Thursday 22 February 2018

Mojo Bass Fly - a grassroots review

FEED BASS IN THEIR FACES!
- you've just got to love an advertising tagline like that. Not that the St Croix Rod Company, maker of best rods on earth is any stranger to hyperbole. But it isn't their advertising hype that attracted me to import another of their fly rods over to dear old blighty. Actually, I have a very niche requirement and it just so happens they are making a rod that might fit the bill very nicely. 

Enter the St Croix Mojo bass fly rod range. St Croix are little known this side of the Atlantic, certainly in comparison to say Orvis, Loomis and Sage, or even Temple Fork Outfitters. But St Croix are actually the largest North American rod company manufacturing stateside (the Mojo bass is made in their purpose built facility in Mexico). I've already fished the St Croix Legend Elite 5 weight, and I'm very impressed with that rod - so I feel I'm in safe enough hands to take a punt on the Mojo bass 7' 11" 8 weight, sight unseen.












I've been looking for a short fly rod for light predator work for a while - by light I mean relatively small flies (5" and much less) cast with finesse at short to medium range and also jigged along the near margins of small rivers, drains and canals. I'm thinking pike, perch, zander and chub, with an occasional foray into carp and tench territory. 

A few American rod makers are putting out fly rod models designated as bass tournament legal, being less than 8' in length. Now I'm not fishing for warm water bass, but I can see a lot of similarities  with this fishing style - throwing smaller lures, surface poppers, creature baits and jig flies accurately into tight cover - but for me the quarry is small river pike, perch and chub. So now at last there is some choice in shorter rods in 8 and 9 weight class.

So why go short when the traditional predator fly rod length is 9'?
Well, if I'm fishing open wind swept lakes for pike I would still opt for a 9' 9 or 10 weight and big 6/0 streamers. But an awful lot of my predator fishing is on small, intimate waters with smaller flies. A lot of the flies I use for pike, perch and chub on these waters are bass bug size - right in this rods sweet spot.



The shorter rod is definitely more accurate for precisely placed casts into far bank structure, and despite being an 8 weight it's wonderfully light in the hand, with a very low swing weight. So much so that it feels more like my 4 weight to heft than my 9 weight rod. I can cast this all day without fatigue. The shorter length is also handy for low side casts under the tree canopies that conceal some of my favourite spots. This is a great length too for canal fishing - particularly when fish are tight to the near bank and can only be winkled out with a precisely controlled jig fly - a method that has won me many of my best canal perch. I like too the short, almost abbreviated  cork handle which is capped both ends with dense EVA. Feels built to last. The handle length lets me place my index finger of my rod hand on the blank - UL lure style, which is great for feeling those little plucks transmitting down the rod. 

Where this rod really sings for me though is casting size 1, 3" streamers from near in and up to around 60' - more than far enough for my purposes. Reading through U.S reviews I've teamed the rod up with a WFF8 Orvis Hydros Bass line. No need to upline this rod, the stated rating seems right on the money to me. The Hydros line is less aggressively tapered than I'm expecting, in fact I'd go as far as to say that with this rod it's more of a carrying line than a shooting line - unlike say a Rio OutBound Short. I'm happy about this though as it suits my casting style better and the wide range of flies I plan to use with this rod (foam beatles up to coot chick poppers). 

With this rod/line combo you really can land a fairly big streamer very softly, which is useful in the little rivers I like to fish where quarry can be easily spooked by a splashy dumping of fly line. The taper of the Hydros line is chartreuse, which is both hi-viz but close enough to being weed coloured that, providing it lands softly, doesn't seem to bother the fish. The running line is orange but there's rarely more than a few yards of this outside my tip ring..  


Through January and February I've not had as much time with this rod on the bank as I would like, mostly down to poor weather conditions.  So far I've tested it with 4/0 five inch streamers and poppers down to tiny size 4 fry patterns, taking 3 pike and losing a large double who spat out my coot chick popper when she discovered balsa and marabou isn't as tasty as the real thing. It did give a me brief chance though to feel a good strong fish on the rod, and I felt quite happy with how it coped.  A canal schoolie zander and hand-sized perch came my way too, and I discovered that there is enough sensitivity in the blank not to feel too overgunned on smaller fish.

Build quality is good, fit and finish cool and understated. The blank is a lovely deep purple and the bottom two stripper guides are black anodized and lined. The machined double uplocking reel seat which at first seemed slim to me, is actually very secure. The rod comes in just two sections which I prefer on shorter rods as there is only one joint to worry about, and the double keeper ring is a welcome feature. The rod comes in a cloth bag and has a 5 year warranty. 

All in all an exciting little rod with good carbon and some nice character in the casting action - surprising finesse in fact. Particularly recommended for those of us who like to stray off the beaten track and try something a little different with our fly fishing. 

Mine cost about £180 landed and came from pecheur.


Monday 5 February 2018

Carnival of Death

'It's bleak. The fish I mean - they're bleak.' 
Dom Garnett's right in both senses. The cold sucking mud hasn't been improved by a marinade of spattering rain, but this is the Somerset Levels and wet by definition. Anyway we're not here for pastoral charm, though this landscape does have a certain quality of atmosphere that's perversely appealing. We've been drawn here by the sometimes hectic pike action, hoping for a few nice fish this morning on the fly. Perch are in our minds too.   

We arrive at dawn with high expectations which seem rightly justified as the surface erupts here and boils there, silver baitfish scattering like ball bearings across the surface. Thousands upon thousands of them - tiny bleak - their biomass we can only guess at, but it must be prodigious. And the predators know it - this feeding frenzy is positively Jurassic, a pike Carnival of Death says Dom. I feel like I'm inside a BBC nature documentary.

We are trying to work out which hits are from pike and which might be from perch. Right under the near bank in front of me, a bait ball of bleak explodes as a yard long pike scythes through the shoal, turning this way and that to swallow as many tiny victims as possible. I wonder what it must be like to end up with your mates, all intact but waiting to be slowly digested within a pike's belly. And like Jonah and the whale, I wonder if any get lucky enough to make the return journey.

A pattern begins to emerge from the chaos of the shattered surface. The attacks come in waves - brief, intense and across multiple locations - some in mid channel, some closer to the banks, followed by several minutes of calm before the next predatory raid. I imagine the baitfish beneath the surface being given time to recover and regroup before a new attack is launched. Sometimes the surface erupts with tiny bodies in several patches at once. I visualise a shoal of perch hunting co-operatively to herd the bleak into ever tighter bait balls before lunging in. Sure enough, I glimpse the back of a perch as it rolls to take fish from the surface - corralled under the far bank. 

We are flinging our smallest and most realistic streamers into the fray but between us we just can't win a take. It's a strange experience - confidence inspiring to be on feeding fish, but at the same time the failure to connect is demoralising. I take some heart from the knowledge that even Dom is having an equally tough time, but to be honest I would much rather see him catch.

We fish on but remain fish-less. But as blanks go this one is of the highest quality. Driving home through driving rain I replay the day's thought-movie and reflect: good memories are often made with good friends and so it is. To have caught a fish today would have changed the meaning of the day. I like this day just as it is, with mysteries unsolved, and I feel privileged and inspired to have been so close for a while to nature's wild, beating and yet untouchable heart.