest fly”. It still amazes me the size of flies small fish will take.

Soon after Toby had a couple of boils at his fly. He opted for a floating line and a large pink fly. He stuck with it, when out of the blue a large brownie grabbed it off the surface. Without sounding like a Second World War squadron leader, “it was a handsome brute”. “No not Toby-, the fish”. He played it for a while and we landed it in the 42” landing net that I bought along for the pike. Covered in pasty crumbs he unhooked the beast and smiled for a quick picture.

The day started off nice but soon deteriorated. The wind got up and it was starting to rock the boat. So much so, that I grabbed the last of the ginger nuts and ate them before a wave washed over the side and got them soggy. After a few hours of casting into the elements we decided to nip around behind Denny Island to get a bit of shelter. I suppose im getting boring in my old age. But I have got well into my history lately. Give me my pipe and slippers, and a good episode of Time Team and I’m happy. So looking at the topography map of Chew it was amazing to look at how the area would have once looked before it was flooded. The old farms and houses that once stood. Still there, but under water. You could make out the old pathways and structures on the fish finder. I suppose Denny Island would have been called Denny Hill at one time. I’m that much of a nerd I was even going to buy the book that was on sale in the tackle shop. “Chew before it was flooded”. But I shook my head and thought, don’t be daft, your not dead yet!

Whilst anchored up and having a bite to eat, we had a few casts and worked the flies back above a large weed-bed in some shallower water. I had switched over to a fly call ‘the witch’. First cast I had a take, but pulled out of the fish as it dived through the weed. I had a few more goes in the same area, and the fish took again. This time I bullied it up onto the surface before it had time to dive. It may have only been small but it was welcomed after the tough morning. Soon after releasing the fish I made another cast. This time a massive perch of about four pounds crashed onto the surface trying to grab the witch. I watched as it lunged out of the weed-bed and darted straight for it. Always nice to see.

By tea time the wind had really began to get up. As we motored around the corner of Denny Island and into the main body of the lake, there were white tops rolling. We looked around but couldn’t see any other boats out. I think they may have been called in to the jetty. I pulled down my cap and held the rods down as the boat crashed through the waves. It was nice having Toby in the front. He was a great shield from the spraying water the was lapping over the bow. We decided to go into one of the sheltered bays and have a go there for a while. As we pulled in, we saw all of the other boats huddled close together, out of the weather. Wimps! So we decided to join them! Bigger wimps! Toby had a couple of takes but unfortunately didn’t connect. I think I had another follow to the boat, but the wind had been blowing petrol fumes from the engine into my face all day. I could have been hallucinating.

Overall the fishing was tough. We managed a few fish between us, with Toby’s brown been the fish of the day. Still, I very much enjoyed it. When I fish new waters for the first time, I like to use it as a scouting trip. As long as I learn something about the water then I’m happy. The fish will come in time. The more you go, the more chances you have of catching. That’s how most successful anglers become successful. Learn the water. Don’t worry about going and not catching fish straight away. I know it’s nice, but anyone can be lucky and go out and catch a fish or two. Take the time to learn the water. It will pay dividends in the long run. Learn where the fish will be located throughout the year. Find the hot spots where pike like to wait in ambush. Find the structures such as drop-offs, weed-beds and platues. Learn the areas where the prey fish like to occupy. The pike won’t be far away. That way you can feel confident that you’re in with a good chance of catching fish on most trips out. This time we were ‘Chewed up and spat out’. Just like flies. But I’ll be back in a week or so. I’ve still got lots to learn about the water and the fish that lurk there. I just hope we come across a few of those big fish in the process.

I’ve just looked of the window and its another glorious day down here in Devon. It’s warm and still, and were just starting to have the first appearance of cloud for the first time this week. Perfect fishing weather. I reckon the fish will be going nuts! Popping at emergers and feeding to their heats content. So why am I stuck in doors looking at a computer screen instead of wading along a cool river? Simple!! I’ve got no fuel left in the car. I suppose it’s the same throughout the rest of the country. I was supposed to have gone sea-trouting last night and its my day off from guiding today, so I was looking forward to a trip up onto the moors for a spot of wild brown trout fishing with Pete.

Typical- when you’ve managed to save enough money to fill the car up with over priced petrol, the country has run dry. Did I fall asleep in England, and wake up in the outer reaches of Mongolia? It’s like living in Russia. People queuing for the last drops from the forecourt. It’s the same when its snows. If there is an inch of snowfall, the country comes to a stand still. We can’t seem to handle problems very well in this country.

I suppose I should be thankful. It won’t hurt to spend the day at home. Maybe go and buy some proper food instead of eating chocolate biscuits all the time. Apart from that, I’ve got a bit of gear maintenance I could be getting on with. I’ve got to repair my waders, replace a few worn out lines, tie some new flies, and try and sort out the jumble of rods that are stacked against my living room wall. I’d rather be out fishing though! Maybe I’ll leave it and have a walk across the park and go for a cast instead. The shopping can wait as well. Good idea, I’ll grab a pack of biscuits and go throw a few loops for the day. “Well when I’ve finished this blog anyway”.

Things have been manic since my last blog. After returning from the Tweed Fair we have been snowed under with work. The school is running at full capacity, which is good and with the up and coming shows to prepare for we are working seven days a week. The Yak Shack is as busy as ever, and we have just opened a new shop at Silblyback Lake nr Liskeard in Cornwall. Talk about running our selves ragged.

The new shop is full of all sorts of fly-tackle. We have stocked it with Scott rods, SA and Snowbee reels, fly lines, Patagonia clothing and waders, plus a massive selection of the small items of tackle and flies needed for a days fishing.

Soon I’m heading back up North to do a show at Blithfield reservoir in Staffordshire. For those who have never heard of Blithfield, it’s the home of BIG fish! Ever fancied hooking into a monster Pike on the fly? Blithfield is the place. Pike up to 40lb are nothing of a surprise. I’ve known people catch as many as three thirties in a day. Hopefully I will wet a line at the end of the day. Then were off to the CLA. Another awesome show. It will be good to meet up with the AAPGAI lads again.

We’ve decided to camp this year. I hope Pete and Bob will be putting on a BBQ at night when the show has ended. This is when things begin to start for us.

Joining us on site will be Jim Fearn, Lee Cummings, T-Bone, Karl, Illtyd, Tim Smith and Dave Pilks. All of which are awesome casters. So no doubt it will be another loop-crazy event. Casting away until the small hours of the morning. I just hope the weather will be more kind to us this year and the show goes ahead. For anyone that is interested, Illtyd will be hosting a Sea-trout course here in Devon, on 16^th and 17^th August. Probably one the most successful sea-trout anglers of his time, it will be a weekend not to miss. Places are filling up fast, so if you fancy becoming the next Hugh Falkus, drop us a line for details.

After the CLA, we are heading over to Amsterdam to take part in the World tackle fair. It hosts the largest indoor casting pool in Europe. No doubt Pete and Bob will be playing around when the bosses aren’t looking! I think they lied to me and told me my role back at base is very important…… They just know that I’d keep going missing all weekend and they’d get sick of shuffling me back to the stand like a naughty schoolboy.